CHAPTER 6

FREAKSAND GEEKS

WELCOME TO THE SECOND HALF OF THE BOOK! HOW are you doing so far? Are you taking care of yourself, reaching out to positive supports in your life? Keeping tuned in to yourself through the daily writing, and exploring and affirming your right to pleasure through the weekly body love?

To whatever extent you are, great. And if you’re struggling with any of it, that’s okay, too. Don’t use this process to beat yourself up, please. Do use it to challenge yourself, to explore uncomfortable or even painful places in the interest of getting to what you really really want. If your internal critics get too loud, go back and reread the commitment you made to yourself at the beginning of this process. Remind yourself of what’s important here. But don’t make yourself feel bad. Because there are plenty of people and forces in the world who are too happy to do that work. Don’t help them.

Which brings me to the theme of this chapter. Whether in terms of the kind of sex we want to have, our sexual orientation, our “unconventional” body, a special ability or disability, a mental health issue, or anything else that violates people’s expectations of how a woman should look or behave, many of us feel like freaks and geeks in one way or another. I assure you, if you do, too, you are far from alone.

Oppression and discrimination are real and are reinforced every day by the most powerful institutions in our culture: the mass media, organized religion, medicine, governmental agencies, the legal system, and more. If you’ve internalized the belief that there’s something “wrong” with or “undesirable” about you, it’s probably because the world you live in sends you that message on a daily basis. That can make the freaky feelings painful and hard to overcome, but it doesn’t make them true. And there are things you can do to turn the volume down on them.

Starting in chapter 7, you’ll be focusing your attention on how to interact with others, how to ask them for what you want and tell them what you don’t want. How to build the partnered sex life you want. How to talk with friends and family about their role in supporting your healthy sexuality. And how to be a good partner, as well as friend and family member, to others. Probably, these are things you’re eager to delve into.

But healthy sexuality has to start with you. If you don’t believe in your own right to pleasure, your own desirability, and your own ability to give yourself pleasure, all of your interactions with others will be on their terms. Believe it or not, this chapter—the one about feeling too weird to be worthy—is your deep breath. A chance to get grounded and centered in your own sexuality before you invite anyone near it. And you may be guessing some of what that means: masturbation.

Stop for a second and check in with your body. How does that word make you feel? Excited, anxious, self-conscious, ashamed, aroused, repulsed? Masturbation can stir up some strong feelings, as Bobbie knows all too well:

I was raised as a strict Catholic in Boston. Around the age of nine or ten I began to fantasize about being kidnapped by women on horseback, and I rode out that fantasy through masturbation within the confines of my bathroom. We were always taught that what you did in the dark would show up in the light, so you can imagine my surprise after masturbating one day to find a stain in my panties. I promised God I would stop doing what was so obviously wrong if He would not tell my mother. The stain went away, but the desire didn’t. I did my own laundry to hide my shame and kept up the masturbating, thinking I had gotten away with it. I woke up one morning after a particularly good masturbation the night before to find blood everywhere in my bed. God was going to make me confess! Until my menses ended some forty years later, I was always hottest when my period came around.

It’s amazing how loaded the subject of masturbation can be, especially considering that it’s probably the least controversial sex act imaginable: It carries zero risk of disease or pregnancy or coercion, and a low risk of injury unless you’re doing something fancy. Since it doesn’t involve another person, you don’t have to worry about communication issues or whether or not your partner will respect you in the morning. And talk about enthusiastic consent! It’s not like you’re going to do it to please anyone besides yourself.

Maybe you’ve been masturbating since you were a child, and you’ve never not loved it. That’s awesome.

But still, masturbation is like the third rail of sex talk, especially when it comes to the subject of Girls Who Do It. Is there any clearer evidence that we still live in a culture that’s profoundly confused about female sexuality when it’s easier to talk about porn than about self-pleasure? Amazingly, the idea that we women not only have our own real desires, but can also satisfy them ourselves, still can seem shocking and disturbing to mainstream society.

Which is precisely my point: Masturbation is a powerful experience and one of the most central ways to explore what you really really want. So let’s bust some myths about it and send the Terrible Trio packing.

 

Myth: If you’re in a monogamous relationship, masturbation is the same as cheating.

Reality Check: Look, I’m not going to tell you what rules to set up in your own relationship. But I wouldn’t ever want to be in one where self-love was considered competition for partnered sex. First of all, in every relationship, libidos ebb and flow—your partner isn’t going to be able to meet your every need at every moment. And if you’ve agreed not to seek sexual satisfaction with other people, why shouldn’t you at least be able to scratch your itches yourself?

But honestly, my defense of jilling off, even when in a relationship, goes deeper than that. This is about you and your right to have whatever relationship with your body you want to—regardless of whether or not you’re in a relationship that involves somebody else’s body. Masturbation during a monogamous relationship is perfectly healthy and quite common, and it can go far in improving your sex life. Being practiced in what makes your body feel good, you’ll know how to direct your partner during sex together. If you need help in figuring out how to have a frank and open discussion about sexuality with a partner, no worries—we’ll get to that in chapter 7.

 

Myth: Only boys masturbate.

Reality Check: Historically, masturbation has been viewed as a coming-of-age milestone for boys, but not for girls. Quite the reverse, actually—in Victorian England, a woman who orgasmed was considered a sexual deviant. Thankfully, we’ve come a long way since then. A 2008 study out of the United Kingdom found that 92 percent of the eighteen- to thirty-year-old women surveyed masturbate, and over 65 percent do it two or three times a week. So when I say you’re not alone? You really aren’t.

Facts aside, there’s nothing that will convince you quite like trying it. So let’s talk about how to do it.

Let me start by telling you a little story to settle your nerves. I had a boyfriend in high school who loved me very much, and whom I loved back just as much. We lusted after each other constantly and fooled around whenever we could. And, as luck would have it, he was nearly as invested in my pleasure as he was in his own. (This is a great quality in a partner—don’t leave home without it.)

Why am I telling you this? Because I never had an orgasm with him. I faked it constantly, because I knew it was important to him that I had them. But I didn’t know how, and I was too embarrassed to say so. Besides, I was having a great time in bed with him, and I didn’t know what I was missing, so I didn’t miss it. So I lied. Over and over and over again.

We broke up when he went off to college, and then I went to college, too. I fooled around with a number of guys, but still—no orgasm. I’d given up trying, really, thinking it was maybe just something my particular body didn’t do. Then, in the spring of my junior year, I mentioned to a (platonic) girlfriend that I’d never reached the big O. And she was like, well, have you tried to give yourself one?

The thing about me and masturbation up until that point was this: I’d kinda done it, but I kinda hadn’t. I remember from a young age that it felt good to touch myself “down there.” Sometimes, as a kid, I’d linger my fingers there when I wiped myself in the bathroom. I could lose myself in those lovely rubbing sensations long enough that my mother would wonder what was taking me so long. As I grew up, the rubbing moved to the bedroom, but if you’d asked me if I masturbated, I would have said no. It was more of an idle pastime, something I would indulge in when my hand would first brush my labia for more innocent reasons, like putting on underwear or climbing into bed. If that brush felt good and I had time, I’d rub a little while. But I never once thought to myself: Now I am going to give myself sexual pleasure. Not because I thought there was anything wrong with doing that, it just literally never occurred to me. No one ever spoke to me about it—as far as I knew, I knew no females who did it. Not until that spring of my junior year, when my friend insisted it was the best thing ever.

That night, I did as she’d suggested. I closed the door to my bedroom, grabbed some oil, and got comfortable. And then I rubbed in a new way, with intention. I explored what types of touch in what places made sensation more or less intense, what rhythms made that intensity build or slowed it. I took my time. I let my mind wander. And then I let it clear as I focused all of my attention on the pleasure expanding from my clitoris. I relaxed into the tension until it felt deliciously unbearable. And then, to my life-changing astonishment, I allowed that swelling pressure to break open and explode and convulse and radiate up through my body until I had gooseflesh and the tip of my nose was tingling.

After that, I never once faked an orgasm ever again. Not only is lying toxic to a relationship, but I don’t want to cheat myself out of that experience, or give a lover misleading information about what gets me off. More important, since then, I’ve always made the time to masturbate, because it’s free and it’s good for me and it makes me feel great. There aren’t enough things in the world you can say all three things about, so I try not to deny myself the ones that I find. This week, I’m going to ask that you don’t, either.

Dive In: As you spend this week bringing some healing to the parts of you that feel freaky and undesirable, I want you to affirm the opposite every single day via the act of self-love. Regardless of whether you have other sexual partners, I want you to set aside time every single day, for the next seven, to give sexual pleasure to yourself, by yourself.

How you do it is up to you. Vibrators, fingers, whatever you prefer. And orgasms don’t have to be the point, but it should feel as explicitly sexual as you can handle. Maybe you’ll think about fantasies or past experiences that turn you on. Maybe you’ll just focus on the physical sensations. What matters is you, giving yourself sexual pleasure, every day this week. If you want more in-depth advice, I highly recommend Betty Dodson’s classic book Sex for One.

If you’re already a practiced masturbator, use this week to explore new approaches, the way Buffy did:

I’ve pretty much masturbated the same way and thought about the same kind of stuff forever. So I took this as an opportunity to try different methods, and different positions, and different tools and toys, and stuff to break up the monotony. I’ve realized after this week that masturbation had become really monotonous for me, almost like my sex life with myself needed some spicing up. It was really nice to explore my sexuality in a way I hadn’t let myself before.

TRIGGER FINGERS

Sometimes masturbation can bring up uncomfortable feelings or bad memories. Maybe you’ve internalized the message that it’s wrong, and can’t shake that feeling. Maybe you’ve been shamed for being sexual, and this reminds you of that feeling. Maybe you’ve been sexually violated in some way, and this brings back those feelings. Maybe you don’t even know why. There’s nothing wrong with you if that happens. Sexual pleasure can feel really loaded, depending on our histories, and a lot of that history is lodged in our bodies. You may feel fine just thinking about sexual pleasure, but experiencing it can be a whole different ball of wax, for reasons you may not even understand at first.

These sudden negative responses are often called “triggers,” because they can come on suddenly and without much provocation and trigger an overwhelming bad feeling. Here’s what author Staci Haines has to say about them in her book, Healing Sex:

The idea of embracing your triggers may seem counterintuitive at first. You may feel uncomfortable and unsettled with this way of dealing with triggers, yet I have seen its effectiveness time and time again. Instead of avoiding and moving away from triggers, you can begin to move toward and into them . . . When you move yourself toward and into a trigger, you have the opportunity to then process the material and move through it. In doing this you can release the trigger from your body, emotions, and mind and be complete with it. Triggers act as signposts to what is in need of healing. They guide you on the road to freedom.

Of course, as much as I agree with Haines that you ultimately want to move into a trigger the way you steer into a curve if you’re skidding in a car, you’ll want to take good care of yourself while you’re doing it. You don’t have to do it all at once. If you’re dealing with triggers, or suspect this daily masturbation may be triggering, try to let supportive friends and/ or counselors know that you may need them a little more right now. Make a plan for how best to take care of yourself, whether that’s upping the amount of time you spend on nonsexual body love, talking it out with someone, or employing other strategies.

“When I get triggered,” says Elizabeth, age forty-one, “I remove myself from the triggering source, then go hold an ice cube in my hand until the sensation of cold redirects my mind. I’ll also talk to a friend if there’s someone available.”

If you find you need more support dealing with your triggers than this brief section can provide, I highly recommend checking out Haines’s book, The Survivors’ Guide to Sex, and/or the classic healing workbook, Ellen Bass’s The Courage to Heal. Even if you don’t identify as a survivor of sexual violence, these books are a treasure trove of information, exploration, and support for those of us for whom sex sometimes feels emotionally painful.

So. Start your engine. Masturbation Week has begun. Thus fortified by self-pleasuring, let’s figure out how to deal with your freaky, geeky feelings. The ones that tell you you’re too fat, too skinny, too young, too old, too queer, too trans, too dark, too mixed, too poor, too kinky, too foreign, too inexperienced, too damaged, too weak, too aggressive, too depressed, too smart, too stupid, too successful, too much of a failure, too . . . well, too too to be desired in any good way.

We’re going to help you heal those feelings not just because you deserve healing, but because living in that place can be unhealthy at best, dangerous at worst. As Zeinab puts it:

I was never really desired by anybody in my school, and in college, that sort of continued. And when I go out with my friends, I’m never approached, so in the rare moments when someone does talk to me, there’s always this thought in my head: Oh, this person’s talking to me. They might find me sexually attractive. So there have been times when . . . even if I wasn’t interested in a person, just the fact that they were interested in me was something that piqued my interest. And I end up doing things that I regret later, because I feel like it’s my only chance to experience something sexually.

MAKING FRIENDS WITH YOUR FEELINGS

Just like our intuition, women’s feelings are much maligned. We’re assumed to be extremely “emotional,” and our voices and opinions are routinely dismissed because of these much-hyped feelings. This often leaves us with a wary and fraught relationship with our own feelings—especially the “negative” ones, like anger and grief and sadness and frustration. On the other hand, we are welcome to have “positive” emotions, because those always seem to benefit others, don’t they? We’re admonished to “smile” by strangers on the street, expected to be sweet and cheerful in social situations, and encouraged to never let our less-than-happy moods show, lest it bring anybody down. In short, be Mary Poppins or any number of Disney heroines.

Becca, age twenty-six, has struggled with her feelings for years: “I have a stubborn belief that I should be able to think my feelings into other feelings. Like, if I don’t like being angry or sad, that if I feel strongly enough about it, I should be able to change it. And that’s not true. That’s been a lesson I’ve had to learn over and over again. Willpower isn’t enough.”

Feelings—even the “bad” ones—can be your friend. They give you key information about what you want more of, and what you’ve had quite enough of, thank you very much. They can tune you in to moments when you need to focus more on self-care—like when you’re cranky and, when you stop to think about it, you realize it’s because you haven’t eaten all day. They can also guide you out of stuck places you can’t “think” your way out of, like a relationship that just doesn’t feel right, even though “on paper” everything looks fine.

What’s more, there’s no cure for them but to feel them. As Winston Churchill once said, “If you’re going through hell, keep going.” In other words, our tendency is to freeze up and resist when we feel painful feelings. But that’s exactly how to keep them around longer. If you want difficult feelings to give way to easier ones, the best way to do that, counterintuitive though it may seem, is to give those challenging emotions the attention they require. (Sound like the advice on triggers earlier? There’s a good reason for that.)

So if you’re feeling angry/sad/frustrated/self-conscious about being you in all your freaky geekdom, and not someone else for whom sexuality seems a whole lot easier, the first thing to do is just feel that. That feeling is real, and it’s yours, but it won’t last forever. It sure seems like it will. It feels like if you let yourself start crying, you’ll cry forever. Or if you let yourself experience the rage that you’ve been trying to suppress, you’ll smash the whole world in. I’ve been there. I know. And the only thing that ever helps is taking a leap of faith and letting the feeling come anyhow. Given enough time and expression, the feeling always shifts. It fades or morphs or dissipates or mellows or evolves. It doesn’t stay the same.

But how do you feel your feelings? How do you feel them in ways that are healing and not hurtful? Here are a few guidelines:

Always Remember That Feelings Aren’t Facts

Just because something feels awful doesn’t mean it’s actually bad for you. For example, the idea of moving in with your partner might feel really scary. That could be because it’s not the right thing for you, or it could be because it reminds you of some similar dynamic, like the time you moved in with someone else and later discovered they’d been cheating on you the whole time. Or the time your father left when you were a kid.

Instead of thinking of your feelings as fact, think of them as clues that can lead you to something important to know about yourself. Just the same way that physical sensations can mean any number of things—dangerous drugs can make you feel great in the short term, and having a broken bone reset so it can heal can be excruciatingly painful—so can your emotions. Anger can mean that someone has violated your trust, or it can mean that you’re with someone you trust deeply enough that you feel free to experience the full power of your emotions with them. The crucial thing is to pay attention, and to do your best to sort out what your feelings are trying to tell you.

Don’t Indulge Feelings About Your Feelings

If you’re heartbroken that someone you love left you, it’s easy to get so caught up feeling angry at yourself for having trusted them that you don’t give yourself space to just feel the heartbreak and grieve for the relationship. That’s a perfect recipe for staying stuck. If you want to move through your feelings, the first thing to do is accept that they exist. Say to yourself, “I’m feeling heartbroken right now. I accept that.” As they say in Star Trek: Resistance is futile.

Reach Out

It’s easy to let our difficult feelings isolate us. We fear we’ll be judged or misunderstood if we express them to someone. But isolation can make painful emotions fester and mutate and grow. Using your intuition, as well as what you consciously know about your friends and family, pick one or two confidants who you have good reason to believe will handle your feelings with care, and then ask if they’re willing to talk. The goal here isn’t to come up with solutions, it’s to express your feelings and have them witnessed by someone else. That simple act can make them feel more manageable and help you feel less alone. If you can’t find anyone close to you to talk with, try Befrienders.org—the site will help you find a hotline in your area where you can reach volunteers trained to listen to difficult emotions.

Remember That Actions Have Consequences

It’s fine (and sometimes awesome!) to let your feelings motivate you to act, but emotions aren’t a get-out-of-jail-free card, either literally or figuratively. If you lash out at someone, they’re probably going to be hurt or angry or both. If you are physically violent to yourself or someone else, there may be real medical or legal consequences. If you blow off work because you don’t feel up to getting out of bed, you may get reprimanded or fired.

There’s Nothing Wrong with “Being Emotional”

This is a hard one to undo, because you’ve probably been taught the opposite over and over. You know, crying is a sign of weakness, angry women are strident harpies, outspoken women are bitchy. Whatever the stereotype, most of us have been dismissed (or threatened with dismissal) because of our feelings. But your feelings can be a superpower! Knowing and embracing them can give you clarity like nothing else, and that’s the kind of clarity that can get you to what you really really want, both in sex and in life in general. After all, you can’t express your desires or boundaries until you know what they feel like. Think of feelings like a spigot in a sink: There’s just one on/off valve. If you close off anger, you’re closing off your ability to feel joy and satisfaction and pleasure, too. Instead, open the spigot a little at a time, and learn to manage the flow. The energy of your emotions can be like a power plant for your whole life.

Dive In: Meditation is a really fantastic way to make friends with your feelings. Try this very simple practice: In a quiet place, sit upright (if you can) in a comfortable but engaged position. For many people, that’s with their legs crossed, possibly with a pillow under their butt. Or invent your own position. Be sure to do what you need to support your position so that it’s as close to pain-free as possible. Now close your eyes and breathe deeply, slowly, through your nose. Focus on your breath. Feel the air come in, feel it release. Over and over. If thoughts or feelings arise, notice them, but don’t attach. Imagine that they’re clouds floating through the sky. Don’t worry about what the clouds mean. They’re clouds. Don’t worry if they’ll stay or go or change—you know they’ll morph and eventually disappear. Try doing this for ten minutes, and then whenever you notice yourself becoming overwhelmed by or struggling against your emotions.

And if your feelings themselves are what make you feel like a freak, well, you’re not alone.

STRONG IN THE BROKEN PLACES

If you think of yourself as a little different or off-kilter in ways that relate to your sexuality, or at least your ability to be sexual with a partner, you are not alone. I don’t think I know a single woman who doesn’t feel that way. Whether you’ve got a mental illness like anxiety or depression that affects your libido or your ability to deal with people, or you have a history of sexual trauma, or an eating disorder, or an addiction, or your history has taught you some twisted things about sex and relationships, or even if you have suffered more than your fair share of heartbreak and it’s left you twitchy and mistrustful, it’s easy to convince yourself you’re too “damaged” to find satisfying sexual partners. That no one will want to do the work required to be with you, because they could be with any number of infinitely “simpler” women.

Whatever the case, it’s important not to confuse this feeling with truth, and I’ll tell you why:

Everybody Has Issues

No, seriously. Even that perfect-seeming woman your ex left you for, with the perfect hair and the perfect life and the perfect friends and the perfect career saving puppies from certain death. I’ll tell you a secret about her: She’s not perfect. When you compare your insides to someone’s outsides, it’s never a fair fight. In other words, we all try to present our best self to the world. I’m amazed sometimes by the people who think I have it all together. Because, boy howdy, if you spent a few days as a fly on my wall, you’d know differently. I’m not even going to tell you what you’d see, because I’m afraid you’d judge me for it. Which is the point. So when you imagine there are all of those “simple” people out there who are so much less messed up than you, it’s at least 50 percent bunk. Some people are just better at hiding their messes than others. And sometimes the folks who hide them well are the most messed-up in the end.

Even so, maybe you have more “issues” than the average woman. That’s possible—if there’s a bell curve of “messed up,” some of us have got to be on the more-messed-up tail of it. Let’s say for the sake of argument that you are. Well, your potential partners will be different, too. I’m not saying that you should look for someone with similar issues, because it’s hard to even make those equations anyhow. But just like there are people out there attracted to women of all shapes and sizes, there are also people out there who find the “simpler” or so-called “normal” people a little boring or unchallenging but really spark with people who are more complicated, or who’ve lived a little more, or who’ve had to face challenges and learn how to deal with the real world.

If you’ve got challenging issues, it may make getting what you really really want harder, because you’ve got extra feelings to manage for yourself and extra needs and boundaries to negotiate with your partners. And you may require greater levels of trust with a partner than the “less messed-up” people do, because you may want to have some clue they can handle what you’re dealing with before you get down with them.

On the other hand, the skills you’re learning in order to manage whatever your particular issues are can also be an asset in sexual connections. In A Farewell to Arms, Ernest Hemingway wrote, “The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places.” Odds are, that describes you in more ways that you know. The places where we’re broken are often places we’ve developed special muscles. Sometimes those muscles are literal—if your legs are weak, you may have developed strong arms to help you get around, and those strong arms can be a real asset when it comes to holding a lover close. (And they may be a turn-on to a girl like me, who has a preference for strong shoulders.) Sometimes your arms are stronger metaphorically—you’ve had to develop really great communication skills in order to stick up for yourself around whatever makes you feel freaky, and those communication skills can be put to great use in the sack. Or you’ve developed a strong empathy for other freaky people, and that helps potential partners feel safe with you. Maybe dealing with obstacles has forced you to become more creative, and that makes you a more creative lover.

Becca knows both sides of this:

My transgender identity has definitely impacted both my sexual experiences and how I think about sex. On the frustrating end, it’s meant I’ve been bombarded with messages about the “abnormality” of my body and my desire to be sexual: chicks with dicks, she-males, and the like. On the other hand, being trans has given me the opportunity to think lots more about my gender and sexual expression than I think most folks do. And it’s left me very in touch with my desires, both for my physicality and for sexual interaction. I’m still working on communicating those desires, but I think even simply acknowledging them is a big step in the right direction.

In the end, it’s important to make room for both truths: There are things about you that make life harder that you can’t change. And dealing with those things, navigating through a world that discriminates against you because of them, has given you skills and powers that people who have it “easier” may never attain.

Dive In: Get a large piece of paper or even poster board. On it, write in big, bold letters a word or words that describe the ways you feel “freaky.” Get real: Use the words that stir up the strongest feelings in you, both positively and negatively (fat, loud, ugly, badass, weak, dark, shy, gross, etc.). Add images, colors, symbols—whatever ways you want to represent the parts of you that feel undesirable or “other.” Take your time. Make it feel as complete as you can.

When it feels done, sit down and just look at it for a while. Feel your feelings. Don’t try to control them, but don’t act on them right now, either. Just feel them. Notice them. Welcome them.

Next, write for ten minutes about the ways the qualities or circumstances you’ve represented on your poster have made sexuality harder for you. Don’t try to play anything down. Nothing is too minor or major here.

Now, if you can, get out a candle, place it in front of your poster, and light it. As you watch the flame, allow yourself to grieve for the opportunities for pleasure you’ve lost or never had, because of the way the world treats your “difference.” Let yourself feel loss, or anger, or helplessness, or whatever you feel. Do this for as long as you like, for at least ten minutes. Resist the impulse to try to cheer yourself up. But welcome acceptance of your feelings and circumstances if it comes.

When you’re ready, get out your notebook again and write for ten minutes about the skills and powers you’ve developed to help negotiate your “difference” in the world, and how you do or could apply those powers to your sexual interactions. Ignore any voices in your head telling you it won’t work. Be creative. Be hopeful. Be idealistic.

When you’re done with that, blow out the candle, but leave the poster up somewhere where you’ll see it every day for a week. Notice your feelings every time you look at it. Try not to judge or change your feelings—whatever they are, they’re the right ones.

At the end of the week, you can do whatever you want with the poster. Burn it. Drown it. Chop it to bits. Fold it away somewhere so you can take it out and look at it when you want. Leave it up as a powerful reclamation of your freakiness. Hang it in a museum. It’s entirely up to you.

THE WRONG REASONS

Sometimes the issue isn’t whether someone wants you or not. It’s whether or not they want you for the right reasons. Which begs the question: What are reasons you want to be desired sexually, and what are reasons that make you feel bad?

It’s not a trick question. For some people, it goes back to the conversation about love that we started in the last chapter. If you want to have sex only in the context of a love relationship, then “you turn me on” is a wrong reason to be wanted. “I love you and I think you’re beautiful inside and out” is probably a right reason. On the other hand, if you’re not looking for anything serious, “I want to cherish every inch of you, and only you, till death do us part” can be a totally wrong reason to be desired, but “you are so incredibly hot” might be a great one. It all depends on what you really really want.

But there’s a deeper, more twisted kind of Wrong Reason, which has everything to do with feeling like a freak. Whether it’s our big butts, our dark skin, our queer or transgender identity /body, our age, or any number of things, many of us have had experiences with people who made us feel like even less than the sum of our parts. Some people call this “fetishizing,” some others call it “othering” or “objectifying,” but whatever you call it, it can feel really bad. Like you’re no longer a person, you’re just whatever the “freaky” or “different” part of you symbolizes to the person who wants you.

Don’t get me wrong—we all have tastes. Some of us like curvier, plusher bodies, and some like firmer ones. Some are more drawn to creamy skin, and some to caramel. As I mentioned earlier, I’m a sucker for strong shoulders. There’s nothing wrong with having preferences. But I’ve had plenty of lovers with average-to-weak shoulders, because shoulders aren’t the only thing I care about. Where it veers into Wrong Reason territory is when a partner is so focused on a particular preference that we feel reduced to that one quality. And it’s especially charged when that quality is something that has been used to take power away from us, something that has made us feel weird or different or “other” throughout our lives, like our race or our sexual orientation.

What’s especially insidious about this fetishizing kind of Wrong Reason is that it can become a generalized fear that no one will ever want you as a whole person. And when that happens, you can easily wind up closing yourself off to people who may want you for completely awesome reasons, because you’re afraid of encountering the Wrong Reasons.

For Zeinab, that means:

When I think about approaching someone, I’m always second-guessing myself because I’m basically at the bottom when it comes to racial hierarchies in this country. So why should I even bother talking with someone when I feel like the chances of them being interested in the real me are slim to none? And if they are interested in me, is it because of a legitimate reason?

There are no easy solutions here, but there are a few ways to help you sort out whether someone wants you for you, or for something you symbolize to them. Depending on how well you know them, you could just ask. But there’s always the chance that they may not be aware they’re treating you like a symbol. It may be completely unintentional, and you may or may not be able to help them see it. (And you may or may not be willing to put in the effort required to try.) What matters is how it feels to you: Do you feel like you get to be a whole, complex person with them? Or do you feel boxed in, stereotyped, or extra-freaky? If it’s any of the latter qualities, and you either can’t or don’t want to work through it with the person, it may be time to move on. Because choosing to stay with someone who makes you feel bad about yourself—even if they don’t mean to—is sending yourself the message that you deserve to feel bad about yourself.

On the flip side, try to notice those lovers or potential lovers who are attracted to more than one thing about you. Sure, maybe your queerness is a turn-on for them, but so are your laugh and your hazel eyes. As you spend more time together and reveal different sides of yourself, are they more attracted, or are they trying to shove you back into the box they think you belong in? Don’t get hung up on whether or not they’re hot for some part of you that makes you feel freaky—pay attention to whether or not that’s the only part they’re into, or the biggest part.

As fat activist Brian Stuart puts it (he’s talking about love, not sexual attraction, here, but the point remains the same):

Our culture creates a false choice between being loved for something and being loved in spite of it. Loving someone for a trait is often framed as a negative, especially fat, while the other is exalted as a virtue. But why is loving someone “in spite of” who they are at all honorable? That’s not a good thing. It’s about enforcing cultural standards, not true love.

I figure there are two less objectionable variants of these standards. You can love someone with genuinely no regard to something so it’s not something you are explicitly martyring yourself over, as in the “in spite of” construction. Or you can love someone inclusive of, where there is a genuine attraction to a specific trait but that is not the entirety of the attraction.

Dive In: Take out your timeline, and add in times when you’ve felt like a symbol or fetish object to someone else. Then pick one of those incidents and write about it. What was it that the person did or said that inspired those feelings? Do you think they knew they were making you feel that way? Do you think they cared? How did you handle the situation? How do you wish you’d handled it? How do you think you’d handle it if it happened today?

GET INTO THE DRIVER’S SEAT

In the end, the number one best way to stop worrying that no one will want you, or no one will want you for the right reasons, is to stop thinking of yourself as an abandoned pet in a rescue shelter, waiting for someone to pick you, and start thinking of yourself as a whole person who gets to do picking of her own. In other words: Instead of wondering if one trait or another of yours will prevent anyone from wanting to be with you, start focusing on what traits you want in a lover.

For some of us, this is obvious. For others, it’s a daunting task, because we’ve never let ourselves entertain such an idea before. For still others, it feels dangerous, because being sexually proactive—being the chooser as opposed to the chosen—is something we’ve learned we’re never supposed to do. But now you know how to manage your feelings if they come up, so go ahead and do that, and let’s proceed.

There are a lot of ways to approach this question, some of which have to do with the work you did in the last chapter. If you’re searching primarily for a long-term, monogamous life partner, you’ll probably have different criteria than someone who’s looking for a reliable friend with benefits. But in general, there are four categories to think about when considering what makes a good lover for you:

Appearance

It’s okay to get a little superficial! Physical attraction matters, and you’re allowed to be choosy. Do you find yourself drawn to strong shoulders, soft curves, or striking eyes? What kind of posterior is your preference? Gender factors in here, too: Some of us are attracted more to masculinity, some to femininity, some to androgyny or genderqueerness. It’s all okay. You’ll probably find that the more deep and lasting a partner you’re looking for, the less this will matter, but you don’t have to pretend you don’t care!

Character

What is the person you’re looking for like on the inside? What principles (if any!) guide their behavior? And do they actually act according to these principles, or do they merely talk a good game and behave otherwise? This category includes things like honesty and loyalty, but also religious and political beliefs, and social attitudes, too.

Circumstances

Does your ideal partner have a job? What kind of lifestyle do they lead? How much money do they make? Do they live close by or far away? The circumstances in which someone lives their life can really impact a relationship, and you get to decide which ones are ideal for you, which ones you can work with, and which ones just won’t fly.

Skills and Talents

We all get dealt a different hand when it comes to what we’re capable of, and we all need partners who contribute different things. Is it important that your sexual partners are funny? Smart? Good dancers? Sweet with children? Great at communication? This is where you can get specific about bedroom skills, too: How talented does your partner need to be in the sack, and what qualifies as sexual talent to you?

Once you figure out what qualities you want in a partner, it’s time to add another layer of choosiness: How important is each quality to you? Because, let’s get real, nobody’s perfect, and you’re unlikely to find someone who simultaneously checks all of your boxes. Maybe you’d love to have a partner who is really athletic, but you wouldn’t rule out someone who was less active. On the other hand, it may be a total deal breaker if your partner doesn’t like to read. Get clear on what’s cake vs. what’s icing, and you’ll be steering yourself toward what you really really want before you know it.

Dive In: Make a list of all the characteristics your ideal partner would have. Be sure to list at least five things in each of the four major categories above. Now, mark each of those characteristics with a “1” if it’s a must-have, top-tier, deal-breaker kind of priority; a “2” if it’s pretty important but you’d be willing to compromise on it if most of the other important stuff were in place; and a “3” if that characteristic would be nice to have in a sexual partner but hardly is mandatory.

Now, think about your last few sexual partners (or even just people you’ve been seriously attracted to). How do they measure up? Did you get with them (or want to) because they’re what you really really want, or for some other reason (like, they wanted you and you didn’t feel like you could pass up the opportunity)?

Don’t expect your lists to stay set in stone. Many factors can change them, so it’s a good idea to redo them every so often. Prerna learned that through experience.

I’m currently in a long-distance relationship. If you had asked me before if I would ever purposely choose to be in a long-distance relationship, I don’t think I would have said yes. And if it was anyone else, I probably wouldn’t say yes. But because of this specific relationship, and this specific person, I was able to make where he lives be a three, whereas if you’d asked me several months ago, it would’ve been a one. I was able to move that down on the list because of how high his other qualities are on my list.

Go Deeper:

1. Write an ad for yourself. Not a personal ad designed to “sell” you to a prospective partner, but an ad that focuses on what’s really great about you. Ads too often are demeaning to women, concentrating on features such as appearance and sexual invitation, but they don’t have to be. This gives you an important challenge: to think through what you have to offer the world out there.

So start by listing all the things that make you a great person. Maybe you are loyal or funny. Maybe you make a great lasagna. You’re a good listener. Your lips are really cute and expressive. Build your ad from there, and list every little thing that is cool about you. You know yourself better than anyone, but if you need help, feel free to ask trusted friends to help design your ad.

(Bonus points if you’re single and you’d like to meet someone for sex and/or a relationship, but you’ve been reluctant to put yourself out there: Once you’ve finished your ad, go ahead and turn it into a real one on an online dating site! This isn’t an ad to attract someone who might “pick” you; it’s a way to expand your choices and make it possible to do picking of your own. Don’t stop until you’ve completed every field, even if you have to ask a friend for help. Remember, you don’t have to say yes to anyone just because they email you (or even if you email them and change your mind). Just create some new options for yourself, and take notice of how the process feels. Do you feel afraid? Of what? Do a risk assessment on that fear, using the tools we learned in chapter 4.)

2. Every product comes with a care manual. Write one. What things make you keep going, and keep you happy and satisfied? What instructions can you give yourself for daily maintenance, or an annual service? Go wild, and shoot for the stars—from bubble baths to long hikes, from credit for your accomplishments to phone calls with friends to, yes, even sexual pleasure, list all the things that make you happy and contented.

3. Create a new you. Ever wish you could try out life from inside someone else’s skin? If you have access to an Internet connection, you can. Visit an alternate-reality digital world like The Sims (www.wyrrw.com/sims) or Second Life¹ (www.wyrrw.com/secondlife), and create an avatar (that’s a digital representation of you) that you think looks both powerful and desirable. Now, try interacting with other avatars in that world. If you feel up to it, try out some behaviors that are outside of your comfort zone—flirt openly if you’re usually too shy; set forceful boundaries if that doesn’t come easily to you in “real life.” Play. See how it feels. How much do you feel like a different person, and how much do you still feel like you? How do people respond to you, and how does that match up with how you expect them to respond?