Why I Love my Cunt
Before starting this whole Cuntlove journey, I decided that the key to solving all my problems was to love myself. It may have started as a desperate attempt to hold on to something worth living for, but somewhere along the lines of repeating the self directed mantra: love, love, love, I figured something out.
Cuntlove, means many things to me. Obviously, it simply is a love of my cunt, but it’s also a love of all cunts, and beyond that it’s a love of women, and of everything that comes forth from life. The core of my being is located between my legs, in a very physical sense, but it’s also an abstract idea. It’s an idea that grounds me to the world and connects me to universal ideas of love, truth, freedom and beauty.
You might think that self-esteem comes from looking at yourself in the mirror and seeing something that you can appreciate, and yes there is value in being able to look at yourself and love everything you see, but it’s not about your physical appearance, at least not entirely, it has to come from somewhere else, and you might locate that kind of feeling in the region of your heart, but your heart is something that can be pulled out of your chest much too easily.
My cunt on the other hand is strongly in place and from it emanates an equal exchange. It gives and it takes in equal measure, and it always seems to know the perfect balance of each. It’s alive in a way that no other body part can be. It’s its own self-contained micro-universe. I don’t love it because it needs me, I love it because it feeds me. My cunt supports me, it is the center of my being.
I don’t pet it or hold it in the palm of my hand to make it feel good, but because it makes me feel good. I don’t send it love in a desperate attempt to make myself believe it’s true, but because my cunt loves me. It is the Muladhara Chakra: the first, the beginning. It is the root!