Growing up in a Catholic household I had some pre-conceived notions of what was right and wrong: Chastity, good. Temperance, also good. Masturbation, bad, and fornication, very bad.
As I’ve grown older, my ideas of morality and faith have changed alongside my body and my hormones. So it’s almost with pity that I remember the years of puberty in which I was utterly convinced that I was going to hell for touching myself to a poster of N*Sync that hung over my bed.
I have always been very in tune with my sexuality, and once I shed the guilt that every good Catholic is familiar with, I breathed a sigh of relief. I was normal; this was human and very natural, (at least that’s what Teen Cosmo said). I felt so liberal around my girlfriends, never shying away from details of my sexual experiences or balking at another’s particular inclination. I was open-minded and non-judgmental, and so proud of where I had arrived.
But while I can now walk into a sex shop without shame or embarrassment, there is another shadow of guilt that has been following me for years. We wrestle with each other, society and I, a never-ending game of ducking what others might say, or what box I might be put into: slut, bitch, whore.
The men, and woman, I have encountered in my life, what are they to me? Have they added or subtracted from who I am, or what I am worth? Society says yes, that women cannot have sex like men and expect to get away with it.
But what about what I think? That some of these affairs have left me feeling hollowed out, alone and ashamed, while others were completely liberating and exciting. They have been sleazy, lazy, rushed, worried, and sweet. They have been a veritable mixed bag of experiences and stories that have helped me learn how to love myself, and let others love me.
I am not ashamed by my candidness. I truly believe that good sex is a fundamental requirement for humans to be happy and fulfilled. It’s an itch that we are meant to scratch. Often. This does not have to mean one-night stands, or monogamous sex. I’m referring more to being in tune with those needs and acknowledging them. Realizing what you like and embracing it, whether that’s bondage, role-play or trying doggy style for the first time.
I’m also not saying this isn’t scary; opening yourself and your dirtiest thoughts to those around you, but it is amazingly freeing. I have found that sex isn’t awkward or unnerving because I know what I like, and am genuinely interested in learning what it is my partner likes.
So this week when I go to a BDSM workshop at Venus Envy, I’ll be there out of curiosity and the desire to explore something new. And when I go to a Celebration of Female Sexuality party at the aptly-named Lady Palace that Saturday, I will go to be amongst people that are wonderfully amoral because regardless of what society says, that is where I’m happiest.
