P.S.: We Also Hold Trauma in Our Bodies
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It’s all well and good to ask you to fully inhabit your body. And of course, sex will be better when you reside within the warm knowing of this sensual frame. But let’s not forget: we hold trauma in our bodies. Often in our most private places and parts. While this is likely more true for some of us than others, to some extent, it’s true for us all. So as you’re beginning to take your body back—as you unplug, and slow down, and let yourself be guided—remember to take care and tread lightly.
What does that mean? To tread lightly means to go slow. It means to back off a bit if you hit tension, pain, emotional ripples, or other warning signs. The message of this chapter is to honor your body, to live in the experience of what’s really happening now. And so if what’s really happening now is that you’re starting to panic, or you’re having flashbacks, or something just doesn’t feel right for you, remember that you’re allowed to ease up, take a break, and proceed at your own pace. Your partner will understand. Or if your partner doesn’t understand, then it may be time for a big sit-down kind of conversation.
At any rate, if you’re doing some of the exercises from this book—whether in this sex chapter or in any chapter—and you start to hit a trauma response (heart racing, sweating, flashbacks, irritability, a weird sort of detachment), there are four simple steps you can follow to help ground yourself.2
Don’t push yourself. When you’ve touched into trauma, go slowly. Gently explore the edge of your sensations, with a balanced and caring attention. Don’t just push through—give yourself a lot of breaks to rest, and then go back to exploring the edges with a lot of mindfulness and care.
Look around. Let your eyes wander about the room or whatever environment you’re in. See color, shape, texture. Just notice that you are seeing stuff, and notice that you are in a safe space. This pause to take in your surroundings allows the nervous system to relax and orient to the present moment—so that you can let go of the anxiety or trigger or whatever is happening.
Toggle. Go back and forth between sensing into your body and then looking around and taking a break. Don’t dig too deeply or too quickly. Trust the body’s ability to release trauma slowly, but don’t force things.
Get support. Talking to someone about this can be really helpful. Especially a trained professional who specializes in trauma work. You can also check out our resources section for stuff that we recommend.
NO SEX IS GREAT SEX
Just a final word before we close out this chapter on making sex good. And this is a special lesson that took years and years for me to learn: No sex can be great sex.
What the heck does that mean? To start with, it means that, if you’re on the asexuality spectrum—as many people are—and you don’t really have a big yen for skin-on-skin action, that’s perfectly fine. That’s great, even. Don’t believe the mass media hype, this constant messaging that sexual satisfaction is the only satisfaction, that excitement is the pinnacle of existence.
Sometimes you just want a good cup of tea.
And don’t underestimate the power of your aliveness. For me, accepting that I don’t always love or want or need sex has been supremely liberating. It’s not some kind of handicap or problem, like our culture wants us to believe. Some days I’m a sexual person. Other days I’m not. Some days I want to get it on. Other days I don’t. And that’s okay. It took me years to learn to just be okay with following the natural rhythms of my body, and of my partner’s body, and letting them guide me with gentleness and honesty.
What I’ve noticed, at least for myself, is that I am an erotic person. An embodied human. I love the world. I love sensation. But that doesn’t always have to be sex for me. It could be running in the morning with the slanting light and birdsong and warm air. Or singing really loud in the shower. Being alive and fully in your body is very erotic, and holding a pose in yoga can be just as good as getting racy in bed. Don’t let the culture tell you there’s something wrong with you if you take pleasure in things other than sex. Do your thing and be proud.
No sex is great sex can also mean that, if you’re not having sex with a friend or lover right now, there’s plenty of sex you can have on your own. Especially if you’re a woman, and you’ve received messages about the wrongs of masturbation, I’d encourage you to get down with your bad self and start exploring your labia. It’s fun and it makes sex with a partner about twelve times better when that person comes along.
And, finally, through meditation, you can learn to ride waves of sexuality, even when you’re not having sex. Sexual energy is just energy. So treat it that way. Treat it like any other sense impression. Use your meditation. Feel it deeply, let it pass through you, let it energize you, and then put that energy into whatever wonderful world-saving moment you’re living in. Since you’re not defined by sex, and especially since you’re hip to the globalized exploitation of objectified images and internet advertising, you don’t necessarily need to follow every sexual fantasy to its foregone conclusion. I have found that this ability to direct sexual energy instead of letting it direct me can be a game changer.
A LAST CHECK-IN
Let’s finish where we started, with some contemplation about sex. And, just to end with a familiar frame, let’s revisit those questions we asked at the beginning of the chapter. Get cozy. Feel your body. And then ask,
What is sex about, for me?
What is my version of good, powerful, meaningful sex?
How do my deepest values inform my sex life?
How does my sex life express my deepest values?
Finally, what’s one thing—one small, doable thing—you can do today that will move you in the direction of the sex (or non-sex) that you really, truly want? Maybe it’s buying a really great cup of cocoa. Or going skiing. Or getting naked with yourself. Or listening to your favorite song. Or buying a ukulele. Or writing a love letter.
Wonderful. Now go out and do that one thing.
Just about all of us, I think, are entangled, in one way or another, to one extent or another, in the trinity of bad sex. Objectifying patriarchal consumerism is running us around, grinding us down, and drying up our life-affirming orgasmic potential. But never fear, you can take back your body. And how will you take back your living, breathing, surprising, and wonderful body? With three simple steps: unplug, slow down, and let your body be the guide.