What Sacred Slut Means to Me

I’ve been called a slut for most of my life.

Sometimes it was meant as a compliment. Sometimes it was an accusation. Often, it was just a projection. But eventually, I stopped trying to dodge the word. I turned toward it. I studied it. I wore it. I made it mine.

And then I gave it a surname.

Sacred.

To me, a sacred slut is someone who honors erotic energy as life force. Someone who treats desire not as shameful, but as beautiful, powerful, and worthy of care.

Not a caricature. Not a performance. Not a fantasy manufactured for someone else's pleasure.

But a human being who meets sex with honesty, skill, and presence. Someone who understands that pleasure is part of health. That bodies are not dirty. That longing is not sin. That connection can be holy, even if it is brief.

For some people, the word slut will never feel safe. I understand that. It has been used to wound. To humiliate. To control. You do not have to reclaim what hurts you. You do not have to wear any word that makes your body contract. But for me, and for many others, sacred slut is a key. A permission slip. A spell of remembrance.

Because here's what people get wrong about sluts.

They think we’re reckless. Disrespectful. Desperate for attention. But real sacred slut energy is the opposite of careless. It is full of care. For self. For others. For the truth that sex is never just sex. It is always a conversation. Sometimes even a prayer.

Let me tell you what sacred sluttiness has looked like in my life.

It looked like being nineteen and standing naked in front of a mirror, touching my own breast with reverence, not shame.
It looked like holding a lover’s face in my hands and saying, “You are safe with me.”
It looked like stopping mid-scene to ask, “Do you need water, or do you need a pause?”
It looked like years of sex work where my attention was the most healing thing I offered.
It looked like saying no without apology. And saying yes with my whole body.
It looked like crying during orgasm and being met with love.
It looked like making room for all of it — arousal, fear, curiosity, surrender.

Sacred slut does not mean wild orgies and glitter threesomes, unless that’s your truth. It can also mean quiet solo pleasure. Or an honest conversation with your partner after years of silence. It can mean unlearning shame. Reclaiming your voice. Touching yourself like someone you love.

And most of all, it means this.

You get to be erotic and wise. Sensual and sovereign. Hungry and whole.

We were taught to split the sacred from the sexual. But they were never meant to be separate.

The sacred slut remembers that.

She trusts her body. She speaks her desires. She honors the no as much as the yes. She holds power and tenderness together. She knows how to touch and be touched. She knows how to be a mirror. Not for fantasy. For truth.

So if someone has ever called you a slut with disgust in their voice, let me offer you this instead.

You are sacred.
Your body is not a problem.
Your desire is not a flaw.
Your longing is not shameful.
You are allowed to want.
You are allowed to feel.
You are allowed to name what you need.
You are allowed to change your mind.
You are allowed to begin again.

And you are allowed, if you choose, to be a sacred slut.

Not for anyone else.
For yourself.
For your body.
For your life.

With love,
Nina