“As a heterosexual female, at first I felt uncomfortable when overcome with lustful thoughts for women. Now I use them as a tool for masculine character development.”

Playing with my imagination is an exercise in the creative, a foundation from which I unite pen and paper in holy matrimony in an attempt to understand the relationship between my inner and outer-self. The former is a wild and philosophical spirit, a high-wire walker on a rope tensioned between the known and the unknown over a five hundred metre void into nothingness. The latter is a professional educator, bound at the wrists with data and metrics, gagged into submission by poor academic management, my outer-shell like that of a mannequin whose skin has flaked off in large chunks in protest at the absurdity of it all.
In reality my life seems very black and white, and for the most part it is. But every now and then from seemingly nowhere I am consumed by a sexual urge that wreaks havoc with my imagination, sending the tight-rope into oscillatory mayhem whilst reducing academia to a mass of pinhead observers on the ground below, my confusion being when will it end and what will happen between now and then?

The last time this urge for intimacy and passion with women consumed me (I am a happily married heterosexual), I channelled it into writing, the outcome being Enter The Mistress, a book of fictional short stories exploring women’s sensual desires. On harnessing my feelings in this way, I assumed I had sufficiently tamed the lion, the crack of my psychological whip being enough to assure me position of ringmaster. But this is not so, because just a few weeks ago the challenge to my controlled sanity came again in the form of a brief meeting with a forty-something friend-of-a-friend, her slim body and pert breasts perfectly offset by a floral Laura-Ashley style dress, the sun on her cheeks highlighting their contours, her lips full and ready for kissing. Several times whilst in conversation with her I attempted to shake these thoughts away but couldn’t, my eyes being drawn to several things like the way her hair fell across her forehead in a natural-but-manicured sort of way and her big brown doe eyes full of innocent mischief. I pictured her walking in a woodland, a basket of flowers in her hand, a smile of contentment across her face, her summer dress perfect on every curve and revealing succulent flesh where it mattered the most. And there I was lingering behind a tree, looking for the opportune moment to taste the scent of her limbs.

This is how the urge for sensual encounters with women overcomes me, as if I am harbouring a masculine presence inside who longs to devour the beauty of the female, my place within it being as the observer, a bystander unsure of what may be if I lose all control.

Jung describes this unconscious masculine side of woman as the animus, it making up the totality of psychological qualities possessed by her and it being one of the sources of creative ability. He believes the animus to be a primary archetype of the unconscious mind, a hidden force which is transformed when it enters consciousness and is given particular expression by individuals and cultures. The animus weaves its way into stories, art, myths, religion, or dreams, the abstract being a place where it can comfortably show the wholeness of itself, just as it did in my book.

I find some consolation in Jung’s theory, because it confirms that this urge within me is a natural primal force, one which is universal and manifests itself in others too depending on their individual personality and life events. It also reminds me that there really is no shame to be felt by any woman in allowing her animus to run rampant through her veins as and when it so desires because it lives and breathes in her psyche, it being a set of unconscious masculine attributes and potentials requiring expression. Characteristics such as assertiveness, dominance, independence – aspects of the personality that have a tendency to be suppressed in favour of more typical female characteristics – these can be mentally developed by embracing the multitude of scenarios the animus presents, ones that can be explored at will when it surfaces and also afterwards when it has retreated. The key however in collaborating with the animus is in understanding the boundaries between the mental and physical, and this is achieved by recognising the moment when the animus manifests and then exercising the ability to discern its wild imaginings from reality. Befriend it, have fun with it, direct it, because the animus is a psychological asset that, when correctly handled, can bring many benefits to its female owner.