Sex Addiction?

via allaboutaddiction.com

While reading this article on Huffington Post, I came across the following from Russell Brand and the words in bold caught my eye:

In 2005, Russell Brand sought treatment for his sex addiction at the KeyStone Center, a facility located in a Philadelphia suburb. In his 2007 memoir, “My Booky Wook,” he dished about his sex-crazed days, writing: “At one point, about five years ago, I had a harem of about 10 women whom I would rotate in addition to one-night stands and random casual encounters.”

It made me think about the stable of guys I rotated for my own sexual needs. There was the guy who was a friend, the only person I knew before my divorce that I’ve slept with because we wanted the same thing. He’s the guy I can chill out with on a regular basis, nerd out with as well, the sex about primal need, who didn’t mind going home so I didn’t have to share my bed. Another guy was a lug of a guy, dumb as shoes, but very arrogant which made him a commander in bed. When I wanted to be tossed around (and keep in mind, I’m nearly 6ft and while no one would call me plump, I’m full of bumps and curves and plenty of soft, squeezable places), this is the guy I called. Then there is the tender guy, the guy who would make me feel almost like I was in a relationship for those moments when we were having sex, the tenderhearted type who looks you in the eye, touches your face and has a tongue of gold. Interspersed through these three are guys I find attractive, guys I’ve flirted with, strangers I’ve kissed, and at least one guy I think I can love. I may not be Russell Brand level, but you know, I’m alright with that.

Little Dick, Big Dick

Big d, Little d

Little Dick

The first guy I officially slept with after my ex moved out was a guy I met dancing. He’s one of two guys I’ve taken home or gone home with because their dancing turned me on. I don’t know what it is about dancing, but if you can move to the beat, move with me, and I enjoy myself, then that’s a recipe for something good.

I was definitely not trying to pick up anyone. I wasn’t even sure how I was going to go about this whole sex with whomever I wanted thing I had decided once the ex was gone. I didn’t have a plan, I wasn’t even sure I’d be desirable to anyone else. That was the point, the low self esteem, feeling undesirable when your ex lover hadn’t laid a hand on you in years.

Falling In Love

nipped from lovelife4sale.blogspot.com

3 days after my ex and I separated, I fell in love with someone.

Unfortunately, my heart was too cold to appreciate it.

I was at a bar with my friends. I hadn’t cried over my lost marriage yet, mainly because we’d seen the end of our relationship long before we were ready to admit it. While I certainly didn’t want to be in the dating game at the age of 36, I did not want to be lonely and unhappy in my marriage and I didn’t want either of us to continue to be hurt and unfulfilled. Plus I wanted sex and he didn’t want to give it to me, so if I stayed, the next step would be cheating on my part.

Some of my girlfriends were surprised by my announcement. I was equally surprised that I’d said something and that he hadn’t. All I knew is that we were going to be divorced soon. For me, when it’s over, it’s over.

I’ve never understood people who go back to exes that hurt them. Is your interaction with a loved one so lacking in communication that you can’t have a disagreement without “breaking up” and it is only when you’ve gone a few days and are lonely – or have no one to take care of you – that you go crawling back to that person – or let them come crawling back to you only to do the whole cycle over again? Either I haven’t been in love enough for that to make sense or it is just something that doesn’t make sense. What really didn’t make sense was how easily I fell for this guy.

Purity

via Sodahead.com

I was an abstinence educator.

Yep, I taught high school girls and boys they should wait for marriage. When I was still in the honeymoon stages of my marriage, I was very grateful for abstinence. I didn’t have a phantom ex in the bed with me and my husband and I really appreciated it. In fact, I was really happy with the concept of abstinence until I realized that my husband didn’t actually care for sex like I did. It was then I wished that I knew more about sex. Would I have guessed that he wasn’t all about sex if I were more experienced? Was I doomed to be in a sex-less marriage for the rest of my life?

Sex, Sex, Sex

I started marriage at 28 years of age a virgin and I came out of marriage a slut.

I don’t mind being the bad guy.

As I look over the last few months since I was liberated from a stifling marriage, I’ve had the opportunity to examine the different ways we as a society think about sex. If I were to talk about sex with my ex-husband, I would always say that our sexual roles were reversed. I was like the man who we traditionally think of as needing sex while he was like the woman, coming up with excuses to avoid it. I took it personally. I felt unattractive. I felt sex starved. I wanted to cheat.

I was happy that we got to the talking and separation stage without me becoming a cheater, but it was a close call. I always thought cheating was a cop-out. If you had to cheat, you should just break up with your other. But because I loved him but needed something he wouldn’t give, I almost convinced myself that cheating would be okay as longs as he didn’t find out. However I didn’t think it would be fair to him and couldn’t bring myself to that point.

If love is complicated, sex is even more so. If you’re trying to navigate the sex game as a female, you realize not only that you’re at a disadvantage (despite how easy it is to find and invite sex), but even the concept of just enjoying sex without wanting the love and devotion makes you something of an anomaly. Guys aren’t used to it. Even if they would have left as soon as the act was finished, they take umbrage at being asked to leave. When you start the conversation stating that you want nothing from them except sex and that you want to be sure they want the same, it suddenly becomes a little bit ridiculous to find a guy falling in love with you. All my life I’d been taught that guys want sex, not commitment, but as my social experiment continues (though it didn’t start that way), I find that reasoning more and more untrue.

It continues to be a social experiment. There are no rules, there is no way to avoid hurt or avoid hurting others. Let’s see whether I come out of it unscathed.