From Sex Object to Feminine Sexual Being

I’ve always been highly interested in sex. From a young age I was both physically pretty and curious about sexuality, and society has always treated me as such. I’ve been determined my whole life to find a way to avoid being told it was “wrong”. Whatever it is; hyper-sexualty, psychological issues, sexually acting out,  it is still me. I have needed to find the answer to peacefully being a woman who is both sexual and treated fairly in a world that treats sexual women as animals.

My active interest in sex collides with the way I was raised and almost all women are raised; that sex serves the purpose of male gratification.

When I was a young queer, I went through a rollercoaster of identity issues due to the only standpoint I knew. I learned from an abusive misogynist father and a self-hating absent mother. When I was very young, I thought maybe I was actually a boy. This eventually evolved as I began to embrace my feminine appearance, and even moreso embrace my interest in women sexually. I was always a little boy crazy, but my masculine side and dominant sexuality drove me to be more interested in girls as partners, and often question my gender as well. I found myself to be an awful partner to other girls because I could not combine intimacy and sex. For that reason, however, I was of the utmost desire to males.

As I grew more distant from my father, I became more interested in relationships with men that were inevitably dysfunctional. I knew how to relate to men easily – through sex. Whereas with women, I had to offer some level of emotional vulnerability which was excruciating to me. I was finally escaping my awful and isolated childhood, and felt I was “finding myself.” However, what was really happening was a growing slavery to misogyny. Because I was highly sexual, I was safest with men. I could relate to them. I was always down to fuck and they provided the approval I desperately needed at that point in time.

Essentially I was told what to be. Accommodate male sexuality = gain affection and praise. I took the bait and I lived it, walked in my mother’s footsteps, rejecting anything that was too feminine or emotional.

This was all so much easier than confronting the sexual dysfunction that had been weaved within my development and personality. From day one, I have been trained to think that my body and my sexuality exists for men to take advantage of. My mother was intensely shaming of any sexuality I expressed, or even any emotional needs, while consistently placing herself as an object of sexual attention in social situations. It was highly confusing.

The thought of having my own requirements and guidelines for sex seemed repulsive, frigid, and shameful based on what I had been told. Even as I became older and entered the sex industry as a Dominatrix, I was still operating under the guidelines of extremely demanding submissive men, even though I was gaining some false sense of being in control. It still drained me, left me isolated and used up, and I quit the industry for a bit feeling confused about what was causing my strife.

Of course at that time I had entered a committed relationship with a man whom I’d met as a client. He was there to “save” me. Show me a better life. Really, I had been fine until he showed up and “helped open my eyes” to how the sex industry was harming me. At the tender age of 20, already a struggling single mother, I did not have the wisdom to see the hypocrisy of his patronage of the industry. I left the work to become a housewife, with the sun on my face and newfound purpose.

However, as you may have guessed, it was not the industry that was harming me. It was my slavery to misogyny. My perspective and poor boundaries.

It’s no surprise that my new marriage eventually left me feeling the same. Drained, used, isolated. I left the demanding sex industry behind to fall into a marriage with a man 21 years my senior, who was far more demanding and entitled than the hundreds of men I’d professionally catered to combined. Now that I had left the industry FOR him, I enabled the ideation that I was his property. Regardless of being in an “open” and “swinger” relationship, I was more enslaved than ever. I was now expected to remain as sexually driven as the day he met me, but only for him.

After years of being caged and poked and prodded, some blatant fetishization of my sexual trauma, and serious consent issues, I finally left.

From this point, I decided that perhaps I was going about this all wrong. Maybe I was actually sexully submissive and just denying myself a healthy fetishization of male dominance and instead allowing it to control me passively. I entered back into the sex industry, as well as the local fetish community, and was feeling free and happy and like myself again.

The fetish community is crawling with men ready and waiting with the right words for lusty females who have lost their way. I fell in lust with a “dominant” man who was everything that my previous partner was not. Tall, large, hairy, with suave and charm that overcame his mediocre looks. I threw myself completely into my slavery, and compartmentalized it in a BDSM relationship with this man that I dared trust.

None of these choices I made were inherently wrong. I had the best intentions for myself in mind, except that my awareness had not been fully developed and I was missing a key piece. I intended to embrace my sexuality. However, I was only letting the men around me embrace it on my behalf.

I still would not be able to truly look inward and recognize myself as a woman, with complexities and layers of desire, emotion, and sex. I was told that was unfavorable. It was not what men wanted. Having always been both pretty and openly sexual, I constantly had aggressive masculine forces telling me what my body and sexuality should be. I became addicted to the approval in lieu of real love. I was an object for males, not a female being of my own.

My determination to not stifle my own sexuality almost worked against me. I made myself vulnerable to male sexuality but not my own emotions and desires. I knew none of this was right, I shouldn’t have to hide, but I also shouldn’t have been in such awful situations.

My knight in dommley armor inevitably became extremely abusive. The line between BDSM and abuse faded, and I was too deep in. Six months in and I had my first ever black eye at the hands of a man. I’d experienced abuse, but not quite this type of brute violence. I stayed. I lost all my friends because I stayed. He was the embodiment of my slavery to misogyny that required my complete sacrifice of self. He tapped into all that made me weak, and it was his to toy with. Oddly this is the most sexually driven I’d been with a single partner, I believe because he was so emotionless and rejected me both sexually and emotionally regularly. I was so desperate for the same approval, and so I tolerated being beaten in place of having sex.

I learned a lot about misogynist sexuality during this time. His libido dropped as he became more abusive. His sexuality was not about sex. It was about control. As he lost it, he also lost his erections. What a fucking metaphor for it all.

I hate to say it, but none of this was clear until well after we broke up, and then he raped me.

It all came to a head, and I was finally confronted with the toxicity of misogyny throughout my entire sexual identity. I was so fucking confused. My libido disappeared. My emotional needs couldn’t coexist with my desire for sex. I was confronted with a real problem – a total lack of sexual identity that was replaced with trauma.

When I started writing this I didn’t even intend to get into all of this, but it is so fucking relevant.

I had never before taken the time to acknowledge myself as a woman instead of a sex object, until now. Emotions had no place in sex for me. In fact, sex has successfully served as a tool to keep me from sharing my emotions with other humans when I could instead fuck them.

It is devastating that I am not unique. I am a product of an environment and culture that does not allow women to blossom as unique sexual beings. This is how we are raising our sexual girls. We are conditioning them to become victims of sexual violence instead of having their female sexuality exist and embraced outside of the existence of male desire. Fathers and male authority figures molest the young girls, misogynist society shames and isolates the sexual teenaged young woman, and narcissists seek out and marry the injured grown woman for his own sexual gratification.

What an uphill battle for us. I’m still not there yet, but I’m learning and sharing, because this is a battle we should never have to fight in the first place.

The idea of requiring a mood to be set, music, candles, foreplay had all seemed ridiculous and demanding to me. I am learning that being an empowered sexual woman is not just demanding your right to be sexual, it is demanding your right to be a woman and also be sexual.

It’s all been horrifically scary to pursue. I must, and we all must, focus on turning the sense of vulnerability into empowerment.

As a woman, I demand more. I can choose to engage in kinky, filthy, nasty sex as I tend to desire, but that can coexist with my need to be treated as an emotional and spiritual being. I can even choose to serve men sexually, if it is my desire to be a sex object during sex. But it must be honored and acknowledged as my right to choose and never taken for granted.

I am not required to maintain a status quo. I have a right to change my mind, explore, and experiment.

I am a woman with a right to my sexuality, sensuality, and emotions. I do not exist to be victimized by abusive male sexuality. Anyone else who enjoys these benefits of my sex is simply a guest and I will promise myself to abruptly remove them without an apology if they try to dictate my terms instead of basking in it with me.

I’m still learning every day how to do this for myself. I’m a lover who thoroughly enjoys pleasing my partner, and I’m learning that does not mean to subdue my own natural desires. After all, I have said in the past that the best sex happens when you truly enjoy your primal sensual self. I can be at peace with whatever I need as a feminine being to achieve that.

Tonight I go on a date with my partner. I think afterwards, I’ll make a point to feel sexy, light candles, set  a mood, bask in aromas and incense. I’ll put on some lingerie. He will enjoy it, but it will be intended for me.

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