We Will Teach Our Daughters About the Sacredness of Female Sexuality
Embedded in latin American culture is hyper masculinity and an acute awareness of the desires of heterosexual males. It’s inescapable. It’s in our music, art, casual conversations, and everywhere in between. Paired with it, however, is an oppressive approach to bury the sacred power of women.
The compassionate and sympathetic approaches that are intrinsically found in our mothers, tia’s, abuelas, and in us, are often kept out of important moments of decision making. As a result, we too often find ourselves in shaky realities. How could we not be? There’s no hint of us to reflect the necessary balance required for stability. The most disheartening norm within this archetype is the generational suppression of the sacredness that is female sexuality. Women are not allowed to come to terms with their innate sexual character. Instead, their sexual roles are taught and portrayed to be only in pursuit of mastering the tantalization of men and using their bodies as a means of reproduction. This complex yet venerable aspect of womanhood is muted, leaving an entire reality omitted.
Century after century matrons have been robbed of their ability to connect with their own interpretation of pleasure. They’ve become cautious of exploring their own bodies and expression because doing so is an infallible path into the unknown, but the curiosity never dies. Why? Because at birth women already possess the ability to eventually connect with the holiness that is their sexual expression. When allowed to thrive, it is a healing and nurturing aspect of what it means to be a woman, however, most are never given that opportunity. So much so that mothers begin to panic when breasts and hips begin to poke because they understand the psychological and hormonal changes that come soon after. They intimately know the powers of our bodies, but they too can only perceive it as being used as tools to lure men, not ever considering that our goddess like figures and organs were also made for us. To protect us, our female elders, insist that we cover up, they terrify us with stories of shunned putas y niños creado fuera de matrimonio as a means of dissipating any considerations we may have of exploring our sexual nature. Is it all because men would prefer it this way? Can they not fathom a world where they couldn’t use our sexual expression and majestic bodies as weapons against us? I think not, because even when we do, they confuse our confidence for solicitation and invitations, many times forcefully tainting our sacredness and embedding scars of trespass into our souls.
The Yoruba had Oshun, the Greeks had Aphrodite, the Aztecs had Xochiquetzal, Xocotzin, and Xochipilli. But what about us? Why were we left with no women to reflect back to us such divine parts of our nature? Somewhere along the road we were forced to lose a part of ourselves. For centuries our beautiful ancestors have muted a holy part of themselves and for generations after, we’ve had to bear that cross. All the while knowing that there was a piece of us that was never explored and slowly coming to terms with the fact that we likely never will. We hesitantly asked questions to validate our sexual selves, but were simply told to cerrar las piernas because that’s the only advice that’s ever been passed down. Can we really say that that approach ever really worked?
For many of us, our sexual desires peaked anyway, but we weren’t equipped with knowledge of our divinity. That part of who we are was never cultivated and fed. The talk about how sex with negative partners interrupts our own energy, how the way we connect isn’t always binary, and how our yoni’s were pathways to our overall well being never came about. Instead, we wrestled with uncomfortable feelings after we shared ourselves because too often it took away more than it gave. All along, we tried to make sense of sex through the eyes of men. We assumed that their definition of pleasure undoubtedly resulted in our own, although it never felt quite right. But, where were we to go to explore answers when our querida madres, tias, abuelas, hermanas y amigas were just as lost? They too were never gifted with the awareness to understand that their spiritual and sexual selves could come together. They had no clue that dignifying sex could provide them with confidence, not just fleeting pleasure, or worse, shame and guilt.
In Latinx communities being born a female is too often a disappointment, but it’s because nobody has called BS on the intentional masking of our divine power. Not only do we have the keen ability to be natural peacekeepers, the nucleus of our families, and anything we want to be--we also have an untapped way of moving in the world. There is an element of who we are that has been locked away out of fear and ignorance for far too long and it’s time we open pandora’s box. We, the new generation of women represent rebirth. Many of us are choosing to confront the mysterious nuances of our desires with only our feminine intuition guiding the exploration. So much so, that the older women we so deeply love are kept in the dark because they’d never understand the implications of this uniqueness. There will come a day where we will birth daughters and witness the evolution of their femininity. Lucky for them, we will teach our daughters about the sacredness of female sexuality. We will break the cycle of shame, secrecy, and omitted realities. We will teach them to be women on their terms.
WORDS BY CAT LANTIGUA
Cat Lantigua is a Dominican-American writer and podcaster committed to empowering women and enabling millennial greatness. Through her various platforms she encourages and facilitates vulnerable and meaningful discussions to assist in broadening modern day perspectives. She candidly expresses her mind on social issues and publishes inspiring interviews with some of the worlds most promising women. She is inspired by the power of sisterhood and is dedicated to building one on and offline!