At two years old I rushed into my family’s home (from the neighbor’s house), to gleefully share with my parents that I had my first kiss. I was the little girl who went around rejecting adult’s requests for kisses while giving them the stink eye but was super excited to have chosen to get one that my young mind saw as exciting and romantic.
My curiosity about the sexual and the romantic continued from there. As a little girl watching TV with my legs over my head (sitting on my butt was just too boring!) I’d feel a growing warm sensation around my groin when scenes on TV depicted what I now know to be my kinks. As I got older, I continued to daydream about romantic scenes that involved kissing and touching.
At the same time, lessons from society were stripping away what 2-year-old me had once been so confident with – my bodily autonomy. I had gone from knowing that my body was mine alone to questioning whether it belonged to me at all.
I had a stereotypically curvy Latina body by 10 years old which is when men started catcalling. My instinct was to react angrily and tell them off until my aunt, seeking to protect me from the violent wrath of fragile rejected men, taught me to just keep my head down and keep walking – an often useful, though frustrating, survival mechanism. During summer camp as a preteen, one of the boys (a “friend”) would constantly pinch my butt. I would physically retaliate, digging my nails into his skin and slapping him but it was just a game for him, and I eventually got used to the unwanted touch.
In high school, women would slap my ass and I didn’t know what to do with that either. By this point, my bodily autonomy was corroded. It was the perfect recipe for ending up in a psychologically and sexually coercive relationship – which I did.
That was my breaking point. My mind retaliated with a need to control all sexual advances and I rejected anyone who made the first move. I spent years volunteering with organizations that worked at the intersection of sexual trauma, especially repetitive trauma, because I had a desperate need to understand my own experiences.
But as time passed and I was having positive sexual encounters, I realized I wanted to not only support others in healing from trauma but also support people in having pleasurable consensual sexual experiences in which they felt safe, worthy, and present.
Children often begin by feeling worthy, capable, and secure but due to oppressive structures (like white supremacy and the cis-hetero-patriarchy), the isms & phobias of the world (racism, sexism, ableism, transphobia, fatphobia, etc.), and interpersonal harm, there are infinite reasons one might internalize that they aren’t worthy of positive experiences, pleasurable sex, healthy relationships, and personal security. I want to be part of changing that. I want a world where people feel connected to their bodies, their identities, their communities, their desires, needs, and wants. I support people in finding this for themselves.
Over 20 years after these events began, I am still discovering the ways in which I am reclaiming my bodily autonomy as well as my sensual and sexual energy. Healing and growth are not linear and sometimes growth can feel like a strong slap in the face. My public education and private coaching, speaking, and workshop facilitation is geared towards offering tools that people can use to be the sexual and sensual selves they seek. We can eliminate so much sexual violence through self-empowerment that recognizes the needs and well-being of all those involved in sexual, romantic, and real talk, general encounters.
Join me if you dare 😉Timeline
I’ve always been interested in sexuality, healing, and social justice, it just took me a while to recognize how long I’ve been doing this work.
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