It was January 2021 and I’d just met the woman of my dreams. Or so I thought. It sounds simple, and I wish it had been, but it really wasn’t. The reason why? I was already in a relationship – with a man.
My identity as a Black and mixed-raced woman is definable. My sexuality, on the other hand, isn’t. My preferred label is fluid. But unfortunately, we don’t live in a fluid world, we live in a world that likes straight lines and things that can be folded neatly into little boxes with bows on. In that world, I guess you would call me either bisexual, pansexual or queer.
I also call myself a sexually liberated woman. After all, I’m walking the path of exploring this hidden, taboo and completely natural phenomenon we call sex in an open and intentional way, when most people are happy to end up in an eventually sexless marriage watching television into the early evening.
No shade, do what makes you happy, but I’m not here for that. At least, not right now. I’m here to follow my heart, explore sex and relate in a way that is free from the shackles of shame, generational overhangs from our deeply repressed predecessors, and a puritanical culture been and gone.