For me, one of the challenges of being an educational sex writer is fighting the temptation to offer up advice and information like some of kind of sex talkin’ know-it-all. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve been lucky to learn a lot of cool things about sex over the years and I love sharing that knowledge. But being the “sex expert” sometimes lets me avoid being vulnerable, which for many of us, is a big part of being sexual.
Sometimes people learn about what I do and think that I’m sexy sex vixen who knows all the headboard-rattling, multiple-orgasm-inducing tricks of the trade. I have to admit there’s a part of me that’s reluctant to challenge that assumption. There’s a certain cachet that comes with being sexually skilled. “Great at sex” is a pretty cool reputation to have and I’m not a gal with an abundance of cool points, so it's tempting to take what I can get.
The truth is, as much as I’ve learned about sex in formal settings like school and work, the most profound lessons have come from the honest conversations I’ve had with people who were willing to share their own experiences–even when their sex lives weren’t perfect. And I can’t be good at what I do, if I’m not willing to do the same. The truth is, I do have to work on my sexuality...sometimes very hard. I make mistakes and I’ve had sexual problems I haven’t known how to fix. All the information I’ve gathered over the years certainly helps matters a lot, but it doesn’t mean that sex is always easy for me.
Now that we’ve dispensed with the excessively long lead in, I’m ready to get personal. Needless to say, there may be a bit of TMI ahead.
Lately I’ve been re-evaluating the role masturbation plays in my life and my marriage. I assume I’m one of those people who discovered wanking as a baby, because I literally can’t remember a time when I didn’t masturbate. I also can’t remember a time when I didn’t love it. As a child, it wasn’t at all erotic–just a feels-really-good thing I did, especially when I was falling asleep. As a pre-teen I discovered the sexual connection, and while it was fun, I came to understand it more as a kind of pseudo-sex, a placeholder activity until I started having “real” sex with a dude. Over time, my attitudes changed, but recently I’ve realized that some of those early pubescent ideas have stuck with me to this day.
I’ve been a long-time advocate of masturbation as a great sexual practice whether people are in a couple or not. But it dawned on me recently that I now tended to think of sex with my husband as the central expression of my sexuality. I never stopped masturbating, but when I did it, it was usually when my husband wasn’t available or with him actively watching me, as part of foreplay.
It occurred to me that perhaps I need to make masturbation–the kind that’s just for me–more of a priority. One of the things I often tell people is that wanking is a great way to get to know your body and what it likes. Now that I’m in my late thirties, I find that my own body is changing more as it ages and my sexual response is changing with it. I love getting it on with my partner, but I also need some quality Nadine-time so I can keep up-to-date with new clitoral developments.
Beyond the practical, the truth is I still just really enjoy getting myself off. I hope it doesn’t sound totally conceited, but sometimes I turn myself on. Sometimes I want to have sex with myself, by myself. Sometimes I want that private time alone with my porn or my fantasies and really have a go at myself, without taking anyone else’s needs into consideration. For me that’s as sexy as being with my husband, but in a totally different way.
But in spite of all of these good reasons, it dawned on me that I had still developed a tendency to be kind of secretive about my masturbation. I mean, yes my husband knew I wanked and vice-versa, but I typically didn’t do it unless he was sleeping or out of the house. I’m not sure why. I think it was just a habit I developed long ago, that I never thought about breaking before. And the thing is, my husband is the most lovely, accepting person I’ve ever known. There’s really no reason I couldn’t say to him, “I’m going to spend some time with my vibrators now.” I’d just never done it before and it felt really weird to start.
So instead of diving right in, we started with a conversation. I told him all the stuff I’m telling you now. Not only was he on board, he told me that he sometimes feels the same way. We both agreed that actively telling each other when we wanted me-sex, was probably a good idea, even if it might feel super-awkward at first.
It has felt super-awkward at times. But only in that moment when we fumble for the right words as we excuse ourselves. No one ever taught me I could say “I’m going to get off!” the same way I say “I’m going to get milk!”
But then it’s really good. For all the reasons I’ve said. And because masturbating makes me feel powerful and in control of my own body. I like having control of my own arousal. Knowing I’m free to give myself an orgasm whenever the mood strikes, is really neat. As I said this is still very new, and it’s not exactly easy but my husband and I are working out the kinks (no pun intended) as we go along.
My sex life isn’t always a smooth ride. It’s been a road with twists, turns and a bunch of bumps. But that always means I’m always learning as I go, and while it can be scary, ultimately I’m happy to share some of that journey with you.
At times like this, I appreciate ads that remind me I'm not the only one with a less than perfect sex life. But enough about me. Anyone for naked yoga ?
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