Sex and Self-Harm

Sex and self-harm can often go hand in hand, even out of the sphere of sexual abuse. The first time I cut myself I was 18, I etched the word worthless into my arm with a needle. That began my love affair with self-mutilation.

It was my drug, my fix, it made me feel better than any man ever could. Because of years of sleeping around I was disconnected from myself, and my emotions. I did not know how to cope,or feel anything like a real person would. I was forever stuck in this role as a real, live sex toy. All the pain I felt, all the words I could not express, I took out on my skin. My scars speak when I can’t find the words to.

I worked at a very popular lingerie store and I met a girl there that cut herself too. She used sex as a means of getting a guy to commit to her, but it never quite worked out that way. A girl in my class also cut herself, and she slept around too.  When I hung around the pimp/ prorn producer I saw a girl drunk, dancing in the living room of some random apartment with scars all over her arm, just like me. Sex and self-harm is prevalent.

After half a decade of sleeping around, I needed to be drunk to have sex, or I needed to be high. It stopped feeling good. I couldn’t feel anything but I reveled in the male attention. After all, having sex was better than being alone, or being bored? Right? Needing to be under the influence of any type of mind altering substance to perform sexual activities with a man is self harm.The escorts do it, the women in porn do it, and if you have been having casual sex long enough you probably do it too, we all need something to take the edge off.

Because I slept around so much I had to be perfect physically. I starved myself because I wanted to be a fantasy.I had to maintain the flat stomach, the 19 inch thighs with a little space in between them. I basked in the glory of what some men thought was physical perfection. I never starved myself to the point of death, or it being too obvious. I starved myself to the point where I couldn’t sleep at night because I was so hungry and, my stomach would get swollen every time I ate.  I got a high off of being hungry. That is self-harm. No woman should have to starve herself for sex. Doesn’t casual sex sound liberating and empowering?

Some would say that my experience with casual sex wasn’t so bad. I got a long term relationship out of it. I got proposed to. I had numerous boyfriends. I went to marvelous parties. I met a few famous people. Superficially, it doesn’t sound so bad. It actually sounds fun, maybe to some.

But if you stripped me naked you would see my scars. Ugly, dark, and permanent like the constant turmoil inside my mind. How could I have been hurting myself for almost a decade? Even after I stopped sleeping around I couldn’t really stop.

The cutting began six months into my relationship with the man I am still with now. When I stopped jumping from man to man is when it caught up to me. Sleeping with multiple men was my way from running from rejection, it was my escape, it was my band aid, the thing that got me through a lonely night, it made me numb to the world, and it was the action that stroked my ego. 

Casual sex can be used as self-harm. If you’re having sex because you feel that you have no other option that is self-harm. Sex with a random guy because you feel worthless is self-harm. Sex is not meant to hurt you emotionally.Sex is not supposed to be a punishment.

My scars remind me that I am human. I am more than more than a sex toy. I can hurt and I can bleed. They remind me that I have feelings and having emotions is okay. They remind me that I am alive.

If you are struggling with self-harm, there is help. It’s not easy, but you will heal and recover. Your scars only show your tenacity, and that you got over a really hard time in your life. 

Help : http://www.selfinjury.com

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds,” Psalm 147:3. Jesus is always an option. If no one else wants you He does,scars and all.

Advertisements

What is Casual Sex?

 

I keep reading about  this Gold star sticker sex.  The author states that,” “It’s to emphasize that every day, women in their twenties have meaningful, intimate, sober, relationship-enhancing sex that is also (gasp!) casual.”  I am totally and utterly confused behind the logic behind her argument.It’s not rational and it does not make sense. She mentions words such as intimate, and meaningful, and I would ask her how is that casual? What is casual about intimacy?  How can something casual have meaning? Relationship enhancing? I’m not so sure about, but does it change the relationship? Of course. By her emphasis alone I can tell that she is not describing casual sex. I am grateful that she mentions that she is not giving out advice, because if she was, this would be very bad advice. Gold star sticker sex should coming with a warning label.

What is casual sex?

  • Casual sex is shallow
  • Casual sex lacks depth, emotion, and commitment
  • Casual sex is selfish
  • Casual sex is self-centered

It’s that simple. Not complicated. No meaning behind it, it’s just sex.

When you, as a woman engage in casual sex it should not be to reward your friend,or any random man, it should be to reward yourself. She talks about rewarding her guy friends with sex, it’s her seal of approval.  This woman is blatantly telling the world “I am having sex to please the man, reward the man,and I must have super pussy powers because sex with me is a reward.”   I would say to the woman who is considering casual sex,or trying out gold star sticker sex  that this is real life,this is not Sex and the City,  Grey’s Anatomy or a soap opera.

I wonder if her husband was a man that she had gold star sticker sex with? How many gold stars did she have to give out until she met her husband? And if gold star sticker sex was so enhancing, and meaningful, then why did she get married?  (She got married two years after having this “rewarding, meaningful, intimate sex”), if it was so great, then why stop?

This woman had what she thinks is casual sex, fine. Her truth is not my truth and that is fine too. But I have a strong feeling that she is not being 100 percent honest about all of her experiences with her gold star sticker sex. In my opinion she is not being honest about her intentions behind having casual sex. Clearly, she is giving sex to get intimacy. She obviously didn’t want to settle for just moments of fleeting intimacy because she got married.

What she is describing sounds like open relationships, and from that I can see that she wanted a relationship, and the fact that she is married well, that speaks for itself. Maybe she was afraid of commitment? but I don’t think that’s the case. Or maybe she was afraid of rejection?  She describes wanting all the facets of a monogamous relationship with these men, the intimacy, the meaningfulness, but she doesn’t ask for a commitment. Friends with benefits seems like the easy way to get all the emotional gooiness of a relationship without the fear of rejection, but often times someone does get rejected.

Gold star sticker sex proves that there is nothing casual about sex. She mentions being best friends with the men that she has slept with and giggling over the sex they have had, and I wonder how comfortable her husband is with this? Weird??  Yes.

Having sex to reward someone is an action done with intent, therefore, there is nothing casual about gold star sticker sex and sex in general. It’s sad that this woman has reduced herself to nothing more than what she has between her legs and I would tell her that she in her entirety is a reward not just her vagina.  

Do you really want to have gold star sticker sex? Is sex and false feelings of intimacy what you really want?

You, the woman, in your entirety, not your vagina, not your sex, you the person as a whole is the reward.

How am I  sure that I, a woman,am  precious? Because the Creator of the Universe said so.

Memoirs of a Human Waste Can

Use and dump. Use and dump. That’s what sex with random men can start to feel like especially if you are not getting paid for it, thats just the honest truth. As I stated earlier, I started having casual sex in my early to mid teenage years, and I often felt like a dumpster afterward. I was the place they released their aggression, and stress. Often times they disgusted me. They were weak, disgusting and perverted men.

I remember being over at a friends house for a sleepover, and I remember her brother sneaking me out of her bedroom so he could have sex with me.   I was so tired, and groggy that night from drinking and smoking that I just lay there, hoping he would finish. I lay there like a lifeless, emotionless waste can.

When I was a little older I moved to Arizona with my parents. There I met the man that introduced me to the sex industry. He made porn, he was a pimp, you know stuff like that. You see, at 18 I was still curious like a cat. One evening he invited me over to his apartment, this was before I knew what kind of “promotional modeling” he meant, he took me to meet all of his brothers who happened to live in the same complex. He introduced me to all of his friends and their fancy cars. Then he took me into his bedroom, which was dark like a dungeon, except that one of the windows were open. I will always remember that window which was just an arms length reach away. We’re in the bed and he’s kissing me, fumbling awkwardly with my body,  when I tell him its that time of the month, sorry. But he insists, he is persistent, I whisper the word no,and he shuts the window. He proceeds to pull out my bloody tampon, I really don’t have a clue what he did with it. I just remember asking him to finish, and licking his ugly bumpy, hairy nipple, because that is the only way he would finish, he wouldn’t stop until he ejaculated. Not that he used the word ejaculated, I’m just trying to be proper.He then dumped his waste on my stomach. Here I was again, in the same position, a living, breathing, human waste can.

Cranberry and vodka always makes me sick. For some reason, men seem to keep it around when they want to get me drunk and have their way with me. I met this guy once, I can’t remember his name, but he was one of the most attractive men I have ever seen, or have ever been with. He had green eyes, olive skin, pink, soft, full, lips and his body was as chiseled as the statue of David. I went to his house with the intention of having sex with him, not with his father, and his father’s friend. Here I was drunk off of vodka and cranberry, with a dried out vagina, suffering through painful sex as his father wouldn’t stop until he was satisfied. I felt like a dead animal being dissected.But that is what casual  sex is all about dismembering and dissecting the other person’s body.  They had me arms pinned open, legs pinned open underneath the ceiling light in his father’s bedroom, as they tried to rub more lube on my vagina, so the son could finish and make his dad proud. Luckily, his dad’s friend was so drunk he couldn’t get an erection and all I had to suffer through was him rubbing his dirty dick on me. I wasn’t drunk enough to where I didn’t remember pieces of  what happened, I was drunk enough to the point where  I didn’t care.

As a teenage girl I loved having all the attention on me, that’s why I started having  threesomes, with a guy and his cousin. One night, we were supposed to just hang out as friends  but then of course they both got horny. I decided to have sex with the one I favored first. Thinking about it now, I did not get any physical gratification from this situation. Anyways, here I am 100 pounds looking up at this 200 pound guy as he thrusts me. It feels like hours because it hurts so bad. And finally he’s done. I can’t take anymore, but his cousin holds me down and begs and begs for his turn. I start to crawl away and he pulls me back down on the floor with him, its only going to take him one minute he keeps repeating. At this point I am too tired to fight, too tired to move so I lay there as he thrusts what has already been damaged and shredded. That minute felt like it was never going to end.There I lay on the floor, a broken and bruised dumping ground.

And the stories like this could go on and on. Sounds like fun right?

I know that I am not the only woman in the world with experiences like this. This is casual sex gone wrong is probably what  the majority of you are thinking. But there is nothing casual about these situations which are all true, and which have all been watered down summaries of what happened to me.

For the teenage girl, and the woman out there who has experienced those things similar to this, I want you to know that you are not alone. This is the ugly side of casual sex that no one really wants to talk about,its not pretty, and it does not feel good.

Despite what I have done I still have worth. God still loves me and wants me. I took those pieces of the person I was and  I made myself  into a better person. Casual sex was not the be it and end all of me, after all I’m only 23. These painful, shameful, and embarrassing sexual experiences do not define me and they do not define you too.

Believe it or not, after you have finished abusing yourself sexaully, and letting men in your life  use and dump their filth on you, there is life, love and hope.