The loss
Of my eroticism
Is hard, and harsh
When it happens
I know
Regardless of my level of conscious
denial
I am,
in, a very
Very
Bad way
Because it’s always
the last thing to go

The numbness
The not being able to feel
The disconnect between myself
And my unique sexuality
Leaves a space
That is no longer filled with joy
A space
That becomes instead an empty,
yawning void.

My eroticism
Sex, orgasms, fantasies, masturbation
Are my stress relievers
My feel gooders
My feel fabulousers
And my connection
To who I am

That connection was severed again.
It’s occasionally happened before.
Sometimes out of voluntary necessity,
but this time it wasn’t.
This time it was bought on
by circumstances, which,
I don’t need to go into
right now.
And it happened
of its own volition.

But that feeling and connection
Was eventually somehow taken away
After the loss of joy
The loss of confidence
The feelings of failure
The feelings of having been beaten down
One too many times
After all that
Then my sexual connection to myself
Went too.

I wanted her back
She is so important to me
She helps me
She is such a significant part of me.
But she became
Paralysed.

I know she hasn’t gone completely now,
Because she’s started to
Pop up
Sometimes at the most unexpected times
Creating that tingle
Causing that smile
Calling my name
To come,
Immerse myself,
And enjoy.

She’s creeping back out
But still so cautiously
For sex, orgasms, eroticism
Are
What can make you feel
The most powerful
And the most vulnerable
At the same time

And she still keeps asking me
Is it safe again yet?

– Judi Reed, 2015