During this week of Valentine’s Day, I thought it would be a good time to share some controversial thoughts about the orisha of love and sexuality, Ochún. This post contains adult themes and adult language.
I need to preface this article by reminding readers that I was born in Havana, grew up in Miami, and am an aboricha—a person with some initiations but has not made ocha–and I began in an Ochún house (I now belong to a Yemaya house). So, my understanding of Ochún begins within a specific framework of a closed religious tradition. Those can be very different from the popular ideas about Ochún found among non-initiated, eclectic Pagans.
Getting to know Ochún
I have struggled to understand, or even like, Ochún. For years, she has had a permanent space on my altar, next to Yemaya. In two readings with an oriaté (a priest with expertise in divination), she spoke, and the oriaté said that she loves me very much. I’ve never been convinced. I’ve rarely felt Ochún’s presence or noticed her influence (though I respectfully avoid wearing yellow). To connect with her more, I dedicated last May to Ochún. I poured a candle for her, and I lit it every morning and read a hymn to her. I signed up for an online course on the magic of Ochún, watched a bunch of YouTube videos, read many articles online, and picked up my dusty copy of Osun Across the Waters: A Yoruba Goddess in Africa and the Americas.
It was tough. Everything I read about Ochún, the art I explored, and the YouTube videos I watched made me dislike her more. I’m happy to blame the patriarchy for this, that Ochún has come to represent both the Madonna and the Whore, and the very worst, most stereotypical qualities of women.
The Madonna and the Whore
Ochún is the Madonna because she is often sad, suffering, and a saving force. Like the Madonna, we are saved through her selfless intercession. She intercedes to save Babalu-Aye, lure Ogun from the forest, help Chango escape Oya, and bring back the rain, and she sacrifices her beauty to reach Olodumare. It’s no wonder that she, and not Yemaya, becomes identified with Our Lady of Charity despite her appearance over rough sea waters. Well, that and the copper connection.
Ochún is the Whore for obvious reasons—the beautiful, over-sexualised object of desire, what men simultaneously want and fear. Her beauty and sexuality are her most powerful qualities, and she uses these to solve every problem and get everything she wants. The answer is always her “honey”. She’s the slut that sleeps her way to the top. She loves children as long as she can give them away. And she’s not that nice. She is a capricious, vindictive, rancourous, passive-aggressive bitch who laughs when she’s angry and secretly plots against you. She’s no ally of women, as the stories of Oya and Oba show. At the same time, Ochún is ignored, trivialised, and dismissed because of her youth, beauty, and femininity.
Goddess of love
Although Ochún is the fulfilment of love, she is also the disillusion of love because, ultimately, women are punished for their sexuality, and men want to fuck sluts, but not create a life with them. At the same time, we don’t take women seriously, and this sentiment trickles down. Ochún’s children are often said to struggle with love, never quite to find fulfilment. People struggle to reconcile beauty, vanity, and desire with generosity, love, and acceptance, which is hard on Ochún’s children, who want more than what lies skin-deep.
Aphrodite and Ochún are sometimes lumped together under the broad category of “goddesses of love”. Like Ochún, Aphrodite is often described as superficial, frivolous, petty, the blonde bimbo (a disservice to Aphrodite also). I think they are more different than alike, but I had trouble identifying the distinction for a long time. I’ve come to see Aphrodite as a goddess of love that is internal and invisibly transformative. That is, for example, love of self and sexual healing. Meanwhile, Ochún is an orisha of external and visibly transformative love.
Consider, for example, that both Aphrodite and Ochún love beautiful things, but Aphrodite is usually depicted nude, and Ochún is often dressed, at least in part, and highly accessorised. In Yorubaland, Ochún is the master plaiter, and certain clothes are associated with her. These things are important culturally and politically. Aphrodite’s healing power lies in self-care from the inside out, and Ochún’s lies in self-adornment from the outside in. It’s reconciling and integrating two halves towards wholeness.
The so-called power of sex
Here’s my dilemma. I have never been the kind of woman that Ochún represents. Putting on red lipstick and gold hoop earrings are not the things that help me feel empowered. I hate beauty standards; much of what is considered beautiful–light skin, straight hair, a long, narrow nose–are colonised. And I don’t particularly appreciate the power in women’s sexuality because it speaks to the power inequalities of our patriarchal society. Sex and beauty are not real power. They’re the survival mechanisms of second class citizens, tools that some women can wield for a time when they have no other power. It is objectifying, feeds heteronormative models, encourages gender stereotypes, and an economic model of sexuality promotes rape culture.
I love beauty, but I love it for its own sake and its creative and transformative abilities. I like it when women want to do it because it makes them feel good and not because they have been conditioned or pressured to perform femininity or because they desperately crave external validation due to having made feel lesser than—not pretty enough, not sexy enough, not young enough, not womanly enough.
I hate that society values women’s beauty above our other qualities. I hate that some women feel that beauty is their only leverage while others feel they must conceal their femininity to be taken seriously. Yet, I also understand vanity and how looking good can make you feel good. But where does Ochún fit in a feminist world of natural hair and body positivity movements? She needs to be decolonised too.
There's more to Ochún
There is more to Ochún, and she is more complex in Yorubaland. Much of this superficiality is in the Cuban tradition (and in contemporary Paganism), but even in Lukumi, she can be found as old, deaf, associated with mud instead of rivers, the buzzard instead of the peacock, and the witchcraft of powders. Ochún is also associated with wealth, divination, and destiny. Sadly, these aspects don’t get much attention and peeling back the patriarchal onion layers to understand her better is hard.
In Osun Across the Waters, one of the writers mentioned that Ochún is elemental water, and she is all freshwater, which isn’t just rivers, but also groundwater and moisture. To that, I add the obvious—lakes, ponds, and, of course, swamps, but also springs, bogs, glaciers. And when we reflect on the importance of freshwater on agriculture, for drinking, washing, transportation, food processing, medical use, recreation, and so forth, then we can begin to see that Ochún is so much more than beauty and sexuality. Ochún is a superwoman of industry and economic success in Yorubaland.
As a friend once said, “To focus only on Ochún’s sexy body is to miss out on a lot of what she has to teach us.”
I read your article… superficially I can see why you wrote the things you did, but I disagree mostly because it shows the top layer of a very complex, intertwined story of an Orisha.
Like in most cases, we tend to simplify the role or attributes of many (Chango “warrior”, Yemaya – “mother or ocean lady” ) and like the rest Ochun is very misunderstood.
As someone who is hija de las dos aguas – two waters – I have her presence in my spiritual background very much linked to Yemaya (who I crowned). And it has been difficult to understand her beautiful side without criticizing the superficiality.
If u allow me I will like to send you some readings on her which a friend ( Omo Oshun) once shared w me covering what you expressed in this article.
Much love and light
Ley – Omo Yemaya
Hi Ley. Thank you for your comment. I agree that Ochún is very complex. It would be my privilege to read those writings. You can use the contact form or email hello@cosettepaneque.com.