I’ve thought of sex as validation for much of my life. Yes–sex as validation physically with the body. Another person decided I am good enough to fuck. Their body is slamming into mine in an explicit, hungry way–I know I matter to them.
These intense sensations and feelings shared mean something. To me, they mean something at least.
Sex as validation is a mentality I don’t want to live in anymore. But for now, it feels like–I deserve an hour or so. I’m worth attention, risk of illness, sometimes risk of pregnancy. Well, if the other person was a dude, illness and pregnancy seemed far from their minds, the domain of responsible people like me.
The truth is, the other person might be impulsive. When my close friend came to visit me after a year or long distance friendship, he tried me out in bed. I don’t think he flew thousands of miles with the intent to use me. He was horny, and why not. The big titted nice lady was offering cuddles–he took what he could.
That wasn’t about me being good enough. It meant that he wasn’t good enough. The time we spent in bed was an anomaly and didn’t mean anything but that he was curious. The opportunity presented itself.
The truth is, I am worthy no matter what. I’m a person. Mother God put me here to do the work of love. My ancestors handed me their gifts and said, “Go go go!” My genes, cells, past, parents, and culture all collaborated to put me here, and I have things to do.
Someone choosing me to fuck doesn’t mean Anything. I am worthy when I’m chosen or unchosen.
- with other people
- living indoors
- if I was not beautiful
- any age
- any feeling state
In every way, with no question about it, I am worthy.
Sex as validation is a lie. My head knows that, but my body is still believing it. I’m looking for sex as validation all the time. Tell me with your body that I matter to you. I want to matter to you really bad. I want to matter at all. Help me rest in the glow of your validation.
My whole life I’ve been told I’m a failure. Your dick, fingers, tongue, or intelligence penetrating me would tell me otherwise, just for a little while.
It’s not a good position to be in. It makes me vulnerable and can seem desperate. I’m not hurting for stability, money, true love, or pleasure usually. It’s the sex as validation that inspires me to make poor choices.
My spouse and I were having sex, and I asked him to tell him that I matter to him.
“You matter to me,” he said as he held me and sexually touched me in just the ways I like.
Wow, my emotional response was extreme. “You matter to me,” is a beautiful sentence of magic words, sort of like, “I believe in you.” Those words are the opposite of fighting words. Unfortunately, those words can inspire me to cling on someone pretty hard, whether they are actually kind to me or not.
My heart welled up with joy and need. The sexual pleasure mingled with deep longing. Longing to hear this sentence I dream of.
The sex got really emotional. When I finally came that night, I was sobbing with pleasure. But also grief and some deep resolution I needed. My orgasm sealed the deal. I’d gone to a pain place and come back. What a difficult journey–too many feelings.
Does everyone use sex as validation? What can I do instead? How can I get validation in ways that make me less vulnerable? I wish I could learn that.
Maybe I could learn not to need validation at all. Hard to imagine. I’m a relationship person and learn a lot from facing another human being, sharing love, and seeing what happens. Feels like a short path to something–enlightenment, education, hell. Change, decisions at least.
Alone, I’m complete but sort of inert. With another person, I’m necessarily thrown off balance in a way that makes me learn a lot. I’m hungry for new ideas and for touch.
I want into your world. I don’t want to see movies, watch tv shows, hear podcasts, do drugs. Mostly I want to sink into another human being and see the world in a new way through them. I crave connection.
Please comment to share ways of validation that work for you. I don’t earn money, won’t have a baby, don’t win awards. I’m not athletic. Helping people is nice. Completing a chore or project can give me a hit of pleasure.
But there’s nothing like offering my body to someone and having them skillfully hurt me and use me for my holes. So animal and thorough. Your words might lie, but the body doesn’t lie.