Taking Matters Into My Own Hands: Why I’m Trying to Masturbate More

diy-sex

// button image from Tumblr; mini-collage by moi.

I don’t talk about it much—I’m not one to brag—but the sex I have with my husband is amazing. Even after 8+ years together, our sex continues to get more & more exquisite. And the frequency of our sack sessions seems to be increasing, too.

It’s wonderful—beautifully, lusciously, cosmically orgasmic.

But.

An interesting thing happens when you’re in a long-term partnership with someone & have such amazing sex with them: The sex you have with yourself tapers off quite significantly.

Or maybe it’s just me.

When we first moved in together (& before I ditched my vibrator), I masturbated way more often than I do now, which I attribute to a few things: Jonathan was working a typical 9-5 back then which left me—unemployed, directionless, & home alone—plenty of free time to jill off.

I was also just beginning my sexual liberation journey, & self-pleasure was the first point of contact for me as I uncovered my erotic power as well as a safe place for me to explore the territory of my adult sexuality, especially when sex with him didn’t come easy.

These days, things are much, much different. Not only does my sexual identity feel more mature & grounded, but I’ve got shit to do. I can’t spend as much time as I used to to self-pleasure during the day. And the great sex I have so often with Jonathan only compounds all of this. It’s always seemed a little pointless to take matters into my own hands, when he does it so well already.

But lately I’ve been thinking about the relationship I have with myself, about how I was mine before I was anyone else’s, & how the embodiment of that truth should extend to my own solo sexual relationship.

Because it doesn’t, & I want to change that.

One of my erotic intentions for 2015 is to masturbate more. The purpose of this intention isn’t necessarily to get off more frequently (though that is a delicious bonus). I’m mostly interested in masturbating more as a pilgrimage to coming back to my individual sexuality; to remind myself of the inherent power within that erotic relationship; to empower my sexuality with my own hands & not rely solely on my partner to fulfill my sexual needs.

Even if he does it superbly, even if we do create sex magic together.

If I’m being honest, I’ve relinquished some of my erotic power to my husband by relying solely on our sexual relationship to provide me pleasure & release.

Unconsciously, I’ve made him responsible for my orgasm.

So, masturbating is now an expression of me taking my erotic power back. It’s an opportunity to hold myself accountable to my orgasm. It’s a way for me to renew a sexual relationship with myself, the first relationship there ever was, outside of my partner’s involvement.

And that leaves me here: Doing my best to touch myself more.

I’ve been surprised by how challenging this has been, as well as the kind of things this is bringing up for me.

For one, masturbating is usually the furthest thing from my mind most days. Even though I adore my orgasm, even though it makes me feel incredible & brings me instantly back into my body, I’d rather do other things instead. And not even the must-do things, like managing my business or buying groceries, but the silly little pointless things, like plucking my eyebrows or scrolling endlessly through my Tumblr feed.

And it’s not that I’m without amorousness. Whenever I have them (I have them often), I tend to associate my lustful feelings to partner. When I feel an undeniable urge in my body to get sexual & release, I immediately refer to him—Is he busy? I wonder if I should jump his bones right now or wait until later. . .

It’s as if my sexual expression is so connected to our partnered sex life that it doesn’t seem to exist without it.

Of course, there’s a gorgeous aspect to that. I mean, I am married, & married sex is incredibly enjoyable (I can’t get enough), so there’s no harm in that being the instinctual first choice. But I’ve been feeling uneasy by how much importance I place on our married sexual relationship over my own solo sexual relationship. It feels unbalanced.

Another thing that’s come up for me as I play with playing with myself more is my love/hate relationship with pornography & how often that dictates my emotional availability toward masturbation. Going on porn sites drains me—the flashing grotesque ads, the endless pop-ups, the slew of plastic women perfectly equipped to meet the standards of the male gaze. . .

It’s evasive, but mostly it’s exhausting. And while I can come without visual stimulation, it certainly helps. A good porn video is hard to find amongst the garbage, & sometimes I simply don’t feel like digging.

But I’m most surprised by how often I find myself doing battle with harmful belief systems around my orgasm, beliefs that I thought I got rid of long ago, beliefs which keep me from seeking my orgasm on my own. In some ways, I still see my orgasm as cumbersome, arduous, convoluted. And on the days were I do decide to take the time for myself, I’m pushing away daunting thoughts of, It’s going to take too long for me to reach climax, so why bother? 

That isn’t true, by the way. My orgasm, when my heart & body is fully in it, is really quite easy-breezy. Still, these thoughts somehow arise.

I really didn’t anticipate how challenging this would be. This voyage of coming back to my sexual individual self is so layered.

But it hasn’t been all uphill.

In taking time to re-forge a solo sexual relationship with myself, I’ve been reminded of the innate power of my sexual energy. That is has the capacity to awaken my creative muses, inspiring me to show up to my work fully. That it can open me to heights of arousal in & connection to my body with a depth that isn’t always available when I have sex with my husband.

And, most interestingly, I’ve found that as I continue to seek this solo sexual relationship, it only enriches my shared sexual relationships. Because subconsciously I thought that masturbation would somehow subtract eroticism from my married sex life. But it’s complemented it sensually.

Or course, this is all a work in progress, & I’ve certainly slipped a few times in keeping my once-a-week quota. But that doesn’t matter as much to me as rebuilding a foundation to my erotic self that has gotten lost in the shuffle of long-term commitment.

I was my first.
I am responsible for nurturing that union.
I am responsible for my orgasm.

© 2017 SLL / Fueled by orgasm and fierce self-care