After running out of that house drunk, scared, and feeling horribly disgusted with myself, I realized I left my glasses on the night stand. Walking back into that house was a massive slap in the face of where I had been. Emotionally, I had somehow agreed to give something away: Safety and security.
I grew up with this interpretation, a type of perceived pressure. Thinking that I need to perform to keep another’s attention, helped me stay trapped. I was using sex in two ways:
1. Using sex to make someone responsible for my sense of safety and security.
Someone lays on top of us, covering us with their body and vulnerability. In this moment it is very easy to hand over an important responsibility. We undergo an emotional transaction that makes our sexual partner responsible for making us feel protected and to produce the longevity we need to feel secure.
After sex, they have no idea what they hold, what kind of pressure their under. We demand of them signs of their continual devotion it our needs.
2. Using sex as a way to trap myself in the role of Cinderella.
Needing someone to create our security is evidence of an underlying script for self: “I am only worth how people define me.” In this context we put up with sex that feels harmful, uncomfortable, or violates our boundaries.
When sex is used to feel worthwhile we prioritize feeling special more than the pain, shame, and disgust that comes when we’ve used our bodies inappropriately. Holding up a healthy boundary feels like choosing to suffocate.
In both of these situations we have to make sex something fleeting, non-uniting, and something that is used solely for physical pleasure. Otherwise the emotional underpinnings of sex would be too hurtful or too exposing of our internal fabric.
Loneliness, confusion, or resentment are the imminent results when using sex. We either consider why we’re always alone, who we have to become to keep someone around, or we become resentful because our partner isn’t doing their job right…we still feel anxious or lonely.
What do you really want in relationships? Do you want to walk around wondering who will really love you (the way you’ve determined in your head)? Or do you want to take that existential and profound exhale that implicates your ability to rest in the arms of someone safe and committed?
Learning something new about sex and safety is a process of identity formation, a deeper discovery of your inherent makeup.
What would it be like if you didn’t need to have someone? If you could find stability in your own power I am sure you might be able to cherish your partner, instead of need them.
Sex and someone’s enjoyment of your body shouldn’t be a kickstand for your self-confidence. Discover your power and the aspects of your strength that keep you fortified. Life will feel much more liberating.