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Musings of an Awakening Spirit

Stories, poetry & general musings of Rebecca Haywood, a modern-day Shaman with a penchant for bringing the divine into the human experience.

The Virgin and the Slut

The Virgin and The Slut... I have been branded as both and equally shamed and revered in each— sometimes in the same night, the same outfit, and by the same mouth that begged to bed me. The iron has been held by women just as much as men. It has been wielded by preachers and gurus, and used to prod me into their chosen corral of what was “holy” or “free”, “divinely feminine” or “authentically” me. 

Sex is sacred. And yet reverence for it is not measured by how much we withhold it nor by how freely we offer it. The true worship doesn’t even begin or end with the act of sex itself, but in our devotion to our body, to our pleasure, and to the desire to merge with OURSELVES through another— another body, yes, and so much more.

The urge to merge, when surrendered in truth to the sacred, reaches beyond feast of pleasure and body possessing body, beyond the destination of orgasm or its consecrated purpose of conception. Its touch can be far deeper and higher in its holy aim, and yet... the domain of our body is where this altar sits and is where we must strip ourselves naked to our wildly divine essence once again.

That begins with the sacrifice of that “Virgin” and her secreted (or not so secreted) “Slut”. These labels—though born in that ancient feminine shame when Eve was cast out and reformed into the Virgin Mother—continue to shade our sexual expression today and perhaps more than ever. The sexual revolution, in part, sent our sexual shame into hiding and repackaged it.

We may hold up our exploits and our preserved Prana as proof of liberation, and school the monogamous to loosen their buttons, but such hierarchy is evidence that the underlying wound of our perceived separation from the divine has not yet healed. Until we fully embrace our animal as divine, our sexuality will continue to be repressed or overtly expressed, and never quite hit its true g-spot— its God Spot.

Let us bring light to our sexual shame and cast IT out of the garden once and for all (and for all of us)!

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