The Love & Joy of Sex

Posted on April 27, 2016

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I remember, age 14, being ready to sleep with my then boyfriend, Jimmy Pratt. I was gagging for it, in fact. I’d been reading about sex in books by Judy Blume and magazines like More! But he wasn’t ready, and I had to make do with doing everything ‘but’ for the wonderful 3 months that we were together. It wasn’t long until my curiosity got the better of me though and I think I cheated on him in as part of my search for a new mate, and told him coldly one time in my efforts to be honest and true. It took 2 years to find that person, and along the way a lot of hand jobs. Some on park benches. Some in phone boxes. Often in exchange for something I wanted, like a bottle of rum.

It sounds seedy. But I was having fun. Any interactions with the male of the species, occasionally with other people involved, friends mostly, and I was in my element. I enjoyed the frivolity, the passion, the unadulterated daredevilness of the whole thing. It was fun, and it made me feel desired, in a world of stark contrasts.

Growing up wasn’t easy – when ever is it? Plus its all relative. One person’s ‘challenging times’ are just as challenging by definition of that relativity, even though on paper one example might be more harrowing than the other.

But when I was 12 I started fantasising about suicide, I felt very alone (even though I wasn’t, technically alone, and came from a loving family). Yet I was a rebel, even by then, in my own mind I rejected everyone who’s morals or behaviours I disagreed with, and in one or two cases I picked on the bullies like a unstrategic robin hood, only to end up being the one being bullied. I made friends, lost friends, was betrayed by friends and was myself, a bad friend to perhaps only the few who truly understood my pain – yet i’m proud to say they’re still my friends now. So perhaps there’s something in those early teenage bonds that often can’t be broken.

Growing up for me placed a lot of strain on feeling loved and wanted, and so I turned to sex and romance as my way of fitting in – but not to the ideals of others, my own set of values. I wanted to be the rebel, the female James Dean. I wasn’t arrogant but at times cocky. I wasn’t lost through the cracks, but at times i’m sure people gave up on me. I smoked. I swore. I was rude to the people who tried to help me. I created an image in my head of the person I wanted to be and did everything in my power to be her. It made me feel safe to move toward her – and I was proud that I could roll a joint better than anyone I knew, I loved that i’d accidentally taken heroin in a squat with a bunch of junkies, and I couldn’t wait for the day when I could live alone, drink whiskey neat from a glass like my grandfather, and smoke menthol cigarettes or weed because that was just simply what I did. It was for me, not for anyone else. Yet I had no idea how destructive this image of perfection was for me.

I spent the majority of my 20s lost in this persona, I had become her. But was she really me? Course not. And was that damaging? In many ways yes of course it was. But it then allowed me to discover who I really was, when becoming the person I wanted to be, wasn’t making me happy.

So I suppose becoming more intimate with the ‘real me’, it’s allowed me to do something else that I hadn’t realise, and that is about having loving, joyful, intimate sex with almost anyone that I want. I wasn’t connecting with the person I was having sex with on many of a previous occasion. I thought I was, but that was based on the limited knowledge within ‘me’ aka my old persona – so when I was high, on a random adventure, or with the ‘wrong’ type of person (who I might have idolised when I was younger as being ‘cool’), then I felt like I was connecting with them and the moment. But it was all bullshit.

I’m now wondering who else is going this way in life? Going round and round in circles chasing an old life. A former destination of who we wanted to be? Since I moved closer to the authentic me, the girl who actually was already kinda cool in her own unique way and didn’t need to work hard at it, is moving forward with interesting people, kind people, extremely fascinating, loving, loyal and super awesome people and i’m finding I’m free from the teenage shackles i’d imposed on myself. It’s released me from painful and at times incredibly unfulfilling sexual relationships.

I once said I thought sex was boring.

So I went to a fetish club and got spanked in a dungeon. Decided I wasn’t submissive and learned how to become a Dominatrix. Took my own submissive slaves and went to fetish dinner parties and had moresomes in sex clubs.

Things started to get more interesting for a while.

But then I realised all I wanted was romance. Good old fashioned love and joyful sex. Spiritual sex. Meaningful sex. Lovely love.

Now I get it. Whenever I want it. It’s there for the taking. Ok that probably sounds a bit c*nty, but all I mean is, it’s within me. It’s me who controls these things. Take it or leave it, of course.

I just had to fall a little, in love with myself first. And to do that, I had to find out who I really truly was.

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