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I realize that many of you reading this are doing so based solely on the fact that the word 'sex' is in the title. I also realize that upon reading this sentence, many of you will inevitably scroll beyond this post because this won't provide you with any information regarding my sexual fantasies, sexual exploits or experiences or anything else of that nature. Now that I've cleared the air, I'll briefly tell you what this is about: namely, sexual stigma/taboo, the hackneyed notion that sex is to be something that is engaged in solely between two married individuals (specifically one man and one woman) explicitly for procreation and not recreation, and of sexuality in general. Please note that the following will be my own personal views on the matter and I am not seeking approval or endorsement of any kind. I do however, welcome comments and am willing to discuss any or all of what I'm about to share with you civilly. In fact, I encourage discussion and debate if you are so inclined, because I believe that these are points that deserve to be addressed and discussed openly.
First, a brief history regarding my personal views and the reason I'm writing this blog. I make it no secret that as a child, I'd been raped by family members and from a very early age, I'd come to associate sex with pain, guilt, shame, violence and evil. As a result of being exposed to "sex" at such an early age, I found myself being sexually awakened very early on in my development. Granted, I didn't feel particularly proud of these feelings, nor did I understand them. Mostly, I think that I just wanted to emulate much of what I'd been exposed to by way of my stepbrother and by the copious amounts of porn that I was made to watch. However, I had the presence of mind, even at the age of seven, never to act upon my impulses and that consent is a sacred thing; I would never force myself on someone then or now, being well aware of the consequences of my own abuse.
The first time that I had consensual sex with a woman whom I deeply loved, it was both exciting and terrifying. I really didn't know what I was doing. Sure, I knew the mechanics and I was totally in love with her at the time. But, I didn't have an ounce of experience. I hadn't even had an orgasm at that time. It was so uncomfortable and awkward for me. Then, there was the guilt and shame of my past creeping over me; I felt that somehow, she knew what had happened to me and that she'd not want anything to do with me. Paranoia at its finest.
Over time, I'd gotten better at it. More confident. More comfortable. But eventually, it became routine as though we were doing everything by rote. It was not very satisfying for me, but she seemed to enjoy herself, so I kept doing it. I was too bashful to tell her or explain that I wasn't really into it as she was and that, perhaps, I was wanting something more, or at least, different. One source of my timidity was her. She was not the type of person to share personal issues and stories with. Also, I was aware that she'd been taking advantage of me, of my understanding, compassion, naivete and my unwavering need to please. Perhaps. I'll share more about her in another blog someday.
But, my experience with her led me to believe that sex was, once again, something to be ashamed of and overall uncomfortable and negative.
When we split, it was devastating to me, and I started down a very dark path toward self destruction. In the months that followed, I found myself in a situation where I was living as a live-in sex object with a married couple whom I'd known for years, which further made my opinions on the subject of sex pretty low.
After that, I was sexually assaulted in the shower of the City Union Mission, where I was staying at the time. Then, I was sent to the psychiatric hospital for 96 hours, which became a full 8 months.
While I was there, I eventually opened up to a psychology student about what had happened to me. I really connected with her. For one thing, she was my age; so there was no generation gap between us. Another thing that that i found disarming about her was that she, as a student, especially an open-minded one with no pre-established method to treat her clients, she had a unique, perhaps naive approach that I really am at a loss to define or describe to you. However, as a result of being seen by her in the hospital for the two months that she'd been assigned to me, I was diagnosed with gender dysphoria disorder. That answered so many questions that I'd had echoing in my mind my whole life.
Once that was out in the open, she began to help me to take on my reservations, fears and discomfort surrounding the subject of sex. We didn't have nearly enough time to tackle the really heavy stuff regarding the abuse and the exploitation. She recognized this. So, instead what she did was to spark an interest in sexology. She'd even brought in some materials, albeit slightly dated, on the subject. Journals and an old text book, namely.
When I began reading them, admittedly indignantly at first, a fascination with sex and the study thereof. Once I was discharged to a group home, I'd spend my afternoons at the library doing research on the subject, delving deeper into the study human sexuality and as I did, I couldn't help applying my knowledge to my own life and my own experiences, when I stumbled upon the subject of sexual surrogacy.
For those who don't know, sexual surrogacy is a highly controversial practice whereby specialized therapists along with a sexual surrogate give detailed one-on-one training to clients on sex. It goes far beyond having sex with said clients, covering a variety of subjects from contraception, to romance and intimacy, to sexual dysfunction, to foreplay and beyond. Ultimately, sex acts (between two consenting adults) are explored and practiced. The idea being to demystify, destigmatize and to offer experience to clients who otherwise don't have it, or who've had such poor experiences for one reason or another that they've developed a fear or phobia of sex and intimacy in a safe, controlled environment in the few places where it's legalized.
The practice is quite controversial. There are many people who equate sexual surrogates and the therapists who employ them to pimps and prostitutes. To compound the issue further, many people are opposed to sex education outside the home, and the stigma surrounding people who have sex before marriage creates an environment of secrecy, shame, guilt, rebellion and ignorance surrounding sexuality. As a result, many are quick to judge and dismiss sexual surrogacy as reckless, irresponsible, immoral, even criminal.
I, however, am able to see the virtue in sexual surrogacy. From my perspective, it is doing a great service for those who are inexperienced, inept, who are not knowledgeable about the nuances of sex, and to those who regard sex and their own sexuality with fear and shame. For myself who is both transgender and pansexual and who is a survivor of sexual abuse and exploitation, I can see where, had I been able to utilize the services of sexual surrogacy therapy in my early twenties. I'd undoubtedly have been spared much agony and have learned so much about myself far sooner.
I've got a friend. He's a guy whom I've met through a mutual friend with whom he was in a relationship. After they'd broken up, this friend had eventually met someone new. The friend I'm speaking of identifies bisexual (our mutual friend was his first and so far, only boyfriend) and he's dating his girlfriend, who thinks the world of him, but who is bi-curious, or quite possibly, pansexual. Over the course of the this autumn, I've come to know her quite well and I've become something of her mentor. I'm a mentor to them both, actually. They both are leading very sheltered lives and as young adults, who've been repressed so much, they've come to me for guidance on a great many subjects ranging from transitioning from late-teenagers to adults with adult responsibilities, to basic sexuality, intimacy and being in an LGBT relationship (in the sense that they're both bisexual) in a part of the country where it is largely seen as obscene and taboo.
A deep trust has been forged between us and they know that they can come to me with anything and I'll do my best to guide and educate them, and they know that I'll not mislead them. If there's something that I don't know or am unsure of, I'll educate myself thoroughly on the subject first before offering them any insight of information.
One interesting outcome of this experience has been the fact that, during our correspondence with one another (we've never met face-to-face, though we live maybe fifteen minutes from each other), is that she has developed a certain fondness for me. I'm the only transwoman she knows. She feels safe and comfortable in discussing with me her sexuality and, in fact, I was the first person she'd come out to. And, I'm the only female role model in her life.
Her trust of me and affection for me, developed into an amorous infatuation. This resulted in a range of emotions, especially fear of perceived infidelity and self-stigma regarding her feelings for me, a transwoman, while in a committed relationship with her boyfriend and while constantly being fed notions that open relationships are not only bad, but taboo or sinful.
She's explained to me on many occasions her feelings about me. Her explicit trust in me. Her desire. I encouraged her to share these thoughts and feelings with her boyfriend. I was with her every step of the way as a moderator. Eventually, an open dialog began, where I, from a distance, began to coach them on the subjects of intimacy, commitment, being bisexual in a "straight" relationship and many other things. This open, candid dialog had eventually opened up a different can of worms. One that was both unexpected and maybe a little flattering. They both, independent of one another brought up the proposition of, what I can only describe as a sort of sexual surrogacy relationship with me.
This, again, is why I believe that sexual surrogates and sexual surrogacy is a positive and a good thing. When people are young (but of legal age of consent) and when they're either bi-curious or bisexual, sexual surrogacy is, in my opinion, a viable, safe resource or outlet for those who are wanting to experiment, but who lack the education and experience to do so safely. Both of these friends of mine feel so lost, frustrated, inadequate and confused by their own sexuality and desires, especially living in an area, which treats the LGBT community with hostility, that to have such an outlet in a controlled, safe environment would greatly help to demystify their own feelings.
I've not volunteered my services to them in such a context. There are many reasons for that, which I'll keep to myself, though it's not to do with my opinion of them as people so much as it has to do with a personal boundary I've set up. Fortunately, they understand and we're still very good friends. We do speak candidly about sexuality, among a great many other things from the weather to the local jazz scene.
I do however, wish that there was some way, some place for them to explore their own sexuality in a safe, healthy way, free of judgement and stigma. They're still young and their is still loads of time for them to find themselves. Fortunately, neither of them has suffered any abuse (apart from perhaps living with rigid, borderline homophobic parents), so that is one obstacle they'll not have to overcome. However, I can't help but feel for them. To me, they are prime candidates for sexual surrogacy therapy. And, I was too.
