Confused about my sexuality in a lot of different ways

[RedThrowaway]

To make a long and messy story short, I was pretty sheltered as a kid, and my first experience with sex as a concept was with a… what I will call teacher sexual abuse scandal that happened at my school, that we weren’t allowed to talk about and as such I suppressed the memory of and let fester in my head, along with the idea that sex was evil and immoral stemming from non-religious sources. (For the record, I was not sexually abused, and as such I struggle with whether or not I’m allowed to call it sexual trauma. It was traumatic for me to go through nonetheless, and as such I will refer to it as just trauma.) My relationship with kink is also complicated: my first exposure to the concept was a book about mental health issues that said that sadism/masochism and other BDSM related fantasies were paraphilias, but over time through reading and writing fanfiction, I developed… I don’t know if they’re sexual or nonsexual kinks, but kink-adjacent fixations on certain things. It’s something I’ve been sorting through in therapy, but it’s left me with a weird sort of relationship with sexuality.

I feel a disconnect between me and the idea of sex; my thoughts about it are either thoughts of fictional characters that do not give me distress, and intrusive sexual thoughts that do give me distress (when I talk to people I sometimes have intrusive thoughts about having sex with them, or them taking advantage of me sexually, or being sexually attracted to them).

In terms of kink, I have two subsets of kink: things that I’m scared of in real life, but am fascinated by if I actively seek it out in fiction (ex. I am emetophobic, I get nervous when people so much as gag, I’m scared of it being sprung upon me suddenly in movies and such, but I actively seek out stories with vomiting/scenes of people vomiting in movies). The other subset is that, when I get stressed, sometimes I have submissive fantasies, where I imagine myself being tied up and used sexually while being praised. I don’t know if I want this sort of thing in real life, because the idea of sex terrifies me, but the idea of a clear order of “if you do this thing you will get this reward” and being praised for doing a good job provides me some comfort from real life, where I often play the role of people pleaser without any sort of acknowledgment or praise.

I think I’m aromantic, in that I can’t differentiate platonic and romantic attraction, but I can only watch porn/read smut if there’s some kind of emotional feelings involved. Images of straight up fucking kind of grosses me out, but porn with feelings doesn’t. And the thought of eye contact during sex also genuinely terrifies me. (Maybe this is why I’m so into fanfiction lol.)

Basically I like thinking about sex in fiction but I am terrified of talking about it or doing it in real life. And if I am into sex, I want it outside the context of a romantic relationship. But that’s… hard, because usually the advice people give is that you should have sex with people you’ve known for a while, but how does that work outside of romance? And how does that work with out there sexual interests?

I know it’s a harmful myth to equate asexuality and sexual trauma, but as such it’s been incredibly hard to find anything helping me through my very specific circumstances. I don’t have a sense of sexuality before my trauma and sexuality after my trauma, and I don’t have a sense of consistency in the before and the after. I don’t know if I was “robbed” of my sexuality so to speak, and I don’t know if I’ve always been averse to sex separate from the trauma, because my relationship with it started with the trauma. If I work through it, I don’t know what a relationship with sexuality looks like, and I don’t know if that means I’m asexual. And I don’t know what that means for kink. I know a lot of asexuals who are into kink, but how does I explore that in real life with… all this?

I worry this is a lot of emotional vomit (pun intended), so I can clarify anything if needed.

I also feel… I guess wrong? Identifying as aroace, because my aromanticism feels entirely separate from the possibility of me being asexual, and aroace sort of in my head implies the two are connected. It’s probably a weird way to think of it, but that complicates matters even more. I also feel like my asexuality, if I am asexual, is so different from other people’s asexuality that I don’t have the right to identify as ace.

[Tara]

Hi, Redthrowaway,

First of all, I want to say that I am sorry for and can empathize with your initial experience of sex as a traumatic one. When that is the case it can influence our developing sexuality, future sexual selves, and overall relationship with sex in general which is so unfortunate. I am glad you are seeking therapy to heal from some of the wounds and I want to encourage you that you can heal sexual trauma.

I can understand your confusion and maybe overwhelm with all the various aspects of your sexual self - and the parts that are stemmed in sexual trauma do not help the variety, either. I think it will be important to start to unravel what it is you desire, want to claim, and what you consider to be tied to your sexual trauma that you want to start to heal.

It sounds like where you are right now is enjoying and entertaining the thoughts and fantasies of sex, but moreso in a personal way with fictional characters and the idea of enjoying sex with people might be something that makes you anxious or you just simply are not desiring of right now. I want to reassure you that where you at right now is perfectly okay, not wrong, and should be something that satisfies you (so worrying about what others think, what the standards are, or what labels or identities constitute as a particular interest or feeling should not make you feel worried or ashamed). In your personal explorations, you have identified what you refer to as "kinks" but at Scarleteen we actually refer to these as just personal preferences (kink is an overused and overloaded term). There is also nothing wrong with your personal preferences - again, these are unique to you and should satisfy you.

You may need to do some more exploring, reflecting, or healing from some things before you find what your preference and comfortability is with actual people. Maybe you can start with where you are at and if your fantasies begin to include non-fictional people, that may be a small and non-threatening step towards exploring sex beyond fictional characters and personal fantasies.

I looked for some articles on our site that speak to various aspects of your situation that you might find helpful:

• How to Approach Sexual Fantasy and Desire on Your Own Terms: https://www.scarleteen.com/read/sex-sex ... -own-terms

• Big Questions About Gender Identity, Sexual Orientation, and Sexual Fantasy https://www.scarleteen.com/read/identit ... al-fantasy

• Reconnecting with the Body: Managing the Physical Impact of Sexual Trauma https://www.scarleteen.com/read/abuse/r ... ual-trauma

• How Do I Figure Out if I Want to Have Sex? (Post-Trauma) https://www.scarleteen.com/read/abuse/h ... ost-trauma

I hope these are helpful reads for you. Let us know what you think.

[RedThrowaway]

Thank you for your reply, and such a fast one too. I’m sorry I wasn’t as fast; sometimes it takes me a while to process responses as thorough as these, and a bit longer after that to respond just as thoroughly.

It can be hard to disentangle the sexuality that stems from trauma and the sexuality that doesn’t, that’s for sure. But when I think about what I want, when I get the closest to having a sense of my own sexuality, it’s that I want to feel safe and wanted. A big part of the appeal of BDSM for me is the idea of a dominant person/people making decisions for me, setting clear expectations that I can follow, and being in a world where nothing but that exists. But even that is a bit tricky, because it’s hard to tell if the desire stems from sexual arousal, or deep-rooted anxiety and self esteem issues. I can have a hard time differentiating arousal from, say, the relief of seeing an organized spreadsheet, or the catharsis of the comfort after the hurt in a story, or anger from being ignored and turning that inwards. It all feels the same to me, down to feeling it in my genital area. And every time I do try to imagine myself in my fantasies, I get intrusive thoughts that ruin the fantasy.

It doesn’t help that… to be honest, the idea of having sex with a semi stranger (provided we know some information about each other and are in a safe place) than a peer or romantic partner? But that’s not usually how it works.

[Latha]

Hello, Redthrowaway! Don't worry, you can take as long as you need before you respond. Our conversations here usually are not time-sensitive, so we'll always be here once you are ready.

Reading your post, I'm not too sure you *have* to differentiate between desire that stems from sexual arousal and that which comes from anxiety. Sexual desires are often mixed up with fears and insecurities in one way or another. I think a lot of people would be able to relate to your thoughts on people-pleasing, praise, and wanting to be in situations that have a clear formula for doing things right and being appreciated for it. Hypothetically, if these desires helped you feel good, and didn't have significant negative effects on on your life, would it matter where they stem from?

And every time I do try to imagine myself in my fantasies, I get intrusive thoughts that ruin the fantasy.

I know you've described having intrusive thoughts when you talk to people... are those similar to ones you get when you imagine yourself? How do they ruin the fantasy?

Getting to know a person well, even outside a romantic relationship, is one common way to increase safety, though it may not be the only one. If I may ask, what are the benefits of exploring sex with a stranger over someone you know for you? Does it help that you are less likely to see them again?

[RedThrowaway]

Hypothetically, if these desires helped you feel good, and didn't have significant negative effects on on your life, would it matter where they stem from?

I guess for the most part, no. But is it veering into hypersexuality/hypersexualizing if I don’t differentiate? How do I differentiate the inteusive/automatic thoughts from what I actually want? How do I tell what turns me on if fear and excitement feel like arousal?

I know you've described having intrusive thoughts when you talk to people... are those similar to ones you get when you imagine yourself? How do they ruin the fantasy?

They are in some ways. Having intrusive sexual thoughts about people I know, especially people I am not attracted to or are in positions of authority (ie professors), and a feeling of dissonance between me and having a sense of self, is similar between the intrusive thoughts during fantasy and not. I don’t really have anyone to fantasize about, and I don’t like centering myself, so I guess my mind tries to fill in the blanks.

Getting to know a person well, even outside a romantic relationship, is one common way to increase safety, though it may not be the only one. If I may ask, what are the benefits of exploring sex with a stranger over someone you know for you? Does it help that you are less likely to see them again?

I feel like for me, the less I know someone, the easier it is to be more open with them about certain things. For example, I’m scared of talking about sexuality/showing my writing (sexual or otherwise) to friends out of fear that I will lose them or they won’t like me anymore. With strangers, there’s less expectations, and in certain settings (a la going into a sex shop, I would say sex/BDSM clubs but I’ve never been to either), I know in advance that they probably are used to nontraditional preferences.

[lilikoi]

Hi RedThrowaway,

I hope it's okay for me to jump in! A lot of your questions revolve around labeling your behaviors. That can be organizing in a helpful way but I notice that in your posts so far they might be adding to confusion. Have you considered engaging with your sexuality with fewer labels (ace, hypersexual, kink) and how does it feel to consider doing that? One of our articles
has some food for thought about this in case it strikes your fancy!

Sexuality is complex and layered but I would reiterate that the differentiation between most healthy and unhealthy desires are whether they have significant negative effects on your life like Latha mentioned. It sounds like the knot tied between your sexuality and the early traumatic experiences you had is tied tight. From your previous posts, I can't tell if your desire could be an example of arousal nonconcordance. Does it feel like arousal happens sometimes when your brain isn't interested in desire? Here's a Ted Talk by Emily Nagowski that addresses that common reaction. Alongside the work you're doing to recover, I wonder what it would feel like to try to stay present with your desire. When you attempt relating to your desire and arousal without judgement, what happens? Is it hard to feel accepting of the arousal you feel for positive and negative experiences?

I would add that if your early experiences linked sex and religion, that often has the effect of cleansing it of the completely acceptable subversive desires that many people feel. Those desires, so long as they are consentual between everyone involved, are okay to feel. For yourself, if the desire does not negatively impact the life that you have outside of fantasy and play, that's okay to feel too!
I love this article about fulfillment and pleasure. Maybe it will land for you!

[RedThrowaway]

Apologies for taking so long to respond again! Life got in the way lol.

I guess for me, my two main reasons for wanting a label is that 1. my sexuality is so complicated that when I do try to explain it without labels, I end up dumping a lot of information and trauma and “TMI” stuff, but labels can help mitigate that to some extent, and 2. I guess labels give me some semblance of security, I guess, knowing that I can know something in a world of uncertainty.

I’ve heard of sexual nonconcordance without knowing what it was called. I can’t tell if I experience or not? For me, it’s more that arousal can be blurred with other emotions, not so much that my body is reacting in a way opposite to my head. That and intrusive sexual thoughts, which is all in my mind and not in my body, if that makes sense.

Trying to stay present when I fantasize/masturbate/etc. is fine if I focus on a few specific body parts at a time, or when I just focus on how it makes me feel, or when I imagine a scenario around me. But when I feel my full sense of self present… I don’t know how to describe it. Jarring, uncomfortable, wrong. I don’t know if it’s because of intrusive thoughts, because I’ve never had sex before, because I’ve been conditioned to believe that sex is wrong, because I’m worried about being hurt, I don’t know.

Another part that feels so isolating about it all is that none of it really stemmed from religion. I was raised Catholic, but not in a “thinking about sex is sinful” sort of way. Most of my shame around sex comes from nonreligious sources: people not talking about sex/sexual abuse, public schools not explaining sex, reading books in the school library that said sadism and masochism were mental illnesses, people saying or implying that being into stuff as innocuous as feet makes you weird and gross and morally evil, having no one I can talk to about sexuality except in the context of writing, and so on.

[lilikoi]

No apologies necessary! The beauty of the boards is that we can pick up right where we left off. Thanks for posting <3 and thank you for the context you gave!

I wonder if we could pick one aspect of the confusion and discomfort you're feeling to move forward with and direct our conversation a little more. Which part would you like support with first?

[RedThrowaway]

I guess right now the most distressing thing is feeling dissociated from my body when I masturbate/fantasize, but I worry that’s also the hardest part to disentangle.

[maille]

Hi RedThrowaway,

I am sorry you are so troubled by this. It seems like you have gotten some good insight here, so far. Can you explain more about what the dissociation feels like during masturbation and fantasy?

[RedThrowaway]

I guess the simplest way to describe it, is that it feels wrong for my body and my self to be sexual. It feels wrong for it to be in sexual situations, it feels wrong for me to be sexual, it feels wrong to want to be in sexual situations without romance, it all feels wrong.

[Becky]

Hey RedThrowaway!

Can you say more about being sexual feeling wrong? I see in your earlier posts you mentioned being raised Catholic but not feeling shame around sex deriving from that upbringing. Does it still feel like a moral issue for you or is it something else?

[RedThrowaway]

I can’t tell if it’s a moral sort of wrong, or a discomfort sort of wrong.

[Tara]

Hi, RedThrowaway:

Sometimes when we have deeply religious backgrounds, it can create a sort of moral punishment complex within ourselves. This is also discomforting and difficult to move past without some type of therapy. Have you thought about talking more about this issue religion influencing your sexuality with a professional?

[RedThrowaway]

Honestly the religion and sexuality things are both barely connected lol. I grew up in a pretty progressive religious household, and 99% of the roots of my shame and discomfort from from nonreligious settings (I went to Catholic school as a very little kid, and the rest of my schooling was at public school or private nonreligious school). But that’s also a source of isolation; most people I know can trace their shame around sex to religious upbringings, but I… can’t. It all comes from nonreligious sources, whether it be teachers in positions of power, health education, or just not being able to understand people or have anyone to talk to.

[mikky]

I get that! We unfortunately don't have to grow up in any kind of extreme environment to get plenty of shame about sexuality from the world around us.
What do you think could help you remedy the shame you experience?

[RedThrowaway]

I’m not really sure. I’m not sure if the discomfort comes from trauma, or being repulsed by sex in real life but not in fiction, or dysphoria, or dysmorphia, or inexperience, or what.

[Anya]

Hey RedThrowaway,

If you are willing to try and center yourself around that discomfort that you mention and feel it in your body, can you name where you feel it? It could be a nausea stomach feeling, or a tightness in your chest, or a numb nothingness that's hard to pinpoint. What does it feel like to you?

If you can locate that feeling in your body it can be easier to connect it to other feelings you might have experienced. If you're wondering about trauma or repulsion specifically, a mind body practice like this can help narrow that down.

If you are able to pinpoint the way it physically feels to be in this discomfort, can you think of any other time in your life where you've experienced this same or a similar kind of feeling? What might hat bring up for you?

If you've ever considered therapy, there are university sponsored services, online programs, and independant therapists that use these and other kinds of practices over time to help you identify what's going on in your brain and body. Is that something you might ever look into?

[RedThrowaway]

Physically, it feels like a tightness in my chest and stomach, and a sense of realizing that I am in this body and it is me, and feeling disconnected from reality because of it. I get dissociation/depersonalization sometimes from walking around, or from looking at pictures of myself.

I sometimes talk about sex with my therapist, but through the lens of writing. I think part of me is… scared, I think, of admitting that I am a sexual being who masturbates and has dirty thoughts. Partially out of shame, but also partially because I worry if sharing sexual thoughts with someone is the same as being sexual with them.

[Heather]

Hi there, RedThrowaway.

If it helps, perhaps you can look to this conversation to see an example of how we can talk about sex with people in a way that is very different than being in a sexual interaction with them. What makes that difference tends to be context and consent: not every context of talking about sex or sharing sexual thoughts and feelings is sexual, and for something to actually be sex between people, everyone involved basically has to agree that it is. See what I mean?

It doesn't sound like thinking of sexual thoughts as "dirty" is helping you out here. For some people, "dirty" feels fun and sexy and playful. For others, it feels shameful. If it's the latter, as it seems it is for you, I'd suggest not framing your sexual thoughts that way, and instead framing them in ways that don't activate shame in you so readily. <3

Can I ask if you and your therapist have talked about intrusive thoughts and you, particularly with sex and sexuality? What do you think you'd need from them to be able to let them know that, like most people, you are a person with an actual -- not just a theoretical or written -- sexuality you want to talk about? Can I also ask if you have talked with them about the dissociation you've just described?

[RedThrowaway]

I have talked about the dissociation and intrusive thoughts with them. I get very nervous talking about my actual sexual feelings with them—I get nervous even admitting I masturbate. I don’t know how to talk about having sexual desires with them, about wanting sex without romance, about wanting to explore kink with other people, about dissociating when I try to focus on myself while masturbating. It’s hard to say out loud, but will I overwhelm her if I just write it all out like this?

[mikky]

Hi redthrowaway,

If I'm understanding correctly, we're talking about sharing with your therapist about these complicated feelings about sex?

In that case, I think writing it all out like this could be pretty helpful for them, and maybe you too. It can be really hard to say things out loud, and using the strategy of writing could even lay some groundwork to do that in the future. I'm a big fan of writing down what is hard to say out loud!