I recently read a book where sexuality was described as the human way of attempting to re-connect with one another and with God. It doesn't necessarily only refer to 'sex' with people, but with the desire to intimately connect with people.
The book states that sexuality has two dimensions - firstly, our awareness of how profoundly we are severed and disconnected from each other and God. And secondly the ways in which we go about trying to re-connect.
(I have deliberately not referenced this book, because I'm not 100% sure that the author of the book would appreciate his work being linked with some of the content on this page. For anyone interested in learning more, please feel free to leave a comment or email me.)
It goes on to say that even people who live chaste lives can be very sexual people. It gives a variety of examples, and this point particularly hit home for me.
For a long time, I've had people refer to me or tell me that they see me as a very sexual person. At first I thought this was just because I talk about sex. A lot. But apparently it's more than that.
Even before the age of 19, when I first had sex, I was referred to as a sexual person - and this was back when I was uncomfortable talking about sex because I hadn't had it yet. And over the past six and a half years where I haven't had sex, haven't been in a relationship, and to be perfectly honest, haven't been looking, sexy and sexual are still words that have been used to describe me.
I don't see myself as sexy. Sure, I'm pretty. I have nice breasts, and a nice shape, I guess. But I'm overweight and have been self-conscious about my body for as long as I can remember ... until recently, I guess. But I do have confidence and maybe that's what it is.
I definitely never saw myself as sexual, but over time, I have realised that I am. I could never really define it until I read the definition of sexuality written in this book.
Because I am all about connecting with people. I recently told a man that I don't do superficial. I'm not interested in your cat's name or what you had for breakfast. I don't want you to ask me whether I've had a nice day or what my plans are for the weekend. I want to know what drives you, what your soul looks like, what you would do if you could do anything in the world for a living.
I want to know what makes you tick. I want to know what makes you excited about getting up in the morning, and what brings you down. I want to know where you go when things look like they're never going to go right again.
In essence, I want to know everything about everyone, and everything about the world.
And if sexuality is about the ways in which we try to reconnect with people, then I am definitely a sexual person.
But in terms of physicality and 'sex' in the now commonly used sense of the world, it has never really been that big a deal for me ... unless I'm in a relationship. My first 'real' relationship was when I was nineteen, and I started sleeping with this guy after about six weeks of dating. Some people might say that's a long time, and others might say it's nothing. For me it was both - we were both living in the same boarding house and saw each other every. Pretty much every night we would explore the physical side of our relationship, and six weeks was a real test for me.
And once I'd started, I didn't want to stop.
I love sex.
There's really no other way to put it. I love everything about it. I love being at the mercy of another person for pleasure. I love being in control of that over someone else. I love giving head ... pretty much more than anything else. In this, I truly believe it is better to give than to receive. The power I have in that moment is almost more of a turn on than anything physical that someone could do to me.
And I thrive on that connectedness with that person. When in that moment, you subconsciously and spiritually understand that you can never be closer to a person than you are in that moment. Wow - just writing that gave me shivers.
I can see why people get addicted to it.
It was always something that I knew that I would have to watch out for. I have always known that I have an addictive personality, so things like alcohol, drugs and sex are things that I have always treated with respect, knowing that they could easily have the power to control me, rather than the other way around.
But I have also known that sex was something that I only wanted to share with people that were special to me. In my less serious 'relationships' - which usually occur straight after I've had my heart broken - I have managed to do 'everything but' with several guys, always making it clear beforehand that I'm not sure how far I want to go and always when they've asked ('Oh please baby, I want to be inside you so bad!'), calmly said 'I'm sorry, but that's as far as I want to go'. And then I've given them the best blow job they've ever had in their life to make up for their disappointment.
So I find myself in an interesting situation at the moment. Until this year, the physical side of relationships - friendships mainly - was something completely unexplored for me. I didn't like people touching me. It was a standard rule, and everyone who knows me knows this. My close friends could hug me and comfort me when I was upset, and hugs for greetings and goodbyes were also permissible. Beyond this ... nothing. Affection was shown by words and deeds, not by physicality.
I'm not sure why this changed. I went overseas with an amazing group of people early this year and somehow I let go of a lot of baggage I was carrying around in respect of relationships - both romantic and otherwise. I finally let down my walls and trusted people, and found that, for the most part, they didn't let me down. And so it was okay to cuddle and hold hands and hug and generally just be affectionate. One of my favourite memories is of five of us curled up together on my sleeping bag under the stars, talking and enjoying the closeness of the moment.
Of course, the boy happened while I was over there too. The one who shall not be named and the one about whom I write, mostly. The who I believe is my soul mate and who still has my heart, even though he has said he doesn't want it. (Note to self - you need to do something about that.)
I've never had a connection with anyone like this in my life. I could write for hours about only this, but I won't. Essentially this was the first person I have connected with so perfectly on every level - intellectually, emotionally, spiritually, philosophically. And so when the opportunity arose to connect with him physically, there was no way that I could say no. And in giving that part of myself to him - for just one night - I lost all of myself and found all of myself again.
I came back physically affectionate, and it took a lot of my friends aback. They didn't know what to make of this new me, the one who would hold hands or sit close or put her arms around them.
And I came back craving and desiring much more physicality. Much, much more. Initially just from he who must not be named, but now just more. I was about to say 'I don't care from whom', but that's not true. I want it to be from someone who loves and adores and cherishes me and with whom I'm connected with on that level.
But let's be honest - that doesn't come along every day.
And you know what, curling up in the arms of a relative stranger who, at least for a night, is happy to pretend that he feels that way, goes a long way to one feeling loved and adored and cherished.
A couple of weeks back I took the very out of character step of inviting a man to my bed whilst at a party at a friend's house. It was purely fun, no strings attached, no commitments, no promises. And I made my usual speech about not being sure how far I wanted to go, and he was okay with that. And we laughed and we touched and we kissed and we hugged and we didn't go all the way and it was fine. And I fell asleep in his arms and it was completely comfortable and nice.
Of course, I thought about the nameless one many times throughout the whole experience, which did have a bit of a dampening effect.
But it was still nice and it was safe and I wouldn't say no to it happening again.
Is this me acting out my sexuality, or is this me trying to fill a void or a need within me that has been left because my heart is still a little bit broken? Is this me trying to re-connect with the world or is it me trying to prove that I am still beautiful and valuable and wanted, even though the one I want doesn't want me?
I've had to cut off all contact with one of my closest friends because my physical desires were jeopardising our friendship. Surely that's not just a healthy way of me acting out my sexuality?
And what about this blog, this attempt at amateur erotica and somehow getting my fantasies out of my head and into the world sometimes ... is this my expressing my sexuality, or is this a dark little secret that is actually making things worse, rather than better?
All I know for now is that I long for something that I don't have, and can see no chance of having in the immediate or intermediate future. And that makes me both sad and incredibly sexually frustrated.
Knowing what you're missing is definitely worse than not knowing.
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