A sea of pleasure.
That’s how I remember thinking about the best sex I’d ever had, in that moment.
There’s something to be said for the power sex has in our lives and relationships.
We’re surrounded by it but often incredibly disconnected from the actual experience.
How can we liberate ourselves from our puritanical inner demons?
That’s a question I’ve been asking myself for a long time.
I grew up in a very conservative, religious environment where any mention of sexuality was forbidden.
I was sexually assaulted when I was 12 and consequently had all of my sexual agency taken from me.
To say I have a sordid sexual past is an understatement.
Although it was a short-lived relationship, we did have sex on our second date.
The sex was good…I guess.
For as long as I could remember, I was very enthusiastic about sex.
I was a very sexual young woman who craved, desired, and put herself out there for sex.
But when I first started having sex, I found myself unable to engage.
I wasn’t really there.
At first, I thought maybe it was just a fluke.
Sexuality was becoming my enemy rather than my friend.
I was the problem.
So, I turned inward.
I listened to my own voice.
I heard my hurting inner child.
She didn’t want to be touched.
I was desperate to get out.
When I understood this, I took that check all the way to the bank.
I decided to cut myself off from sexual energy and practice celibacy.
Now, I had good intentions, I really did.
Suddenly, I becameashamed of any sexual thoughtthat occurred to me.
I felt trapped every time I thought about a cute guy I liked.
I felt stuck in my own body.
When I would get undressed to take a shower, I felt dread.
If I felt desire, I’d instantly clam up with fear and shame.
Sexuality was becoming my enemy rather than my friend.
So, I finally took my power back.
I ended my celibacy in a sacred yet unexpected way.
Instead, I went far out of my comfort zone, to aone-night stand.
Well, a one-Sunday-afternoon stand, at least.
I realized, “I’m still here.
I’m still on this bed, in this body.”
I didn’t leave.
Hell to the fucking yes.
I was pleasantly surprised by his warmth, charm, and intellect.
One date soon turned into sleepovers, secrets in the dark, and warm, passionate embraces.
I remember when it was clear we were going to take things up a notch during our second sleepover.
I told him everything.
He just held me and listened, affirming my truth.
I also told him about the dissociationsomething I’d never done with a potential sexual partner, ever.
He wanted to know what he could do to prevent me from slipping into numbness.
He listened and he acted.
That’s when the floodgates opened up and the sea of pleasure emerged.
I’d never experienced such asacred act of sex.
Finally, I was free.
