Sacred Semen

I started masturbating in eighth grade, and I immediately felt both intense pleasure and intense shame from it. By the time I graduated high school, I'd filled a large drawer in my bedroom with journals, and all the entries dealt with one thing: my self-hatred and remorse over my masturbation habit.

The bathroom I used had a large L-shaped tub that allowed me to spread out. After a hot bath, I often drained the water from the tub, lay there naked and aroused, and directed the shower spray at that sensitive spot on the underside of my erect penis.

Without touching myself, I could reach orgasm that way, and my semen would spray onto my stomach and wash down my sides. Looking back, I recognize a war going on inside myself in those moments. On the one hand, the act expressed defiance against shame. A "this is who I am" proclamation. And on the other hand, a burning self-hatred. A "look at you. filthy. disgusting."

I still masturbate, and I don't feel the intense shame I once felt in my orgasm. In the last year and even more so being in Kyera Kacey's world, I've felt called into deeper celebration and exploration of my orgasm. And to confront some lingering shame in my energy around my semen.

When I masturbate, I usually use a condom and afterwards, I dispose of the condoms and my semen in the trash. When I do, there's still a bit of shame. Like "this is where this part of you belongs. in the trash."

This week, it's time to confront it. I've been getting direction from Spirit about this for months, but it got clearer this week. So, I bought this sparkly gold vase. It felt very "Rich Bitch" to me. And it will become my own personal ciborium, sitting on top of my chest of drawers at the foot of my bed. In my religious upbringing where I first learned shame around my sexuality, a ciborium was a sacred receptacle for the body of Christ. I often genuflected in front of it in deep reverence for what I believed to be divinity contained there.

Now, it's time to honor me. To honor the part of me I've disdained. And to reverence the divinity in it. So, when I finish, this will be where I place the condoms. And it will sit on top of my chest of drawers. Not hidden. My bedroom chest of drawers used to hide volumes of self-hatred. Now it will display self-love.

When I remove those condoms and my semen from this ciborium, it won't be an unceremonious dumping in the trash. See the journal to the left? A dear friend gave that to me recently, and when it came to me, I didn't know why or how I would use it. It's the most beautiful journal I've ever been given. The paper looks like parchment, and the front says "never hide your wings." It has a sacred energy about it. Like it was meant for scripture. Well, it's purpose became crystal clear to me just now as I write this and look at this picture.

When I remove the condoms, I'll hold a ceremony for them. I'll take that journal and write an entry expressing gratitude, reverence and love for my orgasm, my semen, and my sexuality.

Rewrite the story.

Use my writing to express love to that part of myself instead of hatred.

To heal the wounds I self-inflicted.

Tears. I know Spirit brought all of this to me.

I'm so grateful.