A draft from last year…
I had my clothes on, but it was still pretty reminiscent of missionary intercourse.
I noticed as it morphed from BEST KISSING EVER to the usual–him on top. I noticed this knowing that I could stop it right then. I realized that I found it annoying/disappointing/disrespectful/misogynist, but I also noticed that the part of me that had been groomed to this “enjoyed” it, or whatever that sensation actually is, you know what I mean. So I said nothing and observed. I observed both of us, because I was participating in it.
I had told myself I wouldn’t have sex with him this week, but in the midst of our interaction, I wasn’t sure any more. Then I climaxed. I tend to become my clear-headed feminist self again when I climax, bored of the bullshit.
So I pushed him off and slowed things down. He seemed to get the message. I thought. We slowed down. But I am learning every day that blunt is best. Because then suddenly he was aggressive and hard again, but more than he had been with me before. Did he think I was playing a game with him, that pushing him off was supposed to invite him to do more? The feminine grooming in me found his behavior “hot,” but the feminist was disturbed. “He totally wants to dominate and use me right now,” I thought. “That’s terribly disappointing.” I continued to experience the encounter through opposing lenses, hungry and disgusted, excited and bored.
When he said he wanted to be inside me (ugh), I said, “Too bad.” At which point he shut up, calmed himself down, and got off of me.
He’s not bad for a Nigel, but I’d rather he didn’t want to fuck me like that in the first place. I’d also rather I was ready to go cold turkey (no more men) and not let him dominate me any more, instead of watching and “enjoying.” I’d rather I didn’t have fucking emotions up around him.
If there’s one thing I’m glad of, it’s the preset limit on our time together. I’m sad about it, because of those emotions (trauma bonds?), but I’m glad that I have an out since I don’t presently seem able to set boundaries that suit my politics .
I’ve seen him since. I wondered, will we have sex? Maybe? Probably? I think I want to…better him than someone else? Like, I wanted to NOT want to, but I still haven’t been able to wash my brain of the conditioning. I still have unpleasant fantasies that get me high and lead me to seek men and PIV. On the plus side, I discovered that I was completely uninterested when I saw him, even a little repulsed. That was kinda cool. Some say if you avoid PIV for a certain amount of time, it gets easier. The trauma bonds break, and you are less likely to put yourself in situations where PIV is probable. I’m hoping for that. Still dealing with thoughts about other men, and still dealing with the unpleasant fantasies.
I have noticed since I started having sex with a woman that my fantasies and turn-ons have changed, and I think this is huge! This is the deprogramming! Before, my sexuality was male-centered, all a psychological response to his experience rather than an experience of my own pleasure. And since all they really wanted was PIV (and had no understanding of the pleasure of subtle sensation), I didn’t like anything but PIV, with me on the bottom. Just fuck me. I don’t really like it, but I’ll get off on his getting off. And because of this, I also wasn’t sure I was cut out for sex with women. You mean I can’t just lie back and take it? I have to do things? What if I’m an empty submissive with no erotic energy of my own? What if it turns out that I’m not sexually attracted to her after all? I was afraid. But guess what? The sex was amazing. It shattered my stunted understanding of what sex was and reshaped it into something wonderful. Maybe I got lucky with this lover, I don’t know. But I crave the way she touches me. I fantasize about lesbian sex. I dream of women. Thinking of them turns me on. I imagine our bodies, our fat and muscle, our skin and hair, our hands and tongues, our angles and curves and kisses and cuddles and the tangled knot of our embrace and clasped hands and sighs and squeals…it is entirely different from what I feel about men. Before I experienced it, I didn’t understand it, and I didn’t think I was capable of sexual attraction to women, but I was. I changed. And I think any woman’s lesbian desire, given the room, can grow and bloom.
What’s the point of the reprogramming? Get rid of the heterosexual ideology. Decolonize your mind and body. Make room for sisterhood and liberation.
So, right, making room for liberation. Not dating any men right now, but that’s more coincidence than the result of firm resolve. Not having PIV, but fantasizing about it an awful lot. Yuck.