A Touchy Subject: Integrating Eroticism In Your Writing

I wanted to know and be reassured that other women were expressing themselves in this way. There, in this book, I found women who were blazing the way and making it alright for me to explore sexuality in my writing. I devoured the book, and I loved the way they wrote about sex—with intelligence and sensitivity; sometimes quiet, demure, and innocent, and at other times raw, animalistic, and out-of-control. It was so liberating and energizing to read their stories, and I found myself, after having felt “not sexual enough,” reconnecting with that part of myself, and that power, my power, through their words.

In our society, there is something really scary about women’s sexuality and desire. It is interesting to note how few places it is acceptable for a woman to be a sexual being—basically, just when she is having sex. In all other situations we have to close these thoughts and feelings down and cut this part of ourselves off. Even in sexual situations, women can feel embarrassed and ashamed. Men, regardless of what kind of physical shape they are in, often feel comfortable and at ease walking around naked, whereas women, even when we are in outstanding shape, will wrap ourselves in a sheet and a blanket and a towel, and then throw on a bathrobe and turn off the lights if we want to get up out of bed to get a glass of water.

I remember being eight-years-old, hearing adults talk about Vanessa Williams’ nude photos during the 1984 Miss America controversy, and seeing on the news how she then resigned from her position. Twenty-three years later, not much has changed in the way people and the media pay attention to nude or provocative photos and create a scandal, as was recently demonstrated in the case of American Idol contestant Antonella Barba’s sexually suggestive photos that were posted online, or in an even more parallel example, when Miss USA contestant Katie Rees was replaced after nude photos of her appeared online. Women who are the subject of racy or erotic pictures—especially when these women are in the public eye for their (clothed) accomplishments and are trying to achieve a dream—have been and still are consistently called out, shamed, ridiculed, insulted, and punished. Why are men conditioned to feel so right about their sexuality, their bodies, and by extension, themselves, while women feel so wrong?

Author and teacher Regena Thomashauer says that, as women, we are essentially conditioned to negate our own existence and give away all of our power early on by the way we are taught to relate to our genitalia. In her book Mama Gena’s School of Womanly Arts she writes:

“During each class, I ask…what ‘theirs’ was called when they were growing up and learning to name their world. Usually, more than half the class says nothing. They say it was just referred to as ‘down there.’ But what is not named does not exist. The language we use to identify our body parts (or not) is part of how we learn to respect, accept, and celebrate ourselves. Of course, I have students whose parents did give them names for their body parts.