Sensuality/Sexuality

I sucked at intimacy.

Within the past couple of years, my feelings have exposed me.

I used to run away or get seriously nervous if someone found me attractive. Even exploring the 'sexy' side of me, publicly or at home, made me squirm and uncomfortable in my own skin.

Was it fear of vulnerability?

Criticism of how I looked?

Or maybe a fear of shining a light so bright that I would make myself more of a target?

When it really came down to it, I had a hard time receiving love & portraying it. Even giving a hug was a struggle and I would take out my aggression and worst days on those closest and most patient.

All because I didn't develop truly into me. Because of layered on repression, fear and anxiety. But mostly I was uncomfortable with my own sexuality in all its forms. From looks to displaying emotion.

Up until 17 I had crushes on boys but nothing made those feelings stick.

I would get close, possibly developing a connection, to only back out and let the simmer get lost in a void. Not ever knowing or understanding where/why those feelings would come and go.

And with females?

Yeah, I had numerous friendships growing up and hadn't felt sexual attraction until middle school where I learned 'being gay was a choice'. Those words turned on a wave of emotion but levied up the dam by randomly stopping too and not coming back until I was 17.

I even considered being asexual. Like I knew who the right person for anybody was but the right person for me was non-existent. And those feelings of romance, tension and hot, passionate sex were definitely there but playing out in the real world almost seemed too good to be true. Maybe a bit scary.

Shows like Glee and stars like Lady Gaga made coming out of the closet nicer if not a bit cooler. I hadn't even masturbated or watched porn for the first time until that age. My mother became accepting and understood that I was changing and that maybe this was a phase but she was all for me exploring anyways.

I waited until I was 19 to tell my father. He was "disappointed", always wading between the fine line of acceptance and hate but wouldn't change a thing.

Even as I committed to the label lesbian, fluidity jumped and triggered a couple of different options. Men, non-binary, transgender; I was changing as a person.

Or maybe there's just more to me than I thought.

I mean crushes didn't feel real enough. Relationships always had blindspots. If one was more emotional, then the other was more sexual.

I always tossed and turned in secondary feelings; the what if's. Holding myself back then not. Deeply flustering and self-sabotaging over disasters of the mind I had created. So much so that my previous life was closing in on me.

I left home and flew into Los Angeles (for Entertainment reasons), a place I never thought about actually staying but just the escape I needed.

The hormones, experiences, and excitement weren't rose-colored but bleached, stained, and masked in strange, cauterized events. I describe the city as a sort of launching point leaning on the cusp of abyss and salvation.

Well, I got more than I could chew. I fell victim to Tinder.

Now that it includes background checks, the choice should've been more obvious back then. But I was naive, thinking I was in control because I had met such 'trustworthy' people before. But in part it was fate that brought me this most extreme of circumstances. At least I like to make that assumption so I don't feel too hung up :P

I don't think I will ever truly know the full truth of what happened but those 6 months became a descent into my darkest days. And what made me stay?

Well, at first I blamed the sex. Now that I knew I had a bigger sex drive than I was used to, I was beginning to understand the other piece I may have been lacking.

I had sex for 3 weeks straight, 3 times a day. Of course the person was a sex addict, but I felt special. I thought maybe it was a blessing in disguise that I could use to get over my ex. Mistake number one.

I poured my heart, soul, gave her options to help and commit to change but nothing could satisfy her. I didn't even realize that I was still traumatized by my own heartache and pain.

Just lust, sabotage, and excuses on top of abuses. Just as I thought I was gonna kick the habit, just as I thought I could begin a new routine, the person blindfolded and manipulated me to stay. Showing me that I could be bendable, easily molded into one of her fetishes that didn't cease to amaze me. But I guess that was the punchline to the story.

I didn't realize though that everything she was, I could be too. Vice versa. It was just that we both had so much hate and abuse for ourselves that we were leading unstable territory. All because I thought I was too different and that I couldn't compete with what the average girl would do anything for 'love', and that this relationship was proof of that. Even my intuition was telling me all the signs, warnings, but I fought the battleground to stay.

I didn't realize how much that experience impacted me until it became hard for me to date again. Somehow I kept attracting similar people online so much that I just stopped altogether. I couldn't trust, breathe or even speak about dating. So a Kink Dungeon was the next best thing.

And apparently I liked getting spanked, whipped, and to a degree I have fun in binds. To an extent abuse was pleasure for me and it was little uncomfortable sitting with that. I'm not going into all of the depth of what it means and points to but it was satisfying and fun and somehow was opening me up again.

Even to this day I'm navigating the waters of what excites me most in a relationship, how I can open my heart, and how to trust what is going on for me underneath the surface.

It's interesting because after experiencing the ex, I feel fetishes/kinks kind of have this way of exploiting trauma and pain on a very deep layer. Before I was embarrassed to find out if I had any. And after the whole toxicity, it seemed men were added back to my diet but nothing changed in relationships besides how I saw myself, how I handled my emotions, and attracting better people who match and support me and can take care of their own BS.

Thinking back on all of my experiences, I worried over my preference and experience a little much. I used to think having a list of names of who you fucked was a title people would carry; as in the more experience you got, the better at it you would be.

Yet, that's not the reality for everyone. Especially, since I tend to make a lot of deep relationships that connect on a very emotional level. No matter how cruel or rose colored the person was, I think my heart would reach out with the same kindness I show everyone. It leaves a space to allow them to grow, no matter if they choose to or not. Not saying that I would accept them back in any moment, but if proven true I would consider.

How has your experience with sensuality/ sexuality help you evolve or grow? Have trouble with it?? Write your story in the comments :)