Owning Our Power: How Women Embracing Their Sexuality & Autonomy Still Frighten the World

It's been four long years since I made this site and I laugh now that I really thought I would start and keep up with blogging while completing my PhD...man, did I underestimate the PhD journey and the systems I was going to be navigating. I am still very much navigating, but the end is FINALLY in sight with a hopeful May graduation on the horizon! I’ll talk more about my journey and next steps in future blogs, but for now, I’m crawling out of the shadows, equal parts hopeful and crippled by election anxiety, to discuss women + liberation.

Anyone else experiencing election anxiety?

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• 0%Yes (anxiety is an understatement, where are we moving to?)
• 0%No (can't be bothered, marked safe from madness, etc.)

Let’s talk about it: society's love-hate relationship with women and our sexuality and freedoms. On one hand, the media and pop culture spend endless hours scrutinizing women’s bodies and behaviors. On the other, when these same women reclaim their sexuality, there’s a moral panic—and a desperate desire to tear them down. The pattern is as old as time, though these days it’s less about burning women at the stake and more about doing it via Twitter threads, podcast think tanks, and tabloid headlines. Whether it's the venomous attacks on Kamala Harris for daring to breathe and thrive in male-dominated spaces or the ever-present curiosity about Simone Biles', Beyoncé's or Meg the Stallion's (to name a few), every move, we are reminded that a woman’s power and agency is still something society can’t quite handle.

Take a quick scroll through recent history. Remember Britney Spears? America wanted to keep her in a cutesy bubblegum box forever, but as she started embracing her own image—showing her sensuality on her terms—suddenly she was “out of control,” “unhinged,” a “bad role model.” And yet, long before she could even buy herself a beer, the world hyper-sexualized her. We watched a teenager sing “Hit Me Baby One More Time” in a schoolgirl outfit, created a frenzy over her body, her dating life, and her every move. But the minute she grew into her womanhood, the narrative flipped, and she was blamed for “corrupting the youth” and exploited and controlled under the guise of a conservatorship. If you have not yet watched the Framing Britney Spears documentary, what are you waiting for?

Whitney Houston? They labeled her “America’s Sweetheart” in the beginning—until she didn't fit into that squeaky-clean mold. The world praised her voice and poise but turned on her as soon as she claimed her own space, flaws and all. The “fallen star” narrative followed, painting her as another woman who had strayed from the role society laid out for her. Not the fact that her industry wrung her dry, that some of those closest to her exploited her talents and huge heart, or that we demanded too much of her to begin with.

Beyoncé? Oh, she’s had her fair share of it, too. She’s criticized for her confidence, her curves, her art, and her feminism. The same world that loves to see her perform loves to speculate and judge when she shows up as the woman she chooses to be. Black women, especially, are given this impossible script: embody strength, but don’t show too much power; be confident, but don’t let that confidence translate into unapologetic sexuality. Society wants a slice of our fire but can’t bear the heat for even a moment.

And Meg Thee Stallion? She says it best in her song appropriately titled Anxiety: “saying I’m a hoe ‘cause I’m in love with my body.” With one line, she summed up what millions of women have been feeling for years. The double standards are dizzying: when a woman like Meg takes pride in her body, embraces it without shame, suddenly she’s “too much.” But society has never blinked an eye at celebrating women’s bodies when it's for their consumption, their profit. Let’s be honest: this hypocrisy starts young, as girls are adultified and sexualized from the time they’re in elementary school. There’s no age limit on who becomes the target of these projections. Black girls, in particular, face this double-edged sword—they’re adultified and deemed “too grown” from the jump. This isn’t just harmless gossip; it’s a poison that permeates every sector, shaping how Black girls and women are treated in the justice system, in healthcare, and beyond.

At the core, these stories share one unsettling theme: the world is fine with seeing women sexualized, as long as they’re not the ones in control. And if they’re Black women, like Kamala Harris, the scrutiny takes on a sharper edge. Remember those headlines about her “sleeping her way to the top”? The mere suggestion that a woman—especially a Black woman—could ascend to power based on her intelligence, her capability, her grind… that’s somehow not believable. We love to take accomplished women and dismiss their hard work as manipulation or seduction. And make no mistake, this isn’t some benign oversight. This kind of rhetoric actively fuels patriarchy. It distracts from the real issue: the persistence of systemic inequality.

The witch trial mentality hasn’t gone away. It’s just rebranded itself. Now, instead of calling women witches, society labels them “unstable,” “too emotional,” “difficult”, or "single cat ladies" (as seen in recent months). When they refuse to conform, they’re “attention-seeking.” This policing of women’s behavior feeds an anti-woman narrative that transcends gossip columns and seeps into policies, workplaces, and even the ballot box. And all of it conveniently serves the status quo. When women are busy defending themselves from personal attacks, we have less time and energy to push back on the very systems that keep the patriarchy alive and well.

Intersectionality matters here, too. Black feminist thought illuminates how these narratives are even harsher and more complex for women of color. The hyper-sexualization of Black women is deeply embedded in history, and it’s weaponized to this day. Black women are painted with this myth of being “hypersexual” or “promiscuous”—a stereotype that not only dehumanizes but limits the scope of our accomplishments and contributions. Kamala Harris isn’t just a competent politician; she’s a living symbol of what it means to climb despite a rigged game. And the more public attacks she withstands, the more we see this dynamic in action: a woman of color having to prove herself again and again, never allowed to be fully human without critique.

It’s high time for society to reconcile with its own contradictions. Why is it that men’s struggles add layers to their stories? They make them “gritty,” “real,” “authentic.” They can emerge from scandals as “wiser” and “more mature.” But for women, those same struggles are stains, chapters that threaten to end their careers. We’re watching it play out now, as election season continues to heat up, and women in public life are once again scrutinized for everything—their relationships, their bodies, their past choices. It’s no wonder some young girls grow up feeling torn between ambition and authenticity, because as long as these double standards persist, the climb will be steeper for them.

As election season barrels down on us, remember what’s at stake. When we go to the polls (if we haven't already), let’s cast votes for the women of today and tomorrow—who deserve lives filled with purpose and possibility, not defined by a world that fears our power. Vote for life in every sense, not just callous birth by any means necessary. Vote for justice, not punitive harm fueled by sexism and racism. Vote for a future filled with light and hope for women—not one modeled on the Handmaid’s Tale dystopia. Let’s build a world where women can dream of families without fearing we’ll be stifled by policies that are stranger than fiction, a world where our bodies are ours to own, not anyone else’s to police.

We need to rewrite the narrative and let women own our stories, struggles, and sexuality without judgment. Let us hold our heads high without fear of the ever-watchful moral (but amoral) police. Women don’t need permission to be powerful, complex, sensual beings. We’ve always been this way, despite history’s best efforts to tame us. It’s time to celebrate that fire, not douse it. It’s time for the world to sit back and let women own every facet of our power, unapologetically. Because make no mistake: whether we’re burning on a stake or blazing a trail, we’re not going anywhere!