I Lack Spontaneity When It Comes to Sex

Sexual assault changed the way I approach my sex life, but that doesn’t mean it’s boring in any way.

Like many women, I need time to get in the mood before I can do the deed.

The transition from just doing life normally to, “Okay, now we’re getting down and dirty” takes a bit of primping and priming.

If my partner just reaches out and tries to initiate something, anything, I will giggle. Because I am incredibly, indisputably, one of the most ticklish people on the planet.

There is a threshold which must be crossed between a touch being ticklish, and a touch being sensual.

But there’s more to it than just being ticklish, too.

The nature of how I approach sex, and the circumstances in which I feel safe enough to participate in sex, have changed radically since I was sexually assaulted at 22, by my then-boyfriend.

Making the intentional, mental shift.

First and foremost, I must get into the mindset to receive a touch sensually, rather than with a ticklish nature.

That shift in mindset is a very active practice.

“A man can just think about sex and have an erection, but for most women, just the desire of wanting sex is not enough”, says Dr. Ruth Westheimer, EdD, a psychosexual therapist, professor at New York University. “Foreplay serves a physical and emotional purpose, helping prepare both mind and body for sex.”

Actively having the time to make that shift is something that I, as a straight female, have found can be a difficulty for some men.

While they’re ready to go right away, I would need time.

I would often take my “charge up time” in my early relationships by taking care of my partner first, so that he could reach orgasm and not have to “put up with” the wait of me getting into the mood.

That left me in a predicament half the time of my partner being too tired or exhausted to see me through to my own orgasm.

Before I was a better communicator for my sexual needs, I found myself disappointed by my lack of orgasm. A lot.

These days, I’m a more sexually confident woman with a fiancé who knows her body like the back of his hand. In our relationship, there is bountiful foreplay. In our relationship, I’m the one who gets to come first.

Or more often, at the same time as him.

Sometimes, I even get to come multiple times before he reaches his first orgasm.

It’s the best sex I’ve ever had, and even three years into our relationship, it’s only getting better as we become more familiar with one another.

Communication really helps with that.

I’m a gal who needs some notice.

Yes, that’s it, I’ve said it — I’m not asking for my fiancé to book a slot in our calendar entitled, “Sexy Times”, but a head’s up is necessary for me.

Maybe that makes me a little weird, but it is what it is.

Even if that notice is 30 seconds, or a few hours, I just need to be aware that we share the same intention before we do anything sexual.

I notice that this need for advanced notice became especially strong following my sexual assault.

I planned on remaining a virgin until marriage, he had other ideas, despite saying he was accepting of my commitment.

After a year and a half of failed attempts at getting me to give it up, he tried to rape my virginity out of me.

Since then, I’ve lost a large amount of the spontaneity I once had as a young, sexually-driven youth.

I believe that my ticklish nature acts as a form of self-defence, these days. A more polite way to indicate to my partner, “I’m not in the mood”, or “I’m not ready.”

Not that he would ignore my right to consent, at any point in time.

But we’ve learned that he can’t wake me up with sex — that’s a sure way to launch me right into a panic attack.

Because in those few moments that I am coming to consciousness, I don’t know whose hands are on me. My brain isn’t cognizant enough to realize that it’s him on top of me.

To the more everyday examples, I don’t flick like a switch anymore, from normal to horny. I like to be aware of what is taking place. I like to be in some form of control when it comes to how we proceed.

That’s what sexual violation does to you — it makes you hold the value of control towards your sexual activities more closely.

Being prepared can still be sexy.

If you think this makes me boring, then you haven’t received a sultry photo from me while you’re at work, announcing my intention to pounce on you once you’re home.

Because there’s an exciting anticipation throughout my day when why partner sends me that suggestive eggplant emoji while I’m eating soup for lunch. “Hell yeah! Game time!” I’m all about that sh*t.

The other side of this is that I’ve been on the receiving end of sex I wasn’t prepared for, and did not want.

In my mind, on those occassions when my fiancé woke me up with well-intentioned surprise sex, if I haven’t been given warning, it could be anyone.

Waking up with God-knows-who groping my bare breast, reliving my sexual assault momentarily and feeling the panic rise in my throat, is not sexy.

Consent, on the other hand, is very sexy.

Being prepared, and ensuring consent, does not have to take away from the thrill or excitement of sex. Every person has their boundaries, and those boundaries need to be respected.

As for me? I’m still a virgin, and my wedding is in less than 4 months.

I’m counting down the days until I can finally get some intercourse.

And this time, I’ll have had 13 months of advanced-warning that sex is coming, so I’m extra prepared.