Talking About Sex

Yesterday, while doing some spring cleaning, I came across a 1999 edition of Ms. Magazine. In big bold letters on the cover were the words: "aaahhhh, sex. Mind over Mattress?"

I don't recall reading the articles. I was probably too scared to do so. I read it yesterday and wept healing tears. Emily and I discussed the article at length. I shared, mostly, and she listened.

Sondra Zeidenstein's personal essay, "The Naked Truth: One Woman's Determined Journey To Sexual Autonomy," opened up options for me that I had begun to explore and gave me permission to explore them more seriously and even joyously.

I wish I didn't need permission. I wish that I was comfortable enough in my own skin, my own body and my own sexuality to trust my experiences and to question subconscious thoughts that sometimes rise to the surface like demons. I'm not there yet but I am on the path.

People make cracks and "jokes" about sex much of the time, but where's the truth-telling about this aspect of our lives? I want more articles like Sondra's. I have a blog. I can share what I need to hear.

What I see in mass media and what I've learned in childhood fairy tales is all about fantasy and performance and silence. Talking, really talking about sex, not boasting about it or demonizing it or invalidating childhood experiences and/or sexual abuse (verbal or physical) is an uncomfortable act for most of us.

I believe one can talk about sex in a way that's healthy and real and honest. And it still feels like risky business. I am only going to have that conversation with someone or someones I trust.

Emily and I talked about sex and so many other things long before we had sex. With her, I can share my fears, my needs, my ambivalence, my doubts, my desires and my hopes. It is with her that I've had my first real and on-going conversations about sex. The conversations aren't easy. I am capable now of a dialogue that I wasn't capable of before. I have matured. I have a loving and safe space to do that in the context of our relationship. This is a blessing from God.

I hope that one day she and I can be part of a larger community that talks about sex in real ways that breaks the silence that surrounds the patriarchal definition of sex. I've devalued my own experience in favor of this proscribed performance based, genitally focused, biology-is-destiny, orgasm-or-there's-something-wrong-with-you definition of sex.

I am healing from feeling tormented by my own sexuality. Healing from having been sexualized at a young age. At times, I have wanted to remove my sexuality from myself.

How I feel about my sexuality does not fit in some neat box all of the time. The box is too confining, even among some lesbian friends. I don't know why I might have hoped that lesbians would be better than others at talking about sex and sexuality. We came from families who didn't talk about it either and/or families who invalidated our sexuality.

I realize that my sexuality is so much larger than the feelings in my genitals. My creativity is my sexuality. It cannot be separated from who I am. My definitions of sex and sexuality are getting more closely aligned with my own experience instead of me trying to force myself into a narrow definition of sex and sexuality.

I am interested in starting a dialogue with some close friends. That feels like a safe start. Perhaps this post will lead to some face-to-face conversations. It's one thing to write about sex and sexuality. It's another to build a community of healing through truth-telling around the topic.