One of the most powerful inner diamonds, a gorgeous sparkling inner compass inside of your body is realizing as a woman that your own womanhood is never up for sale. No if’s, and’s, “but’s, or regardless.
I’m a cam model and I remember watching a top performing cam model on a site and she was talking to someone in her audience and she said, “You might not believe it but I’m a Christian and a webcam model. I pray every single night.”
Now I’m sure a lot of Christians would scoff at that comment, but then again leave it to “Christians” average people themselves to judge whose saved.
As an “Aphrodite in the Bedroom,” (that’s my term for my job), people think I sell my womanhood but the reality is that what I’m selling is being with me as I wear my breasts, my ass, and most of all invite you to partake of my spirit with me.
A couple of times I’ve been sent cryptic bible verses from ones close to me who have discovered what I’ve done for work or backhand digs from someone who I (a very private person) have invited to my inner circle and they have discovered my work. I’m not selling my womanhood. Or selling me. Just how I wear my diamonds, my curves, and the attitude that makes me, me.
There’s been countless times where in a session with someone after we have virtually (which is very energetically physical in a way) exchanged energy and afterwards I’ll sit up poised like a lady and chat and have a conversation with my gentleman admirer with so much ladyness, authenticity, poise, and grace that it reminds them what a woman is.
My womanhood is not for sale.
This is something that I often have to repeat to myself as a woman with Black skin. Every day, in a scary amount of increasingly frequency that I go out into the world I’m treated less than human.
When I go to Starbucks, if there’s no one behind me they’ll make me wait for 7 minutes before they take my order.
I get glares walking down the street.
I take the bus and sometimes the bus drivers will go out of the way to help the white patrons and make things extra difficult for me with my hands are full.
And shopping? Well if I’m grocery shopping or struggling with bags and if the wrong person has seen how vulnerable I am I’ve had instances where someone has walked over to try and abuse me me.
And those are just the light things, not the scary moments like being hazed by the police, being called the N word, or having a you know what pointed at me.
My womanhood is not for sale. Not only that but I refuse to “harden” who I am as a woman which is where the phrase the “Strong Black Woman” comes from, impling that because I’m strong I’m dehumanized in a way and can take more of your mess.
No your mess is your shit (and when I say “your” I’m not saying it to the reader of this blog because I know I only have supporters here), their mess, their bags are there’s to pick up. And choose to be Pretty, Soft, Black woman in the middle of it.
Now there are times – outside of anyone that I have felt that my womanhood is for sale. Those are the times when my standards were low for myself, or the times that I couldn’t give myself the basic needs.
Just because your in sw doesn’t mean that your going to always bring in bank (and that’s the biggest misconception that exists about the Aphrodite in the Bedroom industry), on one really rough month I was on my period and didn’t have the money to buy tampons. So I sold the tripod for my camera.
And you want to know a sobering fact? Women who are homeless often have to either use 1 tampon for their ENTIRE period cycle, I’m talking one tampon for the full 7 days and that’s why so many of them die from toxic shock syndrome. Sometimes when they can’t get their hands on a tampon they are limited to stuffing toilet paper up their velvet place. Can you imagine how that must feel? When I was a trainer, the last group workout I taught was a donation based group community workout and instead of paying me I asked the participants to pay me with feminine products and bras. Because (and this is the Victoria’s Secret associate inside of me) when a woman is wearing the right bra she can do anything.
Another time that I felt that I failed myself as a human being is – when trying to escape an abusive situation – my mentor sent me a link to a homeless shelter. I remember searching for homeless shelters and realizing as a single woman with no children how hard it would be to get in and after reading the reviews on them how dangerous they really are.
See your womanhood is your diamond, your goddess point to your body. It’s not just your body itself but it’s also your too muchness, your over the topness, and the laughter in your soil.
It’s your poise.
Your elegance.
Recently I’ve been sharing my pain with you about how I was thrown out of a dance studio and I’ve been reminding myself that I was classy, kind, and elegant with every single person at that studio and whenever I walk pass the dance manager (who unfortunately lives across the street from me) and took part in hurting me in a verry vulnerable time. You know what I do? I hold my head up with inner grace and elegance for the woman that I am inside of me.
See Gorgeous, there’s no price tag on your womanhood. Just like there’s no price tag on your beauty. It pours deep from your soil and there’s always more.
I wrote this post because as the world becomes more desperate the people in the world tend to become darker. And in those moments it can feel dehumanizing at times when someone does something directly to how. And I wanted to remind you that in the darkness, even if you can’t see them you can still hear the stiletto taps of your womanhood walking beside you and within you in every room that you in.