4 years ago by
I’ve been pacing back and forth in my studio, slowly nibbling at a salt sprinkled chocolate chip cookie that used to be the size of my head and is now the size of a mere half dollar, all in the name of procrastination of writing this piece (also, if you nibble in small, mouse sized pieces, it’s as if you ate none of it at all, right? A mouse sized piece never counts).
Anyway. I’m supposed to be writing about sex. SEX. S-E-X. SEEEEXXXXXX.
(Writing the same word in all capitals or with a trillion more unnecessary letters is a great form of procrastination, if you’re in the procrastination market.)
When we decided February was going to be Sex Month on the site I was thrilled about a lot of things, but mostly thrilled about writing this piece. A blank page for me to wax and wane about my thoughts on sex?! Sign me the hell up. I’m a scorpio, the only thing I love more than talking about astrology is talking about sex (as seen here).
And now, here I am, looking like a kid on a school yard blacktop trying desperately to nail the timing to jump in on a jump rope game of double dutch. Terrified I’ll either get hurt or make a fool of myself in front of the cool kids.
Come to think of it, sex itself is a lot like double dutch.
You try so hard to determine when you should jump in and then when you do, it’s all floundering and stumbling. But then, ahhhhh, you get into a rhythm, you understand the timing, the dance, and how to make it all sing — and it becomes exhilarating, your feet are flying on the black top, you’re exhausted but you don’t want to stop. It feels like flying.
At the end of the day, sex is the most intimate act we can perform with another person with the most drastic consequences (hello babies, trauma, STDs, the list goes on…), and yet we still stumble around (or downright ignore) procuring the words to talk about both the euphoria and awkwardness that can come with sex. Which is why I wanted to dedicate a whole month to sex, to give us the ample space and attention for a discussion about something we all participate in, but rarely discuss.
I mean, we can quickly rattle off our specific coffee order (“I’d like an extra foam, half soy, decaf cappuccino”), but we can’t articulate how we like our sex. What if we treated sex like ordering a cappuccino? “Today I’d like an extra foreplay, no talking, nap afterwards session, please and thank you.” What are we afraid of? Getting better sex from our partners?
Of course I know what we’re actually afraid of…rejection after showing vulnerability.
Which brings me to something that is often overlooked when talking about sex — how damn brave we are to even dip our toe into the pond.
So, before we even begin our month talking about sex, I want to congratulate you for being brave, for being vulnerable, and above everything else, for being human.
Alors parlez en ,faites le avec élégance et poésie , ne tombez pas dans la vulgarité .
C’est difficile . L’auteur américain Philippe Roth en parle merveilleusement par exemple ,
beaucoup aimé : la bête qui meurt
Chez les femmes ? pas de souvenir brûlant , il y a bien quelqu’un pour nous le dire dans les commentaires !
C’est un cadeau, trop rare et est bien curieux che la massima intimità dia luogo poi, una volta sparita l’intesa, anche unilateralmente e dunque con una parte della coppia che soffre, si generi la massima estraneità. Dunque preferisco l’amicizia!!!
I have to admit that I am really tired of talking about sex. I’m not sure that the constant public conversations about it have actually been that helpful; in my experience they’ve often made people–men and women–feel that they are “doing it wrong” and must up their game somehow. I’d like it to be a more private conversation between the 2 (or more) people actually having it. The internet has not, on the whole, been a good thing for sex.
I’m not a prude, just almost 60 yrs old and have been through many iterations of this conversation. Enough. Sex is just one part of your life and not the most important part. However you “do it” is ok. And it’s ok to be private about it too.
Sex is healthy and I don’t understand the taboo. We have sex for so many reasons (hopefully is healthy joyful bonding) and I celebrate sex month all 12 months of the year, quite happily and even more so as I age (early 40s). Lovely article!
Having the best sex of my life now at 48
It’s a tiny bit hilarious to include a little bit of that scene from Grease in the opening – since it’s an entire song where a guy lies about getting a lot of sex.
Unpacking that song alone could get you deep into the concepts of slut shaming and toxic masculinity.