Is the guilt ingrained?

For the best part of two weeks now, I have been incredibly horny.  Not a little horny, not a lot horny, incredibly horny.  I have had sex dreams most nights for over two weeks, I can’t control myself around my wife,  I can’t stop thinking naughty thoughts or plotting naughty scenes for various half-written stories.  I want to orgasm, I want to make my wife orgasm, then I want to do it all over again.

Not something I should be complaining about, right?  Well try and tell my brain that.  I felt a bit (mentally) off most of yesterday and last night ended up close to tears because I felt so damn guilty for being so bloody horny all the time.  I preach about women embracing their sexuality, about allowing themselves to be the sexual beings they want to be, I complain about the double standards when it comes to men and women and sex; yet there I was last night, apologising to my wife for being ‘too horny‘. Continue reading

It’s just a little crush

The past few weeks we have been going to a certain place in town, for a certain service… their prices are cheap and they do a great job (and no, it’s not a naughty place!!!!! I’m just too paranoid about someone from ‘real life’ reading this and knowing what and who I’m talking of!).

I have a problem though, whenever I think about going back there I feel intensely guilty and can’t look my wife in the eye.  Why?  It just so happens that one of the guys that works there is rather easy on the eye – on my eye(s) – and I suppose you could say I have a little bit of a crush on him. Continue reading

Sex & depression – why I feel abnormal

I knew I needed to go on anti-depressants about 18 months before I finally took the leap (well, had the breakdown) and went to the doctor (well, was dragged to the doctor) to finally ask for help.  I hate to admit it but one of the reasons I was reluctant to go on anti-depressants was due to fear they would have a bad impact on my libido.  My wife and I have always enjoyed an active sex life and I didn’t want that to disappear; I didn’t want to go from wanting sex numerous times a week to having sex once a month because I felt guilty for not wanting it AT ALL. Continue reading

Why women should masturbate – and be proud of it!

I remember the very first time I had an orgasm.  It was Boxing Day, I was in my bedroom reading the book ‘Spring Collection’ by Judith Krantz.  I came across a sex scene and the next thing I knew I was touching myself in a way that felt wrong, but ohhhhh so good.  I must have been 13 and felt very conflicted about what I had done.

I had heard about masturbation before, well mostly about guys ‘wanking off’, a term that would make me giggle and screw my face up… it was yet another gross thing boys did.  From memory I told myself it was a one-off, that I wouldn’t do it again.  A few nights later I was nearing the end of the book and remembered that scene and what it had made me feel, what it had made me do to myself.  I told myself not to flick back – but I did – and as I had done on Boxing Day, touched myself until I had what I was pretty certain was an orgasm.  I felt ashamed but at the same time… relieved… and so relaxed that I quickly fell asleep. Continue reading

Low self-esteem and crappy sex decisions

I need to print this out and put it somewhere I will see it on a regular basis...

I need to print this out and put it somewhere I will see it on a regular basis…

I posted earlier in the year about the sexually abusive relationship I was in, you can read that post here.  I know that part of the reason I allowed myself to be in that relationship for as long as I did was because of my low self-esteem issues and being convinced he was the only man who would ever find me attractive and want me.

My low-self esteem got me into other bad situations sexually – the moment a man paid me attention I would do anything to keep him happy, whether that was having a threesome with him and his friend or going home with him when I knew I had no way to get home in the morning.  I had more one night stands than I care to remember, if I am brutally honest I can’t actually remember how many I did have.  My late teens-early twenties were a blur of alcohol and one nighters, meaningless sex that made me feel good until it was over and then I felt even more worthless than I already did.

It was a horrible circle.  Attention would generally lead to sex, which would then lead to feeling good for a few hours, which would then lead to feeling worse than usual… then the following week, month, etc a man would pay me attention and I’d end up having yet another one night stand.  I couldn’t stop and looking back, I don’t think I wanted to stop.  The attention was something I craved; I liked to feel pretty, I liked to feel sexy, I liked to feel like a woman, I liked – for one night anyway – feeling as if I mattered to a man.

Sex destroyed some of my closest friendships.  I was a shitty, horrible friend for a while then.  The whole ‘chicks before dicks’ saying didn’t really mean anything to me, I needed sex.  I needed that attention, that reassurance I was just as desirable as any other woman.  I am ashamed when I think back to what I did, about the friends I hurt.  One friend was amazing enough to forgive me after I did something truly heinous (and if you are reading this, you know who you are…)… I still struggle with what I did to risk that particular friendship and really don’t know how she had it in her to forgive me.  I am pretty sure I wouldn’t have been able to.

I am a believer that sometimes our brains block out memories we don’t have the capacity to cope with.  Today I had what I like to call a mental unblockage.  Driving Miss 4 to preschool I suddenly remembered something that had happened when I was 24/25, I began shaking and found it hard to breathe, I needed to tell my wife about it before I had a complete breakdown.  Nope, I hadn’t even told my wife about the relationship in question – that tells you how bad it is – I share everything with my wifey.

As with my relationship I posted about earlier in the year, I chose to believe that this at-the-time boyfriend was just sexually adventurous, that what happened was all innocent fun.  With the benefit of hindsight I can see that he was actually grooming me for a pimp/prostitute type arrangement.  We decided one day it’d be fun to have a threesome, put an ad up on an online dating site and pretty soon after we had our third confirmed.  The night came and for whatever stupid reason I agreed it could be at my house.  Literally minutes before #3 was meant to arrive my boyfriend text to say ‘something had come up’ and he wouldn’t be able to make it, so how about I have sex with the guy then tell him allllllllll about it.  It would be kinky, he said

I had sex with the guy, I told my boyfriend all about it… we had pretty awesome sex afterward.

The following week he suggested I could do the same thing, that he would find me a guy to have sex with and then I could tell him about it afterward.  Deciding it would indeed be ‘kinky’ I agreed… I wanted to keep him happy after all.  If I wasn’t adventurous enough surely he would leave me?  I had sex with a stranger, again.  I told my boyfriend about it, again.  Before he even left to go home he suggested I do it again.  I didn’t really want to but knew I needed to be more open-minded so agreed.

Four or five times this happened.  A man would turn up on my doorstep.  We would have sex.  He would leave.

Each time I felt worse afterward.  I felt like a tramp.  I felt like a whore.

One day it occurred to me that that was essentially what I was to him.  I was his whore, he was my pimp, only there was no money exchanging hands.

That I knew of.

I broke up with him soon after my little epiphany and swore that that would be it, no more relationships that involved me doing things I was doing just to keep the man happy.  No more one nights stands, no more strangers, no more risky sex, no more risky situations.  What type of example would I be for my daughter/s in the future if I continued down that path?

Again with the benefit of hindsight, looking back I am pretty sure those little sex ‘arrangements’ weren’t as innocent as my ex made out.  In fact, I would be willing to bet he was actually making money out of it.

That end of that relationship brought with it a huge reality check.  For the first time since I had become sexually active I thought seriously about what it was that motivated me to seek out sex and to crave male attention so badly.  That period of time was full of self-reflection for me – and admittedly a lot of self-loathing – but I eventually came out the other side with a little more respect for myself and with a newfound understanding of the importance of being in control of my own self.  My dreams, my desires, my needs.

As the mother of three young girls I am going to do everything I can to make sure their self-esteem is high, that they have self-worth and know they are special, that they are important,  that they deserve only good things.  I want our daughters to grow up confident and to have  the mindset that they don’t need a man to be happy.  It might sound cliché, but I want them to love themselves.

Virginity – and why I’m nervous for our kids

I am nervous for our children… and that doesn’t just come from being a mum with an anxiety disorder.

The teenage years are horrible.  I remember them well and I know everyone reading this will remember them well.  The hormones, the pressure, the angst, the need for independence and not feeling as if you are getting enough, the decisions that you need to make about life (seriously, WHY are we expecting 17 year olds to know what they want to do with the rest of their life?!), and then there is everything sex related, but particularly the losing of one’s virginity.

I remember being a teenager and the huge deal that was made about losing the ‘big V’.  Parents and teachers were slamming home the point that you should wait until you are properly ready and that you lose it under the right circumstances.  Friends and peers brag about losing their virginity, about how awesome sex is, about what positions they’ve done it in, about how many people they have had sex with.  There is so much pressure from both sides – some of it intentional and some of it unintentional – and it makes for a hellishly confusing time. Continue reading

Unexpected curiosity, unexpected pleasure

The brain really is an amazing (crazy, silly, bizarre) thing.  Close to a couple of months ago now, I posted a blog post entitled Is it BDSM or is it abuse?, in which I shared my personal story of sexual abuse.  Potentially the most traumatising aspect of my period of abuse, was the fact I was anally raped on more than one occasion.

It makes sense that because of this, the thought of anal sex was enough to make me feel sick and to send me into a depressive cycle.  Reliving the experience would bring me to tears, it would make me shake, it would set off a full blown anxiety attack.  Anal sex.  The thought of it disgusted me and whenever I saw mention of anal being pleasurable I would frown, scoff and shake my head.  Pleasurable?  No-fucking-way.

I met my wife and told her what had happened to me when I was 20, for the first time in my life I was actually able to talk about it in person, with someone who actually cared about me, and was more than willing to listen to what I had to say.  It felt good to be able to get it out of my system, to be able to release some of the pressure I was feeling inside my head, pressure that had built up over years of keeping my mouth shut and keeping it all inside. Continue reading

Is it BDSM or is it abuse?

This blog post has been a long time coming.  What finally triggered the desire to actually go ahead and write it, was seeing this list on A Good Womans Dirty Mind today.

At 20 I was stupid enough to mistake sexual abuse for BDSM.  I was young, I was inexperienced, I was uninformed.  Sadly I am sure that I’m not the only person who has been in a situation such as the one I will go on to discuss, and it is my hope that by posting about my own experience, it will make people realise that lines can be blurred, particularly when we’re younger.

THIS is why adult sex ed is vitally important, and I wish now I had decided to do this post as part of #AdultSexEdMonth in June!  It’s not just important for adults, it’s important for young people who, while they are ‘educated’ about sex, only seem to hear about the black and white of sex.  Have sex when you are in love.   Sex without consent is rape.  Use condoms.  While all of that is important, not enough is done to educate about the blurry muddle in-between.

Nothing is said about the fact emotional/mental manipulation can be used, that people take advantage, that it often isn’t until you are deep in the middle of it you realise just how wrong the situation is.

This is my story.  Yes, it’s long, but something like this can’t be covered in a few paragraphs.

Continue reading

Cunnilingus 101: tips from a (self proclaimed) expert

One of the biggest changes when you go from having spent years in relationships with men to being in a relationship with a woman is, unsurprisingly, the lack of penis.

Let’s face it.  A penis makes sex easy.  You partake in a little foreplay, you get wet, he gets hard, he clambers on top, puts it in and BOOM, we have lift off.  After repeated in-out-in-out-in-out an orgasm or two happen, he rolls off, you go to sleep.  Sex – mission completed.

While I think sex is a lot broader in scope than simply being all about penis-in-vagina (as I explain in a previous post), it is THE most common type of sex that is had between men and women.  And rightly so, because it can feel amazing! It just isn’t as straight forward when neither of you have a penis though.

In the early days of our relationship, my wife and I enjoyed exploring different ways to give each other the sexual pleasure that prior to that had only been achieved because of the mighty penis.  We used toys, we used our fingers, we used our tongues, we used our hands, we even used our legs.  I think that for both of us, that exploration led to us learning a lot about our own bodies, in a way we probably wouldn’t have in a typical male/female relationship. Continue reading

More to girly sex than strap ons!

Since I announced oh-so-happily that I was in a relationship with (and am now married to) a woman, I cannot tell you the amount of times a discussion about sex or sexuality has led to me being asked (sometimes shyly, sometimes very curiously, always assumptively) “How many strap-ons do you own?”

The simple answer?  None.

Am I against strap-ons?  No!  I think they are a very awesome invention, and completely understand why some people (men, women, gay, straight, everything in between) rave about them; they are just something my wife and I have never felt the need to experiment with in the bedroom… or anywhere else!

Personally, I think part of the reason people presume strap-ons play a part in the sex life of all women who are in a same sex relationship, is because most people associate sex with penetration of the vagina – generally by a phallus – therefore, two women can’t have sex unless there is an artificial penis involved. Right? Continue reading