If you're new here, you may want to subscribe to my RSS feed. You could also get new content delivered directly to your inbox. Thanks for stopping by!
[Is this really] sexual freedom,
or sexual acting out based on your past sexual abuse?
–comment on this post
In the past thirty-two months, I’ve written a fair amount about sex. The sex I’ve experienced has been both tender and tawdry, private and public, in groups and alone. A few of my escapades have been fairly traditional (if there is such a thing), while others have pushed boundaries that would give many folks the vapors.
While some of the encounters turned out to be ill-advised, I regret none of them. I had my reasons for being with every partner, and I think I’ve almost always acted in a loving manner toward each one when we were together — and even when we were apart.
I’ve given my body and my heart with a sense of playfulness, connection and joy. I think this is the way to sexual happiness, whether it’s in a long-term relationship or in one that’s more ephemeral.
The joy is key. I think I’ve got the joy.
So I was ever so slightly puzzled to receive the above comment not long ago. I’ve wondered from time to time what part abuse played in my sexual development, but I’ve worked hard enough (with counseling, thinking, reading, writing, medicine and duct-tape) that I feel confident in my status as a mostly-well person.
We get ourselves into trouble when we see only two opposite possibilities. Male or female. Gay or straight. Right or wrong. Black or white. Democrat or Republican. Good or evil. These are things we’ve trained ourselves to think of in terms of contradictory pairs, when in reality the possible outcomes are infinitely more complicated.
Binary doesn’t much work where people are involved.
Yet we still try to make it work. There seems to be a perception that only two possibilities exist for those of us who have dealt with sexual abuse. We’re either supposed to cringe away from sex, or else we use it to “act out” our pathologies.
Are these the only choices? Is there nothing in the middle? Is there no chance that a person with abuse in her past could acknowledge that abuse happened, forbid it from controlling every decision, and then enjoy the sexual aspects of her life?
Maybe we prefer our grown-up victims to be either asexual or out of control, virgins or sluts, little girls or sex-crazed maniacs. Maybe it’s easier to imagine relating sexually to one of those extremes. With the first, sex can be ignored. With the latter, it can be grabbed up without any thought.
Forgotten or casually snatched, either choice seems easier to negotiate than the reality, which is this: Someone who has abuse in her past will require patience, compassion and a little bit of hand-holding from time to time — just like everyone else, for whatever disparate reason.
I don’t mean to jump on the person who left the original comment; for some reason I’ve been bludgeoned by this particular idea from several different sources of late. And I am so blessedly tired of it.
I want to believe that I’m entering into all my relationships, sexual or not, with the idea of enriching my life and the life of my partner. I want to learn and celebrate and stretch boundaries and have a whole lotta fun all at the same time. Is that acting out?
You guys would tell me if you thought I were acting out. Wouldn’t you?
******
Babeland is doing some super-kewl stuff during May to celebrate Mother’s Day. Go check it out, and I’ll be writing more about sexy mamas as the month progresses.




