“LADY CHEEKY’S SEX SATORI” from THE RUMPUS

 

Photo by Gene Reed

Photo by Gene Reed

BY   4/5/13

Orginally appeared on TheRumpus.net  

Tweet sex sites are a many splendored thing, opening doors to fluid identities that are both sexy and risk-free while erecting an emotional firewall to avoid real, personal rejection. My hackles go up whenever I think about technology replacing human touch, but when I met Lady Cheeky and heard her story of seeking and finding passion via tweet sex, I witnessed a brave new world where one woman’s sexuality was accessed in an accelerated way that involved wooing, teasing, and palpable passion.

“Lady Cheeky” is her Anglophile cybersex identity name, where she is a servant/vessel/wench. We met on the floor at Marilyn Friedman’s essay writing workshop, which I signed up for during a dark time. After dozens of agent rejections flooded my inbox for over a year, I longed to sit in a room with other writers again, hoping to inject my writing with joy by learning new literary tricks from veteran journalist, Taffy Brodesser-Akner. Our assignment was to tell the group what our essay was about and then say one more line declaring what our essay was “really” about.

Lady Cheeky’s wavy, Lucille Ball hair matched her bright red lips. Her curves punched out of her ’40s frock, as she told a hilarious topsy-turvy tale about role-playing on a True Blood-themed, Twitter-based direct message and tweet stream, which led her to start her smart and sexy websites where she met “Lord Byron,” hired a P.I. to check another lover out, and divorced her husband. She also overcame a rare sexual disorder; started a popular sensual images blog; began writing and publishing real-life erotica based on her new, passion-filled experiences; is in the process of working on a memoir; has a new story in Rachel Kramer Bussel’s upcoming erotica anthology, The Big Book of Orgasm; and is currently speaking about body image and sensuality, as well as integrative sensuality.

Lady Cheeky’s story beneath the story was flesh and bone ache deriving from a phantom limb that was pummeled awake by HBO’s True Blood series. I wanted to know more about how True Blood was the springboard to becoming a sexually actualized woman, capable and deserving of passion.

… To read the rest of the interview, CLICK HERE:logo-sm

Melissa McCarthy, Rex Reed and Identity Thief’s “Hippogate”

Photo: Mary Rozzi

Photo: Mary Rozzi

By Elle “Lady Cheeky” Chase

I shook my head recently when I read about New York Observer film critic, Rex Reed’s personal insult toward actress Melissa McCarthy.   In a review of her latest offering, Identity Thief  he called her “tractor-sized” and as big as a “hippo.”  Isn’t it interesting, I thought, that a man, who himself is part of a marginalized and often supressed segment of society wields his pejoratives so freely when directed toward another similarly ill-regarded community; the “un-thin” or “un-commercial.” The part of our population that still hides in a closet of self-hatred.   The part of our population, fearful that they won’t be accepted or seen for anything other than their physical appearance. You don’t have to be overweight to be part of our collective; you just have to have a self-loathing of some physical feature you feel you possess.  Surely, this is something that everyone can relate to at some point in their lives and certainly, unless he was blessed to have grown up amongst royalty, Rex Reed himself must have had to deal with.

And that’s when I realized that Mr. Reed‘s subjugation of Ms. McCarthy could only rex_reed.JPG.728x520_q85come from his own self-hatred.  Think of the little boy who is constantly bullied in the schoolyard.  Done often enough and without appropriate correction, that bullied little boy internalizes the hateful words spewed toward himself and those words becomes part of what I call his “life tape;” subconscious lessons we learn about ourselves from the outside world.  Negative, untrue messages like these, left unchecked become the villains to our self worth.   Sometimes making us strike out against others in order to ease the pain of our own misperceived failings.

This gave me some compassion toward Mr. Reed, for it must be monumental self-loathing that gave him license to personally attack another based on her appearance.  And to do it in a such a public forum.  Only another person who had not processed the misfortune of being so inelegantly treated himself would have the capacity to do the same thing in such a righteous and flagrant a manner.  But this incident brings up a deeper issue. Those of us with self-esteem or body issues.  Those of us who have been through years of therapy, read the latest self-help books and prayed for self acceptance at the local house of worship.  Are we ever really free from the self-judgement?  Does the “life tape” ever get erased or does the sound, though faint and scratchy, still remain buried in our psyche?

Andre MalrauxQuote

Recently, I went out to breakfast with my good friend Evan. It was a cloudy and cold L.A. day and I was feeling emotional and depressed. PMS had reared its ugly head and I was using all my emotional energy to keep the hateful thoughts in my brain from permeating my day and my time with Evan.

Evan and I dated briefly and soon decided that we made better friends than lovers (well, friends that occasionally kiss with tongue). Since then, he has been a trusted confidant and steadfast supporter … everything you want in a buddy.  Even though we were platonic, Evan always treated me like a sexy, desirable and smart woman.  It felt good to go out with Evan. We’d do movie nights and dinners and though we were chaste, he always made it known that he thought I was hot. What girl wouldn’t love that?

By the time our eggs arrived, we were engaging in silly and entertaining conversation.  Pop culture trivia, favorite movies, cool hangouts, teenage angst, and then Evan posed this question to me: “Who would you want to play you in the movie of your life?”  Hmmm, I’d never thought about it.  Evan thought for a minute and then an almost visible light bulb appeared over his head, “I got it! That chick from Bridesmaids!”

“Awww, bless his heart” I thought, “He thinks Kristen Wiig should play me.”  I was flattered. Kristin Wiig was one of my favorites on Saturday Night Live and I loved her in Bridesmaids. She was funny, talented and cute.  My heart warmed.  Evan added, “You know … that woman on Mike & Molly

My heart sank.  He, in fact, did NOT mean Kristen Wiig, he meant the very plus-sized Melissa McCarthy. In a nano-second the realization that the man across from me who has seen me naked, has equated me with a “fat girl.”  I started to cry.

Photo: Mary Rozzi

Photo: Mary Rozzi

Now let me be clear, Melissa McCarthy is every bit as cute, talented and funny as Kristen Wiig, however Melissa McCarthy happens to be a woman of size.  I was angry with myself for being so upset. I was a self-proclaimed, body & sex-positive advocate.  One of my biggest causes has been for women of all shapes and sizes to integrate self-esteem and realize their inherent sexuality (and worth) regardless of shape or weight.  Yet, here I was, apparently feeling slighted that Evan viewed me as a “fat chick.”  He immediately felt horrible that he made me cry and I was more than ok with that.  I was offended and hurt and my ego was bruised.  Evan back-pedaled, and in an effort to stop my tears he grabbed my hands across the table and said he thought of her because she’s so “funny and sexy and pretty.”  “Oh you did not,” I snapped.  “You thought of her because she’s big. I’m not as big as that!”  Evan was speechless. I groaned and excused myself to go to the bathroom to gather my fat self.

I stood in front of the streaky diner mirror and reviewed myself in vile self-loathing.  I felt ugly.  I felt worthless and I felt like a fraud.  I was embarrassed that I had automatically reacted this way when being compared to an extremely talented woman who happens to be fat.  Closing my eyes and holding onto the sides of the sink with my head hung low I took some deep breaths and started to do some quick inner self-examination.  “What are you really feeling? Where is it coming from?  And is it true?” I asked myself.

The first thing that entered my mind was that I was feeling shame … Indignant, unlovable, undesirable and unworthy.  I immediately remembered all the boys is elementary and middle school that commented on my big butt and preferred to date the tanned, athletic surfer girls to the pale, soft theatre-nerd that was me … ahhhh, that’s where it was coming from.  I lifted my head and looked in the mirror again.  “Is it true?” I asked myself.  I squinted and took a long breath.  From deep within my self I heard a tiny, barely audible voice say “No. It’s not.”  It surprised me that even after many years of criticism from the opposite sex and myself,  that this little voice could even be heard.  I guess the 20 years of therapy had sunk in.

I could feel the truth of the little voice.  I could understand her intention.  The reality is that I really am beautiful regardless of the size of my hips.  I have had proof of this on a subjective level from ex-lovers and boyfriends but more importantly I’ve had proof of this by what I saw in myself.  For in that bathroom, looking into my mascara-stained reflection, I realized that even though my ego had a flashback to old feelings and modalities that I had identified with for so long  … that in this diner bathroom feeling pre-menstrual, emotionally taxed and having just had a surprising crying-jag, I came to more fully understand in that moment that as bad as I felt at the time, I still felt sexy.  I did!  I couldn’t believe it.  It was possible to be healing an old wound while at the same time recognize a newly realized truth.

I re-joined Evan at the table, refreshed and much more cogent than when I left.  He was a puppy with his tail between his legs until I explained the catharsis I just had.  Evan’s body un-tensed and he became energized, jubilant and seemed oddly proud that he had something to do with this “satori.”  Nothing had changed.  To Evan, I was always smart, funny, sexy … no matter what size I was, that’s how he saw me (subjective) because that’s how I saw myself (objective).  I saw myself that way because of a lot of good therapy, hard work and self-inventory that proved to me that those features were indisputable.

Nothing’s perfect, there will always be people (and sometimes even myself) who don’t see that in me (subjective) and that’s fine, it doesn’t mean it’s less true (objective).  And there will always be times when something someone says or does will trigger old wounds with a repeat reaction.  But, the point is, it is just a reaction from times long gone and just like when Craig Michaels called me a “lard-ass” (subjective) it has nothing to do with who I really am (objective).  Who I really am is a woman with flaws, but those flaws don’t make me any less worthy or any less lovable or any less beautiful or in Ms. McCarthy’s case any less talented.  It’s those flaws that make me the special package that (at least when I’m not PMS-ing) I realize I am.

Which brings me back to shaking my head as I read Rex Reed’s review of Melissa McCarthy’s physique.  I’m human, I can’t say I don’t harbor some displeasure toward Mr. Reed, but it’s more like the exasperation you feel toward a child when they throw their Spaghettios across the room for the third time. You can’t dislike a child for his actions because – he’s just a child … he’s not working with fully developed facilities. I feel the same way toward Mr. Reed. After reading his review I just click to another screen and remind myself of a quote by French writer Andre Malraux “The attempt to force human beings to despise themselves is what I call hell.” In my perception, this must be the place that Mr. Reed wrote his review from. I just hope that in the future he might move to a brighter location.

Photo by Gene Reed

Photo by Gene Reed

As a writer, Elle Chase (Lady Cheeky) has been featured on Fleshbot and is a regular contributor to the online magazine EvolvedWorld.com. Elle will soon have an erotic short story appear in the upcoming Rachel Kramer Bussel anthology The Big Book of Orgasm (Cleis Press, Sept 2013) and an article in next month’s issue of Corset Magazine on pornography vs. erotica. She has also won the Domi Dollz True Tales of Erotica competition, and will be seen in the upcoming CBC documentary Women and Porn. Elle will be speaking as part of a panel of women on Sex and Body Image at CatalystCon: Sparking Communication in Sexuality, Activism and Acceptance in Washington DC, March 17, 2013.
Twitter: @Lady_Cheeky | Facebook: The Lady Cheeky Fan Page |  Website: www.LadyCheeky.com  | LinkedIn: Elle “Lady Cheeky” Chase

Weightless

tumblr_m7ov4wY6tU1rp1nr2o1_500By Lady Cheeky

I posted this picture recently on my blog, Lady Cheeky. Underneath the photo I typed the word “Gorgeous.” When I blog my photos, I do it rather quickly as I only blog the images I, personally think are sexy. I don’t always comment on photos I post, but when I do it’s because a word or a feeling comes to mind and I add the comment as effortlessly as I would if I were having conversation.

On this day, again without thinking, I posted the comment “GORGEOUS” on this sensual photo of a very zaftig woman laying on her side with a naked man behind her. I thought the image was beautiful and the body, with all it’s texture and curves was gorgeous. Even though my porn site is body-positive, I still get the regular lookie-loos that just want to see the graphic images. That’s fine, I like them too. To each his/her own. But when comments attacking someone’s size, either skinny or large, deluge my in-box, it always makes me roll my eyes and sigh. Today wasn’t the first time I received un-kind words regarding a photo I posted. But today I recognized a change in how I see them.

When I’ve receive these blistering notes, I don’t get angry, I don’t get offended, I don’t get depressed or antagonistic or vindictive. I never feel attacked, less-than or judged. And because I also share some of the characteristics of the picture I posted, I could sit here in self-hate and use the rapacious insults to validate all that I think is wrong with me.  In fact, in the past I would have. But instead, I feel like a climber that has reached the top of a small but difficult mountain, looking out to azure skies and tree-topped valleys upon the vast landscape upon which holds the secret of my next trek.

London Andrews

London Andrews

Today, when I see these comments in my in-box I feel validated and liberated and secure because I know that I’ve overcome thinking of my round, soft and curvy body as less desirable, less sensual and less important than the average-sized women I used to compare myself to. I feel free from the drama in my head of constantly worrying if my lover will walk out the door when he sees my stomach … naked without the Spanx binding it in. Feeling confident that I am attractive because I feel sexy in my own skin “knowing” of who I am as a woman is the payoff of years and years of hard inner and practical work.

Today, when I post a gorgeous photo of a nude woman, laid out in all her vulnerable, sexy nakedness … a woman who resembles me much more than a traditionally sized woman, I no longer take in the “fatty” or the “whale” or “the lazy whore needs to go to the gym” comments because for every nasty comment gets lodged at me for what I personally think is gorgeous, I get a comment like this: “That picture that you said “Gorgeous” I have almost the same body as her. It made me smile.”

THAT made ME smile and made my day. It reminded me of a quote by Mary VonEbner-Eschenbach: “In youth we learn; In age we understand.”  Today in my Oprah “Aha moment” I see that no matter how small your contribution is to pursue a purpose you believe in (for me, my little blog) you still have the capacity to make a stranger smile and even potentially piss-off the ignorant at the same time. And that makes my younger-self feel weightless and my present self feel very, very grateful for the capacity to finally understand.

 

 

 

 

 

Carpe Sex! How To Change Your Sexual Attitude

By Lady Cheeky

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Ahhh January – the crisp, bracing air, the relief that the holidays are behind us and the optimistic promise of a whole new year ahead. Each January my friends, colleagues and nosy grocery store clerks ask me the dreaded question “have you made any New Year’s resolution’s?” My reply is always the same one I give for anyone asking me my age “Fine thank you”. The confused look on their faces never ceases to amuse me as I slink away; proud I’ve escaped answering that question yet again.

I’m not a big fan of New Year’s resolutions. I’ve always been an immediate gratification gal and didn’t make the yearly over-promise because it always seemed too high aiming and unachievable in a satisfying amount of time … at least for this impatient writer.

Yet, I can’t deny there is some wisdom in making a resolution and sticking to it. The discipline and drive to commit to an immediate improving of one’s condition is a great way to ameliorate … Click HERE to read the rest of the article on EVOLVED WORLD!

 

Vulnerability, the last taboo?

By Cyndi Darnell   Originally published on www.CyndiDarnell.com on 5/30/12

In fragile times, it’s often our most intimate and close relationships that suffer. Intimacy is the glue, the enhancer that gives us the drive to connect, and in many situations, also the factor that can be a passion killer for some and the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

I have been reflecting a lot recently on what it means to be intimate with someone, what vulnerability is and how honesty plays a role in all of this. This of course in turn affects the way we can approach sex, but of course not all of our relationships are sexual or erotic, but that doesn’t have to mean they lack intimacy. Intimacy has many faces which can be misunderstood or worse still, ignored when we only relate to intimacy as something sexual or erotic. Intimacy is the essence, the determining factor that decides how close someone gets to us and what we’re prepared to do or share to maintain it.

Intimacy comes from sharing and bonding. People share and bond in hundreds of ways; from a drink at the pub, to a long, lazy dinner , to a friendship that has been cultivated over years, a cry on a shoulder, a rewarding hug, a sporting win  or a love of the same activities, revealing a truth about yourself that you trust another person to take care of, asking for help , asking for attention or allowing yourself to be seen as you really are, flaws and all, in the hope that you won’t be judged for it.

Whilst most of us have these requirements at different stages in our lives, very few are able to acknowledge this need within ourselves, let alone share it with others. It can often be the core of a nagging internal voice that manifests as only a hum or faint murmur rather than bolt of clarity. It can also be the trigger that releases aggressive outbursts, where words said, are later regretted because it’s easier to cast the uncomfortable sensation / feeling out and onto another, than to claim it as our own. It’s easier to blame others than to take a little agency, and while at times this is effective; what is the long-term cost? When this is the perpetual default setting, there is no recourse.Your default setting is powerlessness.

The rise of anxiety among not only Australians, but Westerners in general as a primary emotional default saddens me, but does not surprise me as we become less and less intimate, less and less able to acknowledge our own feelings and thus less able to share with others or learn how to listen to others without judging, being judged or feeling attacked.

While I generally tend to avoid binaries of any kind as a measure for looking at the world, it seems when it comes to emotions, we have only two options. We either allow them to be there, accept them, in all their discomfort and learn to work with them rather than against them; (thus having control over them or even better still, a relationship with them); or we can ignore them. (The latter in my experience can only last for so long before manifestations of ill health become apparent; excessive anxiety, delusion, sleeplessness, depression and a general corrosion of relationships as a result of any one or all of these things.) Shakespeare grasped the ultimate quandary: To Be or Not To Be, that IS in fact the ultimate question, the question that hundreds of years later we still philosophically ponder, but most of us avoid for the sheer terror of facing our internal truth, our shadow, that which makes us vulnerable.

So what is this vulnerability that can make even the most mighty a quivering wreck, or the mostfeeble a guilt-ridden avoider, keen to maintain the facade or status quo at any price, even their own well-being?

Vulnerability for many may be the shadow, the hidden that which dare not be revealed, OR it may also be the default, wherein manipulation and carelessness can take centre stage to avoid speaking a truth that is more confronting, potentially freeing but also downright terrifying to the inexperienced.

The vulnerability I am talking about here is the genuine kind, not the ‘’tantrum’’ or ‘’drama’’ kind where the protagonist is actually quite capable of helping themselves, but prefers instead to use manipulation or passive/ aggressive tactics to get their needs met consciously or unconsciously. True vulnerability here is acknowledging what is actually going on in the relationship in question, whether the relationship is with the Self or another. Vulnerability is a resource to actually achieve a mutually beneficial outcome rather than as a tool to wage messy, dirty conflict.

Vulnerability needn’t equate to meekness Being vulnerable is actually one of the most assertive things I for one have ever done. Having the gumption to tell someone I love them, to tell them I miss them to tell them I am angry with them is absolutely fucking terrifying when I don’t know whether or not I will be heard or acknowledged. (This of course requires that such statements are made as declarations rather than ultimatums or any kind of manipulation.) Acknowledgement of another person’s feelings is a vital part of communication and creating intimacy through vulnerability. If / when you acknowledge that you are actually valuable in another person’s life, you are then compelled to be responsible for your own responses and behaviour toward them. Acknowledging responsibility is an act of both vulnerability and power. Pretending it doesn’t matter that someone you’re close to just told you how they feel is not only inharmonious it’s also a form of rejection and an inhibitor to intimacy. They wouldn’t have been close to you in the first place if you didn’t actually care about them.

For example, we can all think of situations where for one reason or another we have wanted, or even needed to be taken care of in some way, shape or form, to be soothed if you like, or just supported and appreciated for a day, a night, a month, a life time. Where a need to be understood was crucial, but where the ability to recognise that need was impossible because the mere thought of allowing such a realisation was too much to bear. It was only with hindsight that we realised what we needed, but were too fearful to acknowledge it; instead judging our own feeling for example as ‘’weak’’ or ‘’inappropriate’’, rather than seeing it for what it is, a basic human desire to be understood and acknowledged. Somehow to admit our humanness is weak, is animalistic, is dangerous. My belief is that not acknowledging our feelings is far, far, far more dangerous. As my dear friend Cath says: What you resist; persists! I can think of few cases where this is not a universal truth. When your strongest motivator is actually also your blind spot, communication can get very very messy.

So where do we go from here? The concept of acceptance has been around for ages, thousands of years in fact. Buddhists cottoned-on to it yonks ago, and have been its greatest advocates ever since. Recently psychologists have decided it’s OK too, even beyond OK; downright effective! Good stuff! So we finally have science and spirit intersecting. (For the atheists who walk among us, substitute the word ‘spirit ‘for ‘feeling’ instead). So, what does this mean for us lay-people? It means two things that I can see so far. One is, we have one of the most powerful tools available to us to give ourselves the leverage to get a bit real with ourselves and stop pissing-about on the edges, and Two, it enables us to understand that being honest with ourselves first, and then with others (whilst being a bit scary at times), is actually a very assertive practice, and at times, a whole lot harder than running in on the defensive, but ultimately more fulfilling and anxiety reducing!

Are you more powerful when you act or re-act? Who is more powerful,  the initiator or the reactor? When it comes to relationships (not just sexual ones, remember?) the most effective work can be achieved when we take action, rather than just re-action. When our default is thoughtful, emotive and inspired rather than an act of defence strategy and one-upping, we are operating from a place of creativity and agency.

Here’s the thing; a wise teacher once asked me and I will ask you; Do you want to be rightOR Do you want to be close? Depending of your values, you may struggle with choosing between what may seem to be opposing alternatives. Sometimes (but not always) you can’t be both. Sometimes you just have to accept what is there, without judging it. Your answer to that question may actually be a cause of vulnerability for you…………… and so the cycle starts again.

The old adage we teach what we most need to learn rings absolutely true. I have spent years working through issues of accepting and embracing my vulnerability. It’s still a challenge for me, but I’ve been practicing for years and it gets better and easier. Believe me. I spent years feeling nervous, anxious and profoundly deranged trying to keep all the plates spinning, while trying to look cool as a cucumber. Will I ever have it totally mastered? Probably not! But then again, I don’t know that mastering emotions is the kind of goal I am looking to achieve anyway. Emotions by their very nature are erratic and arousing. Some are pleasant, others are not. But emotions in their essence are a necessary part of life, as necessary and water, air, food and sleep, yet these things are not judged as invalid, in the way that emotions often are. Feelings add value, colour and texture to what would otherwise be rather rudimentary and cardboard lives. Why would anyone want to dominate the one thing that gives their life its authenticity, its spark and its vigour. Conversely, being a slave to one’s emotions is also unsavoury and potentially deadly. Common Sense is calledcommonsense for a reason. It’s everywhere and everyone has access to it………. in theory at least! Learning to allow access to feelings, process them and foster acceptance is where the magic lies. Find the edge, find the distance you’re prepared to get to, wait and see. Don’t judge it, don’t push it. Just wait and see. …………………. What CAN you see? Let me know.

Cyndi Darnell: I have always been a pleasure enthusiast. For as far back as I can remember, my fascination with pleasure and sexuality has been part of my identity. Having travelled the world extensively in my 20s in the pursuit of self-knowledge and then my 30s exploring more introspective wonders and delights, I have come to embrace the understanding that sexuality and pleasure is not something separate from our lives, but part of our lives as a pathway to genuine wholeness, contentment and wellbeing.

My pursuit of quality sex-knowledge has led me down a variety of avenues to get the expert and diverse know-how I have today. From the dedicated hands on approach I took during the 1990s through workshops, seminars (including Sexological Bodywork and contemporary tantra) and good old fashioned trial and error; through to the academic and clinical studies I have completed in the 2000s in both general counselling and specialist clinical sex therapy, I am thrilled to be able to bridge the world of sexology from a variety of perspectives and approaches that embrace, understand and challenge the diversity of human sexuality.

I am also the founder and creator of Pleasure Forum Australia , a monthy  adult to adult sex education program where the emphasis is on pleasure and practical education, not sleaze and clinical theory. More recently my educational and therapeutic skills have been heard on Australia’s Triple J radio program The Hack for Sex Week, as well as working with Australia’s most outspoken darling,Catherine Deveny, on a series of free-to-air educational podcasts about sex, pleasure and the human condition. I am a mentor for the Minus 18 Sex Gurus, a queer  sex and health project for young queer identifying and gender questioning people. I work predominantly in Melbourne, but also offer my workshops and therapeutic sessions across Australia and globally via Skype.