Meet Mz. JewCee | Erotic Advisor/Sexuality Coach

We had the good fortune of connecting with Mz. JewCee and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Mz., where are your from? We’d love to hear about how your background has played a role in who you are today?
I’m from Cleveland, OH! Growing up I can honestly say that I did not think about living anywhere else. However, it was not in the cards for me to stay in my hometown for long…

At sixteen years old my mother and I came home to find my father unresponsive on the living room floor. The scream that came from my mother’s lips has always haunted me. It was the sound of heartache, dread, sadness, fear, and so much more – something I had never heard before and now know oh too well when I attend family and friends homegoing. After hearing my mother call for help I went straight to the phone and called for a rescue squad. Instinctively I knew it was bad. I heard our neighbor come in the house and then I heard him break down in tears. …I was still on the phone. I heard his yells of agony, his mumbles of disbelief. I finally got off the phone and went into the living room. No one was there…they were all outside on the porch in inconsolable pain. I was left alone with my daddy.

I remember being numb as I saw my dad lying on the floor. To this day it is still a haze. I remember taking a seat on the floor next to him – he was in his favorite position lying on the floor in front of the fan. I put my hand on his shoulder and kept shaking him, trying to get him to wake up. It was gentle at first and then I became more adamant as the tears started to fall, as the realization began to set in – as I began to understand what those screams meant.

My father had died in his sleep, in front of the fan. He was wearing his black slacks and a navy-blue short sleeved shirt. …a day I will never forget. That day I lost my hero, my protector. I was forever changed. That day not only did I lose my father, but I lost my obliviousness to life. …what I gained was a hardness that had never existed before.

Our house was a buzz with people giving their condolences and bringing food for the next several weeks. In the weeks that followed there was an uneasiness between my mother and I. At the time of my father’s death, I was at a baton competition that I did not want to attend. My mother at the time was insistent that we go to the competition as Nationals was in a couple of weeks. …so we went. While I was winning awards at this competition, my father was transitioning.

Being daddy’s little girl, losing my father at such a young age was a devastating blow to my mind, body and soul. The bond we had and the support he gave me, cannot be described in a few words. The most poignant point to all of this is I discovered how much resentment I had towards my mother. If she hadn’t been so insistent that I attend that competition I might have been able to save him – he may not have died on that day. I was bargaining. I was in denial. I was angry. I was healing. I was on my way to accepting his death ~ but first I had to go through the stages of grief – which at the time, I knew absolutely nothing about.

My father passed in July, by October I had not touched my batons. I went to nationals just a few weeks after losing dad and then I didn’t want to touch my batons ever again. They were the reason he was gone. They were the reason that I was not home when my father needed me most. I started blaming. I started resenting. The two culprits for my father’s death – my batons and my mother. That was the thought process of a 16-year-old grieving teenager who never in a million years would have believed her father – her hero would die.

My anger and resentment kept building to a boiling point. Crying myself to sleep at night as quietly as I could was the norm. Not raising the blind in my room over the window that I looked out of as they were removing my father’s body from our home, was a sign of the pain and anguish that was coursing through me. The grief (un-recognized at the time) was present every day. My mother and I were just existing in the same house. Gone was the bond that we had as mother and daughter as I was so angry with her. Why did she have to take me to that competition! Why didn’t I hear or see her cry over dad? Why wasn’t she as sad as I was. How could she just go on like nothing happened? I wanted to scream but could not. I wanted to yell at her but did not dare. …or did I…

It all came to a head. All of the emotions came out. The screams that I had held in for days, weeks and months crossed my lips with ease. The profanity that I would never use towards my mother was non-stop as the pain poured from my soul to her ears. We had a fight. I had words. I spoke to her in a way that I had never done before. I yelled and I screamed. I cussed and I swore. …more importantly, I lived after I did that, because you simply did not speak to my mother like I was in that moment. That moment of cleansing and sharing my pain. I could not stop the words that were coming out of my mouth. They just came out like daggers to my mother’s heart. As she listened to me, her own speculation of the rift between her and I came to rear its ugly head. She KNEW I blamed her for my father dying. On that day, I found out that my mother knew my pain and had been waiting patiently for me to reveal it to her.

When she spoke those words to me and told me that she heard me crying myself to sleep every night – she figured out why my blind was pulled down – she knew why I slammed down a trophy every day that I won while my father was dying. When she said this to me in that moment something started to shift within my spirit. What pulled me all the way back to my mother is when she said, “I know you blame me for your father dying.”

My mind was whirling out of control. How did she know? I had never said a word to her. At that moment I was broken but the embrace my mother gave me, made me whole. She held me while I cried and let out the pain and agony of losing my father. She held me while I realized for the first time how she must feel. You see I was so wrapped up in my own feelings and grief I had forgotten that my mother had lost her husband, her companion, the father of her children, her partner in crime, her dance partner, her supporter of her career – at that time I realized that she had lost more than I had, and I had done nothing to comfort her. I was selfish and insensitive. I was a kid.

When I tell you, that hug was EVERYTHING. My mother and I bonded in that moment like we had never bonded before. It was her and I against the world. We became like two peas in a pod. We became so close that people called us Sisters. Over the next several months we laughed and planned our next move together. In our grief we became closer than ever.

Our next move was me graduating from High School. Her plan was going back to school for some sort of re-certification as a Cleveland School Teacher, which she had been already for about 20 years. We planned the ultimate vacation in Hawaii right after my national competition in Seattle, WA. Our plan included matching outfits and drinks with umbrellas in it – non-alcoholic of course. It truly was a glorious plan and it brought us so much joy to plan this vacation. However, unbeknownst to us at the time, fate had other plans…

After our ‘heated words’ we worked as a team. I wanted to get a job to help my mother (Ma is what I called her) out with the bills, but she told me that my job was to go to school. My dad was a handy man around the house could fix anything. I learned from him, and our neighbors pitched in. Everything was falling into place, except for the big hole that both my Ma and I felt with my dad not being there. It was difficult to say the least. Gut wrenching at times. But we stuck together and made everyday matter to each other. We laughed and talked about dad. We even both heard his whistle one time together. At that point we knew he was watching over us and we would be alright.

The months passed and we were getting ready for our big trip. Spring was in the air and the month of May rolled around. It was a beautiful day and my Ma and I were getting ready to go shopping. I was downstairs when I heard her fall. I rushed up the steps to see her lying on her bedroom floor laughing because she couldn’t get up off the floor. At first, I thought that she had slipped on the throw rug she had on her floor, but later we would find out the truth.

She stated that she needed help in getting on the bed and I helped her. At that point, I was taking any chances. I was getting the car and taking her to the hospital. This strength came from deep down inside of me. Something I had never tapped into before except for competitions. I had to take care of my mom. I helped her get her clothes on and went and backed the car up.

My mother had what I now know was a stroke. She was temporarily paralyzed on one side of her body. She managed to get down the stairs and by the time we reached the hospital she was almost back to normal. Tests were run and a conclusion was drawn. She had a blockage in her neck that needed to be removed.

At the time I was 17 years old. No one included me in the adult conversations even though at that young of an age I understood everything the doctor was saying, because I wanted to be an athletic trainer. I understood terminology and I knew this was a bad moment. But my mother wanted to make sure that we went on our vacation together. She postponed the surgery.

My mother and I never went on that vacation together. She died two weeks before we were supposed to go exactly 1 year and 1 week after my father had passed. It was her last day teaching for the school year. She had gone out to dinner with a few of her co-workers. I was at a neighbor’s house when she got home. I was coming out of the house with the kids and a few kids from the neighborhood. We were headed to the park for a bit. I told my Ma that our neighbor could use her company and my mother said that she would change her clothes and head across the street. I gave her a kiss and off to the park I went.

That would be the last time I saw my mother/Ma alive. Before I could get back from the park, my mother had had a massive stroke and heart attack on our neighbor’s front porch. As I and the kids got closer to the house they started to cry and I knew that I had to protect them. They thought it was their mother or father. They were crying and scared. I ushered them into my house and assured them that I had seen their mother and father on the porch. It never crossed my mind that is was my mother. A next-door neighbor Jane, who was a nurse, came to my house and asked me for my mother’s insulin. It still wasn’t registering that it was my mother. I remember saying, “Can John’s mother (who lived with them at the time) use my mother’s insulin?” That is when Jane realized that I had no clue that it was my mother and she was going to have to be the one to break the news to me. All the color drained from her face as she told me.

The rest is a blur until I arrived at the hospital. The doctors didn’t want to tell me because of my age, but John explained that I had lost my father the previous year. My mother was gone. I was an empty shell. I was able to see her one last time. I just remember that I had to do what she did when daddy died. So, I found her box with the phone numbers in it and started calling people to tell them of her passing. I became very robotic and very detached as I simply told people on the other end of the floor the was dead. Eventually, I was replaced as the notifier of her passing.

Hawaii was beautiful. A vacation I will never forget. My mother I now believe knew she wasn’t going to make this vacation with me and had made arrangements for my grandmother to go. I made sure that I had a great time for the both of us. I wore our outfits, and I swam in the ocean. I had my drink with the umbrella and thought of her all the time.

I flew back to Cleveland for the last time to my house. The following month I would leave the only home I knew. It would take me 38 years to return to Cleveland to live. My life wasn’t easy, but my parents had built a strong foundation. Gone was the happy go lucky kid, replaced by a woman determined to live. There have been mistakes along the way, but there has also been growth. I went on to teach Death and Dying as my practical in college to a class of teenagers. I was able to share my story which wound up helping a young man who would lose his father to an on-the-job accident.

A lot of folks would not have blamed me had I given up on LIFE after what I had went through. But that is now the daughter my parents raised. You keep going. My father used to say, “As long as you have breath in your body you can make a change. It’s when you stop breathing that you have problems.”

Granted losing my parents at such a young age at times was unbearable. The love that they gave me, I cherish with my entire being. My mother always pushed me to be the best version of me that I could be. I still miss both of them terribly. I’ve outlived both of them now, However, I keep their teachings in my heart. They weren’t perfect, but they were my parents and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss them and wish they were still here. Losing them, made me stronger and more resilient. I quickly learned what is really important in life.

My shero was gone and I’ve never been quite the same. I didn’t know what a strong woman she was until I saw my mother as my friend, my protector, my everything. We didn’t have enough time. I didn’t understand her strength until she was gone. I didn’t know her sacrifices for me until she wasn’t here. I miss them both, but I miss her most.

What I have done is use the foundation that my parents laid out for me. I’ve been on my own since I was 17 years old. Their teachings and upbringing I have never forgot. I’ve gotten through some very rough times in my life because of losing them that other folks would have ended it all over. I’m stronger than I realized, because of what I’ve been through. My father used to say, “As long as you have breath in your body you can make a change. It’s when you stop breathing that you have problems.” When things are tough, I remember this saying and I keep it moving.

My parents weren’t perfect, but my parents were present in my life and made me feel loved. They were both hard workers and worked hard to provide a stable environment for me to grow up in. They gave me opportunities to grow as a person and be involved in my community. They taught me the meaning of steadfastness and perseverance in the face of adversity. No one would have blamed me for giving up after losing my parents at such a young age, but you don’t know the foundation that my parents laid down for their daughter to overcome any obstacle that crosses her path.

Because of my loss I have empathy. Because of my loss I have resolve. Because of my loss I live every day as tomorrow isn’t promised. Because of my loss I know that change is the only constant. Because of my loss I know what true love is. Because of my loss I’m here and willing to face whatever life has to offer. My parents are with me all the time. They surround me in their love and protection. For most, this sounds devastating. For me…this is my life and I live it to the fullest!

Alright, so let’s move onto what keeps you busy professionally?
I, like my mother am an Educator. Sex Education is my field of study. Although I studied this field in college, I wound up with putting my dreams on the back burner in order to raise my daughter as a single mother after my husband and I divorced. At one point in my life and to this day, I started selling Adult Toys/Novelties and Lingerie. I needed to make ends meet and I found an avenue that I could use in order to Enhance the Romance!

I found a way to incorporate my educational background and my personal experiences. in such a way that my audience felt comfortable and were able to talk about sex more openly and freely. They discovered that there were other women in the room with the same questions and thought processes.

Home shopping parties became my niche, my way of talking to women about sex and educating them on what their bodies are capable of. I started out as a consultant for a company and then found my own whole seller and began my own business. By having my own, I’m not at the mercy of what the buyer wants us to sell. Originally, my former company was missing the mark with a lot of their products. Not enough variety in colors (which at the time I did not know was a ‘thing’ in the adult toy business, but quickly found out that if the two comes in different colors, you probably want to have at least one of each color on display.

Although I truly enjoyed working for my former company, I found out quickly just how large the adult toy business is by becoming my own boss. The variety alone was and still is to this day overwhelming! When I started to purchase my own items, I discovered an entire new world as I was able to cater to men, BDSM, couple toys and so much more.

As I got more into what my customers wanted, I discovered drop shipping. I found that I can do different types of Events and there could be more than one toy vendor at the event. I pride myself on having a large display when I’m able to set up my full display – which is 2 – 6′ tables and 1 – 4′ table.

I bring more to my shows by being able to add the educational component. In addition, I cater to clients that are into alternative lifestyles. My shows are not timed. My shows can get very passionate about the incorporation of adult toys to playtime as well as self-love/self-pleasuring.

I consider myself to be an Erotic Advisor, for I feel that I can only give people suggestions/ideals after we go over their issue(s). I believe in taking a case-by-case basis which my clients. I don’t believe in cookie cutter responses. Everything does not fit everyone.

I love the fact that I’m able to provide a safe space for men and women to talk about sex – to get real answers to their questions. Too often, we gloss over and/or are ashamed to talk about sex. WE don’t want to talk about sex at home and WE don’t want our educators to speak too much on the subject, although there is a class that students are going to in order to learn about sex. In addition, the way that Sex Education is taught is outdated and only teaching about ‘how’ to get pregnant and STI’s. Sex Education is not teaching intimacy and compromise in a relationship. Sex Education is not teaching communication skills which are needed in order to have GREAT sex. If you are unable to speak on the things you like sexually and/or the things you want to try, i.e. a new position or add an adult toy; your sex life could become very mundane.

My platform is about getting people comfortable about talking and having sex. Erotica 101 is where I begin, because the beginning is always a good place to start. Teaching couples how to more effectively communicate with one another. Validating their feelings. Teaching them about alternative lifestyles – monogamy is only one way to have a relationship. Making sure they know their bodies and how they work.

There is a lot more work to be done in this field. Reach one, teach one is very important in the field of sex education. There is so much to unlock in this field that will aid in making relationships last a lot longer.

Let’s say your best friend was visiting the area and you wanted to show them the best time ever. Where would you take them? Give us a little itinerary – say it was a week long trip, where would you eat, drink, visit, hang out, etc.
Well, if they are my friends, we are headed to a Dungeon! There are a couple in town that I can take them to. In addition, Cleveland is a ‘foody city’ so there are plenty of places to eat!

The Shoutout series is all about recognizing that our success and where we are in life is at least somewhat thanks to the efforts, support, mentorship, love and encouragement of others. So is there someone that you want to dedicate your shoutout to?
There are so many people that have helped to raise me after my parents passing. My Grandmother Mary E. Martin (deceased) and my Aunt Wilhelmina Aaron (deceased) and my Sister-in-Love Kathy Ramey took over for my parents in supporting me and allowing me to grow into a woman. They encouraged me and let me bump my head without judgement. They gave me the guidance I needed and advice that I could use to navigate the obstacles that life would throw at me.

I have a few friends that I consider family. Marie Eslick who I’ve known since 7th grade. Our friendship always seems to pick up where it left off. She is my rock and I love her so much! Yolonda Harris and Rhonda Carney are my ride or die Sisters. They have my back no matter what and I have theirs! Alexis Turner is like the daughter I helped raise. What a joy she is as she grows into her own. Jasmine Howard and Noel DuBois drive me nuts with their insecurities, but these two ladies have brought out the best in me by believing in me and my brand. Sharene Banks is the other side of my brain. Janet DuBois is the Best Neighbor EVER!

My Godmother – who lost her best friend but embraced me when I returned home. My two Godsons, Cameron and Jo’Nathan so proud of the young men that you both are becoming.

I have a daughter Chrishteyanna, but at the time of this writing we are estranged by her choice, and I accept her choice. No matter what, she is my heart. She is the reason that I have allowed my passion of teaching and talking about sex to come to the forefront of my life. She has this infectious entrepreneurial spirit that is outstanding. She has this drive and determination to be unconventional and do her own thing. I admire and love that about her. She is brave, where I was sometimes conditioned by my past of security in the workplace. In a way, I’ve now taken a page out of her book to become someone that can help and inspire others to step out of their comfort zone and be their authentic selves. I will always love her and one day we will be whole again. Yes, even people that work with others in relationships have their own trials and tribulations.

There are so many people in my life and so many situations that have had an impact on me, that I cannot name them all, but I hope that they know who they are. This is the very short list. I am the product of ‘it takes a village’.

Website: jewceetales.com

Instagram: @mzjewcee

Twitter: @MzJewceeOne

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/dara.smith.969/

Youtube: @mzjewceeone

Image Credits
Headshot: Studio 57 Photography – Indianapolis, IN