Problematic Sexual Preferences

As you may know, my boyfriend and I have been doing the long-distance thing for nearly a month now. I was somewhat surprised that it didn’t happen immediately, but the other day he finally asked me about sexting. This is the point in a relationship where my emotional and sexual immaturity really starts to become clear to me. I’ve mentioned before that I have hardly any sexual interest. I believe this is partially due to the SSRI I am taking, but I digress. The point is, I wanted to tell him that I’m not comfortable with sending pictures of myself. I don’t really mind dirty talk. I can actually have a good bit of fun with that. However, for some reason instead of just being honest, I told him I was okay with everything. I guess I’m still just afraid that if I’m honest he won’t like me as much.

I hear my mental voice saying these things and I just want to scream. I sound like the fourteen year old girls that I meet at my child advocacy center. It makes me feel so ashamed that I can’t be a better role model for them. Not that they would ever have any clue what I do in my personal life, but still. I feel like a hypocrite, advocating for these young girls, telling them that they have every right to be comfortable and expect their boundaries to be respected. Yet in my own life, I cave to social pressures just as easily. I don’t know why I struggle so much being true to myself in these types of situations. I’m embarrassed by how embarrassed these topics make me at twenty-eight years old.

Now my dilemma is how to go about finally telling the truth about how I feel. At first it felt like it was too late. I said okay, so now I have to keep going along with it. Then I felt ridiculous for thinking that. Consent can be withdrawn at any point. I believe that for the young girls I work with, so I must also believe that for myself. It’s not even that I fear Nate being upset with me. I know he’s an amazingly kind boy and will be completely understanding. He would probably even feel guilty knowing that I’ve been allowing him to push me past my limits.

Which brings me to the next issue I’ve been having. Nate is a very kind, considerate boyfriend. He asked my permission before he kissed me the first time. He routinely makes sure what he’s doing is okay with me when we are together. While I respect the hell out of him for that and wish more men were like him, especially given the things I hear every day in my line of work, it doesn’t really suit me personally. This is where my “problematic” sexual preferences come in. Given that I’m not very often even interested in sex, I have very specific turn ons. Mainly, they all center around being submissive. I like to feel like the reluctant, innocent, object of desire. Quite ironic since in the rest of my life I am a violently outspoken feminist.

In the past this hasn’t been much of a problem. Most men I’ve been with are very forward and sexually aggressive. They didn’t ask permission and my hesitancy was seen as an opportunity for persuasion rather than a signal to back off. Now normally, I’d say that is really walking the line of coercion and consent. These are dangerous sexual situations to be in for both parties. Yet I think that’s part of the reason it excites me. A lot of my turn ons are unspoken assumptions. I like to feel like my partner wants me sooo much that they can’t help themselves. That’s the only way I ever really feel “sexy.” I don’t want to be asked if I want to have sex. I want them to convince me.

Poor communication is where it all starts to become problematic. I know that if I explained the way I feel to Nate, he would be more than happy to oblige me. However, just knowing that he’s doing it because I told him to ruins it. Now do you see my issue? The only thing that gives me a small amount of comfort is knowing that other women have felt this way. I still remember a comedian joking, “I’m just supposed to rape you and hope you’re into that?” Yes, frankly. But I see why that’s not okay from the man’s point of view. I’m really at a loss of what to do about it.

I realize that this is a VERY personal topic to be discussing in the open forum of the internet. However, I want my blog to be a safe place where I can be completely open and honest with myself and the world. It helps that I don’t know anyone on here personally. Despite that, I’d genuinely like some feedback. Do you have any ideas or suggestions on how I can approach these sensitive issues? Have you ever had similar sexual problems? Were you able to resolve them? How? Any and all advice, questions, or comments are welcome. I can use all the help I can get.

Teen Sexting: What Should Parents Be Aware Of

Sketchy Sexual Experiences

I was talking to my friend the other day on the phone. I wanted to know some of the less discussed details about the beginning of her relationship with her now husband. When did they first kiss, how long did they wait before having sex, etc. Even though I know that these things are highly personal milestones in any relationship, I felt like it would help me to have some idea of the timelines for other people. Discussing this with her was highly therapeutic for me. I realize that I don’t need anyone else to justify my decision on waiting to have sex. In the end it’s my decision and whenever I choose to have sex with a partner is valid. Yet it did help me feel more confident and reassured after hearing someone else’s perspective and experience.

Working at a child advocacy center for over a year now, I’ve learned a lot more about sex and consent than I expected. It is absolutely heartbreaking to hear the stories of some of these teen girls who we see here. Their stories all sound so similar. They tell us they didn’t want to scream or make a scene. They second guess and doubt their own intuition and perspective. They are ashamed. They blame themselves. They don’t know what to do. They feel bad for their abuser even, at times. After a while, something finally clicked inside of my head and I began to see my younger self in a lot of these girls. Some of the scenarios they describe sound so familiar.

When the Me Too Movement first started a few years ago, I felt somewhat conflicted. I saw everyone around me sharing stories of times they had been abused or disrespected by men. It seemed like all women had at least one story. Yet after searching my memories, I felt I didn’t have any of these types of experiences. I felt lucky, of course, grateful, but I also felt confused. Why didn’t I have any of these stories when so many other women did? I couldn’t find a satisfying answer. Of course my self-hating, low self-esteem mind told me that it must be because I’m not attractive enough to be assaulted. Which I know is offensive and ridiculous.

Since that time, I’ve thought about a lot to different sexual encounters I had growing up. It feels weird to say, but looking back, I feel like I was victimized at least twice without even realizing it or acknowledging it. How can that be possible? I’ve asked myself that question, and I still don’t know. Maybe the only separation is whether or not you feel like you’ve been traumatized. That doesn’t seem right to me either though. Just because a lot of the kids we see at our center are in love with their abuser or even enjoyed the sexual experiences they’ve had, doesn’t mean how things happened wasn’t wrong. It doesn’t mean these adult men haven’t broken the law and done egregious things. Does the fact that at the time I was complacent or believed I deserved what happened because of the situation I put myself in make what happened to me acceptable? I don’t think so.

It’s not as if I want to go after these boys from my past or have them prosecuted. Although I’ve come to accept I wasn’t to blame for what happened back then, I don’t necessarily put the blame on those boys either. I think what’s more important is to address the toxic, sex-phobic culture we were raised in. The culture that led me to believe being drunk and alone with boys meant it was my fault if I was then sexually assaulted. The culture that taught these boys what they did was normal, perfectly alright behavior. This is what I want to address. I don’t think the boys from my past had any intention to harm me or even disrespect me. They were just doing what young boys are expected to do. I doubt they viewed themselves as sexual predators, nor do I necessarily want them to. I just want us all to learn together how we can communicate better and respect one another so we can facilitate healthy sexual experiences, especially for teens and young adults.

During that phone call with my friend, we talked a lot about my sexual promiscuity when we were in college. Her impression was that I just had a high sex drive, that I was being care-free and having fun. She seemed surprised and somewhat saddened when I told her that actually wasn’t the case. I just didn’t know myself well enough, didn’t understand relationships enough, to make the right decisions. Given that my first sexual partner was someone that I was dating and who I was deeply in love with, I didn’t really grasp the correlation between love and sex. Desperate to feel that same emotional intimacy, that spiritual closeness, I found myself confusing it and conflating it with physical intimacy. I really didn’t have desire for the actual act of sex with most of the men I’ve been with. What I desired and hoped to obtain from sex was actually love and tenderness. As you might imagine, it took me a long time to understand and process the pain of never finding it.

This is one of the many reasons why we need to teach our children how to have these important conversations surrounding sex. The more prepared we make them, the easier it will be to talk about with their partner when the times comes. I wish I had been wise enough, brave enough, to ask more questions of my partners before having sex with them. Questions like: what does sex mean to you? where do you see our relationship going, if anywhere? do you have romantic feelings for me or are you only interested in a physical relationship? I always made the mistake of just assuming we were on the same page. Then I felt heartbroken and wronged upon discovering that wasn’t the case.

In addition, we need to emphasize that while no means no, only an enthusiastic, informed yes is true consent. Pressuring someone until they eventually give in is not consent. An obviously reluctant partner that hasn’t verbally said no is not consent. It is so important that we all work to improve society when it comes to its ideas and understanding of the complex issues surrounding sex. I only wish I could go back in time and share this new, deeper understanding with the young girl I once was. Instead I will try to help other young girls avoid my same mistakes.

Photo by ROMAN ODINTSOV on Pexels.com