Re-assessing sensuality - My experience
- nanahasiaaasankoma
- Oct 2
- 2 min read
Most definitions of sensuality consist of sexuality. Unfortunately, to be sensual has been reduced to sexual pursuits (at least through formal definitions). This is not to say there is no relationship between sexuality and sensuality. However, these definitions can influence our understanding and experience of what is and isn’t sensual. Our personal experiences can be side-lined and the emphasis on sexuality can easily make way for patriarchal understandings to dominate.
As a woman of African descent and a woman of faith I have grappled with what sensuality means to me. I am not oblivious to the over-sexualisation of black women nor the immense pressure on women to not be ‘too much’. Too expressive, too in touch with our desires, or too powerful (especially so we don’t scare men away).
Detangling the various toxic ideologies, I was fed about sensuality has been a deeply spiritual experience. It has not just been an endeavour of the mind, but that of the soul, and body. I was once very uncomfortable in my body and how I expressed myself. As a neurodivergent, years of projections made me feel there was something wrong with my very being.
Years later, I learned that people were uncomfortable with themselves and their limited ways of being, so they projected onto me. I’ve always had the natural ability to cause affect within people. Many people did not know how to deal with the complex emotions they experienced by being in my proximity, so they projected their inadequacies onto me.
The journey to reclaiming my sensuality has not only consisted of becoming grounded and rooted in my body and ridding myself of other’s narratives of myself. But it’s been a deep journey of reclaiming my soul and power by allowing my wants and desires to surface without the opinion of others.
For me, sensuality is about allowing myself to enjoy being me. Enjoying how I feel in a dress, the scents of my favourite oils, allowing myself to laugh deeply without caring about how I look or sound. It’s about feeling free and safe enough to dance in any way I want, to speak about the sacred and the profane with deep passion and reverence. To go from having a highly sophisticated conversation on politics to being in communion with the Most High and my ancestors in ways I cannot entirely explain. For me, it is to be fully embedded in my human experience.




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