How Writing Erotica is a Practice of Self Love (not that kind)

How Writing Erotica is a Practice of Self Love (not that kind)

HOW WRITING EROTICA IS A PRACTICE OF SELF LOVE (BUT NOT THAT KIND)  by Sage L Mattison | http://sagelmattison.com

One of the things that has helped me manage my depression and anxiety the most is paying attention and living by my values. I want to live my life for FUN and JOY and not have a job that sucks the soul from my days.

I want my life to be something I love and something that honors what I need. Some of that is needing extra lounging time on bad days, some of that is needing to be able to say fuck the dishes and play with my son instead.

Last year, following my values was becoming a self published erotica writer. It was an act of self love and self care and something I haven’t regretted for 1 single day.

I’ve always had a fascination with romance and sex, especially in media (movies and books). I remember in…7th? or 8th? grade, writing a story about a girl and her boyfriend. There was lots of sex and touching. I wasn’t a good writer and I had no idea about story but I was practicing and trying new things. And then in high school, I took AP English for 2 years and loved it to my core. We got to talk about books all day long!

But while some of the things were about sex (um…Shakespeare anyone?!), none of it was romance or erotic in nature explicitly. And that was what often sang in my head. But I ignored it. I read Nabokov and did research on Oriental-ism. I wrote poems about rain and the monsters in my closet. I started (and never finished) a novel about aliens (it was kind of sci-fi fantasy blend).

I felt like I would be made fun of if I wrote what was yearning to come out most. I wanted to be published but I felt I had to do something meaningful and deep, something people could analyze and devour. From my experiences in school, writing an erotic threesome novel wasn’t something to brag about.

And yet, in 2014 I had a weird moment of clarity. I realized in so many parts of my life, I was living how I wanted. I dropped out of art school because the artist I wasn’t didn’t jive with the teachers point of view, I don’t have a 9-5 job because it’s not what I want for my life. I have plans to homeschool my son and travel across the country. But I wasn’t writing stories that I wanted to and why? Because of my high school teachers that I feared would judge (or people like them)?

BULLSHIT!

I’m an intelligent woman but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy sex or write about it. I am a strong and independent woman, but that doesn’t mean I can’t write or fantasize about bdsm.

So I said fuck this…and started writing. A story came to me and my threesome of Jake, Jamie and Brett have been with my for more than a year now. I write scenes about them in my head, things that probably won’t ever end up published, but help me find out who they are.

Along the last year, I’ve realized that yeah, I write about sex. But it’s also so much more than that. I’m indulging in a part of me that is free and open. I feel so free being able to write on this site and even on twitter as an erotic writer, saying things I wouldn’t have had the guts to say before. I have come to realize that so much more than sex, I write about relationships because I’m so damned curious about what makes people work.

I want to get into people’s heads and figure out how they react to situations, see the world from their point of view.

So I write about sex, and love and life. And it’s never work for me. I write erotica as a way to honor my values. As a way to love myself and give me what I need. I write erotica mostly, because it’s fucking fun!

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