Dating, Life, New York City, Personal Liberation, Relationships, Sex, Sprituality

Can Being Sexy Help with Depression?

Taken backstage at Dionne Fairbanks...top from incarriescloset.com

Taken backstage at Dionne Fairbanks…top from incarriescloset.com

This weekend was bitter sweet.  The sweetness was I had the debut of my acting career (in Dionne Fairbanks) a play that ran for a weekend in New York City, Off Broadway, after 10 years. Many of you don’t know this but acting is what I came to New York to do. I never did though. I did many other things that I felt I enjoyed more, like modeling and singing…and most recently writing and blogging. It’s all my calling. I live to  express.

The bitterness was man I’ve been sleeping with for the past few months wasn’t there to see this triumphant moment in my career. Long story. Actually, pretty short. Death in the family. It’s never expected. I didn’t know about this until the last day of the show. So you can imagine my pain. I was very disappointed.

Still the show had to go on, I had to go on.

So I put on my make up, my costume, my wig, and I took selfies until the pain subsided. I’ve come to terms with the fact that looking good and feeling sexy can help a thousand woes. I seriously have used makeup to improve my mood and I’m not ashamed of it. In an effortless attempt to be more naked emotionally and at a soul level I have stopped wearing foundation on my face. It improved my confidence in a deep way. For the stage though, I went through what used to be my daily ritual of applying foundation and 5 or 6 other pieces of makeup.

If you read in my erotica blog about my exercise in submission with a man I was involved with you will see how sexuality, femininity, and power all intertwine. I have never felt so powerful than when I was utilizing my sexuality. Maybe that’s why in my early 20’s (ooh! I feel so old…being able to say “early 20’s”) I was a fan of one night stands. Many times when I went out with the intention of having sex, choosing the partner, and bedding him, I felt great about it. I walked away lighter. I didn’t understand that sometimes it had spiritual repercussions. But there was something powerful about it.

Feeling bad in the morning (which I’ve started a 6th journal simply about how I feel when I wake up in the morning) can be remedied by getting dressed up and looking sexy that day. I like to be seen, complimented, and I like to feel beautiful, so it helps. Plus, after you apply your mascara…there’s no more time to cry. Still through the pretty, tears are shed. But at the end of the day you have to find the beauty in the ugliness. I feel comfortable in both. But I feel a major boost in my confidence when I emphasize all that makes me sexy.

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Culture, Life, New York City, Personal Liberation, Relationships, Sex, Sprituality

Sex at the Sinks-The Hidden Sexuality of Touching a Stranger

For the longest time, I have been able to see sex in everything I do, sexual energy that is. Some people call it “having your mind in the gutter,” but I think there is something terribly wrong when a society associates sex in general with a place that is considered the bowels of the big city. Think about that. I have long thought I was sexy and exuded or oozed sensuality. The studying of various attitudes towards sex I’ve been doing lately has confirmed it: sexuality is apart of our everyday lives and is not just when we’re having intercourse. As a newly aspiring masseuse (among other things) and a receptionist at a hair salon who occasionally does shampoos (I like to think of them as high quality professional scalp massages by a woman gifted and talented with her hands), I wasn’t surprised to feel the familiar exchange of energy that goes on between two bodies when one is helping the other to relax and feel good. I hadn’t touched a stranger in that way in years,  with no re pore established prior to (even one night stands have that, and I haven’t done one of those in a while either).  I’m sure I had given random massages to fellow colleagues in the hotels overseas when we were overworked from flying, but that was a few years ago, and I had pretty much tried to forget many details from that flight attendant sham of a job. (Although by it’s sheer novelty I’m sure I’ll be forced to write about it sooner or later, down the last gritty fascinating detail.)

Touching someone in this way felt right and natural and I soon remembered the power I had to make someone feel better than they did before they met me. A man came into the salon and wanted a shampoo only. I was confused and said so out loud. “Basically he just want’s a scalp massage,” a stylist told me. I was on it. I wanted the tip. I knew I could swing this and it would be more than just a monetary exchange. This was an opportunity for me to practice my juju.

I hung up his jacket and dressed him in a robe. I told him to have a seat while he tied the ties of the robe around his waist and buttoned it closed at the top. He sat down and prepared to relax. I was in charge of his experience and I felt fully confident and capable. I was serene and peaceful so that energy transferred from my body to his. I walked behind him and placed a towel around his neck. Pressing the button on the chair to make it rise, I watched as his body levitated to a more supine position. I turned on the water and when it explodes from the hose it always sounds like a static-y radio or a crackly record. The woosh of the water as it runs over my hand and I test the temperature…”Is the water ok?” I say in a soothing, syrupy tone. “Oh yes it’s peeerfect,” he replies. After his hair is thoroughly wet, I turn the water off, reach behind me, and pump the shampoo bottle two times. The creamy ecru colored liquid forms a blob in the palm of my hand and I spread it all over the man’s hair. Now that it’s completely slathered in the shampoo, that’s when I begin my massage. I vigurously scrub his scalp using my fingertips and I make sure to go in a circular motion, touching every centimeter of his skin. As I feel the tension in his scalp releasing I feel a different type of tension in my body rise. And it’s funny, I can’t really describe it, I just know when I’m hitting the right spot. The signals are not always detectable, but later I found that someone else saw him tenting from across the room. I talked to him a little bit after hearing him moan once…he tells me “Oh, that feel’s so good. I’m getting such a good vibe from this place…It’s my first time.” I peered down the length of his body while my hands seemed to move all over his scalp without me thinking about it, and I wondered how I could have missed the slight bulge in his crotch.

I rinsed his hair of all of the soapy suds and I a thought occured to me that I really love working with the water element. It must be in my chart somewhere…(the person I would usually ask about this has drifted away from me, by choice, but I digress…). I reached behind me once more and pumped the conditioner from the bottle…twice. I smoothed it all over his hair and this time I went slowly in circles, making sure, as I had done during the washing, to massage behind his ears and  and the back of his head down to the top of his neck, where a ton of tension is stored. I made sure my fingertips slid all over his slippery scalp. I took my time, after all, there was no stylist with a full appointment book waiting on him, I had no one to rush me, and this was all he came for.  I felt fully responsible for his relaxation, and I wanted him to get all that he was paying me for. I knew the more comfortable I made him, that he would ask for me, look for me, seek me again, give me his money, which is another exchange of energy. This was magnetism fully at work.  I was devoting my talent for making people relax to this man for 10-15 minutes, and I took it very seriously.

After I rinsed him for the third and last time… I dried him off gently with the cottony warm towel, and silently pressed the button that made the chair upright again. He was telling me how relaxed he felt before his big meeting, and I felt like something of a mistress, prostitute, healer, and goddess. As I continue to delve into my femininity I’m beginning to realize there is no difference between any of them. He pressed $10 dollars into my hand and I felt like a million bucks…he asked for my name and his name was similar…he looked at me like I wasn’t real, with great appreciation. I wondered how much I could get for other types of massages. If I could make this man feel this great in such a short amount of time in front of everyone, I wonder how much more I could affect him in a private, intimate setting with candles, essential oils and meditative music?

This is the power of touch…this is the way we are having energetic exchanges with people we don’t even know. Now, the first time I had that same affect on a woman, I nearly recoiled at the thought that I had that much powerful over another creature who had the same type of magnetic power I have. I didn’t expect it, and it made me think about the Power….the power to make someone relax…it is truly something I’ll have to get used to if I’m going to be touching people skin to skin for a living. It’s something I’m considering…Wanna be my guinea pig? Hee hee hee…

I feel men who are not fully aware or cognizant of their power or sexuality may be fearful of their power to make a woman totally relax…more on that in another post about the mystery of femininity and attraction. Stay tuned in and turned on!

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Culture, Dating, Events, Life, New York City, Politics/World Issues, Relationships, Sex, Technology

Had to Repost: The Kissing Sailor, or “The Selective Blindness of Rape Culture”

This is so well written and concise, and I would have written it had she not…so I’m very happy to present you with this article about a “pretty picture” and it’s ugly truth:

 

The Kissing Sailor, or “The Selective Blindness of Rape Culture”.

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and Relationships, Culture, Dating, Friendship, Life, New York City, Personal Liberation, Relationships, Sex, Technology

The Power of Sexting

Do it because it makes you happy.

For all my adult females…Just do it.

Tap into your inner sex Goddess and just tell him what he wants to hear. Be creative and laugh a lot. Hide your phone from your co-workers, and tap away. This post is coming from a really horny place, but it has been argued that there is no such thing as lust, and no such thing as horny. I have read doctors, teachers, and love coaches say that when you are attracted to someone, it is actually because you have a “gift” or even some would say a type of “spiritual medicine” for them. In his book, If It Hurts, It Isn’t Love: And 365 Other Principles to Heal and Transform Your Relationships , Chuck Spezzano, PhD says just that as one of the principles. So there. A doctor said it. (For those of you who place a lot of value on titles.) Also, Kenya K. Stevens of Jujuama also teaches women who take her Womb Choice Class (I took it and it changed my perspective forever) that there is a no such thing as lust, and that tingly feeling you feel in your uterus and vagina when you see a man you’re attracted to is Spirit telling you that there are wonderful opportunities for growth when you enter into relationship with that person. Doesn’t have to be sex, and sexting is a safe alternative.

All I know is, most people who have free time during the day are on their phones. It’s a quiet way to express yourself to the one you’re interested in while on the bus, train, waiting for your flight to take off, or have a free moment at lunch. And my own personal experience has shown that I seem “happier” and “more alive” if I am trying to find enticing words to fit the images of what I want the person to imagine. I get great satisfaction from knowing that they are quite stimulated by my words. I have to think fast, be impulsive, edit, proofread, but also be discreet. It helps me multi task and keeps my juices flowing. It helps me be a better writer. Someone passing by me on the street actually told me “You’re happy” today, and my day went smoothly. It builds anticipation between you and your sext partner, and it also can be a way to find out what one other likes sexually, if you even plan to take it that far. Long distance relationships can benefit greatly as well, as you never want to go too long without letting someone feel your desire for them, even if they’re miles away. The many benefits of sexting are undeniable.

I have never been disappointed while sexting except when I started thinking too much and wondering…is all this person wants from me? And then I have to remember that that is impossible because I’m Helese! Everyone knows there’s so much more to be than that. If I remember who I truly am, all is always well. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta hit send now. My sext partner is waiting on a hot juicy response and I’m totally open… Happy Sexting!

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Culture, Life, New York City, Politics/World Issues, Sex, Uncategorized

Support and Attacks on Topfreedom and the T.I.T.S. Movement

As it stands, T.I.T.S. is a movement of one, physically. Although, in spirit, and through the power of their complaints, people are supporting or attacking the Right to Bare Breasts. I was almost arrested today. I quoted laws to the offending officers but none of that worked. The cops rolled up behind me while I was chillin, minding my business on a bench on the Promenade in Brooklyn Heights, and told me that I could be arrested for endangering the welfare of a child because their parents were complaining about me being topless. They said they had about 10 or 20 people complain, and if they had waited, it could have been 50. I explained that children are not being harmed, and I am exercising my right. Besides, children breast feed up until 2 or 3 at times. They were angry and frustrated and said that I wasn’t using “common sense.” I guess today was a test, because this was my second day to do this on that location, and I wasn’t bothered before, but I quieted my solar plexus, my will, and I used my head and calculated what the physical, emotional, monetary, and long-term costs would be to be arrested at this time. Output=not worth it. Maybe another day, but I still refused to agree with their reasons as to why I should put my top back on. They asked for my ID, and I said “I’m complying by putting my clothes on, so I don’t understand why you would need that.” Today, I understood the power of threats and intimidation to get compliance. I had no fear, I just didn’t feel it would be worth it to go through the discomfort of being arrested. I suffered a migraine and emotional pain all night, thinking about the man who I would soon decide to let go, for my own good and his. I’m sure he won’t miss the long texts of me explaining how my needs aren’t being met, and I will enjoy the power of balance, discernment, and exercising my right to end the relationship. He actually told me the other day “You don’t make the rules here.” But what he failed to realize is….I DO, I WILL…and most importantly I AM THAT I AM. I created him, so I can create another reality. It really is my right. I choose to put my metaphorical top on and leave the park of that situation crying, just like I did today in real life, knowing in both situations that I avoided a totally unnecessary uncomfortable situation. Sometimes the growth from situations can come from making a choice NOT to go through something. There are many ways to learn.

Anywho, on a positive nod to the movement, please check out a very POWERFUL response from India Olowokande-Ame’ye:

 I am so excited to catch up on all this. Thank you Itheopiah Chiamaka you too are very powerful…I peeped yr goddess a long time ago ;). no I haven’t done much of anything on the internet. I had to take a break from photographing and filming and sit quietly, alone…for a few months. Gave myself full permission to do that. But I’m cumming out my yoni temple soon, soon. Also I’m finalizing my book, and things are happening offline. I’m abt to go get a glass of wine and check this out. Thank u, I love when black women bare our breasts and write about it. We are meant to be alive and loving outloud and all that juicy jazz. So just seeing yr picture magnetized mah lil smile, u have no idea! Xo…Wow, just watched your brilliance and I’m sooo moved by your candidness, commitment, and sincerity. What an honor and pleasure to read your words and watch the accompanying video in all its rawness. I tell ya, I appreciate your movement and courage to do what u are doing. Now u got me thinking abt the “laws” and knowing my rights and honoring my right to do so. I am out of doors, topless at minimum, at least once a day and I do believe that breasts are powerlines to the divine, and when I started taking time to allow them to feel the sun, wind, rain, clouds, grass, rocks, trees, wata, red clay ,u name it..that’s really when they began to come alive again, carrying tremendous life force energy. I don’t wear bras and stopped wearing them abt six or seven years ago and my breasts sit how they sit…plus I command them to do so u know. I tell my body how I want it to be. The mind has great command ova the anatomy and how smart the bra companies and BIG Pharma (because bras have been linked to breast cancer) are to make (some) women believe if we stop wearing bras our gorgeous breasts will sag, etc..as if 1. Its true 2. There is something “wrong” with breasts that fall….when breasts that fall are lovely and can contain just as much life as breasts that sit high. Also many women believe that their breasts will fall with age or childbirth….the body does whateva the owner thinks and feels it should do…that is the silent command we have ova ourselves. I love my breasts…omg …do I. Yes honeys I do…and my breasts know it too and that get all happy when I talk with them, rub them, kiss them, set them free, and tell them what to do. Girl I’m over the moon and off topic now, but I just love u Helese and I love what u are doing. I nearly in tears typing. Wheeee! Xo

I couldn’t have said it better. This woman is one of my role models. She so eloquently stated my reasons why I choose to bare my breasts and the healing therein. Even though I “stood down” today, movement won’t stop-today I chose to be water, not earth, and comply to fit into the container of this FUCKED UP SOCIETY….But the movement won’t end. Tied to my personal liberation, it has only just begun.

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Culture, Life, New York City, Personal Liberation, Politics/World Issues, Sex

Topfreedom: The Right to Bare Breasts

Topfree in the Square

Me, topfree

No, I will not ask anyone if they will be disturbed by what I’m doing. I will not shy away from kids or turn my back to the playground, especially since you could not present me with the specification in the law that says I can’t be topfree in certain proximity to a playground. I will not shy away from answering questions, neither will discourage young women NOT to do what I am doing. I will let my life, the “clarity of my example” and demeanor of calm and stillness be my testament  to prove that I believe in the right to bare breasts.

Maybe I need to present some research on this (maybe not), but I believe the baring of breasts and the viewing of said breasts is very healing for the soul. Although I’m not trying to prove anything. I only wish share my experiences and thoughts about my new movement, a movement of one, (or should I say three: me and my two breasts.) T.I.T.S. is an acronym for Topfree in the Square, and beginning a few weeks ago I have been going topfree, on random days, in Union Square. Today while writing this, I’m in Brooklyn Heights by the Promenade. I like being near bodies of water easily accessible to where I live because it soothes me. It’s very calming. Lately, I’ve been going through some pretty difficult emotional ups and downs, caused by my expectations set upon another human being. That always works out for us right? Especially when sex is involved, especially when no clear commitment has been established (except to be exclusive sexual partners), especially when you’re carrying baggage from the past–and the person is a spot on reincarnation of various traits that you love and hate from the past relationships in your life. And, especially when you’re me. But that’s for another blog post. That deserves it’s own.

This one is about my breasts and my right the bare them and what it means for my personal liberation at this time in my life.  One of my purposes for the movement is to bring up a few points– I think it says a lot about our society and culture when we:

1) shun the sight of the human body in its natural form

2) allow our children to view violence but we are afraid to be naked in front of them

3) spend more time trying make a woman put her shirt back on rather than helping people who truly need help

4) are openly sexist, and have no problem with a man baring his chest. The breasts of a woman are nurturing and generally fare better when they are not strapped down, pushed up and out, or otherwise covered where the skin can’t breathe and the lymph isn’t free to move around. (I wear push up bras, but they don’t feel like I’m wearing anything. I’ve gone back to wearing no bra most of the time, it makes it easier to go topfree, and also I have some pretty nasty scars underneath my breasts from wearing them in the heat where the combination of the sweat, fabric, and friction caused a pretty serious rash. Now there’s hyperpigmentation in that area. I call them my Battle Scars, even though they’re fading.)

Now that I think of it, I should have known that I’d always be this type of woman. When I was younger, while a teenager, I didn’t wear a bra for years. Even as an adult I practiced “topfreedom (I coined it this term. I coined it!).” I was told that my breasts would sag when I got older, but that didn’t really resonate with me. I loved the fact that my breasts were perky enough to wear a shirt that showed a lot of skin with no bra. (And “perky breasts” shouldn’t be a pre-requisite for going topfree or accepting your breasts as beautiful.) Even side cleavage caused an issue. See-through tops I could sometimes get away with. I guess it’s the exhibitionist in me and part cellular memory of when I lived in a place where women walk around topfree; but I just love showing my boobs.

While sitting topfree in the Square (Union Square, New York City) yesterday, two young girls who could have been anywhere from ages 14 to 19 came up to me while I was working on my laptop. They were shy, trendily dressed, had young fresh Cover Girl worthy faces, and they asked me “Um, why are you like… that?” I calmly answered (I love when I answer calmly. When I’m calm, that’s how I know what I’m doing is in alignment with my  higher self and divine purpose.) “It’s my right.” They slowly came to understand, but that answer gave them pause. “It’s legal,” I contiuned. “Anywhere a man can be topfree a woman can be, in New York City.” (This law is People vs. Santorelli, if you’re curious.) They said “Ok” and walked away. Later one of their guy friends came to me and I went more in depth about how I feel that I’m raising awareness of this law so that people will ask other questions about why we feel so strongly about a woman being topfree. Yet, we allow violence and unhealthy body and sexual images to be fed to our children and ourselves, as adults. I told him that it is most important for his generation (which very well may be my generation as well, he is 19, I am 27) to know this. They have the energy and intellect to spread this information and educate people. He was very receptive. I’m sure being topfree didn’t hurt. Most of the time we were talking though, he looked me in my eyes, and his eyes never lingered on my breasts. His friend, one of the two girls who approached me earlier that day, wanted to take a picture with me, but by that time I had my top on. She wanted to take it anyway. She said she felt self-conscious because she was wearing no bra that day, and seeing me really put things in perspective for her. I told her not to allow anyone to tell her she was any less worthy of respect because of what she wears or does not wear, whether or not she chooses to show a little or a lot of skin. I told her that she was a Goddess, although she may not fully realize it yet, and as she gets older and knows herself more, it will show. She nodded. Purpose fulfilled.

I also did a few interviews that day. One in particular I will post here. I am extremely proud and honored to be a part of this much larger movement of women’s liberation, human sexuality, and sexual politics. My part of the movement is called T.I.T.S. for Topfree in the Square, but I am not the first woman to do this. I’m expanding and building upon what has already been done, although I’ve never heard of anyone doing it in Brooklyn. I love being the first. No one is really making a big deal out of here. No one has come up to me. But I’m not even doing it for them. I’m doing it for me. I’ll probably stay out here all night until I have to pee. Then I’ll head to Starbucks where I’ll have to put my shirt back on. They may not force me to, but I don’t know if men can be topfree in a business establishment.

Plus, today, I’m tired. I’m low on iron because of a low dose estrogen birth control pill that my uterus is type ANGRY for me even considering taking it. She has been crampy, bleedy, clotty. My vulva tissues have been off balance (on intermittent fire) since even before I started taking the pill, stressing about womb choices and financial issues, synthetic unnatural birth control options and, despite a strong desire to someday be a mother (I feel I’m being chosen by a soul in the beyond) whether or not I’m even worthy to get pregnant, being jobless and ringless and all. And Black. And a woman! Bottom line, I will NEVER go against my womb and my better judgment again. And if I could let her breathe without being arrested or harassed, I would do that too. There are worse things than getting pregnant, even by a man who doesn’t want kids. Feeling like you betrayed one of the most important parts of you does not feel good at all. My womb and I had an agreement that we would keep our self care and healing as natural as feasible. Also, I went to the water last night to do a gratitude ritual (topfree as well), because I was just so thankful that the water was still THERE… (Abandonment issues that by the time you read this post, will be cleared. Hopefully. )  It is so expansive and cleansing, so maternal and feminine, I was reminded me of how I need to be, and how powerful I will always be if I remember it, honor it, and embody its characteristics.  The water and womb are closely connected. I let my spirit speak for me when I sat down: “I feel I’ve dishonored you in some way.” Damn right I did. When I dishonor my womb, I dishonor all the waters of the world: I went all demanding on my womb choice, or at least, impatient.

And I put these damn God-forsaken fake ass hormones in my body, to stop one of the most natural and desired processes of the female reproductive system. Not only does it stop pregnancy, but it stops OVULATION! I can’t say I would be 100% thrilled at getting pregnant right now, especially in the circumstances I’m in, but I use my cycle to track my life. And to stop that….well when you know better you do better. And I know there are natural ways where if you don’t want to get pregnant, you won’t.

I believe that personal liberation comes from living your life like you were the first one to ever do it…If it weren’t for those damn precedents. And, I still kinda do wanna get pregnant. This desire has not gone away, despite not having the other things I want yet like: that loving supportive and willing partner , and that flowing abundance, and most importantly, fulfilling divine soul-purpose work. Like emotional calm and balance. I want the right to bare breasts and the right to be unemployed, unmarried, and pregnant if I so choose…and blissful beyond my wildest dreams.

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