Issues with sex

Perhaps I have an exaggerated sense of responsibility; among other feelings after Emiel died was this definite sense that I was now no longer responsible for the happiness of one person in my life – and I felt that little bit less weighed down.  And, since I’ve started talking about the ‘unspeakable' there was also a sense of relief that I no longer had to have sex – ever again. 

Back then I believed something vaguely like ‘do the best you can with this life and what happens after you die will sort itself out’.  I knew there was life after death but I liked to believe that when I died I would leave my current life issues behind.

So in 2007 when I started hearing what AJ was teaching, it was not exactly good news!  If I accepted what I heard, I had to admit that all my past feelings regarding sex would not just go away of their own accord. I knew this was big and hoped very much that any relationship or soulmate connection would be a long way away, about the last thing I needed to deal with once all else was well sorted out.

But as ever, God does not seem to want to follow my plans, or perhaps more honestly, something within me is fighting my own rules for a comfortable existence.  Although I am currently in a relationship, for months I’ve been running away from sexual contact, aware that where I once used to ‘switch off’, I now have feelings – and they are often not pleasant.

And yesterday there was soreness and a little bleeding from the left side of my vagina and while I quickly told myself it was probably just postmenopausal dryness, I also knew that I was being nudged further towards looking at my resistance to my sexuality.

And this is so big, and there seem to be so many parts to it. Maybe I’ll make a list:

There are times when kissing is really unpleasant.  I feel like a child and I’m being swallowed up against my will, but there is also this childhood feeling that I must submit for fear of making the man angry and that the best possible outcome for me is to do anything that will minimise his anger.  

When certain parts of my body are touched by my partner, sometimes it feels good but at other times it feels disgusting and sleazy.  I judge both the man and myself.

Similarly, when I touch my partner, sometimes he feels good and at other times he feels horrible and repulsive.  Reflecting on it now, I think I feel good about it as long as I feel like a mother stroking a baby but as soon as I fear that something sexual will develop, I feel dramatically different, at least in the last little while.  I guess God is answering my prayer to start to feel again, ho hum.

And touching myself is similar. OK I suppose to ‘baby’ myself (though I’d rather read a good book!) but definitely not enjoyable to approach myself sexually.

I’m reminded of a good movie (Song for a Raggy Boy) where, among other abuse perpetrated, a boy is made to have sex with a priest.  It hurts so much and he wants to scream but his mouth is being covered.  And he feels like he is so bad, that he is the one who committed the sin.  And it makes me cry.

I’ve heard often enough that the only way to heal issues with sex is through sex, but only ‘knowing’ this as a dry fact hasn’t helped me practically.  Similarly, while I can look at my parents’ attitudes towards sexual expression and how this has affected my own thoughts and feelings, it has all been an intellectual exercise so far.  My resistance to actually feeling my own sexual discomfort is very great.

But this morning I received a nudge in what I think will be a very hopeful direction.  As I was enjoying physical closeness with my partner I recognised some resistance starting to grow in me again.  Once I would have ‘numbed out’ and continued – because that is after all part of a loving relationship – isn’t it??  More recently I have been getting up and praying to more fully feel whatever it is that is troubling me. But today it dawned on me that I didn’t need to get up at all.  Rather, just to notice how my body was telling me the story.  I could feel the stiffness and resistance in my muscles and joints before I could actually feel the resistance in my mind – and I could just allow myself to feel it.  To notice how stiff I was and allow myself to feel the fear of my barriers being breached.  Along with this I felt an emotional truth: that while there may have been a time or times in my distant past, unremembered by me but still resulting in this fear of being sexually exploited, right now I was perfectly safe.  My partner’s motives were entirely loving and I had no need at all to feel afraid or angry or to lock myself away emotionally.

And knowing that made me cry a little.  How, as humans, we all long to be held safe and warm and without fear.  How we all carry our own variety of baggage that gets in the way of this we so long for.

As it happened, we did not travel far down the sexual intimacy road this morning and I can’t tell you whether it would all have become too challenging for me had we done so.  But I count myself very lucky as having a man who wants as much as I do that I take the time I need to shed those sexual hang-ups I have.  And I feel I have the key to success. 

I’m reminded of AJ’s image of a bottle with a stopper at each end.  His image is of God being unable to fill our bottle with love if we don’t allow our emotions to flow; we need to un-stopper both ends of the bottle.  Similarly I need to unstopper my bottle to allow my past sexual fear to flow out if I now want sexual desire to flow through me.

And with a bit of luck, perhaps it won’t quite be the last emotional issue on my plate to be dealt with after all!