I’ve never been good at doing what I’m told. I don’t toe the line just because someone tells me to. I love to take risks and push envelopes.
When I was 10, my parents got a phone call that changed everything. On the other end of the call were my best friend’s parents. They told my parents that they believed I was a bad influence on their daughter and that I was never permitted to see her again.
Turns out, they had invaded her privacy and read a letter I’d written to her. In the letter, I shared about a dream I had. Pretty harsh — to be punished for something that came to me in a dream; something that I didn’t even do.
The dream was an erotic dream. My first one ever, I think. In the dream, I remember I was hiding with a boy, inside these tall, red velvet curtains. Almost like the wings of a stage. And once we were out of sight, he put his hand inside my underwear and slowly slid his finger inside me. In the dream, my pussy was wet, which was a curious thing to me, since I couldn’t have possibly known that about female sexuality yet.
The dream fascinated and excited me. So, I shared it with my best friend in a letter. She and I always told each other everything. The sad thing is, I never did see her again.
Today, my expression is about embodying that curiosity that was forbidden from me. We’re now seeing a new wave of censorship laws concerning certain types of expression online, namely sexual and sensual, even if artistic. The sense in this censorship is lost on me.
I want to welcome you to a world where the only things that are not welcome are shame and judgement. A place where we can explore, dream, and play. And where we can finally bridge the divide between art and sexuality.