What You Really Really Want (2 page)

As I struggled to form a helpful response, I thought:
Of course!
It's not like I was born with some superhuman ability to shut out a lifetime of the noise that's been thrown at me about my sexuality. Everything I now know about my own desires and boundaries has been hard-won through trial and (sometimes very unpleasant) error. And while that learning process is far from over, I do know a lot about how to figure out what I want.

I've learned that being wanted isn't the same as wanting, and it's important not to confuse the two. I've learned that I'm going to make mistakes—that just because something winds up feeling bad doesn't mean it was wrong for me to try it, as long as I tried it out of my own curiosity and not because of pressure, threats, or coercion. I've learned that direct communication is almost always the best policy, even when it feels hard or awkward, but that everyone can bring their own style to it. I've learned that there's no way to eliminate risk from my life, so the best approach is to get informed and decide which risks I'm comfortable with. I've learned that it's possible for me to violate my own boundaries, and how damaging that can be, and how to resist doing that. I've learned that love doesn't actually conquer all, even though it can be the best thing ever. I've learned that some things that are supposed to be good for me feel bad, and some things that are supposed to be bad for me feel great, and that ultimately, I get to make my own decisions about what's good and bad for me.

And that's what this book is about—equipping you to be the ultimate arbiter of what works and what doesn't work for
you, sexually speaking. Because I could tell you a lot about what I really really want from my sexuality, but that's not going to tell you anything about what
you
really really want. You're the only one who can figure that out.

The good news is that you really can figure it out. You can take a long, deep look at all the voices that have shaped what you currently think about sex and figure out how to amplify the ones that work for you and turn down the ones that don't. You can learn how to evaluate risk using information and instinct and decide which risks are bogus, which risks you don't want to mess with, and which risks are real but worth taking. You can learn how to talk with partners (both present and potential) in ways that maximize pleasure and connection. You can learn how to build a sexual support group of friends who will cheer you on and check your reality when you need it, and you can learn how to deal with friends and family who may be uncomfortable with your newfound freedom. Through it all, you can reject the Terrible Trio—shame, blame, and fear—and build a sexual life that fits you so well that you find yourself humming with happiness for no apparent reason.

Sound good? It should, because it is. Sound easy? Probably not, and for good reason. The path from where you are now to where you want to end up is likely to be meandering and a little rocky. It can be uncomfortable to question things you've believed without question, and it can take time to develop faith in new ideas, even if they seem right for you. It's definitely going to require hard work, and a real commitment to yourself. But what a payoff: knowing what you really really want from sex, and knowing how to safely, sanely pursue it.

This book won't teach you how to find a boyfriend or a girlfriend. It won't offer any tips on how to make the object of your affection find you irresistible, nor will it reveal a set of rules guaranteed to get you married in under a year. Or any other amount of time.

Likewise, this book won't teach you how to “hang on” to your (wo)man, how to make a marriage last, how to keep the spark alive, or how to recapture the magic you once had.

Further, even though this is a book about sex, it won't teach you any new techniques. None. You won't learn five things guaranteed to turn a guy on, or seven sex moves guaranteed to blow her mind.

It's not that I don't know any of these things. I know a few moves that I could share, and I've learned a lot about relationships and attraction over the years. But let's be honest: There's no lack of sources trying to tell you these things. If there really were definitive answers to these questions, everyone who wanted to would have a happy, hot relationship by now.

Reality is messier than that. What may attract one person can turn off another. Likewise, the sexual technique that made your ex's toes curl may make a new lover just giggle. It's a waste of time to try to learn rules that will apply to everyone. Plus, it gives your power away. Putting all of your energy into figuring out how to please or manipulate a partner makes their pleasure, their needs, and their responses more important than yours. And they're not. They're just not.

That's why this book focuses on the one sexual relationship you're going to have for your whole life: the one you have with
yourself. Because once you develop a healthy, happy, reality-based relationship with your own sexuality, you'll have everything you need to figure out the rest. That doesn't mean you'll be instantly irresistible to everyone you'd ever want to attract. It may even narrow down your pool of datable prospects, not because you'll be less appealing overall (quite the opposite!), but because you'll be less appealing to people who are bad for you and you'll be less interested in them as well.

What it will do is make you more confident in your intuition about people, more appealing to people who want you exactly as you are, and more likely to have satisfying, soul- and body-fulfilling experiences with the people you do decide to be sexual with.

This book isn't meant to just be read. That would put me, as the writer, in charge of telling you how to feel about your sexuality. Instead, you're in charge. Every chapter includes exercises designed to help you get to the heart of what matters most to you when it comes to sex. The exercises aren't just optional suggestions—think of each one as a rung on a ladder, or a stepping-stone on a pathway to what you really really want. They're the key to answering the questions you have about sex and unlocking a better, more authentic relationship with your own sexuality.

Each chapter is designed to be completed within a week or two, but do it at whatever pace makes the most sense for you. Don't rush—you'll get there eventually, and you'll get a
lot farther if you take your time and really give the ideas and exercises the attention they require.

You may find, as you work your way through the book, that strong or surprising feelings come up for you. That's really understandable. This isn't a book about golf—it's a book about sex, one of the most powerful and elemental human experiences there is, and a subject about which many of us have painful or complex associations. There's no wrong way to feel as you do this work. We'll talk a lot more about feelings as the book goes on, but in general, please be as gentle and nonjudgmental as you can with your feelings, and ask for support from your friends, family, and/or a professional counselor as you need it.

If you're at all inclined to complete this book with a group, go for it. Gather a group of girlfriends or coworkers or cousins or whatever gang you can put together, and get together at the end of each chapter to discuss what you learned about yourself and what feelings came up for you. Not only will you learn more about each other, possibly becoming closer as a result, but you'll also feel less alone and more confident that you have compatriots who understand and support the changes you may be going through. Plus, doing the book with friends goes a long way toward keeping you on track—if you have a busy week and feel tempted to just put the book down and leave it for some other time, your group can be a great motive to keep going.

In fact, this book was developed with the help of a phenomenal crew of eleven volunteers, who experimented with each chapter in its first draft and met with me every week to talk about their experiences with sex and with the exercises. Their generous time, insight, and vulnerable honesty shaped
this book in more ways than I can name, and you'll hear their voices throughout each chapter, alongside the voices of numerous other women who volunteered to share intimate details of their lives with you in order to make it possible for you to build a better, stronger sexual relationship with yourself.

That about covers everything you need to know before diving in! Are you ready to figure out what you really really want? If so, turn the page.

CHAPTER 1

B
Y THE TIME ANY OF US IS OLD ENOUGH TO THINK ABOUT sex and sexuality, we've been bombarded with so many years of confusing experiences and messages from our families, friends, culture, and media that it seems impossible to even remember that there was a time when we just knew what we wanted to do with our bodies.

Most of us can probably remember an experience when we, as kids, did something that made our bodies happy—like climbing a tree, or dressing in your mom's best silk dress because it felt good against your skin—but then learned that doing these things made other people unhappy. Or maybe you were told that doing some things that made your body happy would get you in trouble, or put you in danger—like scrambling onto the
counter to reach the package of cookies your father hid on the top shelf, and then eating all of them. Maybe you learned that doing things with your body that you'd rather not do, like having to kiss your gross uncle goodbye, would make other people really happy—people you cared about, people whom you wanted to please. Or that
not
doing those things would make those people not like you anymore. This happens all the time in childhood. You're told to put your clothes back on. Go to bed when adults say so, no matter if you want to run around and play. Wear a dress, even if you want to wear pants. Don't climb that tree, you'll hurt yourself.

But instinctively knowing what feels good and what doesn't—and being able to tell other people about it—is exactly what we need to do to feel safe in our bodies and to enjoy our sexuality. So how on earth do we get there from here?

Well, I'll tell you. We can't. You read that right. The truth is, it doesn't just
feel
impossible to entirely shed the influence of the people and cultures that raised us. It
is
impossible. Even if you do everything exactly the opposite of how you were raised, you're still acting the way you are in response to those influences. None of us can ever entirely unlearn the lessons we learned growing up.

What we can do is understand those lessons. We can take a long, hard look at what messages we've absorbed about our bodies, our safety, and our sexuality; where those messages came from; and what we think about them. And, just like boosting the bass and reducing the treble on a stereo, we can decide which messages we want to amplify in our lives, and which we want to minimize. The specific balance that works for
you is nobody else's business—it's the process of finding that balance that matters.

Knowing what you want from sexuality is part of knowing what you want from life. Your personal desires flow from just one emotional spigot. If you're cut off from your sexual desires, you're likely to find it much harder to know what you want in other areas of your life, whether we're talking about academics, career pursuits, or friendships.

Tuning in to what you really really want can be incredibly freeing. Not only does knowing what you want from sex significantly increase the likelihood that you'll actually get it, it's also like a love letter to yourself. Taking the time to get in touch with your own desires sends a strong message to yourself: You matter. Your opinions, instincts, beliefs, and feelings are important. You are the foremost expert about your own life and body. Paying attention to your own desires and limits teaches you to trust yourself, to be strong on your own behalf. It's a practice that can inspire you to go after what you want in all areas of your life.

In other words? Knowing what you really really want can be a heck of a lot of fun.

Knowing what you want and what you don't and how to act on that sounds great, doesn't it? I'll be honest—it absolutely can be. But, regardless of where you're starting from, examining your relationship with your own sexuality can be quite the journey. So, just as you would for any important trip, you've got to prepare.

Let's start with a checklist of things to do as you begin working with this book. Some of them are quick and easy, and some of them are things you'll need to keep doing the whole time you're on this journey (and may choose to keep doing even longer than that). It might be tempting to skip some, either because they seem pointless or because they seem too hard. But take it from me: The ones you want to skip are the most important ones for you to do.

Starting today, and at least until you finish this book, find ten uninterrupted minutes to write every day. Doesn't matter if you like to write. Doesn't matter what you write. Doesn't matter what time of day you write. Doesn't matter if you write with pen and paper, use a keyboard, or use voice recognition software. All that matters is that you find someplace—a closet, if necessary!—where no one will disturb you for ten minutes, and that you keep writing the whole time. Write gibberish. Write, “I hate this stupid writing.” Write things you've always wanted to say, or things you don't even believe. Burn or delete your writing right after you finish it if you want. Just write. And when I say “write,” I don't mean “stare at the page for ten minutes and then write three sentences and call it a day.” I mean write for the whole ten minutes. Your pen, your fingers on the keyboard, or your lips should not stop moving for the entire ten minutes.