I had the best Valentines Day with my husband this year. Finally, in my mid 40’s, I had the satisfying sexual experience that has been sold to me in every sappy romance novel and Lifetime movie. This experience started with a moment of self discovery that came to me during a fight I had with my husband about porn. I caught him watching porn one evening. I felt really uncomfortable about it. To be clear, I’m not against watching porn. I’ve always hated porn because I get nothing out of it. I’m not stimulated by anything visual. The truth is my sexuality is linked to my sense of touch. The rougher, the stronger the stimulant. When I’ve tried to explain this to previous boyfriends, they thought I was broken because of a sexual assault early in my life. I’ve been afraid to live honestly about my sexuality because of the stigma associated with BDSM. Therefore, I’ve rarely had an completely satisfying, sexual experience. In my marriage, touching another person, sexually, is considered cheating – his rules, not mine. If I go to a dance club and dance with someone else, cheating. For him, touching is a stimulant only for us. I argued that if watching is a stimulant for him, then he is denying me the same pleasure when putting restrictions on how I can experience stimulus. I’ve never spoken about my sexuality, with anyone, until having that fight. Afterwards, he did research. We’ve been experimenting with different methods of sexual play. Sexism – especially sexual stigma – kept me from sharing myself with the person I love.
