Things change, sometimes dramatically, when we shine a different light on them.
7 Things My Sexy Boudoir Photos Taught Me
Author: Beverly Diehl
She/Her. Sex-positive, pro-choice, life-positive, polyamorous, breast cancer sur-thriver. With tiara.
And Then Breast Cancer Happened
My breasts have always been an important part of my womanly identity. Waiting impatiently for them to appear (I was a “Pirate’s Dream” – flat as a plank – till I was almost 14). Flaunting the girls, once they did grow in. Nursing my baby with them. My breasts are an important part of my sex life to this day. Will I really be me, if I have to sacrifice part of a breast, all of a breast, or both of them?
Love Is Never Safe
Love is not safe. Love is not permanent, love is not static. Love itself may last forever, but relationships will morph and change, and sometimes, die. Love guarantees to hurt us, eventually.
Before #MeToo, There Was Unslut
There are women who’ve been slut-shamed who’ve had the maturity and power to ignore it. To be inspired by the slur, even, and throw it back in people’s faces: Ainsi sera, groigne qui groigne [Suck it, bitches. It’s happening! or, another, more elegant translation: Let them grumble, that’s how it’s going to be!] ~Anne Boleyn.
Is That A Spanking Bench I See Before Me?
Over the years, I’d occasionally have sex with guys (prolly inspired by p0rn) who would suddenly, out of nowhere, slap my ass.
WTF?!? Always took me out of the sexy mood, entirely. In a sweet, gentle voice, I would inform those guys, “Try that shit again, asshole, and you’ll pull back a fucking stub.”