Sex
"I think I may have lost my belief in it (sex). I don't know that I believe in it's goodness. Not of course, the physical part, but the emotional." Words from a friend to me in despair. Now, in all honesty, this friend asked me not an hour before if I would be hurt if we slept together and then I didn't hear from him, if it would hurt our friendship. I was shocked. And I said yes, yes it would hurt our friendship and it would hurt me, and I hadn't known that was what he was expecting. Perhaps he wasn't but the question was raised.
But the loss of belief in the goodness of sex, the desire to see sex as something deeper than just the physical part, that I understand. I hugged him. I didn't know how to help him in the moment as I myself have felt of late an intense disappointment in sex. My experience of it has been rather shocking to me. Not that I regret, I have learned so much. But I have lost so much it seems too. I told him, I understood, sex doesn't have to just be getting off with another person (seriously, if one more person treats me as simply a cup-holder I'm going to get violent). But so many people resign themselves to just that and I can't explain why. You have to work to make things meaningful but it's so worth it. And, he may have been disappointed, but there's more out there, there really is.
I was, as everyone knows, virgin until 24. And, to be certain, I had gotten frustrated that it seemed my sole identity was merely in that... being a virgin. I could scream at the top of my lungs and it seemed I was simply the girl who hadn't ever had sex. . Even to my family. Especially to my family. arg. And it frustrated me when I was lauded for my commitment to celibacy and "waiting" because to be honest, I had never had another option. I had to wonder... was I celibate because I chose to be? Well... noone had ever wanted to sleep with me (that may not be true, but I had never been in a situation to know one way or the other). The first long term boyfriend I had was committed to waiting for the first year of our relationship. After a year, I brought it up. We considered it, then we broke up. Then before I knew it I was 24 and dating Case and I loved him and I knew that I wanted him to share this experience with me. I wanted him to be part of my history. He spoke of love relationships and sex so beautifully I believed that he knew, KNEW that all three things could be dynamic, beautiful and extraordinary. Extraordinary is important to me. Why be average when you can be amazing. I like to be the best. Not in a competitive way but in a potential way. I have this deep drive to know just exactly the heights you can reach in relationships, in love. Oh, my heart seems to be exhilerated 90% of the time. I knew Brendon didn't connect with that part of me and so I couldn't sleep with him, but Casey, Casey spoke as if he did. He played me music on his guitar and cried with me when I was bleeding. But I found, late in the game, that Casey knew how to say what people wanted to hear. And he did. and in the end all that meaningful, dynamic, beautiful sex that we had meant nothing. To him at least. I was 100%. I cherished his skin. I took the time to feel his breath on my cheek. I experienced him in and out of the bedroom. His family, his ambitions, his insecurities and I took them into account. He used me and then when he was bored again he looked for other women online. at work. at the supermarket. I cried not over him, but of the loss of meaning. That identity I worked hard to define changed for me. I wasn't defined by my virginity anymore, I was defined as the girl with the cheating boyfriend. The non-virgin, the victim. My new name was "sexually active". Oh and precancerous. Lets not forget that.
Then D. He actually said he loved me. He spoke of dreams and futures and connection and loss and longing and I believed him too. And I cared for him. And I slept with him. And in the end, he wrote to me to make sure that I knew that the sex was fun but meant nothing to him..."is that alright" he ended his text. Belief. My beliefs are dimming as well.
I could go on but it's more of the same. Sex can mean nothing. I understand that. The question is, can it mean something? Can it? It must be able to because it has to me. Sex, the commitment to another persons well-being and a promise to protect and love thier vulnerability. Is it just me that sees it that way? Every man I slept with I made a vow to protect and cherish their body, their insecurity, their weaknesses and their desires. And I did. I do. Is that ridiculous?
I don't want it to be, because I truly believe that is what I am looking for, waiting for. Sex is just an aspect of a relationship and all aspects should be an acting out of those promises. When I do your laundry it is because I am actively supporting your life and your needs. When I accompany you to your parents it is because I am actively protecting, encouraging and nourishing your need for your family. When I sleep with you I am protecting your vulnerablity, taking care of your physical needs, spending time with you, experiencing a unique experience with you. And the kicker is, I am believing you are doing the same.
I am a horrific over thinker and I am aware of that. But isn't this deeper meaning what the majority of people are searching for in their lives, careers, relationships? Or is that just a lie that the overdramatic media spin for saps like me?
I told my "friend" a much abridged version of this. Things are what you make them and often others you trust don't think the same way. and while its damaging, it doesn't have to be demolishing. I don't have the answer. Perhaps sex will always mean nothing. But I still think it can. I just don't think it's a given anymore.
I used to be frustrated that sex seemed to seep into everything, to define everyone. But now I know, sex is so important to us. Songs, movies, books throughout time center on it. Our orientation is our identity. Our sexuality drives us and perhaps that makes sense in light of the fact that it is the only act that furthers our existence in the world. Procreation drives and excites us. Connection defines us. Sex is one of the most important things in our lives. and that is why it leaves us vulnerable. Anything that means that much, becomes a tool of both beauty and destruction.
But the loss of belief in the goodness of sex, the desire to see sex as something deeper than just the physical part, that I understand. I hugged him. I didn't know how to help him in the moment as I myself have felt of late an intense disappointment in sex. My experience of it has been rather shocking to me. Not that I regret, I have learned so much. But I have lost so much it seems too. I told him, I understood, sex doesn't have to just be getting off with another person (seriously, if one more person treats me as simply a cup-holder I'm going to get violent). But so many people resign themselves to just that and I can't explain why. You have to work to make things meaningful but it's so worth it. And, he may have been disappointed, but there's more out there, there really is.
I was, as everyone knows, virgin until 24. And, to be certain, I had gotten frustrated that it seemed my sole identity was merely in that... being a virgin. I could scream at the top of my lungs and it seemed I was simply the girl who hadn't ever had sex. . Even to my family. Especially to my family. arg. And it frustrated me when I was lauded for my commitment to celibacy and "waiting" because to be honest, I had never had another option. I had to wonder... was I celibate because I chose to be? Well... noone had ever wanted to sleep with me (that may not be true, but I had never been in a situation to know one way or the other). The first long term boyfriend I had was committed to waiting for the first year of our relationship. After a year, I brought it up. We considered it, then we broke up. Then before I knew it I was 24 and dating Case and I loved him and I knew that I wanted him to share this experience with me. I wanted him to be part of my history. He spoke of love relationships and sex so beautifully I believed that he knew, KNEW that all three things could be dynamic, beautiful and extraordinary. Extraordinary is important to me. Why be average when you can be amazing. I like to be the best. Not in a competitive way but in a potential way. I have this deep drive to know just exactly the heights you can reach in relationships, in love. Oh, my heart seems to be exhilerated 90% of the time. I knew Brendon didn't connect with that part of me and so I couldn't sleep with him, but Casey, Casey spoke as if he did. He played me music on his guitar and cried with me when I was bleeding. But I found, late in the game, that Casey knew how to say what people wanted to hear. And he did. and in the end all that meaningful, dynamic, beautiful sex that we had meant nothing. To him at least. I was 100%. I cherished his skin. I took the time to feel his breath on my cheek. I experienced him in and out of the bedroom. His family, his ambitions, his insecurities and I took them into account. He used me and then when he was bored again he looked for other women online. at work. at the supermarket. I cried not over him, but of the loss of meaning. That identity I worked hard to define changed for me. I wasn't defined by my virginity anymore, I was defined as the girl with the cheating boyfriend. The non-virgin, the victim. My new name was "sexually active". Oh and precancerous. Lets not forget that.
Then D. He actually said he loved me. He spoke of dreams and futures and connection and loss and longing and I believed him too. And I cared for him. And I slept with him. And in the end, he wrote to me to make sure that I knew that the sex was fun but meant nothing to him..."is that alright" he ended his text. Belief. My beliefs are dimming as well.
I could go on but it's more of the same. Sex can mean nothing. I understand that. The question is, can it mean something? Can it? It must be able to because it has to me. Sex, the commitment to another persons well-being and a promise to protect and love thier vulnerability. Is it just me that sees it that way? Every man I slept with I made a vow to protect and cherish their body, their insecurity, their weaknesses and their desires. And I did. I do. Is that ridiculous?
I don't want it to be, because I truly believe that is what I am looking for, waiting for. Sex is just an aspect of a relationship and all aspects should be an acting out of those promises. When I do your laundry it is because I am actively supporting your life and your needs. When I accompany you to your parents it is because I am actively protecting, encouraging and nourishing your need for your family. When I sleep with you I am protecting your vulnerablity, taking care of your physical needs, spending time with you, experiencing a unique experience with you. And the kicker is, I am believing you are doing the same.
I am a horrific over thinker and I am aware of that. But isn't this deeper meaning what the majority of people are searching for in their lives, careers, relationships? Or is that just a lie that the overdramatic media spin for saps like me?
I told my "friend" a much abridged version of this. Things are what you make them and often others you trust don't think the same way. and while its damaging, it doesn't have to be demolishing. I don't have the answer. Perhaps sex will always mean nothing. But I still think it can. I just don't think it's a given anymore.
I used to be frustrated that sex seemed to seep into everything, to define everyone. But now I know, sex is so important to us. Songs, movies, books throughout time center on it. Our orientation is our identity. Our sexuality drives us and perhaps that makes sense in light of the fact that it is the only act that furthers our existence in the world. Procreation drives and excites us. Connection defines us. Sex is one of the most important things in our lives. and that is why it leaves us vulnerable. Anything that means that much, becomes a tool of both beauty and destruction.
posted by Coco at 11:56 PM
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