Girly Parts: Seeing myself as a Goddess (Pagan Blog Project 2012)

As I discuss topics in this post that contain at least intensely suggestive dialogue, strong coarse language, intense sexual situations, or intense violence, it may have some material that may be unsuitable for children under 14 years of age. Discretion is advised.

Additionally, if you are or know someone who is a victim of sexual violence, please contact the police or RAINN at their online or phone hotline (1-800-656-HOPE). RAINN also has information on local rape and sexual violence counseling centers and state-by-state resources.

Also, long post is long. Apologies in advance.

This post proved to be more difficult to write than I thought, despite how open I can be about sex, violence, and advocacy. I guess when you start to open yourself up and start to apply these to yourself, its personal effects can run deeper than you might think. Still, though, I believe them to be important topics that need to be discussed, especially in a spiritual faith and community that revolves around sex.



Paganism is, for all intents and purposes, a sexual spirituality. Having been born and raised Roman Catholic then converting to a faith that was so open about sex, it took me a while to shed the whole "sex is BAD except for procreation" mindset, a guilt-driven belief in original sin that is instilled into you from birth. As I started researching Wicca at thirteen and claiming its beliefs as my own, I started to slowly shed that belief about sex and to accept myself for the flesh-and-blood human that I'm fortunate to be.

Any progress made as a teenager was instantly thwarted when, at eighteen, I was coerced into the home of a coworker twice my age and raped. My mind went into overdrive: God (or the gods) must be upset with me for accepting who I was and wanting to be comfortable in my own skin, through sex and otherwise, so my punishment was to force me to see and experience it as bad, especially since it was my first encounter with anything related to sex. (Like I said, that guilt-driven mindset was hard to overcome!)

So imagine the work that had to be redone to not let that moment define my life and my views on my own body and self-worth. It's difficult enough, in a culture that is already saturated in sexual guilt -- let's face it, Americans are rather puritanical when it comes to sex and one's body -- to overcome the thought that your body and your sexuality are both dirty, perverted, or otherwise wrong for being, you know, human!

As I continued along my Pagan path, slowly moving from the Wicca, from which I originally learned about Paganism, to the rather agnostic Pagan practice today, seeking counseling along the way (though I admit it took a few years to come to terms with the rape and even get counseling for that), I found that I was quite uncomfortable with Pagan morality and sex. They were so... open about it! So willing to not only talk about it, but also explore it and be open with each other. And the rituals held were, especially around Ostara and Beltane, driven almost solely by sex. Even mundane rituals were ended with an athame being driven into a chalice, representing the male and female and their bond through sex.



I was uncomfortable with it, let's be honest. My girly parts and sense of self-worth were called into question at every ritual, every Sabbat, every Pagan gathering. While I never let it show, I did wrangle with it on the inside, battling the demons that insisted that my body and every part of it was dirty and not worth any attention. In fact, the less attention called, the better, as I could then pretend they didn't exist, seeing myself as some asexual being and protecting myself from what I actually was.

Don't even get me started on social constructs, by the way, where a woman must be both sexy and innocent. Just... I'm not even going to go there today.

The strange part is, I always found myself talking to other women (and men -- yes, sexual abuse absolutely happens to men, too) who have been through the same thing and were comfortable telling me about their experiences. While I didn't do a lot of talking myself, I did feel it to be very important for these people to tell their stories and to realize that what happened (1) wasn't their fault, (2) has no bearing on their worth as a person, and (3) does not (and should not!) define who they are or who they will become. I loved that others felt comfortable telling me this, and I felt blessed every time to be the medium by which they might learn those points above.

But where did I come in? Did I believe all these for myself?

Then something happened, right about at my early- to mid-twenties. A mind-shift, you might say, where I one day decided that was some stupid shit, to think that such a natural part of life as sex was treated as something shameful and dirty. I had read Dianne Sylvan's The Body Sacred (if you haven't read it, seriously, drop whatever it is you're doing (after reading this post, of course) and devour it with your eyeballs) and decided to take a good, hard look at myself. Not just what I could see upon glancing at myself in the mirror, either, or even delving into the recesses of my brain -- I had done enough of that in the years preceding this moment.

Nope... I had to look at myself even deeper. When I was at my most exposed, most uncomfortable... and at my most vulnerable.



It started with a simple strip-search, peeling away each layer of both my clothes and my repose as I examined every square inch of my body, until I found myself teetering at the edge. It was my own personal form of torment, but let's face it: The only way to become more comfortable with your body and more acquainted with how you truly feel about it, is to experience it fully.

When I finally got to where I had avoided for all those years, I took the chance to look at and examine everything. And when I say everything, I mean... everything. Sitting-on-the-floor-and-poking-around-with-a-mirror-in-one-hand-and-my-girly-parts-in-another kind of everything. It was, by far, the most intimate I had ever gotten with my body. Other people -- namely men, but I've never been opposed to women! That's just how it worked out -- have had a better chance to check all this out than I ever had before then, and it was mostly because I lacked the same enthusiasm.

It still took me a while to be comfortable in my skin -- all of it! -- but I find every day that I am, in fact, made perfectly and function perfectly. No matter whether it was God, Goddess, Spirit, nature, whatever... whoever was in charge of making me did a pretty damn fine job of it. And there's no reason to be ashamed of who I am, what I am, and what I do, provided that it is all what I want for myself.

[caption id="attachment_1284" align="aligncenter" width="316" caption="Ooh look, double entendre!"][/caption]

Nowadays, I see myself as a goddess and try to express myself as one, both in everyday life and sexually. I may have days where I feel fat, or feel run-down, or do something so stupid that I feel like I'm not worth much... but no matter what I do, how I feel, or what I look like, I am created in someone's perfect image with ways in which I can feel confident and sexy, and therefore am upon myself a goddess.

I believe you all are, too. Embrace your inner god/dess. Do it for yourself, as no one else will or should do it for you.

And most of all, check yourself out and see yourself for the god/dess you really are. :)