It has taken me a couple of days to get up the nerve to write a personal story. Today is the day I begin opening up and challenge myself to be comfortable in my own sexuality. However uncomfortable or scary this may be for me, I find it to be unavoidable. I am seeking a PhD. In human sexuality – I’d fucking better be ecstatic about who I am; I’d better be able to give advice that I have taken; I’d better not be a hypocrite. So, thus begins my public journey through my sexual past. . .
Throughout my years growing up I remember learning about sexuality from my peers, family, school (Christian), and church. By the time I was 12 I remember feeling guilty for masturbating . . . not that it stopped me, I just felt bad for doing it. I had committed myself to a pledge of purity – which I fully believed was the best way to approach my future marriage and sex life. For the next few years my hairbrush, pillow, and I continued our ménage trios until I had my first real boyfriend. It was here, at 15 that I first learned about something I hadn’t counted on – desire. There was something so natural and primal about passionately kissing and groping that I found myself beginning to question what I had been taught about sex, love, and STD’s. After months of lust, I succumbed and stumbled my way into womanhood. :) I still have to stop and giggle at how ridiculously awkward virgin sex is . . . I must say, not exactly the wedding night sex I had always dreamed about. I loved sex. It was fantastic and fun, exhilarating and calming, carnal and intimate but more than anything, it felt natural. This feeling shocked me. After learning what I thought was “all about” sex, it had never even occurred to me that premarital sex could feel natural.
Several years go by as I deliberate the topic of my sexuality. I had several more boyfriends and dozens of flirtations but stuck fast by the side of my trusty hairbrush. It was at this crossroad that I met the man who would one day be my husband. We had tons of crazy, wild, backseat sex. Sparks flew and nothing could stop them . . . well, that is after I accidentally started dating him. We had dated and broken up but I felt so sorry for the guy that I continued to hang out with him. As we all know, mixing teenage hormones with love triangles is always a recipe for sex. After his best friend and I went out and I was propositioned for oral sex (which of course, the good girl I was, I turned down), the intensity of his pursuit of me increased. We had a fantastic sex life . . . I was utterly content to be vanilla and had no idea there were any other options available. After several months of sex I found myself just out of high school and knocked up. After a whirlwind 9 months I was a mother and a wife . . . and just 18. As I matured into adulthood and became more sexually experienced (and birthed 2 more children), I began to learn and fantasize about more intense things. I wanted to have sex with a girl. I wanted to watch my husband have sex with someone else. I wanted to try out different men. I wanted to know what it felt like to be gang banged by black men or tied up and assaulted by a dominatrix. I was ready to explore and curious. Eventually (and with ridiculous amounts of drama), my husband brought a girl home from work. I don’t think I have drunk so much any other day in my life! I was so nervous and excited and angry and turned on . . . ok, ok, I was just really confused! Then, she kissed me. It was almost like the world stopped spinning for a few moments. She was so soft. She smelled perfect. It seemed to me as if a whole new world of sexual possibilities had been unearthed and I couldn’t wait to explore them. We spent only a couple of months together, sneaking away to fuck, both too embarrassed to admit to our bisexuality in real life but too passionate for each other to stay apart. She moved suddenly. Our goodbye was absurdly emotional and difficult but filled with some of the most amazing sex I have ever experienced. I still feel a twinge of sadness and a lump in my throat when I talk about her. She changed me forever but I will never be able to tell her that. Because of her I am open to new experiences and I began learning to give fantasies a try, even when they make me anxious. It was at this juncture that everything in my life began to change, or I felt – unravel.