Truth Be Told: Interview With Dalychia & Rafaella, Founders of Afrosexology

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The mission of Afrosexology is to explore and reclaim black sexuality. How do you feel that black sexuality is still being dehumanized today?

Dalychia: I don’t know if it’s changed much. Saying that we’re hyper sexual or asexual is still a common thread. Mass media doesn’t often portray us as complex characters. We’re either sexual or smart, never both. Black women are only fully visible in the spaces we create to uplift and portray ourselves positively.

Rafaella: It all goes hand in hand with how black people are viewed in general. I think the whole goal was and is to dehumanize us. So, from the very beginning we’re portrayed as anything to make sure others don’t connect with us. When someone wants to abuse our bodies whether it be within our own community or outside, it’s seen as ok because they think, “that’s all that you’re for.”

What was your journey into Sexual Health and what/who were your influences?

Dalychia: My journey began from a place of violence and shame. I’m from a pretty conservative, religious West African family. There was no conversation around my body, relationships or anything in between. I went through puberty, crushes, relationships and break ups without someone talking to me about sex. In church, we would get lessons on abstinence and the horror stories of those who didn’t wait. There was either miscommunication or a lack of information in general. I embraced curiosity at a young age so I didn’t understand why every other subject was fine to dive into, while that was off limits. Delving into the subject on my own led me to this career path. I did a lot of work around human trafficking and sexual assault. I got to a place where I wanted more than seeing us in constant pain. Then I found Audre Lorde, my foremother and a woman I adore so much. Among her, Toni Morrison, Alice Walker, Sapphire and more who unapologetically wrote about black sexuality and liberation. That inspired my work in sexual joy for black people. I believe that we deserve more than being in pain. We deserve to have all the orgasms we want, healthy relationships, to be in love with ourselves and with other people. Most statistics on our community are only focused on STI’s, unplanned pregnancies and assault. Instead of focusing only on pain, I’d rather give people information on their bodies and relationships. Understanding how to communicate, so that we can have agency over our own bodies and lives.

Rafaella: I wouldn’t say I necessarily had a journey into sexual health. My journey comes from a place of healing. It started in high school and went into college where sexual awareness was more in the forefront. I attended A&T State University. How sex negatively affects everyone’s lives was plastered everywhere. Statistics of STI’s within the student body made me more aware of my daily interactions. There are a lot of people who are having sex. Is it good sex? Probably not. Sexuality needs to be understood more on an intellectual level because it is killing people. Gaining control of your sexual wellness and pleasure will transcend into how you protect yourself. It will allow you to set standards on how other people treat you. Unless you’re in the unfortunate situation of being stuck in a toxic environment/relationship. I wanted the conversations surrounding sex to be positive and about more than STI’s and unwanted pregnancies.

In Zora Neale Hurston’s, Their Eyes Were Watching God Nanny Crawford says to Janie, “the nigger woman is the mule of the world”. Her grandmother, coming from a past of trauma and abuse tried to lead Janie into Black womanhood the best way she knew how. How did those closest to you lead you into Black womanhood, that only caused/repeated the cycle of abuse?

Dalychia: For me, being a West African in America people have this idea that Africans are savages. My mother grew up believing that “whiteness” was better. Growing up, it was constantly put into her that African and Black women were animalistic, ugly and uncivilized. While White women were beautiful, classy and pure. Growing up, she would distance me as much as possible from my West African culture. She tried to keep my body, mannerisms, poise and attitude very small and defined. All so I could fit into this box of white femininity that I ultimately couldn’t. I felt like I was shrinking. I had to pull back from myself in so many ways. Except for sex. I wanted to have sex. But I was taught to wait until my partner initiated, then I had to play hard to get. I was taught to act as this dainty white woman. I’m just now getting to a space where I know I deserve to take up space, to be seen, to be here, to be heard. I can take initiative and ask for pleasure in a relationship. My mother had all the best intentions, and she did all she could with what she was given. Older women used to tell me, “All men cheat, so choose the guy who doesn’t cheat in your face.” My grandmother, mother aunts and all the women close to me were cheated on. Things they had experienced and the ways they had to live, they’d pass on because that’s all they knew.

Rafaella: That’s a good question. To protect me, those closest to me felt that simply not acknowledging it would mean it didn’t exist. Once I experienced sexual violence, I felt alone. The rules that incited my pain further were, “a child knows their place” and “only speak when spoken to.” I had all these questions and the only people I could turn to were my peers. Which in turn would only worsen the situation because they were either going through the same thing, and most lacked the proper education to help. As descendants of slaves we’re taught not to bring attention to ourselves. In doing so, the silence that may at one time have been necessary is killing us now.

The field of Sexual Health isn’t one where non-white faces are prevalent. How is it as Black women breaking into such a non-diversified/segregated field.

Dalychia: I am always surprised by the amount of non-people of color who follow us on Instagram, and ask to attend our workshops. By creating something rooted in our narrative, we’ve made room for others to be a part of it. I don’t feel accepted into those predominantly white spaces. Though I am aware that I’m allowed to maneuver within them. Just as every other institution, we as black people create our own things, and they always want it. So, I’m not concerned about them. I know that we are bringing more representation and people are realizing that. People are wanting to feel more inclusive. Personally, it isn’t my job to educate non-black people on black issues. Yes, the field is extremely white, but people like Amber Rose are putting black women at the front of the conversation in non-traditional ways.

Rafaella: The perception is that there aren’t a lot of black women in the field of sexuality/sexual health. The reality is that there are hella black women doing this work. Because of the way they practice, they aren’t receiving as much recognition. Reasons include that they aren’t academic, certified sexuality educators, they don’t have PhD’s etc. They may be sex workers, dancers, surrogates or doing small community based work in their local neighborhood. For the field of sexual education, those people aren’t sought out. They often ask for people of color, but they’re not inclusive of those without degrees and certifications.

Your Website and Social Media Accounts unapologetically advocate for black women’s sexual health and pleasure. What kind of work goes into creating such an unapologetic space for black female sexuality?

Dalychia: When I think about our work, I think of liberation. Sexual liberation is a journey I’m still on and I wanted a community to join me. We’re creating work for our younger selves. I’m constantly thinking of the 14-yr. old me when working with youth. We’ve done workshops for black men so they can talk about their experiences. Though they vary from our own expriences, we understand that they also need sexual liberation. How we perceive information, our appreciation for art, culture, music and our own unique experiences all goes into that effort. We want to make sure we’re creating something for the twenty-year-old black girl.

Rafaella: I cosign that. It’s important to be realistic and forgiving of ourselves. When you have a certain level of education, people want to put a certain expert level on you. Sometimes it can be hard, if you don’t know something, if something isn’t going perfect in your life. Working in mental health can cause you to think you must have perfect social skills, and that every relationship, including the one with yourself, is healthy. Though we have an open knowledge that we’re willing to share, we also look forward to different inputs. We recognize that we don’t know everything. So, we often take a step back to look at ourselves and our surroundings to recognize that.

What is your advice to women of color who are coming into their sexuality?

Dalychia: Spend time getting to know yourself. Romance yourself, fuck yourself, love yourself, spend time with you. Try different things you hadn’t before. Turn the lights on or off. Light candles. Play music, listen to different sounds. Try different taste of food, wine, weed etc. Figure out what you need. Find out whether you like it fast or slow. Masturbate, PLEASE MASTURBATE. Get sex toys. Touch yourself if you don’t like sex toys, or do both at the same time. Focusing on yourself is my number one suggestion. My second is to focus on other things in your life that you enjoy. For example, if reading brings you joy and pleasure then do that. How much pleasure are you having daily, and get used to knowing that you deserve pleasure. Understanding that you deserve love.

Rafaella: Dalychia stole mine. Use a mirror. Look at and explore yourself. A lot of people don’t even know how their private parts look. They’ve never seen their vulva. Examine what you do and don’t like about your entire body. Incorporating some “mirror magic” into your sexual and self-love journey. Seeing how that can develop you as a sexual being.

#sex #sexuality #blackwomen #masturbation