It’s sinful. I’ve been absent from this space for too long. I’m sorry.
A lot happened. Namely I started grad school. My head is spinning. I don’t remember feeling quite this… under water when I was in college, but, then again, I wasn’t a single parent when I was in undergrad. I didn’t own a house either. An old house. Life is different when you’re adulting all the time.
A weird reality has happened to me in the meantime. A reality I only fantasized about when I was married.
My ex-husband was completely wrong about me. For those of you leaving bad relationships, please hear that. I don’t know what it is about humans, but we have such a special capacity to level each other with our words razing self-esteem and self-image as we go. My ex said some horrible things to me when we were together, and his words were aimed directly at my sense of self. He hit the bullseye every time, too. What’s funny to me is that the physical abuse has been far easier to overcome. The psychological, verbal, and emotional abuse, however, have been lasting. We each have to find our healing path. I did not anticipate what mine would be. In fact, I thought that it was an impossibility, in some ways, to fully heal sexually speaking. I felt so unwanted, tainted, defective, and ugly after the years with my ex that I couldn’t imagine actually meeting a man much less being wanted by one. But then…
I met someone.
And, it was weird for me. Why? Well, when I first met him I was quite put off because he was, well, so attractive. Truly. I felt squirrelly around him. He made me feel skittish and strange. I felt like I was this inexperienced 15 year-old who knew nothing about anything. I had never had an orgasm. I had spent the last two and half years begging my husband for sex only to be turned down repeatedly. He told me that I was broken. I was the problem. I was a sexual minefield. I felt invisible and worthless. My biggest hope at the time was to come home and feel safe. I thought I would be alone for the rest of my life, but being alone seemed good. It was better than what I had.
So, there I was talking to this, quite frankly, hot guy with a lot of life experience and sexual charisma who seemed to like me. He complimented me all the time and made it quite plain that he was very attracted to me. I just sat there, my mouth hanging open, feeling sort of like this on the inside…
Now, it’s not like I haven’t done anything in my life. I’ve traveled the world with the State Department. I’ve attended a foreign university and lived in another country. Hell, I put myself through a year of college working as a nude model for the local universities’ studio art classes. I’ve got stories. I’ve got life experience, but my self-perception does not match, and I’ve asked other people about this: “Do you still feel socially awkward? Like you’re sort of stuck in a John Hughes film?” More often than not, the answer has been yes. Put me at a table with a group of drunk and horny Greek sailors, and I’ll ask the captain what modern-day fishing techniques he employs vis-à-vis the traditional fishing modalities of his countrymen. Flirting and drinking don’t even come to mind. I have often wished to be a bit more vixen and less Kenneth Parnell…
Alas, I am not. I viewed myself as the awkward, anorgasmic woman who couldn’t flirt. That was my starting point. Well, your starting point does not have to be your ending point or even your midpoint. Oh, I’m still me, but nothing is the same now because that gorgeous, brilliant man became my friend. And then…he beckoned me to think outside of the box a little bit. Maybe I wasn’t anorgasmic. Maybe there was absolutely nothing wrong with me. Maybe I had been with a bad partner. Then he said, “Perhaps you simply need to feel loved and accepted to come. That’s not abnormal.”
Was it that simple? I needed to feel loved and accepted by my partner to have an orgasm? Twenty years of marriage and I hadn’t once felt loved or accepted? Was that true? I had to think about it. I might have felt loved sometimes, but I never felt accepted. I always felt faulty or deficient. I could never relax. Ever. I could never really get turned on. I didn’t even know what feeling truly turned on felt like. I read erotica so I knew what it felt like in terms of description. I could imagine it. Experientially? Well, it had been a long time.
I was starting to understand attraction and arousal pretty quickly after meeting my new friend. I felt like a hot, wet mess every time I talked to him. What started out as friendship became a crush. Then, love happened. And, I have to say that when love and lust mix, it is one potent cocktail.
I’ve thought about where to take this blog. I have a lot of content I could post. I am no longer anorgasmic. In fact, much to my surprise, I am polyorgasmic. I like to think that it’s recompense. I’m making up for lost time. And then, of course, there was that…ahem…squirting incident. Good Lord!
I’ve had a lot of time to think about it. I write, in part, to process, but I also want to write to benefit others. Sex is vitally important to health and well-being as well as to the quality of relationships. I know this first hand. My most popular posts are about anorgasmia and cervical orgasms. People want to have better sex, better orgasms, or just orgasms. Period. I can write all about that because I have lived in the sexual desert, and I am now in the Promised Land.
Oh, don’t misunderstand, I was true to form. For those of you who know me from my previous blog, I have been just as awkward and goofy in the learning process as you might imagine. My first time having sex after seventeen years of bad sex and almost three years of almost no sex mixed with sexual violence? Uh…to say that I did not know what to expect is a colossal understatement. I hadn’t even kissed another man since my 20s! My very first orgasm? I didn’t know what was happening to me. Honestly, I felt like I was falling off the bed. I started reaching for the air thinking that there was a handle or something to grab. My boyfriend asked me if I was conducting an orchestra. For real. Getting naked for the first time? This may as well have been my internal monologue…
It has, however, been a glorious and wonderful journey, and I am beyond gratified not so much sexually but emotionally. I have an extraordinary man in my life, and I’m building a life that I thought was unavailable to me. I am blown away by it every time I stand back and take in the view.
I had always hoped that our past experiences did not have to limit our present trajectories and, therefore, our future possibilities. That is what I held onto in my darkest hours. I can now say for certain that this is true.
So, keep climbing.