I can remember I was in third grade as a bunch of us huddled around the dictionary in our private christian school as we looked up the word sex. We giggled and whispered thinking of so many more colorful things this word could mean. Then our teacher turned the corner and we all felt instant shame as we blushed trying to hide the Webster Dictionary.
Her face was so gentle and calm as she explained that sex was merely the way of determining gender, male or female. Which she proved by showing us the definition. That seemed to be enough for the rest of the kids as they each went to their desks, but for me, I was puzzled. I knew I wasnt being told the whole truth.
Why did I feel shame at being caught looking up a word that seemed to be so “hush-hush” but according to my teacher meant something so clean-cut.
I grew up being taught that sex was connected to shame. The words I remember my mom using to describe this word/act the most was “nasty” and “dirty”. It was drilled into me that sex was for marriage which a wife then submitted to her husband. Yet the bible I was told to read was riddled with metaphors of sex being beautiful and spiritual. And if it was meant for marriage, why was I, at such a young age already questioning the facts I were told to be true.
I had been sexually abused as a child yet I never felt a complete alienation from the act itself. I knew I held power over the persons that wanted my body for their own satisfaction. I would end up going into a dream like state during the act itself. Maybe I disconnected from reality completely and that’s why I continued to be intrigued. I was introduced to porn by the age of 4 and yes, I can still remember the images I saw from those magazines. To me I saw beautiful strong women who caused men to bow to their will. I saw art. It didn’t click till later what I was actually seeing.
The sexual abuse did mess with my mind in a way that is not like most. I wasnt fearful or scared. It was more of an annoyance because it seemed inevitable that it would happen again and again simply because I was a girl. At the time I found comfort in the attention. I was always longing for a more meaningful connection which I would get a glimpse at but in the end I was left behind in a state of confusion.
Living with divorced parents caused a deeply rooted disconnect with how I perceived a loving relationship between the world and myself.
I was a hardcore people pleaser growing up. Which would later make it hard to say “no” in my teen years. In the times I wanted the sexual advances I found that I wouldn’t allow myself to say “yes” or “no” aloud. It was easier to give myself for their pleasure in the time they wanted. In that decision, I would find myself safely in that welcomed trance where nothing could touch me and in that place I found comfort. This may have been a safe place for my mind, but it did nothing for helping me with healthy sexual thoughts.
I seem to split into two. I separated my mind from my body. Two completely different entities shut off from one another. One was that of a complete restful sleep and relaxation knowing it would be over soon. The other was watching from above seeing the complete unworldly joy in the one getting pleasure from my body. As for me, the pleasure I felt was not physical but mental. The curious thoughts that would go through my head were more like a scientist watching an experiment or an artist creating a masterpiece. In those moments I didn’t see shame I saw pleasure, but why wouldn’t I allow myself to get lost in the physical pleasure as well?. Was there really something wrong with how my mind understood how sex was suppose to be perceived.
Why was it me that was seeing sex so differently from those who were suppose teach me and help me to grow into being a healthy adult.
And why did it bring so much shame to the world around me? Why did my body clam up whenever the subject came up yet wish I could somehow communicate the truth going on inside me. Which was I liked sex, but maybe I saw through their eyes and not my own.
Why didn’t anyone want to tell me the truth about this hidden God-given truth!
That Sex is Good.
I guess I wanted to write this to show myself I am not ashamed of sex, but that I still have questions on why no one wants to share their sexual stories of real life. Where is the safe haven to teach that sex is okay to think about and that shame and guilt need not be present to accept ones own sexuality.
I, like everyone who has a pulse, some way or another enjoys the feelings of being aroused, in their own way. It has the ability to lift our spirits and clear our minds. A scientific fact, yet not many want to tackle this subject.
I’ll just leave this here. 😉