I find it interesting how many people I hear talking about their sexuality and sexual interests, the way they describe things that turn them on as “dirty” and “freaky” and “nasty” and “perverted.”
As far as I can see, the fact that the things that arouse them are not “mainstream” — or at least are not openly acknowledged as normative — is a significant part of the appeal for a lot of people. That they feel they are being transgressive is much of the point, and the source of most of the erotic value in these acts.
But it doesn’t make any sense to me. I mean, sure, I can acknowledge it on an intellectual level, but I don’t understand. I personally am turned on by a whole lot of things that are not particularly “standard,” by things which are certainly not the socially accepted, normative, typical-script sex stuff… but I don’t see any of it as “nasty” or “wrong.” If there’s one thing I know with absolute certainly, having come of age in a world where it is so easy to digitally connect with people across the globe, it’s that nothing — absolutely nothing — is unique to me alone. “If it exists, there is porn of it,” otherwise known as “Rule #34,” is a relatively concise was of expressing much the same thing. Hell, just spending a bit of time lurking in /b/ will do wonders for showing you the sheer variety of things that people find sexually appealing! And yes, I used to. Not my scene anymore, but mostly because I’ve found other places to more effectively address many of my interests…
So, I know that I’m not alone in my sexual interests, varied as they are. And I have learned very well that I don’t need to fear my sexuality — I had a pretty effective crash-course in that one, mostly as part-and-parcel of unlearning the shame and stigma instilled in me from a Mormon upbringing. And I know that I feel better when I’m comfortable with who I am in any respect; shame about who and what I am is never anything but damaging to my overall well-being.
With all that in mind, I have made some conscious shifts in my vocabulary to better reflect my relationship to sex. I avoid references to body parts that carry a negative connotation — I don’t have “junk” between my legs, thanks, my cock is quite a treasure! When I’m fucking, I’m not “doing the nasty” and there’s nothing I could call “getting down and dirty” about eating out a partner’s ass (unless they haven’t washed there recently, in which case I might help them wash up as part of our play!) Wanting to be tied up or locked up by someone who cares for me, and then whipped, flogged, pounded and penetrated with toys or hands or other bits of flesh (or all of the above) doesn’t make me a “freak in the bedroom,” it makes me a woman who enjoys some particular things on some occasions, and other things at other times.
As I mentioned in a recent post, I don’t need to feel ashamed of who I am or what gets me off. Plenty of things do, and I’m okay with that. I’m much happier being okay with it than trying to convince myself that I’m supposed to enjoy getting off more because “they” don’t want me to, because it’s somehow forbidden and therefore better.
And when my approach to life is to “seek pleasure first and foremost” and constantly evaluate what there is to gain and what harm there is in things as I go, it’s foolish to deny myself pleasure because somebody else thinks it might not be “normal,” because somebody else says it’s always bad, can’t possibly be sexy, has to be “dirty” and “wrong.” When my own lived experience says otherwise, why should I trust anyone else’s judgement on the matter? If it makes me happy… it can’t be that bad!