Shamanic Spice, An Origin Story - Sexuality, Shame, Repression, Trauma, Liberation & Joy

Once upon a time there was a young boy named James. He like to dress up as a girl even though he felt fear and shame, especially when his Nan panicked that Grandad was home and he wouldn't like it! But he felt much joy wearing the pretty clothes, and the forbidden-ness gave it an exciting edge... 

He learnt that he loved to show off and dance and sing in these clothes too, and when The Spice Girls first manifested, he really, really, really wanted to perform just like them! and although when he grew up he forgot, he did! He Sang Viva Forever, a really sad song that resonated with the pain in his young heart, the song played during the part of spice world where the girls fell out, and even though he was only 9 he did it sexily,  pretending to be naked on a chair just like the spice girls, a true spice child...

Sadly for James although he had those opportunities where he was left with his sister and older friends to dress up and play, he was a self conscious child, and although he didn't know it very intuitive and empathic, aware of every weird look and the intent behind every disapproving, hurtful comment. sometimes there was just plain confusion, all he wanted to do was entertain and share his joy with the people around him, but many of the adults just didn't get it, or worse...

Ginger Spice was his favourite Spice Girl, she was the sexiest, loudest, Funniest, had the best outfits... and she left! he was so devastated... how could Ginger Spice not be part of the Spice Girls anymore? He had never known such disappointment... listening to there music, seeing them perform, watching there film... things would never be the same again... without Geri... 

This was the first of a series of major traumas in James's life in just over a year... less than 6 months later another Idol he looked up to would also let him down, his Dad. He had gotten arrested the week before for being voilent, James had seen him be voilent to things but was shocked when he had done it to another person... then when his mum didnt get him from school, and there was his favourite massive peter pan towel completely soaked in blood, he thought he must have beaten someone up again. It turned out he had actually taken an overdose, and almost been sectioned but they decided his mood was down to his off the scale undiagnosed diabetes, he had thrown up the pills when he saw a picture of James and his sister. 

James unconsciously buried part of his soul deep inside himself for safety when he was told everything that had happened, he was completely horrified, and there was a huge blow and empty feeling in his tummy, and consciously, to regain control he blamed himself for it, somehow it was his fault his dad tried to kill himself, perhaps it was his fault his dad had had to decide to live too,  it was his responsibility now too to find out how keep his dads diabetes in check so he didn't do it again, only he was too scared to say anything to his Dad, he told his mum all about it instead. Listening to Britney Spears hit me baby one more time on repeat his walkman got him through some of it, although he was scared the other boys would hear what he was listening to.  

As if all this wasn't bad enough, he was getting fat too. as much as he sucked it in there was no escaping it, he felt so uncomfortable and wanted to go on a diet like his mum was always on but the sweets and the chocolate and the feeling of being full made him feel so good, almost as good as when he used to sing a long to all the spice girls and backstreet boys songs, he was sad, and he listened to more sad songs that mirrored his sadness, how would he ever be a sexy spice girl being fat, and when no one seemed to like it anyway? 

A few months later, his girlfriend he used to sing in class with (it wasn't all doom and gloom) broke up with him just before the Valentines Disco! he felt such pain, regret, and loss, beating himself up, wishing it was different... overwhelmed he hid in the toilets making a paper clip into a metal point thinking about hurting himself with it... james never really got on with the boys at school, a year earlier he didn't really care about that, sometimes he would get really close to one and it would be wonderful, then they would just ignore him... So anyway one of the popular boys he really didn't like started banging on the door making fun of him for being in the toilet... overwhelmed... James said he was going to kill himself... well that just made it all so much worse... humiliated he had to agree to let a teacher in, one he also didn't really get along with who wasn't particularly kind about it, his mum was phoned too, but it wasn't really talked about, he just pretended to be ok... 

The boy he said it to in the toilet made fun of him about it in a lesson the following week. after that if another boy even said hello to James in the corridor he often though he was being made fun of. around this time James saw in the Sun newsapaper that loads of gay people had been killed in Soho ny an evil person that they compared to hellraiser, a nightmare film character with nails in his head...    then he started limping. In pain for 6 weeks till he could barely walk before being taken to the doctors, through his own stubborn insistence he was fine, taken into hospital that night after x rays, operated on the next day... finally recieiving the love and attention from his dad that he craved, and a promise to repaint his caravan that he had thrown paint all over, after James spilt some on the ground outside his office. 

The next year his sister had the same operation, and although James got on with it very well with little pain, his sister suffered greatly, even more so because James ring leaded the idea she was faking it all. She had to have a wheel chair, and one day James thought it was a good idea to dress up as a girl in his sisters clothes, and have his sisters friend push him around the garden in the wheel chair... he fancied the gardener, and wanted to look sexy... the wheelchair, a more bizarre element, he always had a sense of humour. He was shocked and ashamed afterwards of the feelings of what he had done... he never dressed up in front of anyone again, or sang, unless he was drunk, which he was a lot of the time from a year after that, with a drug habit too, until the age of 26 when he had enough, and went on search of his tribe, there had to be other people out there like him...

This is part of my story...in less than 2 months I joined a buddhist choir and blew people away with my powerful voice, shortly after I read about the faeries, heart circles, no talent shows, drag, how its a gift to be gay, two spirits, cross dressing shamans... a shift in me happened and a few months later I was at my first gathering, in Drag around other people in Drag! Finally. A friend I made at that gathering (my first ever gay friend apart from my ex's we used to do drugs with) was and is a performer... I thought I would never be that... I never thought I would perform in london when i found out he did, I wanted to, I wanted to go out in drag too, there was an air of tragedy around this I had become accustomed to as well. Most of my life felt like a tragedy, although I had found out it wasn't and heart circles (after a year of buddhist check in circles ) helped me begin to unravel this. other faeries pain echoed my own so much, and I heard other people speak of the pain of growing up gay in this world that I had never heard before, and spoke my own, I do not know how I made it without this for so long. I was also adjusting to being myself without the help of substances and couldn't imagine going out in drag in london sober... but at least my new friend called me after the gathering anyway (fear of rejection means I still struggle to do this even now) and we made a trip  to amy winehouse's memorial instead, (she was so tiny)  whose foundation and story partly inspired my sobriety. 

A ceremony with mother Ayahuasca meant I suddenly found the confidence to sing at the next gathering, I was given a book afterwards that fit the world ending theme of the song, amazed that if i hadn't, I wouldn't have the book... my actions impacted people positively and myself... I realised my voice was valid in other ways too... I had power.

More gatherings, more outfits, more singing, even a play... I found more and more things I felt sexy in, that showed my body off in ways I liked.. and felt good... more and more validation... I lost weight in israel sanctuary and did Madonna from the hung up video in hot pants and a leotard, unflattering on its own but with a gypsy blouse over the top like she wore I liked it  because it hid the remaining traces of my former manboobs from my fat era! I thought I had a saggy arse too... looked good from the side or in the good pair of jeans... it literally felt so uncomfortable between my legs sometimes it was all I could think about...   a lot of that was caused clenching in fear! releasing that and exercise really made a difference! and I think my bum looked pretty good in those and other hot pants I wore...  most importantly my body felt good in them, rare for me to find anything I actually really feel good in... In the past i've even created my own spanx out of tucked in vests and underwear and planned surgeries! anyway, it was clear people thought I looked good , I  know my dear lover at the time did... Maybe I could be a sexy spice girl after all?  still seemed like wanting to be sexy like a girl was wrong though, I accepted the idea I was projecting my Anima, that It was some flaw, thinking I needed to be sexy like The spice girls, Madonna, kylie... to be attractive to men... 

I've healed so much perfectionism, released so much pain and trauma, retrieved so many parts of myself I lost... my body actually looks and feels better from all of this, its never going to be perfect but no ones is. I do my best to love it now. 

The most intense dreams I have ever had seem to have been about the spice girls getting back together, I actually went to there reunion tour ten years ago, but it was before I came out and I didn't really enjoy it because i was pretending not to! I was angry with Geri too, and disappointed she didn't bring back the red hair and blonde streaks! Recently at a Gathering I had help to understand these dreams, and instead of the usual negative anima projection theory, they likened them to Faeries that had inspired me with there mischief and mayhem, and fun and joy, just like the Faeries I had found and become one of! it is amazing having friends to share with. Fate and a Scorpio moon would have me discover another fabulous leotard after another small weightloss... looking for an outfit to cook in! to make it fun instead of an exercise in martyrdom it has been... lace underwear, too small leotard wedged up my crack like a thong, a belt to hide the teeny bit of imperfect belly... heels... hair, brows, eyeliner subtle... I could tell I looked fabulous, my cheeks perfectly presented between the leotard and lace.. most importantly it felt so good... I'll never be as young and pert as I am now... 

Dancing in the kitchen, having realised I was dreaming about the spice girls because I had shunned them, my own femininity and everything they inspired me to do, and everything like them (unless in secret) for a huge part of my life, after walking in and dancing to Erotica, I put on Say you'll be there, and realised I was dressed very similarly to them in that video! I was dressed like a spice girl, possibly better, I had taken on elements of them and other inspirational pop goddesses.... 

I wore the outfit the next day to, feeling super sexy and powerful, dancing on the tables, with a deer skull on my head too... looking at the photos after, holistic spice, who had represented the fact it was a fusion of them all, became... Shamanic Spice!   

I was gutted after the gathering... all I wanted was to wear by outfit and dance in the kitchen... but I found a spice girls megamix and put the outfit on and put up a mirror and danced in front of that instead... I can end up feeling like I don't exist after a while out of Queer Space and this helps, plus it's fun, and I enjoy looking at myself and feeling sexy, I'm not ashamed anymore to admit it. Shamanic Spice has really evolved in the last two months... there have been crises of confidence after finding places for them to perform outside of gatherings...but my higher self reminded me of the looks and comments I got dressed as them before... and just being loved and accepted and encouraged whatever I wear or whatever I choose to call myself, it helps that a lot of people seem to love Shamanic Spice as much as I do.. 

 It's been all about healing the rift between that innocent young child who wanted to be a sexy performer and the adult who thought it was not only wrong to do so, but would never be talented enough, or look good enough, influenced by what is deemed good enough in a body in my culture probably, but I know my body is scarred and changed from weight gain and weight loss and doesn't fit the blueprint intended for it, I get chronic pain too, and I must love and respect it as holy anyway.

Now I know that it could be said that I was oversexulaised and negitively influenced by these women and our culture... I just dont think thats true... this has helped me unleash so much raw power and rediscover so much joy and feel good in my body regardless.. who can prove this way of sexy, revealing dressing is really only meant for women? I'm challenging the idea I have that as a 9 year old "boy" it was wrong for me to copy being sexy like a pop star... think it was innocent then and I think it is innocent now... and I think a nice ass being pleasing to the eye is a deep sacred natural pleasure, and yes I do think I have a nice ass... in the Shamanic Spice outfit anyway, Shamanic Spice is Raw, tribal, Sexy, powerful, and a bit frightening...

I think Shamanic Spice in 2018 is not that different to what Shamanic Spice might have been a few thousand years ago, or in tribes now... but also, this is me now, in modern Queer tribe, like may have never existed before, out on stage in Glastonbury, walking the streets of london with Dear, Queer friends also dressed up, dancing on the dance floor of transister in a Diamante encrusted Shamanic Jock Strap, dedicating it to the queer ancestors, calling upon them for strength, amazed I made it there dressed like I was, without killing myself years before, grateful I never did, dedicating it to the ones who didn't make it, feeling shame for a while sharing about suicide, Performing on a Stage in London like I never thought I would, on the 20th Anniversary of Geri Halliwell leaving the Spice girls, recognising it as a valid collective trauma,  for other children too,  my unique way of dealing with Shame, Trauma, Sexuality, Repression... Finding Liberation, experiencing a fuck load of vulnerability, the sacredness of all things... and... Joy