* Read Part 1 *
Today was a great day. So I was a bit surprised by the slight emotional breakdown I just experienced.
It wasn’t caused by my intactivism on Twitter (explaining the horrors of both male circumcision and female genital cutting), or the raucous festivities happening just outside my apartment from the day parade of the local Mardi Gras krewes. I spent some time earlier researching vitamins for healthy skin since I’ve now lost 82 pounds, but my skin is not shrinking as fast as I’d like — apparently, it can take 2 years or more for skin to retract, assuming a woman has good genes, doesn’t have any more children, and bathes in the blood of virgins… (just kidding… not sure about that last part).
I think the breakdown may have been triggered by an impromptu conversation in the chat room of the AW Forum on the subject of emotion and sex.
Taking a break from the Twitterverse and looking for something to watch online, I remembered the amazing feelings from this morning, and the generally great feelings I’d had all day. I got a flash — a vision — in my mind’s eye about being with a partner, my Dream Man, as I call him. Not having sex, our clothes were on, in fact. I was just kissing his collarbone. And I suddenly burst into tears.
I had trouble breathing. I could feel the rush of adrenaline’s “fight or flight” rash-choice-conundrum rushing to the fore. Not prone to panic attacks, I was most concerned with why I was having this freak-out moment. Then I remembered a revelation I’d had when writing my breasts article about having never really known tenderness during sex. During the Twitter intactivism tonight, I had had to explain how friction sex can be painful — how my ex used to complain I got too wet during sex, he couldn’t get friction, so he’d pull out and use the sheet to dry me and him off and come back in to jackhammer away till he ejaculated…. The feelings that were now shaking my entire body as I cried and tried to breathe were the realization that I have no idea how to be intimate with a man.
I know about sex, sex spots, erogenous zones, positions, pressure points, hormones, and nerves. I know all about the physical connections, but I have never really made an emotional physical connection to a partner. The fact that emotion scares the hell out of most men doesn’t help the situation.
This past year I’ve been in Yin, and it’s really kicked me in my ass. I made so many realizations about myself last year that I thought (or hoped) I was done. Apparently, the Universe was saving this big whopper for right when I was least prepared to deal with yet another part of me that needs to be worked on.
Sex has never been about me, in my sexual experience. I never understood why people can just spend time kissing (isn’t that boring?) or holding hands (don’t you want me to hold something else?)… I never felt comfortable with just being with a partner. Once the sex got going, then I knew what my role was. Usually, I was the initiator, the aggressor, the one in charge. Men made it clear they were with me because they wanted to know if busty redheads were really as good in bed as they’d heard or seen in porn. They approached me with a certain expectation of what sex with me would be like, and I made sure I exceeded their expectations.
Sex in my marriage was never orgasmic for me, but then I didn’t think my pleasure was important. As a stay-at-home mother, I felt part of my duties was keeping him happy and earning my keep — sex did that while a blow job once a week prevented arguments about the bills. As I grew to detest him and the whole situation, I gained weight on purpose so he wouldn’t want me…. Just my luck — he liked fat chicks.
Now free, in control of my own life, and repairing my health and my body, I’m left with the remnants of what I’ve put myself through the past 15+ years. I look in the mirror as my body gets smaller, but so many imperfections remain. And so many imperfections dwell inside as well.
With intimacy, there isn’t exactly a projected outcome as there is with sex. The agenda of sex is lots of orgasms that lead to the climactic grande finale orgasm. Intimacy is a goal-less phenomenon, I guess, in which neither partner is in charge or at least, no one’s keeping tally on the orgasm scoreboard. Intimacy is being open emotionally to just being with a person, soft and tender… vulnerable. Without the sex techniques to keep a man enthralled, I really don’t know why a man would want to be with me… or what I have to offer…
This emotional breakdown was another wall coming down, and yet it is another bit of knowledge I will hold myself to when time for entering a relationship and finally — finally! — being able to love a man. I simply cannot allow myself to go backwards. Being in charge in the sex department is too easy. I need to allow myself to be open and vulnerable… more… yin… and that freaks me out….
Aroused and breaking through,
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- DailyOJ 12-14-11: My Journey From Sexual Abuse & Bad Marriage to Vocal Activist & Orgasm Goddess
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