I poured it all out. Emptied the bag into the garbage can. I’d have to be a sad case to go and try to individually separate the tiny fragments from the used toilet tissue, pantiliners and toilet roll that it is now clinging to.
But what does it mean that I considered it?
I threw away a bag of marijuana last night.
I’ve had it for about two weeks now. I got it from my Mother’s friend when he came to visit and I remember thinking when he gave it to me: Is this a good thing?
I mean, don’t get me wrong. I do enjoy taking the occasional toke. And to be fair, I DID ask him to “leave me a lil’ bit”.
But he left me a lotta bit.
And I was a bit worried. Particularly because I knew that I was going to have to smoke it all by myself. I’m new in this town and don’t know anyone so I have no buddies to share a puff with and both my mother and step-dad quit about a year ago. Lame!!
So I was left alone. With too much marijuana. No one to share it with. And no self control. If the weed is in my house, I am going to smoke it. Every day. Until it’s gone. Sigh.
Now for me, marijuana has its pros and cons.
On the positive side, I become quite creative; or I am pushed to use my creativity, rather. When I’m high, I want to sing, I want to dance, I want to write, I want to design, I want to do everything!
Problem is, I want to do it all at once, which is where the negative aspect of pot-smoking comes in.
Sometimes my mind becomes so overwhelmed with ideas that I can’t think clearly and focus on one thing to pursue. As a result, I’m often just sat there thinking of ideas and not really acting on any of them.
And it’s a shame because admittedly, I come up with some of my best ideas while I’m stoned. Ideas so good that I’ve often prayed that I could reach that same potential without the use of herbal enhancers. (To be fair, though, I do but the herbals add an extra kick.)
Another con of weed-smoking is the effect it has on my energy levels. I’ve been trying to do this weird thing where I both gain weight AND stay in shape. So I’ve been eating more meals while trying to get in a power-walk or work-out DVD at least three times a week. It may sound a bit dumb but I’ve gained 7 healthy pounds since I’ve been home these past four months. (This I believe is also attributed to the fact that before I got this wretched bag of awful, I’d smoked only twice since I’ve been home. Less smoke = more healthy body fat. More on that later.)
But now SINCE I’ve had this wretched bag of awful, I haven’t done anything but sit on my ass, more than I normally do anyway, I mean. I haven’t been motivated to power-walk anywhere except for outside to the little spot on the back porch where I light up.
And one would think that smoking weed will make you eat more, but no; not for me. It causes major shifts in my eating habits and digestion. And I know it’s not a lot but I’ve lost a pound in the past two weeks and all I’d been doing since I’ve been home is gaining and maintaining.
My appetite/digestion and energy levels have gotten even worse since I’ve started mixing tobacco with the weed, a little something I used to do when smoking marijuana overseas. This happened because when I DID get weed, it wasn’t much and the opportunity came about every blue moon. So it started off as me mixing it with tobacco to stretch it out more. I learned as well that when mixed with tobacco, the joint burns slower and smoother.
Plus, I was a bit used to mixing with tobacco because I started smoking hashish while overseas, which was readily available all the time. (For those of you who don’t know, hash is meant to be mixed with tobacco and rolled with a filter.)
Now before I go on, let me just say that although I smoked practically every day, I really didn’t like smoking hash. It doesn’t give you the same high as weed; whereas weed makes me more active (mentally, anyway), hashish used to just give me this heavy headed feeling. Like I would have to lay down for like 15 minutes after I smoked sometimes; because I had no choice. I couldn’t hold my head up comfortably.
Hashish is also harder on the lungs, methinks. I’ve had chest pains and dizzy spells. It was rough. I know some would be like, “If you went through all that, why did you still smoke it?” Well if you lived where I lived, you kind of NEEDED to get stoned just to be able to deal and as I said, marijuana only came about like once a year. So as much as I hated it, I guess it just became a way of life for me and I learned how to smoke in moderation to lessen its harmful effects.
I knew a lot of the problem was the tobacco mixed with the hashish. I don’t smoke cigarettes but I have smoked cigarettes and the same head-rush I experience after smoking a cigarette is felt after I smoke hashish. And I’ve linked my losing that pound to my starting to add tobacco with my weed because I lost a lot of weight overseas and blamed it a lot on hash, specifically the tobacco mixed with it. I know that was it…and the stress…which is the main reason why I smoked in the first place. Sigh. Vicious cycle.
But anyway, fast forward. I have moved back home and I have this mahussive bag of marijuana and I’m missing smoking jays with my friends.
Which reminds me of another con, by the way. Weed is better enjoyed with a friend or friends. I do enjoy smoking alone when I am busy but I also like to talk when I’m stoned. When I smoke alone, I’m simply left with my thoughts. No wonder my mind goes haywire.
But on one nostalgic day, I decided I wanted to smoke a joint the way I used to overseas with my buddies. However, I was never good at rolling with a filter. I’m old school. Lay the mixture on a 1.5 or Zig-Zag and twist it up. Easy.
On this day, though, I wanted to switch it up, give it a try. So what did I do? Well what do we all do when we want to learn how to do ANYTHING?
I went to the world wide web.
Actually, first I went and got a cigarette from my step-dad (he gave me four, though). One thing I remembered about the way my buddies would roll is that the joints would be super-fat and I wasn’t prepared to use so much marijuana.
So I went to this site and took a mini-master class. I should have already known as many times as I’ve been around friends rolling and I have actually tried ONCE while overseas but I had it all wrong and kept sucking bits of tobacco into my mouth because the filter hole was too big. A disaster.
However, there is something about having step by step instructions illustrated on a computer screen. Here is what I was able to come up with:
It’s a little bent up; kind of crooked. But not bad, right? And it burned beautifully!
But lo and freaking behold, when I was finished smoking it, I had another one of my “Lord just let me make it up the stairs and to my bed” moments. That uncomfortable heavy-headed feeling that can only be cured with 15-20 minutes laying motionless on a soft surface. I hadn’t experienced that when I was just rolling tobacco and filter free. Me and my wanting to reminisce.
And hello me and my not learning my lesson the first time. I rolled two more joints like this afterwards. For the practice, you know. So when I meet back up with my foreign friends in the future I can contribute to the happy time. Plus, I didn’t want those four cigarettes that my step-dad gave me to go to waste.
But I threw the bag away last night.
And I can’t really think of any reason why other than a voice has been telling me to get rid of it for quite some time now. Maybe because it makes me lazy. Maybe because it keeps me up all night daydreaming. Maybe because it makes my chest and my eyelids heavy. Maybe because (since I’ve started with the tobacco) it makes me poo all the time. (Another thing about hashish…sometimes just the smell of it burning would send me to the toilet.) Maybe because it was an exercise in will-power.
I have no will-power. I can admit this honestly and with no shame.
But I had a little backtrack yesterday, what with my whole slip back into watching pornography (it was just four clips, geez), so I wanted to make it up to God.
Yes, God. We’ve been talking about this as well. If you’ve read my earlier posts, you will know that shower-time is talk to God time. And I had a little chat with Him about the way I back-slid into watching porn and brought along a few people with me (sorry, new Tumblr pal…it was a good clip, though, right?).
I apologized to Him for being so boldly disobedient and because I had a job interview the following day, I really wanted to make it up to Him, as I was worried my chances of blessings were thwarted by my little visual foray with Angel Dark and Melanie Rios.
And this is when I heard a voice tell me to “Take the bag of weed and throw it in the trash can.” Now this obviously wasn’t the first time I’ve heard it but there was something in the way it was said that pushed me to action. (The first time, I did throw it away, but by throw it away I mean I just put it into my empty wastebasket in my bedroom and pulled it back out five minutes later.)
Now, whether the voice was God or me coaching myself to a positive change, I wanted to just do it. Just to see where it would take me. Just to see how this obedience thing pans out.
I told myself that after the bag was gone, I would focus more on my healthy eating diet and exercise and would try to get out of bed before 3 p.m. I would get back on my regime. Yes, this was going to be a good thing! I can do it!
After I finished showering, I got dressed and grabbed the bag from under my mattress. I wrapped it up in paper so that no one would see what I was throwing away and I took it downstairs to the kitchen garbage can and tossed it out.
Aaaaah. That wasn’t so hard! And without weed to smoke, I actually went to bed at a decent hour and woke up at 1:30 p.m., right on time to prepare for my interview at 3.
Which went well, by the way. Very well. Hired, pending background check. Hopefully they don’t require drug tests or I’m effed.
‘Twas a good day and I attributed my blessing to my act of obedience last night. Awww, shucks, God…thanks!
But naturally, what did I want to do when I got home, to celebrate?
Thankfully, there had only been paper products thrown in the garbage last night. Plus, I can’t let step-dad’s cigarette go to waste.
See. I told you. No will-power. Sigh. Looks like I’m just gonna have to finish the damn thing.
October 10th, 3:30 p.m.
Okay, I did it: I figured it was going to happen. I have been writing about masturbation and pornography all morning so naturally my idle curiosity has been aroused.
So I typed “pornography” in the Search Tags window. Not because I want or have a desire to search out a smut film but because I wanted to introduce a little blog exercise I will feature occasionally where I type a word (normally conflict-related) in the tags and reblog the first post on my Dash.
What? That IS the reason why! And if that first post just so happened to have been a video of Angel Dark taking it hardcore, then I would have just been writing a review on that.
But although, admittedly, Angel is playing in another tab (sigh, I couldn’t reference her without a side search; one thing led to another), today’s “Tag of the Day” post comes in the form of a question. (The second post was my own!) Tumblr user cashpiles has asked:
Simple question: Why is prostitution illegal when it is legal to create hardcore pornography?
Interesting question indeed. I think that it’s an issue of personal privacy. Like a what you do behind closed doors is your own business type thing. Prostitution is out in the open whereas pornography is filmed on sets, and sometimes in the back of vans. Pornography isn’t as in your face as prostitution and therefore it’s less difficult to control and regulate. I guess.
Oh, heck if I know. Angel Dark is on. I’ve fallen weak.
And I’m back. I fell prey to my lusts earlier and was unable to approach this topic intelligently. It is definitely an interesting topic, though and since my knowledge on the legalities of prostitution and pornography is limited, I’ve started now with some research into the matter.
The first site I came upon presented me with an immediate eye-opener. I’d never analyzed the similarities between prostitution and pornography. Women (and men, though not as much) are being paid to have sex. Pornography is simply prostitution caught on film.
Why had I never thought about it this way before?
I was in both a stoned stupor and a lustful trance when I came upon the original post/question earlier and in the absence of logical reasoning, I wondered who cares why one is legal and the other isn’t. Whether it’s against the law or not isn’t going to stop prostitutes from tricking or porn stars from filming.
However, after reading this article, appropriately titled “Why is Prostitution Legal, But Pornography is Not?” I can see the real issue at hand. If I was a streetwalker, I’d be pissed if I got arrested for laying the same john that my twin sister Cindy Screw not only also got paid for laying but you can pick up a copy of her compilation at The Smut House.
But there seem to be a lot of loopholes in the laws and such and the First Amendment is being tossed around a bit. In one argument (on a different site) porn stars are getting paid to “act” while prostitutes are getting paid to have sex. Oh, so that’s what they call it. “Acting”.
It’s all very boring to me, actually. Just a bunch legal mumbo-jumbo (a.k.a. bullpoo) and people are just upskirting around the issue (see what I did there) when in actuality, it should all be legal.
Yes. I say legalize it all. People have a right to do whatever they want to do and in the end are always going to do what they want to do. Who are we to judge them for their decisions? They are the ones who are going to have to face the Ultimate Judge in the end and none of us will be there with them.
Am I saying that it is moral and right? Absolutely not. It’s an unhealthy and dangerous lifestyle, and it’s just as detrimental to the individuals participating, from the johns and whores to the teenaged boys hiding Playboy magazines under their mattresses, from the adult singles who can’t seem to stay off of Porn Hub to the creators of and contributors to such sites.
We will all be equally held accountable for the parts we’ve played in this business. We’re all one body and you can’t cuff the arm and leave the legs and feet behind. In other words, if one goes down, then we should all go down. We’re all engaged in the same lewd act, in retrospect. We’re all prostituting.
Now, if the issue of whether prostitution and pornography are illegal was strictly rooted in the personal health and welfare of the men and women involved, then I’d be more in favor the ruling. However, it seems to me that they are just trying to find new ways to control the money. And by they, I don’t mean the pimps and film directors.
They are not concerned with the well-being of said prostitutes and porn stars so leave them alone; let them do as they please. It’s not our place to judge.
On the flip-side, I learned a new word today.
To act as a go-between or liaison in sexual intrigues; function as a procurer. To cater to the lower tastes and desires of others or exploit their weaknesses.
To cater to the lower tastes and desires of others or exploit their weaknesses.
Aside from all this legal talk, this word and particular definition hit me on a personal level.
Pornography is pandering me. It caters to my lower tastes and desires. It exploits my weaknesses.
Today is a perfect example. As I mentioned earlier, I stayed up all night until the early morning typing a post which revealed my thoughts as they came about on the topic of masturbation and if it is considered a sin.
In this post I also boasted of my deleting a former pornography blog and being “one month smut-free”. Three posts later, I came to the conclusion that masturbation is wrong and that along with sex and pornography, I want to be done with it.
However, as humans we have a tendency to visually imagine the things we write and speak about. And my mind was busy.
Not five minutes after I wrote my final say on the matter: October 10th, 3:30 p.m.
I thought I would be able to stop at the one Angel Dark video. But one Angel Dark clip became three Angel Dark clips. And the last Angel Dark clip led to a Melanie Rios threesome clip, which is the best I’ve seen in a while, I must say.
But you see what pornographer does to me? How it panders me? How it caters to my lowest desires and exploits my weaknesses. Even before I came across this word, three hours ago, I ended the post with: I have fallen weak.
I can hear the spirit of Pander laughing at me now. “So who’s getting holy now?”
Going back to all the legal First Amendment talk, in another article, it is claimed that pornography is protected under the First Amendment as it meets the requirement of being distributed works of “serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value.” Oh please. “Protected speech” is what they called it. Oh double please.
Pornography has no real value and regardless of how it’s sugar-coated, is still prostitution caught on film. Should one be illegal and the other legal? No. Should they both be legal or both be illegal? In terms of morality, it should be illegal. In terms of personal freedoms, they should both be legal.
And where do I fit in? I’ve been pandered by porn. Take me to jail.
A comment on my previous post sparked a new wave of thinking on this whole topic of masturbation as a sin. While I remember a Bible being present when I first inquired into the matter 20 years ago, I don’t remember any scriptures being quoted from it. This is clearly why my Mother and her friend came up with the answer of no; they couldn’t find anywhere that it says “yes”!
As I ponder it all now, I’ve figured that it’s a matter of personal will; I think God allows us a few of those in our lifetime. “Here, I think I’ll let you try to figure this one out.” I believe it’s entertaining for Him to watch us try.
In such cases, though, when I’m left to lean to my own understanding, my decisions are fueled by the way a situation makes me feel. Because I have been on this cleanse for a few months now, I am starting feel and perceive things differently than I have before.
Now that I’ve had more time to contemplate the subject further, it seems that I’ve never really liked the way I’ve felt after masturbating. The key word here is after. I do love the feel of an orgasm; it is a very unique release that I’m quite intrigued by, in case you hadn’t noticed (hence the reason I am admittedly a bit obsessed with the idea of sharing one with another person, specifically one I love, preferably the one I’m married to.)
But if like me, you’ve only experienced an orgasm on your own, it’s in the aftermath that you feel the true emptiness of it all. It’s not like when you climax with a partner and the two of you can lay there and soak in the magic together. That’s the beauty of an orgasm: to be able to look over at your partner-in-the-sublime and whisper to each other, “Wow.”
In this view, the answer is clear: orgasms aren’t meant to be had alone. Orgasms are meant to be shared. You and another person are to touch and caress and stroke and fondle and grasp each other all while proclaiming genuine “I adore yous” and “You’re beautifuls”, filling up the love cup with every sensation until it overflows.
That’s what making love is and it is only through making love that you enjoy the real experience of the orgasm. You can’t actualize this if all you have to look over to when you’ve stopped shaking is a body pillow and a flickering candle light.
It just seems to take both the fun and the purpose out of the orgasm. Similarly, it’s just not the same when you climax with someone who you are 1) not truly in love with AND 2) who is not truly in love with you. We are talking about making love the right way, here; everything else is just, excuse my language, f*cking and c*mming. Forgive me for being so crude.
I know that many may disagree with me; especially those who have been experiencing generic orgasms all this time thinking it was the real thing. And I suppose until I experience the real orgasm for myself, I can’t say for sure.
However, I know what I’ve had in the past, and I know what I’ve been lacking. There were some key audiovisual elements not in place. I want more “I adore yous” and “You’re beautifuls” and less “Turn arounds” and “Bend overs”! In other words, I don’t want to have sex or f*ck anymore. I want to make love.
And I don’t want to experience anymore orgasms alone either. I asked in my previous post if the love partner was the holiness factor in both sexual intercourse and masturbation. I believe the answer to that is yes.
I don’t know if I’ve taken the following scripture out of context but it’s one that always comes to mind when considering the purpose of physical intimacy. It’s in Ecclesiastes 4:11 where it reads:
”...if two lie down together, then they have heat: but how can one be warm alone?”
How can one be warm alone? How can one be fulfilled alone? How can one be truly satisfied alone? And this is in the context of an intimate relationship, separate from one’s overall personal relationship with him or herself.
Two are meant to lie down together; we are not meant to experience intimacy on our own. How can we? Doesn’t the saying go, anything not done right is not worth doing? Is it really worth it to arouse feelings, emotions and sensations meant to be shared with another when you are in the shower or in your bedroom alone? Or am I looking too deep into this. I have been smoking a lot of marijuana over the past few days; not sure of the effect this is having on my judgment.
Still, in closing, other than this interpretation of the above scripture, I have yet to find where in the Bible it states plainly that masturbation is a sin/act of sexual impurity. However, I have found (by way of my own speculation and corresponding revelations from God) that when examining masturbation, we have to examine its purposes and goals in relation to sexual intercourse. If theses aims are the same, then it could be said that the impurities are the same as well.
So does this mean that I’ll be adding “masturbation” alongside “sex” on my list of things to save for marriage? I’m considering it. Will I be as strong as resisting the temptation for empty gratification? I don’t know. All this talk about masturbation is poking a bit at dormant desires. I guess I should end this examination before it leads to a sexamination, albeit one-sided.
Woe is me. I need a man.
So I am on this mission now to discover whether or not masturbation is a sin.
I am going through this whole “make myself more holy” cleanse, and sexual impurity was at the top of the list of things that needed to be X’ed from the list.
I have already given up on sex: both by choice and because of the fact that I live in a place where I have no choice.
And it feels pretty good, actually. 8 months clean and I feel as if I am returning to a place of purity. I’ve literally had my fill of men so it’s refreshing to feel, well, fresh again. (edit: That wasn’t my best sentence but it does have a nice rhyme flow, doesn’t it?)
But you get my point, right? Since I’ve stopped having sex, I have noticed positive changes in my pH balance. I rather enjoy not having to buy pantiliners.
I’ve also began purging myself of my former pornography addiction. Oh, like you don’t have or have never had one. When your parents keep “Banging in Bangkok” and “Candy Stripers” right next to “Indiana Jones”, you get exposed to certain things as a five-year old. I started watching young, too too young.
Anyway, for about 6 months or so, I had a secret Tumblr page dedicated solely to all of my sexual fantasies and sadly, amongst my comments and personal reflections, there were a lot of photos of lesbians, porn nun comic strips, and group sex videos (don’t judge me).
Now, I wasn’t an every day smut-hog but there have been several occasions when I’ve put in a work-day’s worth of hours watching porn videos. Too bad this addiction didn’t come with a payroll (though it definitely came with a cost).
I’ve always had an issue with how I would feel afterwards; especially when my hardcore late-shift affected my daily functioning. Lately, though, especially since I’ve started this cleanse, the feeling has become more overwhelming. It was no longer only the regret that I could have spent those hours doing something more productive, like sleeping; and the additional kind of icky feeling, similar to how you feel after having sex with someone you really didn’t want to have sex with.
But it also became painful to deal with the awareness that I’m doing all this before God; a jealous God who’d rather have all that time and attention directed toward Him.
So I deleted that blog and am currently one month porn-free. I can keep it going as well. This is actually one of the easiest vices to get rid of.
I can’t say the same thing for my tendency to want to feel a little something, if you will, from time to time. Devoid of physical intimacy with a lover and living vicariously through those who are doing those acts which as of now almost seem foreign to me, I am left to my own devices.
As I said before, I started young. Though I saw my first porn movie at 5-years old, my earliest memory of masturbating is when I was 11 years old. I’ll never forget the day I first posed the question presented in this post. I always wondered what my Mother and her friend discussed after I left the living room that day. For all my mothers and aunties of pre-teen girls: how would you feel if your 12-year old asked you if masturbation was a sin? How would YOU answer that?
I’m still too embarrassed to ask my Mother if she remembers. One day, though…I just HAVE to know what went through her mind. One thing I remember, is that there was a Bible present and that in the end, the answer was no. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Where was I? Oh yeah, so that’s 20 years of twinkle-tickling (cute name for it, eh). 20 years of laying under running water faucets and rubbing up against pillows. 20 years of finding odd things to use as dildos. 20 years of exploring all the ways I can do the one thing a man has never made me do: have an orgasm.
Now before I get into that, I want to tell you a little story.
I have an intense relationship with my shower-head. I’ve often compared it to a representation of God’s love. I know that’s a bit extreme but come on, what feels better than a hot shower after a long day? That one time where you can be completely alone to reflect on and wash off the day. (Or if you’re showering in the morning, what better way to start the day than with splashes of refreshment?)
After a hard day, though, a hot shower feels like all that may be going wrong in your life is being washed away; and isn’t that what God does for us? Wash us of all of our sins, our impurities, our dirt? Awaken us, revitalize us, cleanse us?
Last night while showering, I pondered these thoughts, and it occurred to me that if in fact the above analogies are true, then too often I have sprayed God’s love directly onto my clitoris. Oh, it sounds so dirty to say it. Is it wrong to add that I achieve only the best immediate orgasms ever?
Or is the entire situation just wrong?
In this same shower session, I spoke directly to God about my concerns (yes, I talk to God ALL throughout the day; but our shower talks are the best), and I found myself coming up with all kinds of questions and justifications on how I could make this masturbation thing as non-sexual (i.e. more holy) as possible (if possible).
The way I see it, what makes sexual impurity so impure is the element of lust involved. When I make out with myself to pornography, I am obviously consumed with the distorted passion (if you could call it that) moaned by the images being programmed into me. Maybe a bit overly descriptive but it is what it is.
When pornography isn’t present, I rely on both this programming and a viewing of the coveted “maybe one days” in my mind. I’d make the best movies, by the way. My imagination is wild, God help me.
As far as my beloved shower head is concerned, I’ve also recreated scenes in the midst of flowing water and steam, but I’ve just as often simply happened upon my happy spot while rinsing off suds.
I actually prefer this kind of accidental occurrence as it is not sparked by lust but a random stimulation. I think.
I am not ALWAYS craving an orgasm by the way. I haven’t had sex in 8 months and I don’t miss it. Like pornography, sex hasn’t proved difficult to turn away from. But doesn’t that I am a woman and have needs argument work here? Aren’t one of my needs a healthy orgasm from time to time? Not every day; but every once in a while?
Or is the same reason why sex before marriage is frowned upon also applicable masturbation? Is the holiness factor the husband? Hmmm, I’m not really seeing the connection.
But speaking of a husband, I do want to get married one day. Part of my holiness mission involves my not having sex until I get “a ring on it”, as they say. Well, is it wrong to want to be in my best sexual shape when that day comes?
And by that I mean, for starters, being able to bend and move with sounding like a rickety rocking chair.
This is one of the justifications I came up with last night, taking into consideration that I often simulate sex movements while masturbating, removing some of the more naughty elements by turning it all into exercise!
And come on, is it wrong of me to want to be able to roll my hips in a fluid motion while simultaneously moving up and down in a squat position? Doesn’t my future husband to be deserve that instead of my creaking and cracking on honeymoon night?
True enough, I have come to factor in that one of the reasons why I have never been able to have an orgasm with a man is, on a spiritual level, because he wasn’t my husband. Years ago I said that I’m going to marry the first man who brings me to an orgasm not acknowledging that the marriage has to come first.
This could very well be the only reason why I haven’t been able to have an orgasm and I accept that. However, in another justification and going back to a point made earlier, I wondered if it’s also because I haven’t truly learned how to connect to my body during sex.
I mean, don’t get me wrong; I’ve had a lot of great experiences and have been brought to many a climax (which is different from an orgasm by my definition and yet another blog post).
But it seems that in addition to the energy provided by your partner, sex involves a lot of self-awareness, especially when hoping to achieve an orgasm. Well, for women, anyway. It doesn’t take much for men reach an orgasm and many of them wouldn’t know a climax if it tickled them in the balls.
For us girls, though, we have to be both mutually in tune with our partner and completely in tune with ourselves. Although I have yet to experience the big “O”, I know that this has to be the key; particularly because this element is characteristically missing from my sexual profile.
This is evidenced in the fact that when I masturbate without any additional stimuli, it takes me ages to cum. (Is there another way to say that other than “have an orgasm”? The c-word is just so…pornish.)
The shower head (removing it’s holier comparison) is like a vibrator and dirty movies get me so, um, fired up, that it’s just…easier. Sometimes it just takes a touch; hours of voyeurism can do that to you.
But when all I have is myself, the gratification is not as immediate. That wild imagination of mine can only take me so far. Plus, I find that most of my time is spent trying to figure out what makes me feel good. Isn’t that kind of sad considering my age? Like I should know this by now, right?
So this is another part of getting myself into sexual shape, both for myself and my future husband to be. I need to learn how to be more self-focused during masturbation; turning off the movies and programmed thoughts and remaining completely present during the act, fully aware of the way I move my body, areas I touch, how and when I touch them.
It is hoped that this will enable me to be more self-focused during sex. Like, if I am fully aware of what makes me feel good on my own, I can add in this element when it’s lacking in sexual acts with another.
This is easier said than done as I realize that this is also a matter of shyness. Masturbation has become such a personal thing for me, I’ve never been comfortable with touching myself in front of another person. This may be the real reason why I’ve never had an orgasm, on the surface level, that is.
But this is not only about being able to touch myself in certain places or get my partner to touch me in certain places during sex. The key here is presence. Eckhart Tolle’s books have definitely helped me to understand the importance of being continually in the moment. I think that doing so during sex could lead to a totally tantric experience and I feel that in order for it to manifest with a partner I must first learn how to achieve it for myself.
So…I had my first practice session last night.
In the beginning, it was a bit awkward. It was a toss-up between trying to keep my mind clear of perversion, focusing on what and how my body was feeling, and wondering if what I was doing was right.
The solution: music. For the record, I think that “Messenger” by Blonde Redhead is a fine tune for feeling yourself. I realize now that this was cheating in a way (music is stimuli, after all) but give me a break, will ya? It’s a process, this self-discovery.
But even the music became a distraction as I had to listen to it on my iPod so as not to wake the fam; the headphones kept coming out and I had to manually repeat the song (as in the moment, I hadn’t time to consider which of the other 250+ songs would do the trick; at press time, “Messenger” has been added to the Me-Time Playlist, and depending on the verdict I reach by the end of this post, more songs may follow).
Eventually, I just killed the headphones altogether and just got it all over with already. I did a great job of keeping lust out of it all, and I learned a few new things about myself, but admittedly I failed at keeping it fully me-centered, zero stimuli.
It made me wonder if it is even possible to do so? I think I did get a small glimpse of my potential. But I still don’t know if, sans lust or consumed with it, masturbation is haram (as my Arab friends would say).
When I finished, I sat up and evaluated my thoughts. I did note a significant difference in how I felt in the end before and how I felt then. I didn’t feel as dirty and I don’t recall feeling any regret (although I was a bit tired in church the next day; don’t judge me).
But it still didn’t feel…right. It also didn’t feel wrong which leads me to consider that maybe it is right and I just did it wrong.
Sigh. No. Still doesn’t feel right.
I so badly want to ask my Pastor about it but how weird would that be? Not saying this would happen but we do have a natural tendency to envision the things people tell us, and I’d rather not give the Pastor such a visual.
He did say something in church (the day after my session, ironically) about people not being able to resist sexual lusts (or did he say urges) within the flesh. How more ironic that he was speaking of the “spirit of defiance”.
Defiance: open resistance, bold disobedience. Synonyms: challenge - dare - provocation
Was my coming up with justifications for ways masturbation can be a good thing instead of acknowledging it’s relation to other sexual impurities an act of open resistance on my part? Was I challenging God? Did I already hear the answer when God and I talked about it last night but continued on with both shower love and bedroom simulations, in the same night, as an act of bold disobedience? Was Pastor’s sermon (though more political in context) my answer? Is masturbation a sin carried out by the spirit of defiance?
Looking back on my justifications, I suppose my creaking hip bones is nothing a little Pilates can’t fix. Plus, considering that God knows all of our desires and needs, surely the man He’s crafted for me won’t be one who I’d have to SHOW how to please me; he’ll just know, right?
As far as being present, this is a daily way of being that should be achieved on all levels. If you can be present in every aspect of your life, surely presence during sex won’t be an issue.
I even pondered the health benefits of orgasms as a justification but immediately dismissed it. Not denying that such benefits exist; I would just rather obtain these benefits in other ways until I can have an orgasm the right way, at the climax (I’m writing that post next), with my husband. Hmmm, I guess I am seeing the connection now.
Sigh. So I think I have my answer. God is reminding me now of Matthew 6:33, which reminds us to seek Him first. And He’s not in my clitoris; He’s just not.