I’ve got a lot on my chest that I want to release before I possibly die on Monday (I likely won’t actually die; I might just be drugged out of my mind. I’m more lucid now so I’m doing it now). Because life is short and you are hot.
In all seriousness, this is a subject about which I’m very passionate. I’ve been writing about it for 15 years and I’ll be writing about it until I die. Because I want it be better.
Ok, so you might think I’d be the last person to advocate for more widespread sexual pleasure. Having been the plaything of more people than I can even remember, and then been with several people voluntarily, and then just being as generally weird as I am has definitely made me an expert on most things sexual. I’m the kind of person that asks questions even the kink community has never considered.
I grew up in a time where people still left porn magazines laying around. That and the stupid things other kids said was my initial introduction to all things sexual. The second I looked remotely like a woman I became the human Fleshlight for any dick within a 15 mile radius. It’s not too difficult to see why I don’t much like my old city.
Anyway, but I didn’t lose my mind. Or at least not in a way that left me impotent for dealing with reality. No, around the same time that people started treating me like a human napkin I was growing bigger on the inside. I was 11 or 12 when I took my life into my own hands, understanding that I was fully alone in my experiences. I was the only one who was going to save me. I turned myself inwards and created universes. I studied and learned. Sex was one of those things.
I never just took someone’s word for it; I found out for myself. And unlike most people I didn’t need life to hit me over the head first. Life did kick my ass but it was never because I hadn’t learned something. It wasn’t because I was naive or ignorant or “a stupid teenager” as people like to say. No, the situations life brought to me are the sorts of things that have driven adults to suicide and/or insanity. Yet most people have never and will never understand that. Because people like me aren’t supposed to exist. Most people have never heard of half the things I am or have. I’m still pretty much invisible.
Thankfully, I learned to exist in the only way I could; I made myself room. The wider world has no room for me and so I created my own spaces. And in those spaces I discovered, built, and demanded better. I didn’t treat my friends or lovers like shit. I wasn’t (and still don’t get) jealous. I was always upfront and honest with the people closest to me unless I was bound by secrecy or safety. I didn’t start any drama and never got sucked into any. I was usually the observer. That’s because the only people who saw me were either freaks like me or hunters.
Anyway, so my voluntary sex life mostly consisted of being a teacher to others. When I wanted to have sex I was (and am) alive and vibrant and sensuous. Advice that they give out to couples or polyfolk nowadays I’ve been doing and writing about for 15 damn years. As I grew older and invented my own unique consent culture and sexual liberation I found myself eternally disappointed in the world around me. Rape was terrible enough but then I was learning that most people in general suck at or don’t enjoy sex. As much as we are obsessed with the act the human race has surely fucked it up for most of our history.
I’ll just come right out and say it:
That is fucking pathetic.
For someone like me with a large sex drive and a huge mental appetite for knowledge I’m constantly looking for content, especially surrounding one of my favorite topics: sex. I’ve read a shitload of erotica, I’ve seen a lot of different kinds of porn, I’ve studied all of the interdisciplinary material and studied each sexual subculture. Many times I end up wanting to laugh and cry. How can so many people get something so fundamental and powerful so wrong? How can it still suck so much when there’s better information available? How can people know so little about their bodies and be so out of touch? Why would they remain so uneducated about something so vital to their lives?
There is not nearly enough education about healthy sexuality period. Not enough about asexuals. Not nearly enough on agendered, genderqueer, androgynous, intersex, and others on the transgendered spectrum. Almost nothing exists for aromantic and individualistic folks. People can’t separate flirting from physiology from desire from touch from love from action. We’re given inadequate, conflicting, and contradictory information according to whatever sex they think we were at birth and sent off as adults to randomly hook up with anyone with seemingly opposite (but never taught to be complementary) parts.
People know nothing of STIs, incest, kink, and intersexed people beyond their initial disgusted response. Even people that are supposed to be supporters of reason, beacons of freethinking, skeptics of all clam up and duck their heads when it comes to relationships, sex, and sexuality. People are bumbling around, fumbling around, destroying each other’s boundaries, and fucking themselves over (and not in a good way) over nothing. Because we’ve been taught to be disgusted by sex. Because we’ve been taught it’s shameful and nasty and twisted. Because we’ve been taught that men are, at worst, monsters and, at best, incompetent. Because any woman that enjoys sex is a whore. And because a whore is automatically a horrible, terrible thing to be.
Again, I laugh and cry.
People talk about creating a culture of consent. That can’t happen without better, comprehensive, and integrated education. People want to preserve ignorance by claiming it’s the same thing as innocence. People have learned to take each other for granted. The truth is when it comes to love and sex many people are still slaves to one another (in a nonconsensual way). That’s not ok.
I often wondered why it is that my ten-year relationship with my life partner never encountered the usual relationship rollercoaster, why our passion for each other grew over time instead of diminished, and why our sex life has been fucking fantastic (the only times I haven’t been satisfied are when my body just shuts down in total pain and agony, not from anything he and I do or don’t do). We don’t yell, we don’t get bored of one another, we don’t control one another, and aren’t on any sort of escalator (beyond that which is necessary to raise our child). From day one we’ve been open, honest, and have never taken one another for granted. We are not romantic; we are extremely passionate fucking friends. We are not a couple; we are traveling on similar paths, likely until one of us dies, whether that continues to include sex that endlessly manages to top the best we’d each ever had before or not.
I’m not saying this to brag; I have been genuinely puzzled by it. Statistically, as a rape survivor I shouldn’t be experiencing so much joy. I shouldn’t have been able to form any sort of healthy relationship, let alone with a man or with multiple people. I should be constantly stressed-out and still trying to kill myself. I shouldn’t be so empowered, basically.
I shouldn’t be whole.
And I realize…
Eureka! That’s fucking it!
I may have cracked when I was younger but I never broke. At least I never gave anyone else the power to break me. Going crazy, accepting less than I deserved, letting other people’s voices drown out my own was always a choice I never saw as a choice. I could not and would not give in. Ever. I wrote my sexy stories about nonnormative people with nonnormative love (or no love) in nonnormative situations. Or, to put it simply, I write about individuals with individual tastes in their own unique situations and experiences. I dared to give my characters agency and unique sexual tastes and sexual knowledge. I had them eat from The Tree of Life rather than The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil has done nothing but separate us. It’s divided people into arbitrary categories and so many have forgotten that we are all human first and foremost. We sit here drawing lines in the sand to divide up the beach we landed on instead of exploring the continent before us.
Humans thrive on voluntary and informed consent. Humans seek out knowledge and figure out how things work. Humans don’t shrink to the level of their emotions; they realize that they are greater than them and let them be. Humans don’t confuse their instincts for rationality. Humans don’t treat each other like shit. They don’t let others get away with treating someone like shit (unless it’s a voluntary kink following the safe, sane, and consensual standard). They don’t take one another, or anything, for granted. Humans pay attention.
Humans have integrity.
Humans have better sex lives, even if that means not having sex at all, with anyone, ever. We can fucking do better. We can literally do fucking better.
I want to show that it’s possible. I want people to know that it doesn’t have to suck and it doesn’t have to take half of your life to figure out what the hell you are and what you want. I want people to see the myriad, crazy, and unlimited possibilities of all the ways we can connect. I want people to stop enslaving themselves to others because they think that that’s affection or love. That sort of blind devotion and abdication of control is what allows abuse and misery to thrive and become the long-term norm instead of the brief rarity it should be. We sit here laughing and nodding along while our entertainment feeds us bullshit about love, sex, and gender like that’s the only way it can be.
We’re creating the world every single day. Atoms are popping in and out of existence. The universe is spanning and yawning apart and unknown infinities are spinning into eternity. And people sit here and take each other and themselves for granted.
What do you want to create? What do you want to see in your entertainment? If you’re fine with the status quo, fantastic! But I’ve always wanted better. I’ve been working to create better. I’ve had better. And I won’t stop until I have even better than that.
What can I say; I’m insatiable. What about you?