Up until 12 years ago or so, I was really dissatisfied with my sex life.
I was in a long-term relationship that could easily be described as sexless. We hardly had sex, and when we did, it wasn’t that great – for either of us. We hardly talked about our sex life. I’m only guessing my partner was as frustrated as I was with it.
One day that partner challenged me to investigate the matter and really understand why I don’t enjoy sex.
I took on his challenge and decided that I should, once and for all, get to the heart of the matter. It led me on a journey that has changed my sex life – actually, my entire life – completely.
It wasn’t an immediate transformation. It was a slow process. And that long-term partner never got to reap the benefits: we broke up not long after. We never got to experience together the depth of joy from sex that I now have full access to.
The shift that happened was mainly about me embodying the understanding that sex is a natural, beautiful, loving expression of intimacy. I became more playful. I started seeing sex as an opportunity to explore and it became really profound. A joy.
I got to meet a few interesting men. Not too many. But with every new partner, my confidence grew slightly.
I became more confident in my abilities as a lover: both to give pleasure and to experience pleasure.
I felt very uncomfortable talking about sex.
Throughout these years, I was getting better at talking to the partner I was with. I could either say in words or show with my body what I enjoyed. And I felt relatively at ease asking them for feedback so I can become better. But I didn’t talk much about sex with anyone else. If the topic ever came up in a conversation, I would be as vague as I could. The most I could do was to refer friends to a book that influenced me on my journey.
I was so uncomfortable with anyone ever knowing any detail about my sex life, and I was always shocked if a friend would reveal something about their own sex life.
My embarrassment was so encompassing that 3 years ago, while I was answering questions for a dating website (you know what I’m talking about: the questionnaire that is used to find suitable matches for you) I did not answer any of the questions that asked about my sexual preferences. I simply refused with a fear that a potential match might read my answers.
Isn’t that ridiculous? I mean, I wanted to find a good match. I was happily answering questions about my political views, about my financial situation, about my family. But sex? No way. Skipped them all, one by one.
I was even still completely embarrassed when I started this blog.
I know this sounds unbelievable. I started a blog about sex and sexuality but I couldn’t tell my friends about it. For the first few months, and although I shared my stories, views, and opinions with the world – I would still blush like crazy whenever someone asked me what I’m doing with my life. And my blushing is not easily concealed… I have a fair skin, and when I blush it’s like looking at a ripe tomato. I kid you not.
But I started to write because I knew I had something important to give to the world, and I decided that, blushing or not, I want to share my experience.
When I reflect on my sex life during my 20’s, I wish someone would have told me what I am telling the world now. But the truth is, if I was simply confident around the topic of sex, that would probably be more than enough.
What I realize just very recently is that confidence is key.
See, people who feel confident in their sex lives do not feel shame or embarrassment. And that’s why it’s easy for them to explore. To constantly learn and improve – from their partner and from other resources.
People who are truly confident in their sex lives will not settle for a mediocre sex life. It is really simple for them: if their relationship is not satisfying on the sex front, they’ll simply work on it. If there’s no shame and no guilt, you can easily bring the topic up in a conversation. And you even truly enjoy the learning curve! It’s all fun and games.
Back to my 20’s and my sexless long-term relationship. When our relationship started, my confidence was probably only slightly-lower-than-average. I didn’t feel confident enough to let him know that I knew nothing. I didn’t even know what feels pleasurable for me so I read some magazines to learn how to make sex feel good. Needless to say, the magazines’ advice didn’t work. And during the course of our relationship, instead of developing my confidence – my confidence slowly declined.
I imagine that if my confidence was high enough I would not let our relationship become sexless. I believe that I would have either kept on learning (including learning how to communicate with my partner about sex, which I was really bad at at the time) or I would have ended that relationship. See, another thing that confident people have is a strong conviction that they’re worth it.
I know that I’m worth it.
Now that I know better, I know that talking about sex is mega-important.
These days, I can not imagine being with someone without being able to talk to them openly about sex. But I’m also aware that different people have different communication styles. And if there’s a strong connection between us, we’ll find the way to communicate to each other. And it doesn’t even have to start with words.
It might be embarrassing to start with. I know. I’ve only just conquered my own embarrassment. But the consequences of not saying anything? Or of not learning how to communicate and how to have a better sex life altogether?
I’m worth a relationship that has an outstanding sex life.
