April 22, 2012
Later that day I got to thinking about relationships. There are those that open you up to something new and exotic, those that are old and familiar, those that bring up lots of questions, those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that bring you far from where you started, and those that bring you back. But the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you can find someone to love the you you love, well, that’s just fabulous.– Carrie in Sex and the City
Does this prove to you my darling readers, I am really back! Honest and truly, not just riding in for a brief teaser of a missive on my new boyfriend and dancing off again into the anonymity of girlfriendhood?
Unforgivably, I ended with a bit of a cliff-hanger in my last post regarding how I feel I have become worse in bed now that I really care if my Handyman enjoys himself. It’s all too true. After more than decade of swinging on the chandelier, waking the neighbours style of sex I am now attempting to “make love” for the first time in my rather distinguished sexual career. It turns out it’s not something I’m very good at. I’m horribly self-conscious during the act. I can barely bring myself to initiate in case he feels I am “just after one thing” and I have trouble focusing on my own enjoyment while worrying “if he’s really enjoying this.”
Previously, I was supremely confident as a world class naked athlete. I was always happy to start proceedings (taking it in good grace if rebuffed) and enjoyed myself to the fullest, while viewing my partner’s enjoyment as merely a potential by-product. This is no longer the case, and I’m quite forlorn about it.
What my off-kilter mojo is screaming a lot these days.
I haven’t changed my need or desire for sexual congress. If anything it’s increased as I now wish it to be part of a broader emotional connection with the Handyman, but somehow it’s just not quite aligned. It’s like all these extra emotions and mushy stuff has thrown of my rhythm, my mojo if you will. In my life pre the Handyman I could switch from foreplay to penetration and then between positions as required on sheer instinct. Now…I’m over thinking it and either jumping the gun or missing the momentum. How has this happened? Why has this happened?
Most importantly – how do I fix it?
Let’s take a moment to remember, the Handyman is a past conquest – a man who was a knowing member of my regular consorts. We’ve indulged in kink and spent days in bed leaving only to relieve or refresh ourselves. So why in the name of all that is perverse is it all broken now?
I’m not giving up just yet, which is another new leaf I must have turned over somewhere, because I like this guy. I also like the intimacy we enjoy, it’s not something I’ve really allowed into my life in the past, but is it enough if the sex doesn’t cut it?