I am a firm believer in the act of self gratification. There is only a few seconds in our life time where everything that matters vanishes. Fear, shame, sadness, happiness, joy, love, no matter what you are feeling, the moment of orgasm that one to three seconds of pure unadulterated pleasure nothing else matters.
I have always been a big fan of sex. Even after my sexual abuse I admit I have enjoyed my sexuality and my sexual adventures.
For a lot of years I was incredibly ashamed of the fact that I enjoyed sex – mainly because as a vocal voice for victims of sexual abuse I had a very hard time equalizing the fact that just because I liked sex it didn’t make my abuse any less real or valid.
For a lot of years I thought the opposite. I spent years thinking that just because I enjoy BDSM, (not the fifty shades of grey kind either), just because I enjoy sex doesn’t mean that what was done to me was not awful or scary or bad or you know, my fault.
My ex boyfriend, the only real life boyfriend I ever had, the one who forced me to miscarry my son, liked to tell all my friends that I liked rough sex.
Even in BDSM play however there is a “Safe Word”. In that relationship I didn’t have a safe word, I also had no escape, I had no freedom and I sure as hell didn’t enjoy sex.
I once read a rape fantasy story in which for several weeks the attacker stalked and hunted his victim. It ended with him taking his victim to a cabin in the middle of no where and raping her for several months. Only when she began to enjoy it he no longer wanted her, he left her broken and shattered and spending her life wishing he would return to her. Messed up isn’t it? It’s called Stockholm syndrome, when the victim begins to identify with the abuser and eventually wants nothing more than to be with him, her life is now devoted to making him happy.
That’s exactly how that relationship felt. So now when I masturbate, when I have sex I go out of my way to enjoy it. I enjoy every moment because for so very long not only wasn’t I allowed to, both by myself and the idea of society, but I was ashamed. Let’s face it ladies and gentlemen, I am way too mouthy to remain ashamed of anyone. I’ve made a whole brand out of telling people I don’t really give a fuck what they think about me, and yet for a lot of years I have hid myself from my very best friends and most of my family. So here goes.
If you are going to masturbate, make it fucking magical. We all know that giving ourselves that quicky in the morning or after work is great, works wonderfully but sometimes, I mean if you have the time why not make it magical?
I am an overweight woman. It seems that bother’s some people. It doesn’t bother me however – okay that’s a lie sure I wish I looked like Beyonce and while I’m busy working towards getting healthy again you can focus on how fat my ass is, that’s totally cool. I really don’t care.
I digress however – I am an overweight woman, I have scars from when I was pregnant and gained weight, they are called stretch marks. I have scars from the number of times I’ve been knifed, cut, beaten, kicked, and hit. I have marks from when I had a man take a field hockey stick.
I have a big nose, I share it with my sister and cousins. I have beautiful brown eyes and a big fat black ass. So what does any of this have to do with making masturbation magical?
How many of you who have read my reading before have read how much I love my shower time? Because I really, truly absolutely adore my shower time.
When I shower, I turn off all the lights, I turn on the radio and I let the water wash away all my fears and my sadness. I light a candle because well I don’t really enjoy slipping on my ass, but also because candles make everything sexier.
I run my hands through my hair and down my body, over my scars and between my thighs. I do it because well I have to especially when using soap, but also because when my fingers slide over each and every one of my scars I can take a moment to remember where I got each scar, and why it’s okay that my body is not perfect. For me shower time is not just about getting clean, it’s not even just about relaxing, it’s about appreciating my body.
It’s about appreciating the journey this body has taken me on. It’s about remembering that this is my body and no matter what happened to me or how many scars I have, the pleasure I get from exploring it, from touching myself, and from letting my fantasy’s run wild in my mind, where no one can judge me or tell me I’m bad or wrong or worthless, is an experience that I share with only me myself and I.
So the next time you masturbate, don’t make it just about getting off, make it everything. Why should a solitary experience be any less enjoyable than if you have a partner, or partners with you? Make it an experience to remember. I have many moments in my life that I can look back on and say “Holy Fuck, That was a damn good orgasm”. Why should we be ashamed? Every one does it from your mailman to Priests and probably even your grandparents. Your parents definitely do it! It’s a natural human need, and while I won’t ask you to share your favorite experiences with your own techniques I’d love to hear about some of your sensual rituals. Enjoy yourself dammit, life is too short to be angry and depressed all the damn time.