I’ve been pacing back and forth in my studio, slowly nibbling at a salt sprinkled chocolate chip cookie that used to be the size of my head and is now the size of a mere half dollar, all in the name of procrastination of writing this piece (also, if you nibble in small, mouse sized pieces, it’s as if you ate none of it at all, right? A mouse sized piece never counts).
Anyway. I’m supposed to be writing about sex. SEX. S-E-X. SEEEEXXXXXX.
(Writing the same word in all capitals or with a trillion more unnecessary letters is a great form of procrastination, if you’re in the procrastination market.)
When we decided February was going to be Sex Month on the site I was thrilled about a lot of things, but mostly thrilled about writing this piece. A blank page for me to wax and wane about my thoughts on sex?! Sign me the hell up. I’m a scorpio, the only thing I love more than talking about astrology is talking about sex (as seen here).
And now, here I am, looking like a kid on a school yard blacktop trying desperately to nail the timing to jump in on a jump rope game of double dutch. Terrified I’ll either get hurt or make a fool of myself in front of the cool kids.
Come to think of it, sex itself is a lot like double dutch.
You try so hard to determine when you should jump in and then when you do, it’s all floundering and stumbling. But then, ahhhhh, you get into a rhythm, you understand the timing, the dance, and how to make it all sing — and it becomes exhilarating, your feet are flying on the black top, you’re exhausted but you don’t want to stop. It feels like flying.
At the end of the day, sex is the most intimate act we can perform with another person with the most drastic consequences (hello babies, trauma, STDs, the list goes on…), and yet we still stumble around (or downright ignore) procuring the words to talk about both the euphoria and awkwardness that can come with sex. Which is why I wanted to dedicate a whole month to sex, to give us the ample space and attention for a discussion about something we all participate in, but rarely discuss.
I mean, we can quickly rattle off our specific coffee order (“I’d like an extra foam, half soy, decaf cappuccino”), but we can’t articulate how we like our sex. What if we treated sex like ordering a cappuccino? “Today I’d like an extra foreplay, no talking, nap afterwards session, please and thank you.” What are we afraid of? Getting better sex from our partners?
Of course I know what we’re actually afraid of…rejection after showing vulnerability.
Which brings me to something that is often overlooked when talking about sex — how damn brave we are to even dip our toe into the pond.
So, before we even begin our month talking about sex, I want to congratulate you for being brave, for being vulnerable, and above everything else, for being human.