On Love and Fucks

I am currently reading “Full Exposure: Opening Up to Your Sexual Creativity and Erotic Expression” by Susie Bright and I happened upon her take on the word “fuck” as it relates to sex and our stunted issues with language and sexuality. I highly recommend this book. In response to her, to a radio show a friend was on a month ago and a recent blog post I happened upon, I wanted to write about the nature of loving and fucking, as I see it.

First, when I hear the term “making love”, I’m usually baffled. I know for some it conjures up romance, sweet nothings and silk sheets but to hear someone say that they are “making love” is like hearing someone say that they are “making truth.” Truth is truth. It can’t be made. Either it is or it isn’t. There aren’t any tricks to truth. In my opinion, its the same with love. You can’t make it. Just as you can’t “make energy”, you can’t “make love.” Are you just trying to describe the fact that your boyfriend licked your nipple instead of biting it? How is one any less loving than the other? Oh for a better way to express ourselves than outdated terminology filled with stereotypes!

What it boils down to is sex. Whether its hard, deep and fast or slow with strawberries & cream,….. that penetration, that lick, that suck and kiss is sex.

Perhaps what people mean to articulate is the intent behind the act. For example, with one partner there were times when his touch was quick, hard and slightly painful… consensually painful. Then later, his touch was soothing and healing. And upon further recollections, the first time he touched me, his hands and otherness were full of discovery and wondering. I recall another time having sex with someone where behind every thrust there was healing. These different intentions were performing the same acts. Penetration. Licking. Kissing. Nibbling. Speaking…. but the intent and sometimes the delivery were different depending on the moment.  Sometimes in one night I experienced five different intention filled acts from a lover. Whether I was being spanked or whispered too, neither were any less full of love than the other.

I know there is the perspective that perhaps what people mean when they say “making love” has to do with a more emotional, spiritual connection versus simply “fucking” someone. I say bullshit. Every time I’ve had sex, some emotion was a part of the equation. I find it also impossible to separate my spirit from my actions, so whether I’m biting a man’s lip with an aggressive undertone or sucking his… finger with grace, my spirit is engaged. All of my sexual actions, at least now that I have grown the fuck up, are passionate, seductive, deliberate and intentional. My spirit, my core and my emotions are engaged, whether I have a committed relationship with the person or not. I’ve loved a man before where once the sex lacked everything. Our connection wasn’t there.  And I’ve dated someone with no interest in commitment where the sex had me paralyzed with delight and passion and I couldn’t understand how we could reach such depths of physicality and connection upon the first time in engaging with sex. I believe that has to do with chemistry, attraction, experience, knowledge and self awareness. It had nothing to do with whether I loved him or he loved me.

Whether I love you or not sex is sex.

Whether I love you or not, biting you with fiery passion is biting. It’s not a fuck or a notion of making love.

Whether I love you or not, massaging you with healing, sensual hands is what it is. I’m not creating more love or negating a fuck. I’m massaging you.

We like labels and categories and organizing things and separating things. Its how we find “legitimate” ways to highlight our elevated status of what love is or how we nay nay the bad girls who like to fuck, even if that bad girl is our own self. It’s how we make sense of our selves. Its easier to say some days, “this is making love” and other days, “this is fucking” because then we can separate our actions. This is a sin and this is not. This is one thing and this is another. Today, I’m fucking and tomorrow I’ll love. Its more complicated and yet more interesting, freeing and engaging though, to hear a person fully embrace all their actions without the need for labels and categories. Sometimes I want gentleness and sometimes I want aggression. All is full of love.

Who gives a fuck how the sex happens from one night to the next or one moment to the next, love is love. Either its there or not. Whether it is or not, the sex can still be spiritually connected, can still be aggressively awesome or softly whatever. Sex is sex. Love is love. Fuck you very much!

These are my opinions. LUCKILY, there is no expert on the matter. When you do find someone with a PhD in Fucking, please let me know. I’d like to be their friend.

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