So, this deserves a MINOR’S DISCLAIMER. This post is intended for mature-adult audiences and may contain detailed and/or graphic information of a sexual nature. It is not in any way intended for any child under the age of 18.
So, earlier today Bitch Cakes (who I love, and will repeat that I love her and her blog again and again because she is just so awesome and inspirational) tweeted that she missed sex. She said she missed sex more than any food and something strange came over me. It was weird. I couldn’t relate and not because food is my end all. No, not that at all. I responded to her that I wished I could miss sex but that unfortunately I had never had an experience worth missing, and as I tweeted that I became very sad. Sad, because it was unequivocally and undeniably true. Those eight words hit a nerve and I literally sat for several moments trying to negate their validity. I couldn’t.
I am 25 years old. I have had sex with 2 men. Only with one was it consensual. I had one boyfriend in high school before my husband. We’ll call him Bobby. Bobby was a pervert and only interested in one thing. It almost happened, but never did. Then I met Bobby #2 because obviously I didn’t have enough Bobby’s in my life. (For the record, though their names were not actually Bobby they both shared the same name) Bobby #2 was 29 years older than me when I was 14. Yes, that means he was 43. 2 years after I met Bobby #2 he was put in jail for over 50 counts of statutory rape, rape and other charges. Those 50 counts were only for me and my best friend who had the bad fortune of being with me. Bobby#2 was put in jail for 5 years. To this day when I hear his REAL name, I shudder. In fact, one of my favorite actor’s shares Bobby’s real name and I have to call the actor by his most popular character’s name because otherwise the freak-out factor becomes too much for me.
As those who have read my blog for any length of time have read again and again, I met my now ex husband when I was 15. We became a couple when I was 15. He was 24 soon to be 25. I thought the sun and the moon and stars revolved around him. Now, when I look back I know I was blinded by the attention he gave me and my insecure need for that attention and acceptance.
We didn’t have real sex until I was 17. We had plenty of what some might call *dry* sex – or sex with clothes on. But the transition from dry to real sex was anticlimactic and very quickly began to feel like a chore. He expected it, I gave it and then we moved on to what I thought were more enjoyable activities, like watching movies or going out to eat, going to the beach or even just watching television. There is not one sexual experience in my past that I can look back on and say, Wow that was good. Or I miss that. Or I hope I find that again. I hate that I have two daughters and I cannot look back at their conception (because I know exactly which sexual experience each was conceived by – yes, I was that repulsed that I kept track of how often so I could use excuses not to when it got to be too much)
In fact my mental image of sex is so distorted that I actually cannot fathom ever having sex again. I cannot fathom enjoying sex. It feels too primal, too out of control, too uncomfortable, and too messy. Once upon a time I thought that Bobby #2 had ruined the idea of sex for me. I guess that is part of the equation. Then I thought that if I lost all my weight surely I would be able to enjoy sex. Well even at my thinnest of 203, I did not enjoy sex with my then boyfriend soon to be husband and now ex. So, sometimes I think well if I get down to goal – if I get down to between 130-150 then surely THEN I will be able to enjoy sex. I guess we’ll just have to see. Right now I cannot fathom it.
25 years old and not one memorable sexual experience. A ten year relationship without one moment of true bonding. Not one moment of truly feeling a part and loved and wanted. Instead, I constantly felt used and then neglected.
So, now I sit here and wonder. Will I forever feel this deep revulsion at the idea of sex? Is it something within me that I will never be able to extract? Or will one day I be able to find the one person who will truly complete me and with that person surely THEN I will be able to enjoy sex. I suppose only time will tell.
If you are willing to share, do you enjoy sex regardless of your past/body image issues? And if so, do you have any wisdom to impart to me on how in the future, should the right man come along that I too might be able to enjoy one of the most beautiful gifts God has given us?
The Fat Chick