Big and small things.

I can not even begin to compete with the topic that is hot on people’s lips right now. The youth are speaking out, South Africans are banding together. The past is starting to loose its tight hold on the future and so we grow and so we change. The big things.
Over the past few days I have found myself in conversation about the elusive orgasm more than once. To be precise, it was 4 different occasions where orgasms were discussed, face to face, online, over the phone and via an episode of Women on Sex, which I follow on Youtube and Facebook and watch every week religiously. 4 times in one week can not be ignored.
Let me begin by saying that I have not had penetrative sex in almost 3 months. I stopped taking my contraceptive pill so I am waiting 6 months. I will document my natural rhythm, go and see a gynecologist and then decide if I am brave enough and dedicated enough to begin using the rhythm method.
Back to orgasms. I have not been having regular sex and so my dear vagina has at times been a little sad, a little confused and sometimes a little frustrated. My vag, became used to foreplay, some warm kisses and then a deep delicious riding session before she would let it all go. Back in the days when I was on the pill and having regular penetrative sex, I would have been able to tell you quite easily if I had had an orgasm or not.
Now that I no longer ride my lover like a small pony, I have come to realise that maybe we are all terrifyingly mislead. My orgasms are all so different now. I sometimes lie back and feel everything in my stomach, or feel it all over my skin, sometimes the entire universe surges through the tip of my clit, sometimes it is as if warm waves slowly pull me out to sea where I drown in pleasure and lazy sleep. Sometimes I cry and laugh and can’t feel my face or feet, or hands. Sometimes I can’t tell where my skin ends and his begins, where my muscles start and the bed frame ends.
I think that I have just come to understand why my vagina is so wonderful – it can never and will never be truly understood. It is a wonderful thing that answers only to herself. How dare I try to box the definition of orgasm, how dare we try to compare each individual experience, feeling, flavour? How dare society measure our pleasure according to size, volume, liquid?
I don’t think that I believe that some women can’t have orgasms. I can believe that some women are with the wrong partner, I can believe that some women think they have to sound and be a certain way for their partner to be happy, feel proud. I can believe that most women who have had orgasms, then make it difficult for their friends who have not. By explain what you felt one time, you might be placing expectations on someone else.
You will know what it feels like, that is my belief. You will know and sometimes your partner will know too, but not always. Love and skill is not measured by being able to recognise these things. My body is different each time. My lover’s body is different each time.
To women out there who want to celebrate something. Celebrate you, celebrate your body and all of the wonderful, magical, big and small pleasures that it gives you. Learn about your body, unashamedly, gently, vigorous, passionately, slowly. Learn about you and the things that you like. Often this will make you a better partner. Know you so that someone else can. Or just for you. Celebrate you for you.
Here is to big and small orgasms, the soft, quiet ones that come and go almost unnoticed. The violent, loud ones that leave you crazy, sweaty and in pieces, to the mellow ones, the happy ones, the heavy ones, to all of the ones we have not yet felt, to the ones that we had but did not name, to the ones that we boasted about, to the ones that made us shout, to the giggling ones, to the ones that make you purr, to the waves and swells and long lasting pleasure hell.
To orgasms and the vagina.
Here is to you.
Big and small.

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