Writing About Sex

I use to write a small sex blog, that wasn’t really followed by many people. But I mostly wrote it for myself. I closed it two years ago when a sudden health problem took priority in my life.

I’m still dealing with the after affects of that problem, but I’m dealing with it and have now also realized nothing else has changed for me, my mind is still sharp and curious, I still desire sex and learning more about it and I’ve decided that denying that part of myself is foolish.

It took me way too long to discover my sexuality after trying to pretend that sex was not important to me. I even classified myself as asexual for awhile.

I grew up in a time when sex had just two purposes… pleasure for men and procreation. Women were not suppose to enjoy sex for any reason and were told to just endure for the sake of her husband and her children. Sex education for me started when I was 12 but it was nothing more than a glorified Kotex sanitary pad commercial. It taught girls about our periods and how our periods were to prepare ourselves to become mothers. Very little was said about how that happened, other than “a man’s seed was sent into the womb during sexual intercourse”, but nothing said about how that was actually accomplished. We saw a drawing that including the vagina, ovaries, Fallopian tubes and uterus. We never heard the word vulva, labia or clitoris. In fact it would be years before I even learned about those terms.

We were told to never touch ourselves or let anyone else touch us until our wedding night when we would give our virginal selves to our husbands, and then endure sex as our wifely duty. Yes, they really did say this.

Little was said about the male anatomy other than a drawing of a flaccid penis. I had come up close and personal with an erect penis three years before at the age of nine when a 15 year old male babysitter encouraged me to lick the tip of his erection in exchange for being allowed to stay up past my bedtime. I never made the connection between that and the drawing as being the same thing.

This so called sex education didn’t help me when 2 years later I was raped repeatedly for two months by a boyfriend. We were not taught to tell when it was someone we knew and was suppose to trust who was sexually abusing us, only stranger danger and being wary of someone approaching us in a park. Since I didn’t know I could tell someone plus the fact that he threatened to kill me if I did, I told no one. This was now the third time since I was three that I had been sexual assaulted by a trusted friend, although there were other instances that happened with cousins and a step grandfather,

Sex education didn’t help me in any of these events.

And while we, as women, were instructed to please our husbands, and only in the sanctity of marriage, there was never a word of enjoying sex ourselves. That was something men needed and wanted. A proper woman would deal with it, knowing her purpose was to clean house, cook dinner, have and care for children and make her husband happy, all quietly and submissively.

Growing up I heard jokes about “cumming” but I didn’t really know what that meant. The word orgasm didn’t enter my consciousness until my late teens but I still didn’t know what it meant. Even when I became sexual active by choice, thanks to women’s lib and the pill in the early 70’s, I had never experienced an orgasm. That wouldn’t happen for another 40 years before that became a reality for me. None of my sexual partners were concerned if I “came” or not, nor did any of them have the patience to make sure I did.

While fighting cancer for 6 years, sex was the last of my concerns. I decide I didn’t care anymore about it and that’s when I started describing myself as asexual. Cancer and treatment led to an extraordinary amount of medications which were probably more responsible for my lack of sex drive than anything, but I didn’t know that at the time and I really didn’t care.

When I became addicted to many of of the medications including four pain pills in high dosages, I knew I had to make some changes in my life. My cancer treatments were behind me, and it took me two years to taper down off of all of the drugs and then two weeks of intense withdrawal with the worst pain I had ever experienced. Everything hurt including anything touching my skin so I spent my days lying naked on the couch with classic rock music blaring as a distraction. I discovered quite by accident that masturbating (part of that no-no touching we had been warned about, so I had never done it) helped deal with pain and anxiety of withdrawal. And for the first time ever, I achieved an orgasm. I was blown away for several reasons.. knowing that in my 60’s my body was still sexual and how an orgasm worked much like an opioid in counteracting the pain.

Once I got past the worst of the withdrawal, and I started to feel like a human being again, I started to do research about why my sex drive came roaring back at age when most of my friends were “done with that nonsense”.

I’ll share what I learned in future posts.

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