I looked at him in the eyes as I was sitting on his cock. And then I looked away as I started to cry. My heart was opening for him and his was not. He was closed. He was all animal, no heart. There was no soul in our sex. We had transcended our bodies and gone on a cosmic ride, but when I came down and landed my soul back into my body by making eye contact with him, I realised I was being used. And equally, using myself. Because deep down I knew... there was passion but no heart.

And this was painful.

Because I long for Union. With the sweet and the sacred. To feel safe enough to allow everything to open. My sex, my heart and my mind. To experiencing mind blowing sex which is as deep as it is transcendent. Not one or the other. Both.

Because I’m worth that.

The deeper you love yourself, the more you begin to question whether it’s worth getting lost in desire and passion if you leave yourself behind.

For me, having a relationship with my heart now, it’s heart first, sex second. My heart has to be on for my sex to be on. I have to feel safe, loved, heard and seen before I open myself up to being penetrated by another.

Because I can receive god in nature. In the food I eat. In looking into an innocent child’s eyes. In giving to the homeless. I don’t need sex to fill a void or to take me to places. I go to the places I long for every day.

And unless I can feel that another person feels this too. And has the same longing I have, to reach god through the penetration being a sacred consummation with the divine, then I’ll say no, but thank you.

Because unless you can lay here and breathe with me in ecstasy... unless you are willing to make the time to witness me in my opening. Unless you want to really get to know my soul. And unless you’re willing to hold me and be held in the deepest most vulnerable feelings, I’ll say no.

Sex without heart, to me is like a cheap bottle of wine. And not the good kind. It’s the kind that gets you feeling really good and then gives you the worst hangover the next day when you realise you fucked yourself in an attempt to get high real quick and escape your feelings. Sex without heart is like saying fuck you to god; your own light and the part of you that knows how deeply amazing you are.

And I will not settle for less.

I looked at him in the eyes as I was sitting on his cock. And then I looked away as I started to cry. My heart was opening for him and his was not. He was closed. He was all animal, no heart. There was no soul in our sex. We had transcended our bodies and gone on a cosmic ride, but when I came down and landed my soul back into my body by making eye contact with him, I realised I was being used. And equally, using myself. Because deep down I knew... there was passion but no heart.

And this was painful.

Because I long for Union. With the sweet and the sacred. To feel safe enough to allow everything to open. My sex, my heart and my mind. To experiencing mind blowing sex which is as deep as it is transcendent. Not one or the other. Both.

Because I’m worth that.

The deeper you love yourself, the more you begin to question whether it’s worth getting lost in desire and passion if you leave yourself behind.

For me, having a relationship with my heart now, it’s heart first, sex second. My heart has to be on for my sex to be on. I have to feel safe, loved, heard and seen before I open myself up to being penetrated by another.

Because I can receive god in nature. In the food I eat. In looking into an innocent child’s eyes. In giving to the homeless. I don’t need sex to fill a void or to take me to places. I go to the places I long for every day.

And unless I can feel that another person feels this too. And has the same longing I have, to reach god through the penetration being a sacred consummation with the divine, then I’ll say no, but thank you.

Because unless you can lay here and breathe with me in ecstasy... unless you are willing to make the time to witness me in my opening. Unless you want to really get to know my soul. And unless you’re willing to hold me and be held in the deepest most vulnerable feelings, I’ll say no.

Sex without heart, to me is like a cheap bottle of wine. And not the good kind. It’s the kind that gets you feeling really good and then gives you the worst hangover the next day when you realise you fucked yourself in an attempt to get high real quick and escape your feelings. Sex without heart is like saying fuck you to god; your own light and the part of you that knows how deeply amazing you are.

And I will not settle for less.