There. I said it.
You might say, WTF? This is the big breakthrough you had in the Sex and Intimacy Seminar? Well, I don't know if it's the big breakthrough, but it's a breakthrough.
Here's what I got: sex is like absolutely everything else in my life. There are stories and weirdnesses around it, pressure, performance anxiety, thinks we think we know about sex, fantasies we have. Here are some examples: sex is good, sex is bad, sex is fun, some people are good at it, some are bad, men always want it, women don't always want it and so on. If you have too much sex, there's something wrong. If you never have sex, there's something wrong. And let's not forget, if you don't use it your lose it. This is in the realm of normal sex, because then there are all the so-called sexual dysfunctions, which I'm not even going to go into. But most of all, everyone is always talking about the great sex they have, or that they want more sex. Sometimes people are honest and they'll tell you they have crappy sex or that they don't like it much at all. And then you think they're weird or feel mildly sorry for them and change the subject awkwardly. You know what I'm talking about.
But all that stuff is just made up. Just like everything else we make up about everything else. Sex is just sex, and it doesn't mean anything. Nothing.
And the truth of the matter is, I'm not that interested in sex. I used to be. For a while there, after Julian and I broke up, I was downright slutty. It was awesome. It was fun, and freeing, and easy to come by. I have lots of stories.
But priorities shift. And sex, by itself, is boring. That is to say, sex by itself is not worth that much to me. It's very pleasurable, don't get me wrong, but by itself is not worth that much to me anymore. Napping, writing, doing yoga, working, hanging out with friends, watching movies or tv, traveling - all of these things are worth more to me than sex.
I've been making myself a little bent out of shape about it because, hey, it's not socially acceptable to just say I'm not interested in sex without automatically becoming an old maid, the crazy cat lady, or some such bullshit. But since I really really got tonight that all those stories are just as made up as anything else, who the hell cares?
How I've been being about it is that I pretend that I can have sex with no strings attached. Again, this was the case for a while, but that was several years ago and it no longer applies. That's my schtick: no strings attached, boys, you won't have any trouble from me. None of that emotional stuff, no demands on your time or your affections.
I've known for a while that this no longer applies, and that it no longer works. But it's been undistinguished, and so I keep getting all the sex-only propositions. My only option has been to simply say no and wonder what was up.
So what am I interested in? Living my life the way I want to live it, kitty cats and all, and when I find the guy who is worth my time (and who thinks I'm worth his, obvy), then the sex will reenter the picture. Until then, I'll be busy doing my own thing.
