By: Jennette
When I was asked to write about a sexual experience, I wasn’t sure where to begin. Do I talk about the guys who used my body as a physical dumpster? Human flesh to work out his emotional distress. Do I dive deep into the guy who took me to KFC after losing my virginity to him? Or do I talk about the friend I wasted journal entries on. The one who stopped hanging out with me because I wasn’t ready to have sex with him?
It’s a combination of these types of experiences that have veered me away from sex. I’ve been celibate for nearly 3 years. One part, a choice to wait to be with someone who cares for me, and two parts, fear. I’m afraid. Not to be physically harmed, but afraid to feel like a hole in the mattress, again. A human Fleshlight.
“We all have our stories. But no one talks about them.”
None of my female friends ever spoke of having these types of experiences. For years, I thought it was just me. I was not worthy enough to have the amazing sexual encounters I heard about and saw on TV. For whatever reason, I wasn’t thin or pretty enough. And when I did have sex, I wasn’t having the Samantha Jones orgasm express experience either.
Most of the time I had sex, I felt ashamed. Time and again, I knew I wasn’t being treated well by my partner. He wasn’t there for my pleasure. He needed a release and I was the fool willing to give it to him. Why? Because I wanted him to like me. It hurts to think that I would sacrifice my self-worth for that, but at the time, I didn’t know any better.
It wasn’t until the babe.net piece about “Grace” and her night with Aziz Ansari that women in my life starting hinting at their own similar experiences.
WHERE WERE YOU BEFORE?
I needed you. Here I am hating on myself for not being the kind of girl a guy would want to take his time with--to care that I too am enjoying our time together—when we’ve all been there.
We all have our stories. But no one talks about them.
Even now, after the “Grace” story, the chatter about dehumanizing sex has died down. It’s like we’ve been forced to blame ourselves for the bad experiences.
“It is not my thought that said men do not care to see my humanity, to hear my thoughts, to notice my enthusiasm, or lack thereof.”
It is not my fault, that some men can only see me as a sexual object. A hole to stick his dick in, to please himself. It is not my fault that said men do not care to see my humanity, to hear my thoughts, to notice my enthusiasm, or lack thereof. These stories are relevant and we all need to hear them. We all need to tell them. But, how?
Even in my arguments, if you haven’t noticed, I haven’t been able to share the specifics of my own experiences. How do I return to a dehumanizing experience and illustrate it in prose?
In my own pleasure quest, I wonder, will writing and talking about it erase my fear of sex? In time, sooner than later, I hope my fear equation will change. At some point, maybe it will be closer to three parts being with someone who cares for me and zero parts fear.
THE FUQS
It is crucial that we share our sexual experiences with each other, the good, the bad AND the ugly. We are stronger together.
It is not your fault if he/she/they can only see you as a sexual object. It's okay to walk away from people who treat you poorly. Their loos. We are worthy of safe and positive experiences.
Celibacy isn't a bad word. Take a time-out from sex if you need to. Taking care of your own needs will help you understand what you want and need from a partner.
