“By letting go of what you thought was going to happen in your life, you can enjoy what is actually happening.” – Taylor Negron

Being sex-negative doesn't mean that I fancy myself the chief inspector of the sex police, or that I am personally judging what you do in bed, or that I'm conservative, or that I'm engaging in repressive moralizing. It doesn't mean that I hate sex workers, or that I want to ban sex work or porn (and, in general, I tend to leave those conversations to women who do sex work while I shut up and listen to what they have to say). It doesn't mean that I hate sex or that I'm embarrassed by it. What it does, in fact, mean is that the way you fuck is not "private," apolitical, or outside the realm of critique. Sex does not happen in a vacuum immune to outside structural influences; in fact, it can (and does) replicate inescapable systems of power and dominance.

If it weren't for the ordeals in my life, I would never have made it back around to faith. Religion is in some ways borne of suffering. It helps us find meaning in pain. I was raised with a God who condemns you to hell, but as an adult I met the God who pulls you out of it. By that token, my relationship with a higher power today is basically nothing like the religion I grew up with. I don't fully understand my higher power; I believe the concept may be too vast for me to fully understand. I am comfortable with its shifting nature: One day I feel God is the force of love in the world, another day I consider it to be the objective existence of right and wrong. It's a concept I develop and redevelop. I know that God is definitely not shame, or intolerance, or a rigid set of rules to govern my behavior and force on others. It's not about how often I am in a church building or who sees me there. It's about looking out my window, as I am right now and seeing the trees with their leaves beginning to turn a burnt orange, and the rain pouring down into pools on the sidewalk, and beyond this the park, and the babies and dogs who play there. It's about looking at all those things and acknowledging that I didn't create them and I can't control them, any more than I can control the circumstances of my life, the tragedies that may come and when they will befall me, the year I will be gone from this Earth, or even tomorrow's weather. And if I can't control these things, whatever does is certainly higher than me. It's about letting go of my fear and need for control and trusting that I will move through whatever happens. It's about learning to accept and adapt to life's events, instead of raging against them. It's about knowing I will be taken care of. And each morning, when I bow my head, and again each evening, it's about saying first "Please," and then later, "Thank you."