18/05/2025
Ge***al ‘Meet and Greet’
A Reflection on Touch, Spirit, and Truth
They said if anyone ever touched me there, I’d lose my worth.
They said my body was a temple but not mine.
It belonged to God, to culture, to shame.
So I grew up believing desire was a sin.
That curiosity was rebellion. That intimacy outside the stamp of marriage was filth.
But no one told me this:
No one told me that the body could ache with longing not rooted in lust, but in a deep human need to feel seen.
No one told me that touch could either heal or break, depending on the spirit behind it.
And no one prepared me for how s*x, in the absence of dignity, can leave you feeling hollow like your soul walked out while your body stayed behind.
Yes, s*x without honour can feel dirty.
Not because your body is dirty.
But because being entered physically or emotionally without reverence feels like betrayal.
When someone touches you without truth, or you give yourself without clarity, it doesn’t just scratch the surface. It disturbs your centre.
It leaves a residue not of sin, but of soul-fragmentation.
Because s*x, when wielded without care, can confuse the body into believing it is being loved… while the soul knows it is being used.
But the church, the mosque, society — they taught us to fear the act, not the intention.
They made it about pe*******on, not presence.
About purity, not partnership.
About rules, not relationship.
They told us God is angry about s*x.
But here’s what I’ve learned:
Not every “genital meet and greet” is sacred.
But not every one is sinful either.
If your body meets another with consent,
With truth,
With mutual dignity,
And the knowing that this moment does not define your value or break your essence —
Then maybe that’s not a sin.
Maybe it’s just human.
Because sin isn’t in the skin.
It’s in the deception.
The manipulation.
The emptiness we pretend not to feel.
This isn’t a call to immorality.
It’s a call to awakening, to honouring your essence by indulging your body only in what dignifies it.
By treating s*x as more than pleasure or proof, but as a sacred exchange that demands presence, honesty, and care.
Let’s stop asking, “Did you touch?”
Let’s start asking, “Did you honour?”
Did you leave each other whole or haunted?
Because God is not afraid of s*x.
We are.
And it’s time we told the truth about that.
