I try to family up with people–it’s a thing. Often a friend and I get close and closer, then to a point where we are good friends with deep intimacy between us. And it’s like– ok, are we going to partner now? At the spot where many would use alcohol or other drugs to get messy and have sex, to figure out how things will be, that doesn’t happen. I don’t drink.
Sex as motivation is troubling me. Sex is a huge factor in what we choose and how much energy we give. I wish there was more flexibility and possibility.
Right now there’s someone my spouse and I are very close to. She thanked us for being family. We’re seeing her almost every day, talking about living together, making plans, supporting each other.
But yesterday she had a date, and part of me was terrified. I don’t want to lose what we have. But maybe it’s toast already. I’ve given a lot–maybe I over-gave.
Our friend doesn’t want to have sex with us, so there’s a divide. She’s going to keep dating to find someone to partner with. In many ways, we three seem partnered right now. But sex isn’t happening, so we are not a priority in certain ways.
It’s heartbreaking when I’m reminded that we are close, with deep trust, but sexuality is the territory I’m not invited to. Maybe I’m doing all of this wrong. It’s suddenly chaos.
sex as motivation
Sex as motivation is too common. Who will you throw down for? Who will you clean the vomit of, or write grants for? I have no faith in myself, that I can keep things balanced. I give like crazy to this tortured genius, then wake up a few months in and wonder who’s giving to me. It’s never reciprocal.
Well, with my spouse it’s reciprocal. I understand that he is my safety and my home. We have something tight, and then I go out into the world to make mistakes with others.
My spouse is involved with this lady also. Sometimes I think she wants to have sex with him, more than with me. Sometimes I sense a fear of intimacy. Other times I think I must be horrible, that I fall in love with these amazing people who don’t want me back.
With my head I know reasons I’m unchosen. It’s not about me. But in my body, it’s just lonely to offer everything to people who are a “no thank you.” I’m happy to take risks, offer, feel, nurture, and be who I am. But how many rejections can I endure?
The irony is this huge beautiful complete acceptance I feel with my spouse. He accepts me profoundly. I have a holy thing with him that most people only dream of. I have an amazing gift, and I do value my spouse and nurture him.
But my heart is a slut. My whole self is a slut.
My best friend says I have a parent wound that makes me keep looking for love. She really hurt my feelings, telling me that many years ago. She’s a monogamous person and wants me to be happy. I found it offensive, her idea that I could be monogamous if I healed my trauma about my dad.
Monogamy is so overrated. I resented her self-righteousness about relationship styles. These days we don’t even talk about it. It’s one of the many topics that feel put to bed. And of course she hasn’t had a partner in many years–maybe a decade. She’s monogamous with nobody.
These days my wound feels more about my mom. I’m looking for family and unconditional love. I get charmed by someone and am like a baby bird: “Are you my mother?” No, you are not even the right kind of animal, let alone my mother. My mom is dead. No one will ever love me like that again.
But sex as motivation means that if someone wants to fuck me, I have a chance at being prized and honored. At least for a while. I’m looking for people I can rely on that way others rely on me. Maybe the actual problem is that most people don’t want to be there for anyone.
Sex as motivation is depressing me. Who matters to you, and what will you give to them? How long will you stay? How long can you prioritize someone? What are you looking for?
I’m not going to irresponsibly have sex with someone on accident, so we can try things out by sneaking into partner-land experimentally. I need the conversation if only to talk about STIs. Let alone to talk about my heart, and how I’ll feel the next day. How our relationship will change once our partner-trauma is activated. New needs pop up we weren’t expecting, and who’s ready for that?
At the end of a meeting yesterday the question was “what do you want more of in 2024?”
I answered, “hugs.” Other ideas are alone time, dates with myself, self-reliance. Maybe I could define myself more as who I am on my own, rather than in relationship with others, especially others who don’t want to fuck me. Or who sort of want to fuck me–not enough to actually talk about it.
Sex as motivation means who gets left in the cold? I don’t want stupid sex, and I can’t do casual sex. I have integrity and need the whole enchilada of communication, consent, and long term something. Yes, I want to love for the long haul.
I don’t need sex as motivation for my own love. But my cunt and my heart are so connected. At some point my cunt starts singing, and who can quiet that song?