I’ve had a lot of sex in my life. Well, in the first half anyway. I was very promiscuous and not at all selective. I believed my value came from being wanted. And I was not only wanted, I knew how to make myself wanted… the “ideal girl.”
Reading a book today, a paragraph stood out that made me realise something I hadn’t realised before. I have had a lot of sex, yes, however, he wrote about an experience that he considered to be a near perfect sexual encounter. I asked Sir if He had had an experience that He considered to be near perfect, or even simply amazing, to which He replied that yes, He had had a few.
My heart dropped, and familiar tears made their way to my eyes, followed by the old gang… inadequacy, envy, sadness and defeat. As I sat there with a heavy heart, thinking about how I’d never had an encounter that I’d consider to be anywhere near being even particularly amazing, let alone near perfection, I realised something. In all of those encounters, there was one common denominator. Me.
It came to my realisation that there is a very distinct possibility that my interactions have been mediocre simply because I am a mediocre lover. Stepping away from the pity party, something became very clear…
I don’t allow myself to receive. Therefore I don’t allow others to give. My interactions with others, especially in a sexual capacity, have always been one-sided. A safety mechanism. Me as the giver, them as the receiver. Me actively avoiding any possibility of being a receiver. Receiving, to me, is a vulnerability I’ve never been prepared to allow myself to acknowledge, let alone share with another. There is power in being the one who doesn’t lose control, even if momentarily in the throes of orgasm.
So how can I possibly be a lover who will experience great sex, if I won’t even allow proper connection? If I won’t allow someone to give me the gift of satisfying me?
I have waited all my life in the hope of finding someone who would simply take it upon themselves to unlock my sexual prowess, to unleash my inner sexual goddess, to help me overcome my fears and shortcomings and insecurities. To know my body and desires, and simply pluck them from my body with unreserved entitlement. Basically… a mind reader. Because I haven’t wanted to do the work myself. I realise now that satisfaction isn’t a one-way street. We all get satisfaction from knowing we are giving our other, regardless of how they identify, what it is that nourishes their soul.
Spreading your legs doesn’t make you a great lover. Opening your heart does. I have come to realise that there are more ways to give than by simply giving. Receiving is a way of allowing others the gift of giving to us, therefore giving them the gift of being receptive to their love and kindness and care and desire to make us feel good. I see so much more clearly now why I’ve had a lifetime of mediocre sex.
I will cease making it all about me and my giving. Almost making the other feel like they’re asking so much of me. The sacrificial martyr. Ugh.
Instead I will receive with a willingness that understands that I am being given a gift, and to allow the other to give that to me.
