I watched them 💥
Recently, I watched other people do it.
It was at a party, where I arrived late and just as soon as I got there upon viewing the scene, I had the thought that I should just turn around and go back home.
I felt like an intruder.
But then I thought “Okay, I’ve come all the way over here. Let’s just have a beer first.”
So I did. Just one and after settling in a bit, I felt okay.
In the end, this wasn’t the first time I’d been in this environment. On other occasions, I’ve felt a similar mix of excitement and discomfort at kinky parties and play spaces.
I still knew I wanted to be there.
Except this time I wanted to be more mindful about it.
Take off any pressure and just see what happened inside of me by just existing in the space. And I’m really glad I set the intention.
While I sat there, watching people play together, I realized the thing that makes me feel uncomfortable isn’t necessarily watching other people have sex (with their consent).
It isn’t the slapping of skin against each other, it isn’t the moans, it isn’t the fear of other people’s bodily fluids. Yum.
It’s the pressure.
The pressure I feel in myself to participate.
The thing is, I feel uncomfortable sitting on the sidelines and missing out. At the same time, I’m not comfortable joining in either.
I want to participate but also worry about participating,
I love being the life of the party, I also like feeling like one of the group. I have a strong tendency towards “This is what everyone else is doing. I should do it too!” It’s almost overwhelming.
This is actually part of why I found being visibly pregnant so difficult. It was cool for a while to be “special” but mostly I felt like a woman apart and I hated that.
Furthermore, I am a risk-taker who likes pushing my boundaries. I always have been. Scared? Don’t think. Just jump off that cliff. Fly to a foreign country on your own where you don’t know anyone. Throw the egg into that burned down house.
In almost all aspects of my life, I suffer from severe FOMO.
And then there’s the genuine desire to participate. I want to feel pleasure. I want to be touched by multiple people at once. I want to engage with those people, especially that guy is cute. I want him.
At the same time I don’t want all of it.
I’m not comfortable with spreading my legs in front of all these people. I’m not sure how much I’d want to engage with this person who is in the mix or that other one.
I’m not sure exactly if I’d be able find the words to communicate it all in this state of arousal.
I don’t know how to ask to be part of it either. Do they even want me there?
What if they say no? Will I feel hurt? Could I still be graceful?
How do I even get started?
So that is where the discomfort lies. It’s not in any particular thing. It’s in this inner conflict.
The wanting but not wanting. The curiosity and insecurity battling each other within.
Just noticing that, sitting there watching other people f*ck. That was new for me. A revelation of what exactly was at play in the inner workings of my mind.
Now I knew what my task was.
Take the pressure off myself.
What if I am just here and lean into the fact, that this is overwhelming? That I’m not ready to dive in tonight and I don’t need to be?
Even though it is interesting to me and I’m curious, it doesn’t mean I have to be full on so I can “fit in.”
I can just be here. I can just be on the sidelines and notice what’s happening to me just being here. Sometimes that is enough.
And amazingly giving myself that little pep talk made me feel way more relaxed. Taking off the pressure to participate and leaning into my “no” made me chill and then I actually started to feel aroused from the scene, but this time more in the good way.
I was able to get turned on just from that. To feel that energy, to watch with other people together. That was exciting
And beautiful.
Here’s to more boundary pushing experiences, more nos, and to maybe (just maybe) getting a bit more involved next time.
What else?
Dying for sex
I’m (sadly) almost done watching the mini-series Dying for Sex. It’s so good! And what I love about it is not just that it’s entertaining as hell and the acting is great. It’s that it takes sex seriously.
Just broad overview for those who don’t know, it’s based on the true story of a woman who is dying from cancer and whose libido has increased as a result of drugs she is taking (not a normal side effect but possible). Now she’s finally exploring her sexuality in a way she never has.
I love how it sheds light on how important sex truly can be. For our well-being. For our sense of adventure. For connection. For our sense that we are truly happy and alive.
A lot of people say “Ehh, it’s just sex, though. It’s not that important” as if that mindset makes them somehow morally superior. But it isn’t just sex. It’s so much of what makes like sweet.
Do we have limited romantic energy?
When dating multiple people, is it possible to have the same amount of emotional energy left over for your original partner? In the advice column last week, I found my take was quite nuanced.
Mono-Poly relationships with Fernanda
It was very fun hearing Fer describe her relationship and how this type of dynamic, where one person is mono and the other is CNM can really work.
Some unsolicited feedback from viewers:
“That was eye opening. Thank you.”
“Omg loooved that talk.”
(This and the advice column are for paid subscriber so support this work & free CNM education for the world by becoming one.)
I truly enjoy your work. After I read the Piece about Sex with the ones that don’t tray you right I was hooked. I’m taking notes from you FYI. I love you. #wewin