feministpasta
2 min readOct 17, 2021

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Chinatown // Ohlone land — Oakland, CA, USA — 2020

Feelings of mutual appreciation, depth of emotional intimacy, and curiosity, were floating in the space between us and lingering in the blankets warmed by the platonic embrace of our bodies, juxtaposing my longing for love, solitude, and hope that with time he would understand that my entirety could fill the missing piece.

The heaviness followed throughout the coming days, in the form of tightness in my chest, a lump in my throat, warm tears, and writing. “All this, and we didn’t even fuck,” I said to my nurturing housemate who wore gold hoops that were as big as the sun as we shared lunch, as if fucking would have made the heartbreak worth it. As the afternoon light poured and our garden flourished, I found comfort in me and him potentially being sexually incompatible.

Safety and affirmations led me to be vulnerable. Vulnerability to liberation. Liberation to ecstasy. The crash from that was draining, engulfed me in burnout, killed my appetite, and triggered fixations. I wondered how many more of these experiences I would let myself endure, though the untamed passion of my lineage would make these experiences inevitable. Passion pulsed through my work, relationships, and my engagement with joy and pleasure. Passion took me places I never thought I could reach. Passion starved me. Passion caused me to lose myself. Passion led me to find myself.

I pulled tarot cards, meditated, set intentions, ran fast on the treadmill, jumped in the cold ocean, nourished my body, and connected with my community. I did not delete the dating apps, though I knew I needed to at some point in order to eliminate the mindless swiping that distracted me from my genuine manifestation for a romantic partnership. This manifestation was not rooted in anxious attachment, but in the seeds of the sweet fruit of my healing process.

I identified and engaged with my whole self through the ongoing inner work, and honored her warmth and security. My whole self acknowledged the critic who judged her out of insecurity, but did not allow them to instill negative energy into her desire. My whole self showed empathy towards the needy self who sought validation from her, and opened the door to them towards unconditional love. Accepting the relationship of this holy trinity housed within my body and mind was a liberatory act of radical self-love. I pulled myself towards myself and embodied the phrase, “I love my entirety.”

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feministpasta

Global health professional. Founder and Creative Director at Venus in Cancer. Committed to fostering joy, aesthetic force, and health equity.