Match Your Energy
… your arms might be too short to box with me but I’d love to see you try.
I wasn’t trying to come off like a flirt but I also needed to flex my muscles. Flex we did. I’m not the one to mess with if you ain’t built to flex.
I forgot what it felt like to be firing on all cylinders. He threw a shot, I threw one right back him. You quick with wit, so am I. I felt like I was big game hunting. After it was over, I laughed about it. Whew, this was a missed feeling.
I’m learning to reconcile what it means to be sexual or exude sexiness or to carry sexual energy in this space and time. I don’t think that as a Christian woman I should be told to reject sexuality or bathe myself in chastity. I just care about how I feel when I let that energy out into the universe and whether I can handle what’s coming back to me.
I hate this idea that I have to act like I don’t carry sexual feelings and emotions. Especially at 32, when my body answers questions before I can even mutter a thought about what to do. So I know that when I do tap into that vat of sexual energy, it’s coming out hot. The only difference is that someone can’t be around to catch that wrath.
Here’s the thing: I match energy. You give me flirtatious pseudo-creep energy, I’ll throw it right back at you. I’m not proud of that sexual competitiveness, especially when no one can win. But it’s been a long time since I found myself in a space to do that, where I’m trying to have a dude trip over his own feet and bow out because he knows that once he goes there, he stuck for life. It’s so damn prideful but I love it. I just hate that I didn’t know this energy when I was younger.
Young Ciara wasted her sexual time. Young Ciara thought that she was in control but wasn’t. Young Ciara didn’t realize how many times she was manipulated into doing things that she didn’t want to do. I thought I was running the show but I was the puppet. A whole lot of “I got him stuck…” when really it was “I can make this girl do anything…” I was the used party, not him. In those times when I thought I had the sexual upper hand, I was really some dude’s pawn. And proud of it.
Once you see the value and the power in what you hold, not everyone is given a chance to indulge. When you see the good in what you hold, not everyone is given an opportunity to embrace. Sex with me is valuable. Sex with me is powerful. Sex is good.
No, you can’t find out. That’s how you change perspective.
So when I write about my four pillows and my celibacy journey, it’s because of the actualization and realization of what sex means to me. In all of its power and glory, withheld.
This is my attempt to write every day in July. To read more, follow the hashtag #wedj2019!