Realization

Realization – Write about a time when you realized something about your sexuality.

I copied the quote above because I believe this was the core of my realization about my sexuality.  Actually, it is the core of all my realizations about myself, regardless of what aspect of my life.  Focusing on my sexuality and any of my realizations is easier than addressing the other parts of my life, believe it or not.  Or, maybe it is an equal balance.  The problem is, I don’t have just one realization in reference to my sexuality.  There are many and there continues to be many.  This is also very cloudy and I struggle to even remember the first realization.

The first thought about my sexuality was that I was obviously defective.

The age I realized all my friends were having sex is a little vague, but probably 15 or 16.   Assuming it makes sense they were having sex because they had boyfriends and I did not.  My friends were having good sex.  They enjoyed it, loved it, had orgasms, talked about how great their boyfriends were.  It was all just like we learned it should be from the fairy tales.  Then when I did get a boyfriend or started having sex, my realization was that I was defective.  This was not fun or romantic.  It also wasn’t like the fairy tales!  I surely wasn’t having orgasms, and mostly I remember just wanting it to be over.

I don’t remember actually thinking it was boring, but looking back that is how I would categorize it.   What was the big deal?  It wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t earth-shaking either.  It was whatever.  I didn’t expect it to be like the movies or even the limited porn I had exposed myself to, but I expected that after I did it, I would at least look forward to it.

Then there was the realization that maybe it was just that one guy. 

That lasted for about two more sex partners before I just gave up and decided I just wasn’t good enough in bed.  I wasn’t having orgasms.  Most of the time I was so worried about how I looked naked that I just wanted it to be over.  Looking back now, I realize that was part of the problem.  It is very difficult to let go and enjoy the moment when you are worried about thigh spread and stomach fat getting in the way.  My self-image was couldn’t have been worse unless it just didn’t exist.   Back then, at the moment, I just assumed it was me, and in some ways, it was.

I do have to throw a little shade to the guys I was with.  Being an equal opportunity orgasm seeker, I tried boys my age, men much older, and pretty much everything in between.  Some may think there were whorish characteristics, and it may have looked that way, but I was definitely trying to find the one that could make this sex stuff make sense for me.  Never thinking about trying something new and different, I just kept doing the same things with different men.  They, however, didn’t exactly exceed expectations in the creativity zone so it wasn’t all my fault.  I remember one guy that got me as close as I had ever come to have an orgasm through penetration.  He turned out to be married so I let that go but that was when I at least realized it could be possible.

There were many situations that made me think, I just didn’t follow up or catch the clues.

It wasn’t that I wasn’t trying.  Trying hard to let my mind be in the moment and not worry about how I looked or put pressure on myself about having an orgasm, I kept searching.  It was starting to feel like research.  Who knew you could ask for something different, or ask for anything for that matter.  I didn’t.   That realization, in present time, is the most difficult to process.  There was a lot of wasted time, thinking I didn’t deserve any better than what I was getting.  It makes me sad now to think back to that time and all the anxiety I had around sex and orgasms and intimacy.  I made a lot of mistakes and put myself in some pretty stupid situations to try and prove to myself that I was a woman capable of orgasm.

The first time I think I did have an orgasm through penetration, I was high for the first time on weed and tied up with about seven neckties.  All quite consensual, although it probably was not the smartest idea I ever had.  Quite honestly, to this day I don’t know if that was an orgasm or the weed, but it felt different and good enough that I didn’t care which it was.  That guy was the first time I thought outside the box of my vanilla life.  It was the first time I started to learn that there was something else out there.  Something different, and exciting and enjoyable.  That guy?  Yeah, he turned out to be married too (I swear I was a magnet for married men or I was just too nieve to know when they are married and not smart enough to walk away).

The realization there was a different kind of sex out there that may be what I needed came slowly.

After the experiences mentioned above, I was not necessarily on a quest to meet people but I definitely had a curiosity.  Getting online can be a blessing and curse when it comes to sexual preference and the education was stunning, to say the least.  It was about that time I met the woman who would become my wife, now ex-wife.  I didn’t fall in love with her because I hated men and was bitter about sex.  I fell in love with her because she was an amazing human being with the biggest heart or anyone I had ever met.

We did everything together and were great friends.  Our connections were soulful.  I realized one day the only reason I wasn’t dating her was that she didn’t have a penis.  She was openly gay and had just ended a long term relationship with her girlfriend.  Helping her through that, I realized, even more, there was nothing different about same-sex relationships.  They are just as rewarding when they are good and just as painful when they end.

Admittedly, I thought maybe being with a woman would be more gratifying sexually.  It was gratifying and it was of course different.  It was, however, still very vanilla with her.  I didn’t connect the dots then, but eventually, it was clear that my “kinks” were bubbling to the surface.  The vanilla way of sex was not for me.   There was an in-depth gut feel about sex that made me aware I was missing something, I just didn’t know what it was.  It would take about 10 years and another failed marriage (for reasons other than our sex life) before I found what I had been subconsciously needing.  That realization, while not the first, was in fact, the most important.

I think the realization was as much a relief as it was satisfying.

Then I met him!  This really nice sweet guy at work that would do anything for me.  He mentored me when I started working with him and we bonded over our recent puppy acquisitions, and music.  The first time he sang to me, I knew I was done for.  We stayed friends for a long time.  Of course, this guy was attached, he was too perfect not to be, (but at least he wasn’t married)!

When friendship got closer to being more and our flirting and joking around about sex started with him called me a “good girl”, I knew I was in trouble.  My research had continued and I knew at this point that I enjoyed the submissive role and I also enjoyed the impact play and bondage, and holy fuck there was a list of things I wanted to try.  He was experienced.   I trusted him, and when we talked about playing I remember feeling so free and able. Just having a conversation where I could say what I wanted and what I was interested in was amazing.  Liberating me just to have the conversations was a gift he gave me and then allowing me to experience it was something I could not repay.  Not that he ever asked me to do anything but trust him.

We experienced some of the things I wanted, but not all, and then it ended on a bit of a bad note.  I will forever be grateful to him for the opportunity to explore and at the very least, find a base foundation of what I like and what I want, and more importantly what I need.  He was the first and only man I never faked an orgasm for.  He was the first and only man I never had to.

Multiple realizations

I suppose there were a lot of realizations throughout this thought process.  Interestingly, the most important to me isn’t that I found my kinks, or that I found the one guy (hopefully not the only guy) that found a way to cease my fake orgasms.  The most important realization here is that I learned it is perfectly fine to ask for what you want, say what you want and be open about what you want.  This is important because I wasted a lot of time keeping quiet about not being satisfied.

I am hopeful that I have a lot of life ahead of me.   Wasting the next 50 years being shy about telling my partners what I want, or worse, simply accepting what is given as the only thing that I deserve is not an option.  Getting a better perspective on my body and allowing my body to respond as it can and should, instead of being stifled behind by the skewed perception of myself.

Realizing this is half the battle, realizing how to make it happen is the other half.

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