I get nervous about sex. In fact, I’ve always been nervous about sex. And why? Well I’m not so sure. I was never abused, never pressured into something I didn’t want to do, never had the ‘fear of god’ put into me if I wanted to discuss it.
That is the thing though – I never did really discuss it. I think I was given a couple of books, but never the birds and the bees talk. I don’t know why. My parent’s are somwhat ‘liberal’ and we aren’t religious. When my boyfriend came to stay it was me, not them, who thought it better that he stay in the spare bedroom.
I first had sex when I was 20 and it was in a bathroom stall on the platform of the tube station in London. My choice (albeit drunken) but still my choice. We weren’t dating at the time, but had been previously and I just wanted to ‘get it over with.’ Not very romantic, but at least I loved the guy. To be 100% honest I’m not even sure if we really ‘did it’ and the only reason I say this is because, although uncomfortable, there was no blood – even marginal and I’m pretty sure there should have been blood.
Fast forward a couple of years. The second ‘first’ time I had sex was with my long-term boyfriend. Again, the first time was drunken (not optimal) and I have a sneaky suspicion I did it to remove any doubt of him going back to his “F%*k buddy” for want of a better word. I don’t recall there being any blood on the sheets then either, but the following morning, after I got up there was a sudden “whoosh” and my pants were drenched. I freaked and the problem was I didn’t know the guy well enough at the time to talk to him about it so I raced to the bathroom and spoke to my digsmate who calmed me down.
Sex with the above boy was ‘alright.’ I can probably count the number of ‘great’ times on one hand. We broke up after two years, although should have done so about a year and a half in. I lost interest in having sex with him – probably because I realised we were never going to be long-term (I was leaving this University town and he was going to stay there.)
My emotions were so closely tied with me wanting to have sex that after a year and a half, knowing we didn’t have a future, I pulled away and sex became uncomfortable, something I dreaded and thought of as a chore. This is not great when you are supposed to be in your ‘prime’ and wanting to rip one another’s clothes off!
Since said boy above I have not had sex. Oh, but I’ve thought about it – on many an occassion. But now I’m scared. I’m scared it’s going to continue to be uncomfortable for me, I’m scared that I’m going to forget what to do and I’m scared it’ll be a F*&k up and I’ll never enjoy it.
My doctor, however, assures me not. In fact, she mentioned that I probably just tense more because on top of being nervous I’m now worried it’s going to be uncomfortable – she in fact advcoated that when I am in a long term, healthy relationship again I should lock myself up with this new man for extended periods of time to ‘get used to sex.’ Who knows when this will happen though as pickings are scant!
I want to enjoy sex, I’m desperate to in fact, but I’m so nervous to just let myself go. My thoughts at the moment are to go and buy myself a ‘toy’ and get used to my body again – perhaps then I won’t be so closed off and nervous and altogether just plain scared.