On Beginnings

I was reflecting last night on the work I have had to do to deconstruct my own notions of healthy sexuality as a woman in 21st century United States of America. My husband and I were talking about how, despite being active members of a community that engages in ethical non-monogamy, we still see a lot of women who are simply uncomfortable embracing their sexuality in an overt way. And it got me thinking about my own journey with starting to learn how to do that. 

My mother was raised in the 60s and 70s in the Bay Area. I was raised in the 80s and 90s in a very small town in the middle of the country. Despite my mom’s best intentions—and I really do believe they were her best intentions—I ended up internalizing a lot of shame about sex and male/female relationships in particular. For example, even though my mother always said she wanted me to come to her when I was ready to have sex so she could help me do it safely, and even though she did follow through and make good on that when it happened, she also had to take a few minutes to calm herself down because her initial reaction was one of a sort of panic. 

But it’s ingrained, isn’t it? That sense of young ladies shouldn’t be engaging in sex. And even when we try to do the intellectual work of overcoming that, the message is insidious and utterly pervasive. Even beyond the confines of religions which indoctrinate a purity culture, as a society the message is that for boys and young men sex and experimentation is fun and exciting and makes them more desirable, and for young women it’s dangerous, potentially lethal even, and makes them tarnished. 

I know I’m not saying anything novel here. I do. But the fact that it isn’t novel is kind of the point – it doesn’t really matter what intentions we set for our immediate families or ourselves to overcome these dated ideas, because the message sneaks in. It always finds a way. 

I remember being about 15, sitting in a pew in the local Catholic Church, of which I was a very active member, thinking impure thoughts about a fellow congregant. With a startle I thought something along the lines of “Oh shit, doing that in church, I’m going to hell for sure.” And then more logical thoughts crept in. Weren’t we hand made by God in His image? Didn’t He give us free will? Didn’t He send His only begotten Son to absolve us proactively of our sins? Why would the new and everlasting God of the New Testament make me inherently sinful? Even if there was a test—which… what kind of abusive ass Father tests His children that way so much—that we were supposed to pass during waking hours, what about my very naughty 15 year old dreams? Why would God hand make me to be inherently sinful in a way I could not even control? 

And thus a thread to pull at presented itself. Why indeed was I made to understand sex as so sinful? Why is something so natural and so utterly critical to the continuation of the species considered bad? What, if you’ll pardon the language, the FUCK (as it were)? 

So that’s what we’re gonna break down here. How did that 15 year old, over the next ~20 years, turn into an adult that schedules sex dates with her husband and other couples? How did I overcome those ingrained thoughts, or, rather, did I even do that? Spoiler: I think it’s a lifetime’s work.