Tantra Throwback

Promiscuous By Nelly Furtado

I recently watched a Jubilee episode titled One Conservative vs. 20 Feminists, where Candace Owens debated 20 liberal feminists in classic Jubilee fashion, and it really had me reflecting on my own embrace of the sexual revolution and how it' s affected my life. Over the past few years, I’ve come to realize that I fall somewhere in the middle of the political spectrum — I hold many values associated with the Left, but I can also understand certain perspectives from the Right. I don’t agree with everything Candace Owens says, but I do respect that she’s clear on who she is and unapologetically stands in that truth. And from listening to her over the years with an open-mind, I whole-heartedly believe she really has people's best interest in mind, even though she may come across as just being overly conservative.

Here is the video of the whole Jubilee episode - there is a lot to unpack here, but for the sake of this specific post, I will only be discussing the first argument.

The first argument caught my attention immediately: “The Sexual Revolution has devalued women and made them infinitely less happy.”  That line echoed something I’ve wrestled with internally for over a decade. Candace’s main point was that women embraced their sexuality by “giving it away for free,” and in doing so, devalued themselves. I understand what she’s saying — but at the same time, that argument suggests a woman’s sexuality is only valuable if it’s used as leverage to secure a future with a partner. And that’s exactly what many feminists are pushing back against.

I think what Candace is really trying to get at throughout the episode is this: modern culture has encouraged women to stop seeing themselves as mothers and wives. Instead, we’ve been pushed to prioritize career success, social status, and independence above all else. And in that shift, I believe she’s pointing to a kind of devaluation — not in a shaming way, but in a spiritual one.

Over the years, I’ve reflected on this a lot. I’ve watched how modern life has made motherhood seem less “cool,” less celebrated. I’ve seen women quietly resent the sacrifices they made to raise children, especially when they compare themselves to their child-free friends who are still out partying, traveling, living it up. And yet, the truth remains: our species literally depends on us. The future depends not just on us giving birth, but on how we raise the next generation.

That’s why I believe it’s time we start truly cherishing our wombs again — not just as organs of reproduction, but as sacred centers of life, intuition, and power. To create life is not a burden — it’s a miracle. And I think reclaiming that reverence could be one of the most powerful steps forward for all of us. And yes, motherhood is not for everyone, but I think a shift back towards revering mothers and supporting them and their children is a priority that is needed if we want to create a better world for the future.

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I grew up in an era watching women empower themselves through their sexual liberation - from Madonna to Sex and the City and now to the glorification of OnlyFans. Again, I'm not here to judge anyone, this is really just social commentary on lifestyles that I have observed, participated in, and contemplated on. I was raised with Catholic values, but I also came of age during the rise of Western sexual liberation — and in true rebel fashion, I dove in hard and experienced the culture firsthand. After spending 14 consecutive years in long-term relationships, I broke away from tradition and immersed myself fully in the world of sexual freedom.

The other day in the car, “Promiscuous” by Nelly Furtado came on, and I couldn’t help but jam out. It took me right back to my early party days — I was dancing, singing, reliving that wild energy — until the lyrics suddenly hit me harder than ever. I’ve always known the song was sexually charged, but for some reason, that afternoon, it sank deeper.

Then, to really drive the point home, I heard it again yesterday while walking past the Rainforest Café in Niagara. That moment felt like a cosmic nudge — a reminder that I needed to finish writing this post.

I do believe that sexual liberation has had its benefits. As a woman who explored her sexuality freely, I’ve learned so much about myself and my body and in doing so, it gave me a confidence I never had before. It helped me connect with others in intimate, beautiful ways and gave me experiences straight out of romance movies. And I’ll be honest — I learned a few things in the bedroom that blew my mind (pun intended, lol).

But at the same time… here I am, nearing the end of my fertile years, feeling this quiet, biological ache for the children I haven’t had. I’ve poured so much of my motherly love into my cats, my niece and nephews — and while that’s been healing in many ways, it’s also made certain losses harder to bear. Losing my cats shattered me. Watching my sister’s kids grow older has reminded me, in subtle but sharp ways, that they are not mine. They carry her ways of thinking — and at times, those ways have turned on me.

It’s all fun and games when you’re young — until one day, as a woman who’s never had a child, you find yourself quietly grieving the life you may never experience. I may never get to tell the love of my life that I’m carrying our child. I may never feel what it’s like to grow life within me, give birth, and raise that child into the world.

Over the past year and a half, I’ve been processing that possibility — and to be honest, it’s been overwhelming. It’s made it hard for me to connect, to show up, to explain what I’m going through. People around me might think I’m coasting or drifting… but the truth is, I’ve been walking through a very real, very personal kind of grief. One that doesn’t always have words — but still weighs heavy on the heart.

I think this is what Candace is really pointing at. When we’re young, we think we have all the time in the world. We’re taught to chase freedom — and I don’t regret that exploration — but there comes a point when a woman has to face the possibility that the family she imagined may never come. And I think that reality deserves more space in the conversations we’re having with the younger generation. Not to scare them — but to invite them into a fuller awareness of what it means to live consciously, not just freely. Your mind might convince you that you want one thing, but let me tell you, your biology and the DNA that runs through you is stronger than your mentality. We live in a world that trains us to outhink our biology, but it's just not natural, and at some point, your hormones makes you feel it lol.

I remember my first ayahuasca ceremony. The medicine didn’t hit me as hard as other journeys I’d experienced, so I simply laid there… thinking. At the time, I had just broken off my engagement, and there was a moment during the night when I felt a deep sadness for the children we once dreamed of having — a grief for the family that would never be.

But as I laid under the darkness, I began to rationalize. I told myself that if I had chosen that family, I wouldn’t be doing the work I was doing at the time. I wouldn't be on the path I was on. And somehow, that brought me peace.

The next morning, I shared this reflection with the group — how I had mourned a potential future, but made peace with my decision. Yet even now, I wonder… was that insight truly from the medicine? Or was it my own mind offering comfort, trying to make sense of a choice I had already made?

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As I reflect on what I would want to teach younger adults about sexuality, it’s this: understand the power of your body. Know that sex can be beautiful, mind-blowing, and deeply connecting — but also recognize the responsibility that comes with that power. Your body is not just a vessel for pleasure; it’s a gateway for energy exchange, for creation, for transformation.

The sexual revolution cracked open a new era of freedom, but it also gave birth to hook-up culture. Over the years, I’ve watched sex become something so casual, so accessible, that people can literally scroll through their options and order a body like takeout when they get the urge. And in normalizing that kind of instant gratification, we’ve slowly chipped away at the value of what it means to truly be intimate.

Sex has been reduced to scratching an itch — but intimacy was never meant to be transactional. It’s meant to be transformational. And that’s what I want the next generation to remember: pleasure is sacred. And your body is holy ground.

As we celebrated Canada Day yesterday, please enjoy another throwback from fellow Canadian, Nelly Furtado!