If for Socrates questioning means love of wisdom or love for the truth, I would say my soul has been aiming for some type of that love my entire life. A sort of love that would bring understanding, not only for one another but for the whole. Comprehension, not through certainties, logically based on illogical thoughts, but by acknowledging the self-doubts, the humble curiosity existent in every human being. A kind of love that would truly see differences as fertile soil for growth. A respectful union that is not based on hypocrisy, standards, or lies. A commitment that doesn`t imply attachment, that holds individuals back, sets limits for dreaming and achieving, but pushes forward, creates healthy conflict, discussions and open communication that leads to the unknown, to an exciting life full of questions, not answers.
The physical attraction was never enough to please me, although the pleasure has been there since I remember myself as a little girl. I found my petit door for bodily joy very innocently, yet I was accused and judged guilty of touching my own body. In the contemporary world, a girl can`t feel pleasure, however, she must if the request comes from a man. Women are taught hide and seek in very odd ways, cruelly, neglecting, and abusive. We grow up in a Plato`s cave I call patriarchy, seeing only what is shown to us, having men as shadows and gods, evil ones, punishers, killers, whom we better please, no matter what. We must be kind to them, give them attention, having our bodies, minds and lives molded and served to their satisfaction. Women are raised to love men, way before they learn how to love themselves.
Oh no! The erotic love itself never satisfied me. Romantic love, this one invented by men, possessive, jealous, insecure, and destructive never meant love or even sex. Not to me. Some part of me, my naive Aphrodites child, wisely never separated love from sex. Since her first self-touch, deep down, from her spiritual awareness and connection to her real wild nature, she knew every physical connection couldn`t be good without the energy of love, and although all the hurt patriarchy has caused me on so many levels, I got to never hate men. My understanding of their insertion into this brutal structure makes me love all of them, even though I don`t like some of them sometimes.
However, it took me a lifetime to understand the patterns of relationships, and my preferences and dive into my freedom, as much as a woman can be free in this world. Although blamed for being different, for searching for my true happiness, I only allowed my body to be touched for the first time by a man who loved me. I didn`t know why back then, but I know now. My body and my mind are so sacred that no sex for pure pleasure is worth it with no intellectual or emotional connection. Then I dove deep into a love who was not real, but manipulated, domineering, that put me in a cage, and sucked my energy until there was almost nothing left, but her: my girl, my potent creative force who drives me to joy and a meaningful life.
She saved me and for such a long time, Erich Fromm\’s words beat me down in another circle of guilt established to punish women when they are the victims. Why do I need him now if I didn`t before? How have I become so weak when I was so strong, ambitious, and independent?. I thought I had lived an immature love. Well, perhaps, patriarchal love is nothing more than a bunch of people who lead the world even though they never learned how to love another human being as an equal. I did not love him immaturely, I loved him, and he took it for granted, used my love against me, slowly taking my life out of my hands, cutting my wings, letting me naked of my protection layers only for him to see, until I finally woke up and claimed my wings, my life, and my self-love back.
In my journey to find myself again, I found that my love is enormous, much more than passion, than the need to be with another body, and even the need to blame and not forgive the ones who have caused me pain. This love is almost agape, I cant love one being more than another, and my connection to nature embraces the very same love. Although, I have chosen loyalty and dedication to only one from time to time.
Interestingly, I keep being judged for using my instincts to choose who I want to enter in me, with whom I share love, if many or no one. If for a night, days, months, or years. Reciprocating energy is not selfishness, and I gave my love to all the men I have been with and even the ones who never touched me. However, selecting a person to share it with is knowing how good we are at loving, especially ourselves, and feeling what kind of love is coming from the other side, if there is any. I am no animal; I am at least a rational being who leans on the few rights that have been conceded to me in recent years to just be! Well, If I am not allowed to choose by my intuitive Aphrodite, whenever I choose to love and express it through sex, it is up to me and only me.
As for the biologisms used by old white men, mainly, to shame us for our fair desires and honest freedom while justifying their impulses to possess women and betray, I will tell you what: the amount of testosterone you argue in favour of your atrocities cant control your brain and behaviours to that level. As a biologist, I assure you that. As a woman, I dare to say that your insecurities are so big that you will seek whatever excuses you find to keep being immature at loving and go through life existing by your ego.
Nevertheless, I will keep loving, every piece of me and you, imperfect as we are, questioning the nature of our thoughts, in aNietzsche way, not because I was taught so, but because it is my will, choosing to do it closely or distantly, still waiting for a real Socratic love, that I havent really looked for, owing to the fact of I AM MY FUCKING GODDESS. There is no need to look for it.