Disabled sex is valid sex. Pretty common, too. Hopefully you’ll have a variety of partners and learn about disabled sex, if you haven’t already.
Probably you think a pinched nerve is not too bad a disability. Anything that causes pain can be life-disrupting, though.
A nerve is pinched in my neck, on the right side, and it causes pain sometimes, so I can’t sleep. Or I can sleep two or three hours before pain wakes me. But also I lack of sensation and have reduced function in my right hand.
I can still type and grip a pen. Most ways, that hand works ok. I can use it to touch, carry things, shake hands, pet a cat. Load laundry into a washing machine, eat, cook.
Smaller things, my right hand can’t grip. Opening a ziplock bag is difficult because both hands need to be able to grip the thin plastic to pull it apart. Gripping small things, squeezing, and pressing are difficult.
I have a small pair of pliers that I use sometimes, when I need to grip something small with that hand. I consider it a disabled life-hack.
One of the worst things about this pinched nerve is–I lost the ability to masturbate with my right hand. Before, I would masturbate with that hand exclusively.
So I had to learn to masturbate with my left hand. That’s ok, but it means masturbating feels different, because over the decades, my cunt adjusted to more stimulation on the right side. The nerve endings are different on the right and left sides.
I have some mental health issues, which I’m on disability for. I’ve heard voices ever since I can remember. Also, I live through mood swings, anxiety that keeps me from doing a lot of regular life, and PTSD. Sometimes I have paranoia and agoraphobia.
I also have social differences and sensory sensitivity. Those plus hyper-focusing, stimming, and weirdness with numbers may be autism. I don’t have much motivation to get those diagnosed, so not sure I’ll pursue competent evaluation.
There was a lot of violent trauma I endured during my childhood and teenage years, then young adult years, including the violence of sexual assault. That affects me every day, and I’ll probably be working on it always.
Mental health affects all aspects of my life, including sex. I used to have flashbacks, during sex, from the PTSD from sexual assault. I’d get confused, thinking I was in the past. It was uncomfortable. Hmm, that’s an understatement.
Dissociation during sex was very common, to the point of normal, for me. I would go elsewhere–I couldn’t stay in my body. My body could do a physical act, but my mind and soul had fled.
Certain sex acts, such as going down on someone, I would automatically dissociate. These days, when I suck the dick of my spouse, I still have to tell myself, “Stay here.” I’ll have the impulse to mentally flee, and remember I don’t need to do that anymore–I actually like sucking the dick of my spouse, and I’m safe now.
My energy level can be low. My muscles can be very weak, sometimes more than others–not sure why. Sex takes some effort physically, and the emotional energy of being vulnerable, showing up in bed as my whole self. It’s so much pleasure and joy, but it’s also a journey.
I was sedated on a bipolar cocktail for more than ten years, and I slept for 11 hours every night. Energy was rare.
These days, my energy overall is better. I have hypomanic energy sometimes, which is best for artmaking, writing, and sex. Hypomania means I’m more sex-motivated, wanting sexual pleasure and orgasms all the time. My mind goes quicker toward sexual connection, and I lose inhibitions.
It’s good for variety, but can be exhausting, afterward. I don’t want to mess up relationships, so I keep an eye on my behavior and try to reign myself in, if I get too crazy.
Here are just a few helpful tactics! Adjustments can help make disabled sex more satisfying for all.
I used to see sex as something that takes at least an hour and is a big deal. Beginning, middle, orgasms, cuddle. Showers, sometimes. Transitioning into a sexual mood, then the sex, then the transitioning back to regular life.
I enjoy sex being a big deal. But it helps to see sex also as something that could be just a moment–touching my spouse’s ass briefly, putting rose oil on my nipples before bed, sexy touching while dancing happily in the kitchen.
Communication helps, of course. Sharing words is important because it means someone can accommodate me and not misinterpret my behavior. For example, if a partner notices I’m dissociating, they might assume I’m bored, they did something wrong, or I don’t like having sex with them. Very far from the truth.
Asking for what I want is good for everyone, and helps increase the chance that I’ll get it. I want to be understood and loved for who I am.
Having a date can help–knowing that at 2pm, my spouse and I will start interacting intentionally, with some romantic / sexual charge, is great. Spending almost all of our time together, we’re usually doing other things. So knowing we’ll focus on one another at a certain time helps me feel empowered to put the moves on him, request physical contact, get sweet.
Also, scheduling helps me budget spoons. If we’re having a date at 2pm, I make an effort to do only easier things till then. That increases the odds that I’ll have energy for him.
Variety, diversity, not having all my eggs in one basket–I strive for that. My spouse is disabled also, and more resources are better. My values are non-monogamous–I believe that with all my heart . I don’t want my spouse to own me, and I don’t want to own him either.
Getting needs met by many people is way better, whether they’re friends, community members, lovers, paid workers, relatives. I like interconnecting with people in many ways, and not over-relying on anyone. I don’t want to burn people out.
no need to apologize
Someone told me that they feel bad for being physically incapable of doing a certain sexual act. It blew my mind that they would feel bad for that. I could not relate.
When I’m going to have sex with someone, I don’t owe them a broad range of sexual activities. I could have physical or emotional reasons, or no reason at all, for not doing a particular thing. Everyone has preferences, and some people have limitations–that’s life. Disabled sex is as good as non-disabled sex.
I don’t need to apologize for my disabilities. If you don’t like me or what I offer, there’s a world full of people, and good luck finding someone who you’re interested in. I’m happy with what I can do, and so are others.
We don’t even need bodies, to have sex. We don’t need to make it physical at all. Phone sex is a good example of that. Bodies are fun, but people are very creative.