A Woman Hellbent on Reclaiming This Lost Romantic Frontier

We’ve done things men’s way for a few thousand years…now we’re going to try something different

Hey, you. I’m so excited about tonight. I’ve been waiting my whole life for this.

No, not for this intimate experience we’ve decided to share. I have no idea what to expect on that front and haven’t had great experiences in the past, so I’m not going to hold out for that dream.

What I’ve waited for my whole life is the chance to sit down and tell you everything I’m about to say. Because it’s my turn now.

You’re going to wear this condom. You can put it on. I can put it on. I don’t care. Either way, you are going to wear it through to the end of this experience without a single complaint.

You can’t always come when you’re wearing one? I’m so sorry to hear that. I can’t always come, either. I’m a woman. I’ve never felt entitled to an orgasm just because someone decided they wanted to sleep with me. In fact, I’ve been conditioned by society to specifically not expect one from a man.

Yeah, it’s a bummer. My heart bleeds for you.

Now put the condom on, unless you have something else you’d rather do.

I intend to have some fun this time. I’m going to want to talk. Joke. Laugh. I want to feel delight. Pleasure. Joy.

That means I’m going to be fully engaged in this experience. I’m going to be an active, vocal participant.

I realize that might be a problem for you. You might be hoping to act out your favorite porn movies, moving me into the traditional series of positions, holding me by the shoulders, elbows, or knees in mild restraint, trying to elicit mmms and uhhhs and yeahs out of me while I lean my head back and roll my eyes, submitting to a performative display of primal pleasure even though you haven’t touched my nipples or clit in the last ten minutes.

This is not happening. We’re going to be two normal, awkward human beings who do not look good from every angle and who communicate in more than one syllable. I’m going to tell you exactly what I like. I’m going to be open to new things. I’m going to ask you what you like, too, and maybe surprise you with my own experimentations.

And you are not going to criticize me for making too much noise or not being thin enough or for voicing explicit requests. You’re not going to call me a whore or a slut. You are not going to imply that there’s something wrong with me for enjoying sex. And you’re not going to tell me you are questioning our relationship because you thought I was more respectable than this.

If you only want to have sex with a woman who doesn’t like sex — you should probably see a therapist for that. Seriously. That’s incredibly disturbing.

And if tearing me down turns you on…you should seek help for that, too.

I’m a human being, just like you. And if you can’t treat me that way, I’m sure you remember the way to the front door.

I’m going to want to connect. Do you understand that? Sex is about connection.

It’s fine if you want casual sex. There’s nothing wrong with that. But for heaven’s sake, the point of sex is to connect, casual or not.

Secondly, in this specific case, we’ve already talked about this. I am not interested in casual sex at this time. I am interested in building an emotional bond with another person and exploring that bond.

I don’t want to marry you. I don’t need forever. I’m not even sure I would move in with you. (You wish you were that lucky.)

But I do want to experience love, touch, and connection.

That’s right, I’m going to want to touch your face and look into your eyes. A lot. I’m going to want to sit on your lap with as much of our naked bodies touching as possible and just breath together and kiss. I’m going to want to lie with our arms around each other and take our sweet time nibbling our way down each other’s necks.

I’m not here for ten minutes of thrusting and your orgasm. I want it all.

Do you understand me? I want it all.

This isn’t going to work for you? You don’t “do” love? Honey, I am sick of your nonsense. Aren’t you sick of it, too?

You want to pretend you don’t need love. Love is beneath you because any feeling that isn’t anger is associated with women and you will do anything to make sure everyone knows you are pure man.

This isn’t going to work for me. I’m tired of you pounding your chest and yelling that you are a red-blooded man, a man through and through, a man to your core. You don’t even know what that means other than what our culture conditioned you to believe.

You know the problem with being a real man? You aren’t allowed to touch another human being in tenderness. Only domination. You aren’t allowed to seek or explore pleasure beyond your own masculinity-affirming ejaculation. Preferably on her face. You aren’t allowed to rest, receive, or truly release, even in the softness of another person’s arms.

And this means you are terrible at sex. You have no business in a woman’s bedroom. You will never seek to understand what you’re doing there. And you’ll never experience one of sex’s most important gifts: the stretching of the body, mind, heart, and soul all at once. You can’t because these are not things a “real man” would do.

And the worst consequence of all, perhaps, is the one you just admitted to. You will never know love.

But hey, it’s your life. Do what you like. Maybe empty thrusting and indifferent ejaculations are enough for you. Maybe you are happy with this tiny little corner of pleasure you have been assigned.

But I’m not. I want the whole goddamn room. The entire universe, with you and me at its center.

I don’t have time for anything less.

I understand this is hard for you. I’ll tell you a secret: Sex has always been hard for me. And for most women. We haven’t exactly had an easy time of it.

But the world is changing now. Thank god. And your challenge here is going to be a lot less difficult and a lot more satisfying in the end than the challenge I’ve faced in the bedroom my whole life.

Like I said, we’re doing things my way from now on. That means we both get to have a safe space here. Both of our bodies and feelings matter. What we want and don’t want matters.

And I guarantee you, this will be more fun than anything you’ve ever experienced.

I’ve been working to make this world into a reality a lot longer than you have. I know what it cost me…and I know that the payoff will make it all worth it.

You’ve been made to forget something: We were always meant to live like this. We were always meant to weave ourselves together with threads of pleasure. To anoint those threads with joy. To stretch and strengthen them with love.

This dream that we’ve been living in — this nightmare — has separated us and severed those ties. We live separately now, in enmity and mistrust, no chance for healthy social bonds to grow or flourish.

I understand you still want that. Because it’s something you know. Something that makes you feel powerful.

But you can’t know what this new world is like until you explore it. You’ll never understand that you don’t need power when you have pleasure and connection.

Do what you like, but if you turn back now, I will not follow. I will keep going alone rather than return to your empty, small world.

I told you: It’s my turn now.

Y.L. Wolfe is a gender-curious, solosexual, perimenopausal, childless crone-in-training, exploring these experiences through writing, photography, and art. You can find more of her work at yaelwolfe.com. If you love her writing, leave her a tip over at Ko-fi.

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