Why do I enjoy embracing my sexuality?

For a long time, showing my body and feeling observed were things that made me feel insecure. Over the years, my relationship with my body, desire, and my own sensuality has changed a lot.

Today, I can say it without overthinking it: I like sexualizing myself.

I like feeling sensual. I like playing with my image, being provocative, being attractive, and feeling desired. Sometimes I enjoy being explicit, while other times I find suggestion far more erotic. Sometimes I feel like showing my body, and sometimes I don't.

And perhaps that last part is the most important of all: I am the one who chooses.

Choosing to sexualize myself does not mean that I am sexually available to everyone. Nor does showing my body mean that my boundaries disappear or that someone else gets to decide what they can do with me.

My sensuality does not replace my consent.

I can post a nude photograph and still say no. I can dress provocatively and still say no. I can enjoy feeling desired and still decide who is allowed to come closer to me and how far.

I don't see any contradiction in that.

There is also something much simpler behind all of this: I like my body.

It hasn't always been that way. Like many people, I've had insecurities and gone through different stages in my relationship with it. That's why being able to look at myself now and enjoy what I see has a special meaning for me.

Photographing myself, dressing in a certain way, or even getting naked can all be ways of exploring that relationship.

But I don't need to feel sensual all the time.

That's something I've come to understand better over time.

There are days when I love putting on lingerie and heels and deliberately playing with desire. And there are other days when all I want is to walk around a city for hours, discover a restaurant, watch a film, spend time in nature, or simply sit somewhere and enjoy a coffee.

All of those women are me.

For a while, perhaps I thought my sensuality was some kind of essence. Today, I see it differently: it is one of my languages.

One that I enjoy immensely, but not the only one.

I Like Inspiring Desire.

And I don't want to pretend otherwise just to seem more acceptable.

I like being desired.

I like noticing a gaze that lingers for a second longer than usual. I like knowing that a photograph has stirred something in someone. I enjoy playing with imagination, with what I reveal and what I choose to leave unseen.

There is power in feeling desired when you are the one deciding how you want to participate in that game.

But to me, there is an enormous difference between being an object of desire and losing my position as the subject of my own life.

I want to be looked at without ceasing to be the one who looks.

I want to inspire desire without becoming exclusively what somebody else desires me to be.

Because behind a sensual photograph, I am still there, with my tastes, my contradictions, my boundaries, my curiosities, and everything else that cannot be seen in an image.

Is Sexualizing Yourself Empowering?

Not necessarily.

I think we have spent a long time trying to decide what should feel empowering for every woman, when the answer is probably far more individual.

For one woman, showing her body may feel liberating. For another, liberation may come from choosing not to show it.

I don't think either decision is inherently more valuable than the other.

For me, freedom lies precisely there: in being able to decide how I want to relate to my body and my sexuality without needing that decision to be right for everyone else.

I have chosen to explore part of myself through eroticism, naturism, photography, and also through my profession.

And I enjoy it.

But none of those things can fully explain who I am.

I Am More Than an Image

Perhaps this is what I would add today to everything I have previously written about my sexuality.

Over the years, I have shown a lot of my body. It is an undeniable part of Giovanna Moon, and I have no intention of hiding it.

But the more I get to know myself, the less I feel the need to define myself through a single facet.

I can enjoy a beautiful nude and be moved by a landscape.

I can talk about sex and then spend hours talking about a film.

I can enjoy an incredible dinner, travel, dance, lose myself walking through Madrid, become fascinated by something I've just discovered, or simply have a completely ordinary day.

And none of that makes my sensuality any less authentic.

Quite the opposite.

It puts it where it belongs: as one part of me, chosen and enjoyed, within a person who is so much more.

So yes.

I like sexualizing myself.

I like being provocative. I like feeling desired. I like playing with my body and with the way other people look at me.

But I also like being able to stop doing it whenever I choose.

Because perhaps what I truly enjoy isn't simply sexualizing myself.

It's having the freedom to choose how I want to be seen.