What You Really Really Want (7 page)

It's beyond fine to be influenced by other people and institutions—it's unavoidable. But you have more choice than you may have known when it comes to how much and in what ways you're influenced. This chapter is a great start—but don't stop now. Adjust the balance levels over time, so that the sound you're getting gets closer and closer to the ideal soundtrack to accompany you on this journey to what you really really want.

CHAPTER 2

E
VERYWHERE I GO, WHENEVER I TALK ABOUT SEX AND rape and how women should have just as much right as men to pursue sexual pleasure on their own terms, I hear the same question coming from the women in the audience. It's a very sincere and urgent question, and it breaks my heart every time I hear it:
But how do I even know what I want?

That question haunts me because in an ideal world it would never even be asked. In a better world, it wouldn't be that hard to
know
what we want, sexually or otherwise. We would be able to tell by what
felt
good. (Radical idea, huh?) Just as there are forces in the world influencing how we
perceive
our sexuality, which we explored in chapter 1, these same forces can work against us in other ways, in an effort to
control
our behavior.
Sometimes it's the media, trying to sell us something. Sometimes it's our families, friends, or partners, who want us to behave in ways that make them more happy or comfortable, even if it makes us unhappy, uncomfortable, or worse. Sometimes it's a religious or political faction that believes women should be subservient to men.

Whoever it is, whatever the motives are behind their actions, the methods they use are always the same: shame, blame, and fear. They're telling us that we should be ashamed of our sexuality or that our sexual desires and actions are to blame for outcomes that aren't actually our fault (such as sexual assault) or that if we pursue what we want sexually, we'll be in danger (of getting a disease, of violence, of never finding love, you name it), so we should be wary of expressing our sexuality, or even outright afraid of it.

When you're controlled by the Terrible Trio, as I like to call the triple threat of shame, blame, and fear, bad things happen. For one, you just feel crappy about yourself—second-guessing your decisions, worrying how people see you, feeling responsible for everything—and that crappy feeling can lead to even crappier outcomes. For example, if you feel insecure about your sexuality, you often don't want to associate with your desires. You end up checking out of your body a little, like you're watching yourself in a movie. In that checked-out state, whatever sexual encounters you engage in can feel like they “just happen” to you. You might have unprotected sex because you're too afraid to admit to yourself that you want to have sex at all to speak up about using barriers. Or, if you're “just letting” someone make out with you (because you secretly
want to make out with them but you're in denial about it), you might wind up “just letting” them do sexual things with you that you really don't want as well. All of these dynamics collide to create one massive negative-feedback loop in which you feel bad about sex, which makes sex feel bad, which makes you feel even worse about it.

On the other hand, if you find ways to reject the Terrible Trio, you can create the exact opposite effect: You'll feel more connected to your sexuality, which means it will be easier for you to get your sexual needs met, which will feel great, which will make you feel even better about your sexuality.

Odds are, at some point, someone has tried to make you feel ashamed of your sexuality. Maybe someone, a parent or a classmate, said you were dressed “slutty.” Maybe you told a date you didn't want to be sexual, or even just be sexual in a particular way, and they called you “uptight” or a “prude.” Or maybe the opposite happened, and you expressed your sexuality openly and with exuberance, and you were suddenly labeled “easy.” It doesn't have to be about your behavior, either. You could feel shamed by something as simple as what arouses you. Take twenty-six-year-old Avory, for example. “My most sensitive spot is just under my armpit, which I find very, very embarrassing and often can't even admit, because it seems so nonstandard and armpits are ‘icky.'”

Often, this shame gets lodged in our bodies. We feel ashamed of how we look, or we feel ashamed of how others see
us, or we feel ashamed of what gives us physical pleasure and what doesn't.

The variations on the shame theme are endless. But shame always boils down to one thing: A person or group is projecting their moral values onto you. It doesn't even have to be directly targeted at you. Twenty-one-year-old Mag puts it best here:

When someone is making you feel ashamed about your behavior, your appearance, or anything, for that matter, the most important thing to ask yourself is: Do I agree with this person's values?

This seems like a pretty easy thing to do, but in practice it's actually pretty complex, especially when you're not in the habit of asking yourself the question in the first place, and particularly when you haven't asked yourself the corollary question: What are my personal values about sexuality?

This is a good place for me to own up to my own values around sex, but let me be the first to say: You don't have to
agree with me! The important thing is to spend the time deciding for
yourself
what you believe.

I believe that we all have the right to experience sexual pleasure. For the vast majority of us,
¹
sexuality is a central part of our humanity, a basic pleasure, like enjoying the taste of food or laughing until we cry. On a more practical level, if it makes me feel good before, during, and after; and if it involves other people and makes
them
feel good before, during, and after;
and
if everyone understands the risks involved and takes reasonable precautions to be safe, then, well, what's not to like? For example, if you and your partner both love giving and receiving oral sex, then by all means, enjoy it with abandon. It's really that simple, yet the Terrible Trio has any number of powerful ways to make you feel that it's a shameful, even disgusting, taboo.

Of course, much of this is also open to interpretation. For example, what's a “risk,” and what's “reasonable”? For that matter, what's “safe”? And how do you know if your partner is feeling good? These are valid questions, but none of them have simple answers. We'll continue to address them as we make our way through this journey together.

But remember, whether you agree or disagree with my values, what matters is that you know what your
own
values are. Once you know what you believe about sexuality, you build up an immunity to shame. How? Just do your best to act according to your beliefs. (Hint: If that seems impossible, you may want to check in with yourself to make sure your values are realistic and allow for you to be a messy, complicated person. Because we're all messy and complicated at least some of the time.)

If you know what your sexual values are and adhere to them most of the time, then it's going to be a lot harder for other people to make you feel shame.