the nymphomaniac myth

Screen Shot 2018-07-22 at 8.16.21 AM

There is a very strong cultural belief system in the United States that tells us men think about sex all the time. Want sex all the time. And that’s just normal. But women, we are not really that into sex. We don’t want it. But if we do we are sluts. Whores. And an ideal woman is “a lady in the streets and a freak between the sheets.” I’ve seen this request on countless men’s dating profile. Ew x a gazillion.  And a woman who really loves sex is a nymphomaniac. An actual pathology is assigned. It’s pathological for a woman to want lots and lots of sex.

Uh, what? That is some very hideous baby born of Misogyny & Puritanism. Should’ve aborted that little monster.

I am, at my core, a very physical person. As a small child I saw Nadia Comenici in the Olympics and was obsessed. I used to wish and dream that I’d been born in a Soviet country where they would have sent me to a gymnastics training camp and I would have joyfully done hours of arduous gymnastics training from age 5 until maybe 18. That was my dream. My home life was lacking.

I didn’t get my Soviet gymnastics dream but I did do gymnastics later. Then I did dance. I went to a dance high school, like Fame!  I went to college for Modern Dance. I have a degree in fucking Dance. I’m a very physical, kinesthetic person. I live in my body. I’m not mentally stupid, though I feel so much of the time, I’m intellectual, I think, I read, but I first and foremost experience life physically. Through my body. Life is a sensual experience for me.

Our culture is not a physical one. Puritanism really fucked us. And as a woman I’m supposed to be modest, demure, play hard to get. I’m not hard to get. I’m fun to have. I can’t pretend to run away so you’ll chase me. I don’t run. And I love to fuck. Why waste time playing some stupid game those bitches from the rules said is vital to getting a ring on it?

Well, I don’t have a ring on it, maybe those rules bitches are right.

I love sex. I think sex is the thing I love most in life. Followed closely by Iceland. And sex in Iceland is just lovely beyond compare.

As a woman who loves sex I’ve probably been seen as a slut. A whore. I wasn’t sexually active until college, and in Art School that jock/frat/slut shit doesn’t exist. I thought it was some made up movie shit until I was older and heard people relaying their normal college experiences. Ew. Sounds lame. But if people were calling me names I never really noticed. I wasn’t super promiscuous. I had relationships. I have had a pretty low number of one night stands really, for a 45-year-old woman who’s never married that is. I like being monogamous. But I’ve hardly ever found a man who gives me even half as much sex as I want. I can have sex with someone and have it be just sex. I’ve had “fuck buddies” a number of times. But it’s not as easy as it sounds. You think guys are all down for it. No. Many guys are terrified of a sexually embodied woman. It’s considered sexually aggressive for a woman to want sex. Aggressive! For a man it’s just a fact.

I want to find a real partner. But I can’t really deal with life without sex. I thought I’d found a person that I could have sex with, no relationship at all beyond sex, until I met someone to pursue a relationship with. But that’s gone to shit. And while he wants to blame me I still feel that it was never communicated that it was exclusive, and with all of the limitations and emotional walls he was very skilled at putting up he certainly could have said the words to clue me in that he expected exclusivity. But he didn’t. I sometimes wondered  if he ever saw anyone else but given the climate he created of super privacy I didn’t feel like I should ask. And I didn’t care. I knew he’d be safe. I was, and that wasn’t enough. He just sent an opt out text.

Fuck. Just fuck. All I want to do is fuck. Him. I want to hang out, make out, have sex, cuddle, do it all over again. He never gives me that much time. 2 hours is a real treat. But I don’t care about all of the bullshit. I will take what I can get. Gladly. Please and thank you sir. Because he is the best. It is the best. The Best. I can’t stop thinking about him. And then I think about how he’s opted out. And my brain won’t even process it. Because my body rules my show. And my body wants him

Please. Come back.

I’m not a nymphomaniac. But damn that man makes me feel like one.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s