I’m finally having fun figuring out what love means to me… It doesn’t look like the love I see on TV, in movies or in books. It looks different from what I thought was the “correct” way to love. This whole time I’ve been trying to fit into some sort of “love box”. The “love box” contained: monogamy, marriage, kids, keeping secrets from the ones I love and fitting into their box of love and leaving what I really want and desire out because it’s not “conventional”. In opening myself up with therapy, sobriety and my writing, I can start to see a clear picture of what I want the love in my life to look like. It’s open, it’s freedom, it’s honesty and it’s a little crazy. It makes me feel excited and alive. I feel awake finally. This whole time I’ve been laying dormant waiting for some guy to pick me and bring me into his world so I don’t have to create my own.
I thought I had permanently lost my sex drive after I had my daughter. Google told me that it was common for women and some men to lose their sex drive after having kids and it can last anywhere from six to eight months. Well, for me, it lasted about two years. After that first year of caring for a newborn, I was hopeful my sex drive would return. But the lust and the hunger never came. I would once in a while have the urge to have sex or masturbate but after about a year and a half of having very little sex drive, I was worried it may never return. I know there is a lot of stress that goes into having a baby. The not sleeping, the keeping them alive, the feeding, changing and crying. For me I had a few things on top of the “new parent” experience. I was in and out of court with her dad. My life was filled with custody battles and weekly visits from Child Protective Services. It was all so draining and I felt like I was in a constant state of “going to battle” and I could never let my guard down or I would lose everyone and everything I loved.
This “battle” leaked into every other part of my life. Sex started to terrify me. The thought of getting pregnant again by someone and having to go through another court battle, it would break me. Sex was never more real for me than it was being in an abusive relationship. I never got to decide when or where we had sex. It could be at 3am when he got home from work or while driving on a highway going 80mph. Soon after I got into this relationship I got pregnant. Now my body was someone’s pleasure toy and someone’s home for the next 9 months. My body was not mine anymore. Right before I got pregnant I had a nervous breakdown and pulled a bunch of my hair out. So now I was bald, getting fatter by the minute and sober for the first time in over a decade. If I was going to have some sort of epiphany, this was the time.
I waddled and rolled into each month hidden away in a house far away from civilization. I was isolated. I was alone. And I was feeling for the first time in a very long time. My thoughts were constant. “How am I going to survive this? I can’t bring a baby into this world. This world is not mine. She will know this and she will hate me for it.” Then it hit me. I actually care about something, someone. I actually care about this little baby growing inside me. I want to love her and keep her safe. Come to find out, that little girl is me. It turns out I am capable of love. I am capable of the impossible. Love to me felt impossible. Love to me meant being taken advantage of and doing what you are told in a relationship. This is what a good girl does. They live for their family, their partner and their friends. They don’t simply live for themselves and pleasure themselves because it feels good. It’s for him. All him. This relationship made me see who I had become.
I looked around at my world and I was a caged animal. I was given minimal affection and attention and this felt safe to me. “Why does this feel safe to me?” I would wonder. There was a time I loved being a kid and running around and playing outside. There was a time I loved being me, I think. I think I’ve always felt insecure. I think I’ve always felt unloved. I came out that way. I was born unlovable is what I told myself. Being in this situation with this person who says they love me, it doesn’t feel right. Something is off. This can’t be right. I finally realize it’s time to break free of this story I’ve convinced myself of. I think it’s time I breathe the fire of an awoke woman. I deserve to be loved and pleasured. I deserve to have sex when I want and have “NO” be a good enough answer.
I was forced to ask myself what I wanted. Because in the fog of isolation, I felt it. I felt the unwavering gnawing at my insides to break free. I want to break free of this unhealthy, controlling relationship because I deserve to live a life I want to live. I deserve to be loved, truly loved. Without being told over and over again that I was unlovable, would I have ever gotten here? Maybe, maybe not. Without the constant barrage of insults, would I have ever tried to find my real self? I don’t know if I ever would have made it here without the fear. The fear that my life was being taken from me. I guess I did want my life afterall. It took some pushing and shoving into the right direction, but I got here.
Having someone control my sexual being has made me want to fight for what is mine. It has made me want to fight for all the desires and fantasies I so crave. Now I’m on a mission to find like minded people who share or are open to my ideas of what love and intimacy look like. I like to share my partner with others. I want my partner to want to share me too. Electricity shoots through my body when I see my partner with someone else. I love it. This is something I always fantasized about while having sex in my monogamous relationships. I would have to close my eyes and picture my partner with another person for me to orgasm. I love sharing. I love having multiple people in the room and we are all being and doing whatever we want. This is how I want my life to be. Open and fluid. I want my partner to be themselves completely and I want to hear them and see them for who they really are. I’m done living in the invisible “love box”. I want to experience so many different things and explore so many different bodies.
The idea of intimacy used to scare me. I was afraid every time someone looked into my eyes they would see all of my past and think that I was crazy. I was afraid of being seen as a slut or a whore because these things are bad right? Women aren’t supposed to have many casual sexual partners. I used to think this way. I learned the hard way when I was a teenager and lost my virginity. All of my classmates called me a slut because I did something I wasn’t supposed to. Well, that’s a bad example because I wasn’t actually able to make my own decision in that particular experience. I wonder if I would have preferred to be called “the girl that was raped”. Honestly, I would probably choose to be called a slut or a whore because at least with those words they give me some sort of control over the experience. A slut chooses to have many sexual partners and a whore chooses to get paid to have sex. Hm… maybe that’s why I chose to become a “slut” after being raped because I wanted control of my body again. And in order to gain control I had to live out all of my sexual desires because this is how I get back what was taken from me.
My first experience with sex paved a way for all the times after. I disconnect when I’m being intimate with someone. This is why I enjoyed alcohol so much. When I was drunk I was able to do and say things I wanted. But alcohol also made me say and do things my sober self could never even have imagined. I was in a constant state of confusion. I never knew if I actually wanted to have sex or if I felt like that was all I could offer someone. Now that I’m sober, I’m very intune with my body. There are certain times of the month where I can’t get enough sex and there are times of the month I don’t want to be touched at all. I like knowing what I feel. I like being conscious enough to make decisions for myself. Control. I have control over my body now. This is what I’ve always wanted. With gaining this perspective, I’m now able to dive deeper into what I really want. I’ve now been exploring and nurturing my sexual desires.
Just the other day I was on a “date” and I told him upfront that I didn’t want to have sex this particular night because I wanted to get to know him first. I now try to be upfront with potential hook ups because I know people aren’t mind readers. We made out a little, but he kept trying to take things further. I wrestled around in my head about what to do. I thought maybe I should just give him what he wants because he’s not going to stop until I give in. Then I quickly shut that thought down because that isn’t what I wanted. The fact that he wasn't respecting the boundaries I so clearly painted for him made me lose all interest in him completely. I told him it was getting late and I left. I left there feeling so good. I didn’t sacrifice my well being for someone else’s. This is a huge win for me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not above sleeping with someone on the first date. I do it. But only when I really want to. I listen to my body because she knows what she wants. I love her. She deserves to feel genuine pleasure.
Fuck the “love box”. I don’t want to live inside of a fucking box. I am liberated. I am free to do what I want with my body. Since I’ve allowed myself to feel all of my desires and act on them with people I feel safe, my sex drive has come back in full force. It feels different than before. It feels better. It feels real and it’s mine. My lust and my hunger are magnificent! I’m not afraid of my power anymore. I’m open and free to please whoever and whenever I want. Never again will I silence that part of myself.
I want to end this post with a poem I wrote about finding my sexual liberation:
I’m a woman, hear me roar.
I’m a slut, hear me whore.
Fuck your rules, they are a bore.
I’m not prude, you’re just rude.
Every day I get to say, whether or not I am okay.
Feel free to judge, I will not budge.
Say what you want, feel free to taunt.
I’m a woman, hear me roar.
When my body is aching, I am not faking.
My body is all mine, take a ticket and get in line.