“Do you like touching me on my abdomen where my uterus is?” I asked my spouse.
“Yes,” he said.
We were in bed, and I was lying on my back. My spouse was kneeling by me, naked, touching my bare abdomen in a circle.
“Does it make you think about fucking me, and your dick sliding into me, trying to reach my uterus?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“I want to slide my dick into you and cum in your uterus,” my spouse said.
“Yeah, that’s not how it works. But I hear what you’re saying. You can imagine that. You can imagine anything you want!” I said.
I imagined my uterus, wet and pink inside me. Then I imagined it in another way, which is dark night of space dotted with stars and planets.
“You know, I think of my uterus as an actual organ, probably full of fibroids and a total mess. But you’re never going to believe this. Get ready for some hippie stuff,” I said.
He looked at me, ready.
“Ok, here it is–I also think of my uterus as filled with universe, with stars and planets in there. Isn’t that weird?” I asked.
My spouse seemed to take this in very calmly. Of course, he’s used to me saying hippie shit on the daily.
“I’ve been imagining my uterus filled with universe for a looooooong time,” I said. “It’s the words–the words are so similar.” Uterus–universe.
I felt a little embarrassed. But actually, I’ve been imagining this so long, the idea is part of me.
And it’s more than the words. I love my uterus as a place of power, vibrating with shakti energy–a source of primordial good, star style. Yes, that’s the difference between me and many trans friends. I’m fortunate to have these body parts and enjoy them. I respect people who need to jettison or change their parts, as I love my parts.
Never will I carry a baby or otherwise need this uterus in a practical way. But it’s kind of like the one wisdom tooth I had that was growing in properly. The oral surgeon wanted to pull it, but I was not convinced.
Where do you speak from? Literally I speak from my lungs, throat, mouth. But what if I spoke from the heart, or from my back? What if I spoke from my legs or my breasts?
I think of where I sing from too. What if I spoke from my uterus, or sang from my uterus? What would these parts of me say, if they could talk? Maybe my uterus needs to tell me something, or tell the world something.
I consider their moods. What strengths and vulnerabilities would I learn about, if I gave voice to different parts of me? Next time I try to sleep, I could ask different organs if they want to tell me anything.
I like to fall asleep with one hand on my abdomen. I’ve thought about it as touching my dantian, an important energy center. My uterus is there–my bladder is there. I want those places to be ok. I’m blessing them and trying to help them feel safe so all of me can feel safe.