Yet Another Posting on the Importance of Talk

I’m always talking about how important communication is.

I always hear from women who are complaining that their lovers don’t do what they like, or from men who wish they knew what their women want. It goes both ways. I think the biggest problem tends to be, though, that a lot of women feel really uncomfortable talking about sex in basic, blunt ways. Said it before, and I’ll say it again. I know it’s the case because I, too, used to feel all dirty inside when I said things like “sex” and “orgasm” and
“erection.” But lookit me now, ma! Sex! Orgasm! Erection!

I was asked yesterday by Fran from Ireland whether or not I find myself being perceived as being slutty merely for the fact that I write about sex. I answered that no, I don’t tend to find that. I’m sure it happens, though. A lot of men, however, seem to really appreciate the fact that I’m sexually aware of what and how I like sex to be.

I have conversations with my lovers. They know what I like. I’m not afraid to interject in the middle of some steamy session and say what I want. (Naturally, it needs to be said rather sexily or it can deflate a mood pretty fucking fast, too. Emphasis on “deflate.”) But the conversations often happen long before I wind up under the covers… or on the floor, or in the back seat.

There’s a world of difference, I think, in my writing matter-of-factly about sex compared to, say, someone writing about dripping hard cocks and getting fucked silly in the backroom of a party. Not that there’s anything wrong with either of those, of course. Heh. But the same thing goes in conversation.

You can talk about a movie? You can talk about sex.

I ran into a quote today that is more about life in general, but that I find to be profoundly apt when it comes to talking about sex, something I think every sexually timid person needs to hear. It goes like this:

Be who you are
and say what you feel
because those who mind
don’t matter
and those who matter
don’t mind.

To that end, I once had a letter that I spoke of on the old bloggie, from a Marine whose wife had been writing him all during his service in Iraq. Maybe he still reads this. (Say hi, if you do! You promised you would.) Somehow, some way, despite all those thousands of miles between them, being apart brought them closer together. They had to actually really say things now because all they had were words. She was writing him letters and they started getting into the topics of sex. Along the way, she found the courage to tell him that she was having rape fantasies with him being her attacker, and she wanted to know if they’d be able to bring them to fruition when his tour finally ended. He felt touched that she trusted him enough to finally admit this thing that was wracking her with guilt. He was worried about how to pull it off, because he really wanted to make it happen in a way that would be worth the wait.

And I hear that from most men who finally have partners who trust them with their innermost fantasies. They’re proud that they’ve been entrusted with this and they want to do it justice. Or so has been my experience both through correspondence re: this blog, and in real life with my own lovers.

It’s like I said yesterday in my writing about suicide. Some secrets aren’t made for keeping. What you want to experience will never, ever happen if you don’t have the courage to speak of it. Sure, it’s hard. But it gets easier. And the more you do it, the more you won’t need to say in the future.

I swear, I’d give a money-back guarantee if your communication about sex improves, and your sex life does not. The two go hand in hand. Talking = Better Orgasms. It’s about as remedial as math gets.

Sex is the only time we get to be who we really are. Our soft underbellies get exposed and our animalistic interiors come out to play. It’s supposed to be that way. What the hell are you ashamed of? Come out, come out, wherever you are, and indeed – be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter won’t mind.

(It turns out it’s none other than that sage bard, Dr. Seuss, who wrote the above quote.)