“To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves.” –   Federico García Lorca

EDIT: This post is in the context of consenting partners, preferably in a private situation. Always stay safe, sane and consensual.

That’s all I’ve ever wanted to be. Desirable. Feeling desirable. Being desirable to someone.

Growing up in the era of girl power and being against objectification, I felt it a kind of wrong fantasy to have myself objectified in some way, shape or form. However, I knew it felt right for me and not degrading if it was this: Objectifying on my terms. Being desired on my terms.

Let me explain: It’s all in the consent. There’s a stark difference between getting dressed up (or dressed down) and feeling all sexy and gorgeous, basking in someone wanting you, as opposed to someone feeling entitled to you, your body and your sexuality, despite telling them to fuck off multiple times.

It’s embracing a part of my sexuality, embracing the fact that I am a very sexual person and there’s no shame in that. It’s something that runs deep in my bones. It’s not hurting anyone or myself. In fact, it makes me feel very much myself, so why not fully embrace it?

The last few years, I’ve been fighting against this part of myself that has played part in fantasies and sexual encounters. I suppose, with all the discussion and politics surrounding how I, a woman, should treat myself and be seen, allowing and even enjoying being objectified or desired in that way, can be seen as contentious. Hence, this is why I am explaining it today. Consent.

It’s not uncommon for this way of thinking and this, well…kink, to be considered anti-feminist. That I’m a traitor to my fellow ladies if I want to decorate my body in lacy lingerie and make a man or woman want to take it off me. Or the fantasy of dancing for someone and it’s clear they want me, and me getting turned on that I’m doing just that: Turning them on. Teasing them. Will they get to have me or won’t they? The decision is entirely up to me.

That’s the difference: Consent.