I remember when I was a virgin. I was hung up on purity and had an attachment to childlike innocence that was bordering on unhealthy. Despite this, I had a pleasant trip through sexual development. I started to explore things as a teenager, always inside a relationship with a person I deeply cared for and trusted. I was able to have a very slow and steady progression into sexual activity wholly based on my own choices.
I couldn’t imagine sex with anyone I wasn’t in love with. I couldn’t imagine sex at all. I distinctly remember being fifteen, raising my hand in sex-ed and asking, “What about people who just never want to have sex?” The teacher didn’t understand my question.
The older I got, the more comfortable I became. I slowly grew into sexual autonomy and gained confidence in my body. I remember inquisitive internet searches with my boyfriend and fun times of sexual exploration. Still, I was hung up about sex. I still had to be pure. Sex still had to be “special.”
When I started having sex, I didn’t tell anyone. I bounced back and forth between acceptance and total grief. I loved my boyfriend and he loved me, but I couldn’t get past the fact that we had “gone all the way.” I lamented loosing my virginity. I still remember my boyfriend’s sorrowful tone through the phone receiver. “Why does it have to be that we’ve lost something?”
Now I feel like I have control over sex. I can do whatever I want with it, including make it special, or not.
Recently, when I have heard people talking about sex I hear the word “special” in direct correlation to emotion. I have mixed feelings when I hear this. I remember thinking about sex being special, but what I was really thinking about was sex being a certain way, in a certain context- I was never quite able to hammer out a more detailed description. “Special” sex was outrageously limiting and determined by how I thought I was supposed to behave.
When I come across the discussion of “special” sex, I can’t help but laugh a little. What I envision is so different from what the person is referring to, and from what I used to think. When people say “I want it to be special” they are usually referring to romance and love, candlelit rooms with roses, bubble baths, chocolate-covered strawberries, and claymation cupids flying overhead. When I think of “special” sex, I think of sex that lasts five hours, giving and having too many orgasms to count, waking up the neighbors, handcuffs, boots, falling off the bed, counting hickies, and when you’re done you need a shower… and maybe some rubbing alcohol.
It seems to me that “special” is more about cultural expectations and stereotypes than emotions or personal well-being. Monogamy, symbolic trinkets, and hearing “I love you” somehow replace the importance of informed consent, safety, and pleasure. It’s as if people think that making sex “special” makes it cleaner or less of a transgression. “Special” is used as a scapegoat for people’s sexual insecurities and restrictions. I guess it’s whatever gets you through the day… or night.
I don’t want to sound like I’m against “special” sex. Sometimes I want sex to be “special” or for it to have emotional importance. Sometimes I want sex to fulfill a need or to fill a void. Sometimes I want sex to kill time. I’ve had sex for love. I had it for fun. I’ve had sex because I wanted it. I’ve had sex for the hell of it. I’ve had sex as myself, as someone else, and a couple identities in between. I’ve had sex to know that I’m here and to pretend I’m somewhere else. I’ve had sex because I knew I could, I’ve had sex because I thought I should. I’ve had sex that came from the best idea I’ve ever had and from the worst decision I’ve ever made.
Maybe sex has to start as something particular so it has a place to grow from, a foundation of sorts. Sometimes that starting point is “special” and it opens into a wider array. Sometimes the start is a fluke, a mistake, or a strategy, and then it progresses to where it can be “special.” And no matter how a person's sexuality starts off, it in no way determines where things could end up. Just because a person used to be fucked up about sex, doesn’t mean they will always be that way. It’s sort of like there’s always hope.
Sex is the one thing I am always optimistic about, which really says something because I’m not optimistic about anything. When it comes to sex, even when things go totally wrong there’s always the chance to recover. I think that’s one of the things I like most about sex; it’s limitless in concept and practically limitless in act. Sex has constancy because sexuality never ends. It only changes. No one act or instance defines it. Experiences only shape it and re-shape it. Few things can give you the confidence healthy sexuality can. Maybe it’s that need for healthy sexuality and sexual confidence that makes “special” so important. “Special” gives a person a personal concept of desire, and maybe even a direction to go in. It’s part of the first steps of sexual autonomy.
I guess I’m really a supporter of “special” sex. Whether it’s the idea of “special” sprouting from youthful planning, or “special” because of uniqueness and pleasure, “special” sex is a good thing. The reality of “special” sex is up to the individual. A lot of times it doesn’t happen in the moments you expect, but that just makes it even better. I still stand by the statement that sex doesn’t always have to be special, but I’m glad that at least sometimes it is.
I also want to add that my ideas about sex and how "special" it should be have altered greatly as yours have. In some ways not as much, but in others even more, considering I went through 13 years of Catholic school and grew up in a Catholic family. So the fact that my ideas and views regarding sex are now quite similar to yours (with only a few differnces) shows quite a large gap. I remember planning on waiting till I was married to have sex, then planning on waiting until I was in a serious relationship. Now, here I am, years later experiencing sex and enjoying it in ways and situations I never would have imagined. It's crazy to think about how much stigma our school, family, religion, media, and other parts of culture put into our heads about sex. I actually kind of think it's even crazier that we can and I have gotten past all that and have been able to create my own views of sex and am comfortable with my current decisions and ideas regarding sex.
P.S. love the list of things that make sex special for you...especially the boots.
i think you should : )