Monday, 19 August 2013

Pleasure and Pain

The thing is this blog post is about sex. I don't talk about sex. I'm starting to try but its hard for me, so bear with me.

Up until this weekend I always thought I enjoyed sex. Well not disliked it. It's never really been top of my agenda, but its been ok.  I've had some good experiences. That I could count on two hands. I'm 41 and been sexually active for 20 years. That isn't good is it?

I don't enjoy sex. I always thought I did. My men often say how good I am at certain things. I get pleasure from sex pretty much the same way I do from baking....making other people happy. My own happiness doesn't come into it. And that makes me sad.

My relationships last on average for 7 years or so. And I think, although other things are at play that my failure to be able to enjoy a sexual relationship has to be a major factor.

I've learnt to block the images from my childhood. I was sexually abused from the age of 3 until around 12. In my first marriage, before I'd disclosed my past to anyone, it loomed large. My husband was pushy, demanding, and difficult. He was also tied up with his own guilt that he was a sexual person, and he wanted much more than I could give. He was a complex person and without going into detail, not today, the police were involved and I was moved to a safe house with pretty much what I could get out in an afternoon with a police escor

I've had three serious relationships since then. My first was a guy my own age, 26, who happened to be a virgin. He also had a medical condition which caused low tesosterone. We had a lovely relationship but it was more like a close friendship. When sex did happen it was lovely and undemanding.

My next was with a man 21 years my senior. Again, the sex was ok, but nothing spectacular, no experimenting nothing like that, it was adequate, and then it stopped, and then I left.

And now I find myself in a marriage where I am happy but I can't give myself fully. And I wonder what I do to fix this? I need to learn to experience pleasure and not flee from it, not close off in my bubble whilst he gets on with it. Sex should be a mutual thing shouldn't it? 

And its not fear exactly. It's a deeply held belief that sex is for the pleasure of the man.

I cannot believe I actually think that! And I'm going to set back the cause of feminism 100 years. I feel sex is something to be endured not enjoyed.

Where do I go from here?