It’s this funny thing: Sex. Sexuality. I mean, I'll be honest... I don’t really understand it.
“You can’t talk about sexuality that's uniform, homogenous, classifiable into codes-- any more than you can talk about one unconscious resembling another”
- Helene Cixous, The Laugh of Medusa
I’ll start off by saying that I don’t really know what it is to “get” about this topic. It’s one of those things where I’m like, will I just wake up one day, meet someone and be like oh! THIS makes sense. All my confusion has been sorted! But I don’t think it is. At ALL actually. That isn’t to say that other people cannot enlighten me about what I need or want, but they are not the answer to my questioning and my not knowing. That is all up to me.
I feel like I’m always guessing.
Guessing what I’m going to like next, who I’m going to like next, what I want, what I don’t want. It’s all GUESSING. But guessing only comes if I actually allow myself the opportunity to be curious.
I cannot know another person until I know myself (“knowing” being a fluid term implying self-awareness, not a set-in-stone knowledge of the self) so to expect someone else to give you answers about who you are is absurd. Because in the end, I’ve gone through not knowing countless of times. In fact, I’ve not known what I wanted for so long that I tricked myself into thinking that I did know and that everything about me was sorted. I taught myself how to fit and pass so perfectly within this beautifully fucked structure and expectation that society places on the universal “us”. I don’t know where I shifted and where I started to open my eyes to be more curious to the immense opportunities this life and this topic actually has for me, but I am so glad that I did.
Because in all honesty, I’m scared. I’m actually bloody fucking terrified 99% of the time.
Because right now, especially, I have no idea what I want. And it’s so fun to be secure! We love control! The ability to know. To have a strong grip on the next steps. To not be confused.
I mean, being a beautifully proud queer woman has been a very liberating part of my life. Dating AFAB people has been wonderful, just as dating AMAB people has been wonderful, and I have dated outside the gender binary as well. But that word, queer, is so funny; so difficult to navigate sometimes. It can be hard to guess what I want next. It can be hard to have to explain that yes, cisgendered heterosexual men do fit into that equation as well. I just hate having to explain myself in general but I don’t really feel the need to cushion other’s people’s insecurities about my sexuality. That’s truly what it comes down to: other people feeling insecure about my choices and allowing myself to adopt their fears. The most important person that’s unfair for is myself.
But I’m scared, people! Terrified! But my fear and my past trauma are things that I don’t want to build my identity around. In fact, they’re quite boring (and I laugh as I type this because what a claim). But truly! If I voiced all my fears to my friends, at some point, it would be similar to a song stuck in your head that just keeps ringing over and over again. They’ll know what’s coming next and the conversation will probably get so mundane that they’ll get bored of it too (and there are so many exciting, wonderful things to talk about!)
To live in fear is actually really easy. The things I tell myself in my head are unbelievably consistent and I am fairly impressed with my mind’s ability to tell myself how inadequate, or unable, or phony I am. I am impressed that I keep on believing it. It’s truly quite a feat: to be bogged down by the ferocious screaming in my head that never changes its tune.
Fear is so habitual. And if practiced everyday- doubting yourself- it will soon become second nature: a talent that you have cultivated through consistent meditation. And at some point this year I decided to acknowledge this unhealthy practice I have developed. Not try and shove it aside, but to acknowledge that it exists and to say to myself: is this really how I want to live my life? Terrified by the idea of not knowing? Of allowing other people’s fears to become my own? To allow the most mundane, self-criticizing part of me rule my life?
I’m not saying that I’m not questioning and one should not be questioning to be happy. I’m saying that now I have room to be scared. About all of this. About the inability to truly know what sexuality is and the ability for it to change. To flow through life with purpose, conviction, and excitement. And curiosity! There are ways to do things with heart and ownership and acknowledgment of your partner(s) and their limits that is so beautiful and connected and intimate.
There is so much potential.
The thing is, I’m not fearless, but I’m full of curiosity. It is important to be courageous in your endeavors. To take the bull by the horns, examine the situation, and sometimes it suffices to just say fuck it and dive in. Be self-centered, not selfish. Take care of yourself and in turn, you’ll take care of others. You cannot love yourself 30% and expect to love someone else at 100%. The love that you give to others is a reflection of the love you give to yourself. And that’s the thing, how does this relate to sex and sexuality? It absolutely does. Because sex, to me, is not just about fucking. It’s a much more spiritual thing that can extend past physical intimacy. A sensuality in life. It translates. The ability to live so fully afraid of what’s to come but acknowledging fear and instead of running from it, using your voice and your innate power to lift yourself out of confusion and just say: I am here now. I am scared. And I am so fucking excited about it.
...I cannot wait.