I am definitely recovering my capacity for pleasure. This shit is working.
I must admit that 50 Shades of Grey did not help as much as I had hoped. Went to see it tonight. There were some nice, detailed visual moments, but way too much shame and emotional wounding, not enough pleasure for pleasure’s sake. (Christian Grey’s mom was a crackhead prostitute? That’s why he’s that way. Opposite of sex positive, people.) Also, as many critics have noted, the lip-biting was overdone. My friend and I competed to see who could elbow the other first every time Dakota Johnson bit her very plump pink lips. This friend was also narrating Christian’s secret stalker agenda throughout the show: “Now we are going to pull over and go for a walk in the woods… because I am going to kill you in the woods. Now I have tracked you to your parents’ house. Now I am going to make you into meatballs.” Mixing stalker behavior with BDSM is like mixing bank robbery with retail therapy. No comprendo.
But 50 Shades notwithstanding, I had one of the loveliests weekends I can remember. I did things that I used to enjoy in my 20’s. I went to brunch with a friend and debriefed the night before. I walked in the sun and then went to a park and laid on the ground under the trees and looked up at the branches and felt the earth under my back for a long, long time. I breathed life back into my body. I had incredibly powerful girl time with new friends and a stranger named Tina Tokyo who, at 23, has so much together that I think things might just be okay. All weekend long, I ignored the voices of dire and duty and I breathed in pleasure, followed it, was healed by it. Telling the truth is making so much space for this, as is the slow departure of my back pain. Praise spring! Hail the birds and bees! Pasta primavera!