I hate getting turned down for sex. I know I’ve already written a post about “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” but I have to do it again, because I love that saying. I take it to mean the female ego cannot stand sexual rejection. If accurate, it is SO true.
I don’t know why it is, but I think it has something to do with our culture telling us women’s value is primarily in their sexuality… and if they aren’t charging a high price for their sex, they aren’t worth much. So when we put “free” sex on the table, and we’re still turned down, we are totally deflated and humiliated.
After five years with Brad, I’d sort of gotten used to sexual rejection. It had become sort of an inside joke, that I was always throwing myself at him. He’d say “hmm…” like he was considering my offer, and then smirk and say “no thanks,” and get back to whatever he was doing. Occasionally, the reminder that I didn’t excite him stung. It made me feel unattractive and undesirable.
But when we opened up our relationship, it started making sense. Despite – or perhaps because of – a deep, familial love for one another, neither of us was dying to rip the other’s clothes off. But little did either of us admit for the longest time, we both wanted to rip someone’s clothes off… pretty much anyone but each other’s.
The sad thing is, four months into my sexual relationship with Ben, we’re entering the same phase. I don’t get rejected by Ben as often as I do by Brad – as our relationship is not as old and we have no financial entanglements (baggage) – but the honeymoon phase is definitely over.
I’m not sure where to go from here. On the one hand, my life is too full as it is. I can barely devote the time and attention I’d like to to each of my current “family” members. But on the other hand, neither of them seem to be sexually available to me as often or as long as I’d like them to be.
Ben and I are already slowing down into the once-maybe-twice-a-week-or-so phase Brad and I were stuck in for so many years. It’s neither of their faults, and that it’s happening with Ben now, only reminds me it was never Brad’s fault all those years. I’m sure both of them would prefer to have sex more often too if given the chance for no-strings-attached, uncomplicated sexual novelty, but it’s never that easy in our complex, modern, monogamous world.
So we all suffer in silence – well, except me. I just bitch and complain about it here.
I guess I just want what Gracie X said she wanted when she opened up her 20-year marriage – “sex as a daily meditation.” Maybe not EVERY day, but pretty close. Instead of exercise or yoga, I want sex.
I want it to last for close to an hour – and no men, 10 minutes is not an hour. It doesn’t have to be sex the WHOLE time. It can be foreplay, sex and then just lying intertwined for a while. But I’d like to set aside at least 3-4 hours a week for it. I mean seriously, some people spend more time in the gym than that. What sounds more fun?
And I want to really start experimenting with it. As Osho said, I want to go deeper and deeper into it. I want to see how long an orgasm can last. I want to see what levels of consciousness it can take me to. I want to explore my sexuality until I’ve had my fill. Until it becomes boring and I can move on to celibacy or nirvana. I don’t know. But I want more.
People can call me a freak or a sex addict or whatever. I don’t care. I’m sure there are a lot of people who want the same thing, they’re just too embarrassed to admit it, or too overworked and stressed to even notice.
I’m going to keep pursuing the world’s longest, most enlightening orgasm. I’ll let you know what happens when I find it.
Related: The Myth of the Coy Female