Bare Down
Written by Kelly on October 5th, 2009I am not a whore.
I was a 19 year old virgin flirting with disaster, tequila shots and skin-tight shirts that constricted my rib-cage and stole my breath. Oxygen was not necessary. The thin bones of ghosts don’t breathe. I was so damn lost down drunken back alleys, toppling from bar room stools. It was really no surprise that trouble found me under the train tracks in the snow. For a long time, the sensation of ice pressed against my skin induced me to vomit. How is it that I can’t remember either of the faces of the men that forced an ache between my legs? But for years, all I could associate with snow falling in winter was the deafening quiet that surrounds loss? For me, loss had the distinct smell of copper. White legs, dried blood, and a missing pair of underwear.
They say some women swear off sex after assault, can’t stand the revolt of their skin when it is touched even consensually. I sometimes wish I had been that way. I wonder if I would have healed quicker if I didn’t spend years after this giving myself away. 19 to 21 was a sad symphony of bed springs creaking under the weight of some dumb jock or wanna-be musician getting off. I think about the locker room conversation that must have come after. She is such a terrible lay. This is all I can imagine they would say about the sloppy drunk girl who turned to concrete every single time she was touched.
There was so much heart ache at only 19 years old. What about now at 34?
This week I wrote about S-E-X. I lost a handful of readers. I imagine some buttoned up reader gasping at the screen, at the image of my thick Irish thighs and what they could squeeze between them. Fuck you, I think. Good Riddance! I would laugh, if I didn’t feel such sadness.
I am not a whore. But, after you have had two men take ownership of your body by force, and then you spend a lifetime in two years drunk and numb on the flat of your back, you might feel a little bit like I do. After sexual assault, an orgasm is an act of defiance. At 34, I say forget forgiveness. I did nothing wrong. I celebrate the way my body bends against another persons. We generate the type of heat that can melt winter snow, even concrete becomes malleable when I hold it between my legs and bare down.
And….I am about to bare the mutha fucker down. I suggest you make a quick exit, now, if you do not think that you can stand the pressure.
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I wrote about being pro-choice this week, and about having contemplated abortion this summer. I lost a handful of readers. Practice what you preach: write for you. I can’t speak for anyone else but I’ll keep reading.
I like when you write about sex. I don’t entirely understand the motivation and can’t particularly imagine doing it myself but I like that you write about a category of thoughts we all think. Most of us don’t lay them bare like you do. I respect that.
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I find so many people to be prudes.
Your words have such power behind them – don’t ever silence yourself.
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Subject matter aside, and not to be insensitive to content and plot, but again, from a strictly literary point of view, the writing is superb! I like honest writing. This is about as honest as it gets. As for readers, I’ve lost my share when I write about sex too. Makes me wonder just how exciting those readers sex lives are.
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How do you know that you lost readers? Don’t see it in the comments… If readers hadn’t caught on to the lack of small talk and that you are a down to earth person by now well, too bad for them. Their loss…
As for sexual angst- well… let’s just say I’ve been there and back. Hugs Kelly- I’m proud of your resilience!
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When I was quite young, I thought I could own myself and my own body. It should have been simple, but it was not. And now, thirty years later, I was shocked all over again at how judgmental people are, just because I dyed my hair in an unconventional way.
It doesn’t seem to matter what sex a person is or what culture they live in, women who shrug off the submissive role in sex are suspect.
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We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for sex. It is part of our chemistry, our biology. Never mind that you lost readers. You are true to your writing craft. That’s good.
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Perhaps it is the moon, and not your content?
I lost half of my readers this last month, too. Mention one tiny little worm and folks think I’m contagious…
Pffff.
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You are a strong and wonderful voice. You own you.
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I’m not going anywhere. Write it out.
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You also gained a reader. You are a powerful writer. I will read you good, bad, sex or not. I cannot wait to read what’s coming next. Thank you for your strong lyrical prose.
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amen.
i don’t think it is any type of coincidence that i found you recently.
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Write it, don’t care who’s reading it.
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anyone who thinks you’re a whore needs to go find other grass to crap on.
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you gained me, too. i love it.
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*claps*
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I read this last night at work, and was floored by the power you hold.
We don’t need the people in our lives who cannot face all facets of us.
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Not going anywhere. Have my chair firmly pulled up.
I love your writing – both its beauty and its power.
I also like sex and all the languages of authentic selfhood and intimacy.
After sexual assault, an orgasm is an act of defiance.
Yes, completely.
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damn.damn.damn.
there are more of us.
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Rock on. That is all.
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You are such a powerful writer. And you have SUCH experiences to write about. I would have saved you those experiences, if I could have. No woman needs to be, wants to be, or should be, raped. Real men don’t rape. For the life of me I can’t understand how someone can be so uncaring that they would take such advantage of a young woman, as you describe in this post today. Don’t get this wrong, I am no saint, but I am proud to say I have NEVER taken advantage of a woman who was drunk. Not ever. I love women too much to do something like that to one of them. Have I mentally kicked myself for ‘passing it up’? You betcha. More than once. But it’s still something I could never bring myself to do, no matter how many times I kick myself. And I cannot understand or relate to someone who would. I am ashamed and embarrassed that I share an organ with those who would.
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I’m not leaving, either… Your writing is deep and true, and it intrigues me and makes me think. That, I love. You are brave.
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Another new reader here.
I love this imagery–the power you bring to it. And thinking about an orgasm as an act of defiance? I may be looking at my sex life in an entirely new way at almost 40.
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I adore you.
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You may have lost readers by writing about sex but you just gained one for the same reason.
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Wow! Write for you. It’s freeing when you forget about approval. I just found you, and will stick around. You’re an excellent writer.
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Your writing just gets better and better, and it started at amazing. You have such a way with words and images…magical, masterful.
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I’ll stay. Keep your head up girl! I know that this is hard.
I can feel your anger through your words.
Speak up, because no one else does.
You are an incredible talented and strong woman!
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Wow!!! Am I being repetative when I say you amaze me?
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You’re an incredible writer; an incredible woman.
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You are not a whore.
You are a wonderful writer, a woman who lives her life with honesty, a person who demonstrates her ability to fight back and keep fighting, and you are a positive example to all of us.
Keep going.
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hey in new and here to stay… u rock !