Hard Bodies

This post follows last week’s Hot Bodies. I wrote this very shortly after I came out seven years ago.

I feel as if I should warn you about something but somehow I think that would take away from the power of this 32 year old, 275 pound woman embracing her sexuality and sex for the first time in her life. So no warning. Let’s embrace our sexuality in whatever way it manifests for us at whatever time in our lives.

We all deserve to feel that fire and beauty inside!

It is funny how the journeys we go on, and feel like we’ve completed, come back to us. I am that girl again who feels uneasy and insecure. But in recording this for you I am beginning to find that confident, powerful, and, yes, sexy voice again!

Thank you dearly for taking the time to read this.

My hope for women is that we can truly be empowered in our bodies, that we can share our stories without shame, and that we can love ourselves through compassion and fierceness!

With Love,
Vanessa
xoxo

I am on an airplane sitting next to an open magazine of Flex, the “High Intensity Training Issue,” and the man reading it has a cartoon-ish, full-breasted, short-skirted, flirty looking female tattoo on his arm. I am reading Brazen Femme, and am very aware of the fact that I don’t know what it is like to want to look at hard glossy muscled bodies and feel inspired to achieve such a body.

I want queer bodies. Bodies full of contradiction. Bodies dressed up in leather and lace. I want this for myself; I want to discover my own sense of embodying queerness, but I am still feeling in between. Still hiding. I read little about the insecurity and unease in which I find myself queer. I am uneasy, and everything feels hard sometimes.

I want to be hard, un-movable, but still touched—to be approachable, to not feel awkward in my skin. Sometimes it feels like I am all desire. I want, I want, I want. I want to feel her body against mine. I want to put my lips on her mouth. I want to fiercely fuck her long and hard. Right now.

Where is that beautiful confident girl who walked into Metro and asked to fit into hip-clothes all the while brazenly showing off her two quite massive hickies? I want someone who will suck on my neck, someone who will caress my body and fuck me over and over again until I come over and over again. I want to have the confidence to ask for what I want, and to ask for what she needs, and to give it to her.

When I was with her, when I was loosing myself in her body, I knew that kissing girls, loving girls, being with girls, was all I wanted. Was right in a way that had never been right before. It wasn’t about her, and I knew that even at the time. It was about discovering something deep within myself.

I am discovering my powerful, female, knows what-she-wants, and what-she-knows, and who-she-is self. I am discovering my “fuck you, I’m fat, and I ooze hot sex” attitude.

I am discovering that woman who has a fire inside of her, which heats her up while she walks down the street unafraid and doesn’t understand why you aren’t looking at her, transfixed.

The man I am sitting beside on the plane wants to make himself bigger and bigger. He is cuddled up next to his wife. She is reading a magazine that tells her how to become smaller and smaller. The contrast among us frightens me. I feel vulnerable, but have been hiding for too long. So, I hold myself up and try not to put my hands over my book that says “lesbian studies” on the back, and I realize: we are all three of us filled with desire, trying to figure out who we want to be through our bodies.

We are all on the verge of our bodies
of what we might have been
and what we might become
and we are hard