By Kendra Holliday | June 27, 2018
Category Archives: Body Talk
|Who’s Afraid of the Big, Bad Breast?
(ok, not really big, and not really bad!)
“Boobies are not Nazis!” my daughter exclaimed, when I told her about the woman in New Jersey who crusaded for the right to sunbathe topless and lost her bid after an appeals panel ruled breasts as violating “the public’s moral sensibilities.”
If female breasts threaten society’s morals, does that mean the people they are attached to are a threat as well?
When I posted this story on facebook, a woman sadly commented: “Laws are made for the people, not by the people. This truth is an unfortunate circumstance. Because women tend to have more fat cells and the presence of mammary glands in their breasts, we cannot enjoy the same freedoms as men.”
Meanwhile, my friend posted this status on facebook the other day:
“pet peeve: when parents force their toddler daughters to wear a bikini top at the beach. It’s the last time she’s not breaking any laws. Let her be.”
One of MY big pet peeves is the fact that men are allowed to go topless in most of the United States, but women are subject to arrest.
Why is this?
A possible theory on why women aren’t allowed to go topless: because erect female nipples are a symbol of sexual arousal and readiness, which freaks men out. Even wearing no bra can be an issue.
A guy friend of mine asserts that it’s the female areola that is the problem, not the nipple itself.
By Kendra Holliday | February 11, 2018
When I was 19, I was a stripper.
My job was to get really close to men and arouse them. Their job was not to touch my breasts or genital area.
I did my job well, but they often tried sneaking a feel of the forbidden areas.
Sometimes they touched and I was badly surprised, and other times I could see them creeping toward the breasts, and I would tense up and cringe and try and deflect their fingers.
For nine months, I had hundreds of men grab my breasts and tweak/pinch my nipples without my consent.
When I finally quit there, my breasts were so traumatized that they couldn’t be touched for three years. If they were, it felt like an electrical shock.
Over time, I got a little better, but my breasts were still very sensitive and had to be handled with utmost care.
Then, when I was 27, I gave birth and breastfed for a year. I was SOO dreading breastfeeding, but was determined to do it for a year. My breasts swelled from A’s to D’s – they were swollen and engorged, with blue veins like highways.
The first six weeks were hell – it hurt so bad. My nipples were raw, red, chafed. Then I started getting used to all the latching, and tugging and pressure, but then I got a series of breast infections – mastitis, thrush, then mastitis again. Red, plugged ducts, feverish, itching, sharp, needle-like pain…
My breasts got brutalized!
By Kendra Holliday | November 22, 2017
We all get one body as the vessel that carries us through life.
We can take care of our bodies, or we can abuse our bodies.
I take care of my body by walking daily. On the days my schedule allows, I take a dawn walk, a day walk, and a dusk walk. Sometimes, I take a dark walk, which always feels risky.
I abuse my body by putting poison in it – sugar, processed food… don’t you wish we could hook ourselves up to a machine every night and remove all the bad stuff we put into our bodies that day? ha!
Our one body goes through so many phases!
This is my baby body (are the photos small for you? Click on them to enlarge)
This is my pregnant body
This is my body in 2010
This is me in 2017
I didn’t mean to take the photos for comparison, otherwise I would have used the same lighting. I just noticed the similar pose, and the striking contrast.
One of the exercises I do in my surrogate sessions is Body Show And Tell. From head to toe, we take turns giving a body tour. We talk about our hair, our freckles, scars, tattoos, what parts of our bodies we like and don’t like.
It’s odd and liberating! It’s fun taking inventory our what we have. Take a moment to be thankful for your body, and do something nice for it this week!
By Kendra Holliday | October 21, 2017
I’ve FINALLY figured out what makes female breasts/nipples so awed and feared!
You know I’ve been struggling with this Topless Inequality quandary for years – remember the Obscene Nipple Game?
A married man told me that seeing his wife’s breasts is always exciting – it never gets old. “Every time I see them, it’s like it’s the first time. It’s refreshing and invigorating.”
I notice with amusement how predictable my clients are – as soon as my bra comes off, they lean down and suck on each nipple, like an automatic, erotic handshake. They simply HAVE to touch and fondle them.
But then get this – the other day I had a date with my girlfriend, and when she took off her shirt, I was compelled to do the exact same thing! I just wanted to grab them! But I didn’t – I was a respectful lady. And that reaction is even with me having breasts myself!
Breasts are like warm, glowing light bulbs, and we are mere moths. Supposedly, moths are drawn to light because of some ancient connection to the moon, which is a feminine symbol.
Sooo here’s the deal – the reason female breasts and nipples are so awed and feared is because
THEY ARE MAGIC.
That’s it. They are a source of creation and life-giving. They symbolize Mother Earth – they are the opposite of destruction. And while most people revere and respect life force and see it as a positive thing, some people find it overwhelming and confusing, which can be scary. The more we can be in touch with our feelings, the healthier we can process the mysterious world around us.
I breastfed my daughter for a year, and am so proud how I provided her only food source for months, and how she thrived and grew – it’s so magical and empowering!
In honor of this realization, I’m hosting a Topless Tarot event later this week, for women only. We’ll sit around in my warm and cozy fairy cottage and connect and bond over candlelight, cards, gems, and runes. We’ll be surrounded by breasts and loving female energy! Our cups runneth over!
I went back into my blog archives and pulled random breast photos – I just love them so much, and am happy to have them. I’m glad to share them with you, on my own terms. Thank you for your respectful worship and appreciation!
By Kendra Holliday | September 26, 2017
We’re all inundated with spam like this:
“Want to be well hung, with a thick, muscular tool? Now you can”
“She gives me head EVERY night now that I have such a large pecker”
“The trophy can now be in your pants”
and my personal favorite:
“For anyone who has ever wished upon a star for a bigger dick, here is the answer.”
I love imagining some guy sitting there wishing on a star, but not for a pony like most people, but for the pony’s DICK.
I have to admit, I’ve only been with one micropenis in my life, and it was a shock. I think it would have gone over better had the guy said something to me ahead of time and not let me discover it on my own. Man was that awkward.
There’s a great documentary on the subject of penis size that was on BBC as part of a body image series. It’s called My Penis and Everyone Else’s.
The narrator of the film, Lawrence Barraclough, had to work hard at getting in to men’s pants and persuading them to let it all hang out. Granted some of his ideas are a little in-your-face, like when he walks around crowded streets wearing a sandwich board that proclaims loudly, “I WANT TO TALK ABOUT PENISES.”
At first Barraclough could only delve into the topic by speaking with experts and visiting sites online like measurection.com, a resource that focuses on penis insecurities. He also visits a sex toy factory that sells products such as “The Stallion Pump” and herbal enlargement pills. (Note: none of this stuff works.)
By Kendra Holliday | July 3, 2017
|The Purple Heart Medal is given to
soldiers wounded or killed.
What would a medal given to
women giving birth look like?
One time I pushed a 7 lb. baby out of my vagina.
Not only that, but I took the typical American route of childbirth and went to the hospital, got an epidural, laid on my back, had an episiotomy (a surgical incision in the perineum made to enlarge the vagina and assist childbirth), and had my baby vacuumed out of me. (One thing I didn’t experience was a C-section.) If all this sounds whack to you, I highly recommend you read Misconceptions by Naomi Wolf, and then watch The Business of Being Born and Orgasmic Birth.
Keep in mind that during my entire pregnancy, I read up on natural childbirth and walked into the hospital proudly carrying my birthing plan. But as soon as my water broke, I freaked out and cried and the birthing plan, with its birthing ball and breathing exercises, went out the window. Oh, how I wish I had a doula.
This was absolutely one of the hardest things I have done in my life. I have no idea how women do this more than once. It is one of the only times I have literally seen stars and fainted. The doctor stitched me up down there ala Frankenpussy.
After they took the urinary catheter out and my epidural wore off, I went to the bathroom. You know how you can stop and start the flow of urine? To my horror, the pee fell out of me. I had no control over it whatsoever. I wept. They gave me warm compresses to put on my traumatized pussy and told me not to have sex for six weeks.
Breastfeeding pretty much killed my sex drive, but we did have sex a month or two after I gave birth. And guess what? It hurt. The episiotomy scar was raw and intense. I kept waiting for my sex drive to return and for it to stop hurting during sex. Several times I thought I was broken forever, and that I’d never enjoy sex again like I did before. Dark times, people.
The whole point of this is to let all you new moms and dads know that there IS a light at the end of the tunnel. I’m not sure if childbirth has something to do with it or if it’s just me sexually evolving, but I’m more orgasmic and love fucking more than ever.
Just don’t get me pregnant, OK?
Women should receive an equivalent to the Purple Heart medal that is given to wounded soldiers, except it should be for celebrating creativity instead of honoring destruction.
And remember – the next time you call someone a pussy, you are saying they are tough, amazing, resilient, and STRONG.
By Kendra Holliday | June 7, 2017
I did this video announcing my new project: No Shave May!
I already have a head start with it, see? My pubes are trying to bust their way out of my lace panties!
I can’t get any of my lace panties to hold up these days. I’ve taken to hand washing and trying not to be too sexy for them.
I find the difference between guys who are into shaved heads and the guys who are into natural women fascinating. As a group, the shaved head guys came off as more entitled and disconnected, as if they owned every bald female head. Even though they claimed a woman with a shaved head was a sign of powerful confidence, they seemed to secretly get off on the humiliation factor.
The hairy armpit guys are more respectful and kind. I guess they are hippies after my own heart! These guys see hairy underarms as a badge of sensuality and supreme confidence.
I wonder how big my bush will get. I can’t remember the last time it was fully grown out. I’ll keep you posted on how my hair growth progresses!
By Kendra Holliday | June 6, 2017
I’ve been wearing a lot of sexy, slinky dresses lately sans stockings. I have to admit I felt nervous a couple times and wondered if anyone noticed my stubble. If they did, they didn’t mention it.
Here is my hairy leg, soaking in the tub:
It also feels strange saving a few steps getting ready for a date or going out. I keep thinking I need to budget an extra 15 minutes for shaving in the shower, but nope, I get to skip it! One woman commented online that shaving was “classy.” I guess that means I’m being uncouth? Oh well, I never claimed to be a lady!
SIGH. I’ll never get this hairy!
This pic was taken on a lazy Sunday morning, lounging around in bed, feeling furry and loved….
By Kendra Holliday | June 5, 2017
For about six weeks in 2012, which included the entire month of May, I did not shave anything on my body – legs, underarms, pubic area. (my recap video is here.)
This weekend, we had a shave party!
Let me show you the legs first. In this pic, I have one leg shaved – can you tell which one?
Let’s take a closer look:
I was glad to shave my calves – wearing skirts with hairy legs is fine. I loved feeling the breeze tickle the hair. But wearing pants or tights with hairy legs felt CREEPY and annoying.
Next, my crotch.
By Kendra Holliday | March 30, 2017
I’ve been flitting around so much tying men up and sticking things up their bums and torturing balls, I haven’t had a chance to write much. I miss writing! I have so much I want to share and process.
But in the meantime, I enjoyed a candlelit bath.
Water is female energy, so ritual cleansing is a great way to counter balance all the male energy I deal with.
Yin – female, water, moon, mysterious
Yang – male, fire, sun, overt
Bathing in warm water is like being back in the womb, so pure and comforting. Speaking of, have you tried FLOATing yet? Sensory deprivation chamber. Very meditative, like getting a massage without being touched. I’ve done it three times, and each experience is different. I’ve fallen asleep, had mild hallucinations, sorted thoughts, escaped from reality…
By Kendra Holliday | March 17, 2017
We all have a light side, and a dark side – sacred, and profane.
I have a couple friends who bring out my dark side, and one evening I hung out with both of them, and that made for a dark and crazy night!
Let’s call them Ziztur and Dr Doom. Ziztur took all these pics. Dr Doom brought the human skull. They both collect medical oddities and are experts in health and anatomy.
I did a play piercing session with Ziztur years ago
and wanted to try it again. I found it fascinating, and loved how the endorphin rush felt after the needles came out.
So, we arranged an elaborate play piercing party. I was expecting it to be pretty tame, so I was pretty shocked at how weird things got!
Here’s me drinking wine out of a beaker – ha, it looks like piss!
Ziztur is super creative and talented. She pierced my back, then glued feathers to the needles. I brought a bird mask, and voila – creepy bird lady!
By Kendra Holliday | January 25, 2017
This is a picture of me from the 3rd grade. Looking at it, it’s hard to believe I was molested – I mean, wouldn’t those ginormous nerd goggles be repellent enough, not to mention the shitty haircut and goofy fashion?
Then again, my opportunistic molester was pretty homely too, and wasn’t very picky. I daresay he had bad taste in children.
But this ugly child grew up to be a gorgeous goddess. Here are some steps I took in my maturity makeover:
Braces – My parents could only afford braces for one of their five kids, so they chose my sister. That means I made it to adulthood with one of my front teeth jutting out. In grade school, kids would come up to me all the time and inform me, “You have a crooked tooth.” LIKE I DIDN’T KNOW. I was self-conscious about smiling, so I scowled a lot.
Finally, when I was married and DINK (double income, no kids), I took the plunge and got Invisalign braces. I’M SO GLAD I DID IT. It was worth every penny (how many pennies are in $4000? oh never mind). Now I wear a retainer at night whenever I feel like it, which is about half the time. I’ve only broken it once. Flossing is so much easier.
Heart zapped – In 2000 I birthed my daughter vaginally – hooray! I didn’t want an epidural or a c-section, but I sure did freak out and request the epidural as soon as my labor pains kicked in for real.
My doctor took it upon herself to give me an episiotomy (a surgical cut in the muscular area between the vagina and the anus), which took a long time to heal. But further north, the pregnancy took other tolls on my body – my heart.
It had trouble keeping up with the extra blood flow and work involved with carrying another person around inside me for months, so it started to misfire. I developed SVT – Supraventricular tachycardia. My heart would sometimes race 300 beats a minute, which was inconvenient and scary. The solution was a procedure where they snake a laser up through your groin to your heart and zap the naughty part and kill it. So my heart has a scar.
The procedure cured my condition, but that zap also signaled the end of my marriage. I woke up from the procedure and everything changed in my life. My heart was fixed and broken, all at once.
By Kendra Holliday | November 3, 2016
Note: This article was originally published here.
Hey, fellas—when’s the last time you sported a boner? Have you ever noticed how annoying spontaneous erections are for teenage boys, and how annoying lack of erections are for older men?
In fact, if you look up “Reason for Erection” on the internet, besides getting some German band’s website, you’ll also find a lot of resources for unfortunate teenage boys plagued with erection problems: Erections during class. Erections at night. Erections for no reason at all. Boo-hoo, must be nice! I hope they remember that 40 years from now!
According to evolutionary psychologist Satoshi Kanazawa, the only biological function of an erection is to allow men to have intercourse with women, with the end goal of making a baby. But hey, we’re human, and sometimes men want to use their dicks recreationally. It can be extremely frustrating when the little head doesn’t play nicely with the big head. Let’s face it – dicks can be unpredictable!
As a sex surrogate, I help out men with all kinds of issues. One of the more common complaints is ED—erectile dysfunction. There are two causes for ED—physical and mental.
By Kendra Holliday | June 17, 2016
I found out about yoni eggs by happenstance at a party, when I met a vivacious woman named Dailia. A while back, Dailia had hosted an event featuring a woman from Harlem named Makeda Voletta, aka Queen Lioness. Makeda leads workshops all over the country, featuring topics such as sensual strength training and sacred yoni eggs.
Dailia was hopping around the kitchen bragging about the yoni egg she was wearing.
I looked for an amulet or something, but she laughed.
“You can’t SEE her. She’s inside me.”
OH. DUH. Yoni = female genital region – vulva, clitoris, vagina, etc.
“So what is its purpose?” I asked.
She gushed, “She helps me stay grounded, empowered, tight, toned, stimulated, CONNECTED.”
My eyes widened. I had to find out more.
Read Makeda’s Yoni Egg Basics overview.
By Kendra Holliday | June 17, 2016
I’ve had my yoni eggs for almost three years now. I’ve had them since before my hysterectomy.
I’ve futzed around with them off and on over the months, not really committing to them, just experimenting.
(Before you read any further, make sure you read my post yesterday all about yoni eggs so you know what the hell I’m talking about.)
One night, I had an intense phone conversation with my partner Matthew. Hectic life was getting in the way of our relationship and we weren’t feeling connected. The talk left me feeling agitated and upset. Exhausted, I went to sleep feeling like a smelly, wrung out dishrag.
At 3:40, I woke to great thunder and lightning. The tumultuous storm rattled the windows. I fretted and tried relaxing.
I drank a glass of wine.
I stuck my tiger’s eye yoni egg inside me – I wanted something inside. It was soo cold going in.
I frantically masturbated. When I came, I screamed. Then I cried hard, and fell back asleep. I had weird dreams, but don’t really remember them.
I woke to the alarm feeling dreary and drab, not refreshed.
My body clenched the egg tight, it didn’t want to let it go. I had to push it out, and when I did, it was really hot, and some ejaculate came with it.
More tears – this time from my pussy. More release.