The secret men wanted: how childhood desire shaped a woman's sex life
At 11, a candy man’s unsettling proposition – a free cone in exchange for a glimpse of something he claimed we ‘didn’t have’ – planted a seed of shame and a disturbing awareness of my own value to men. It was the first, brutal lesson in how my body was perceived, not as an autonomous entity, but as an object of desire.
A childhood of silence: the missing education
My adolescence was defined by a startling absence: no discussion of pleasure, no exploration of boundaries, just the stark warnings against pregnancy and STIs. Sex was framed as a fear, a risk, a performance dictated by male expectations. We were taught to associate it with shame and danger – a stark contrast to the carefree, playful atmosphere of my all-girls’ school.
The performance of desire
Growing up, I learned to perform desirability, prioritizing the needs and expectations of men over my own. It was a relentless pursuit of validation, fueled by the belief that my worth was measured by their attention. This performance extended into my early adult relationships, where I frequently found myself ‘spectating’ my own encounters, lost in my thoughts and disconnected from my body – a chilling testament to the ingrained disconnect.
Unearthing the truth: sex therapy and a new beginning
Years spent struggling with orgasm and a profound lack of enjoyment finally led me to sex therapy, where I began to dismantle the myths and assumptions I’d internalized. Aleks Trkulja, my therapist, helped me realize that my struggles weren't about me, but about a systemic issue – a culture that prioritizes male pleasure and silences female desire. Through targeted exercises and a willingness to confront deeply rooted beliefs, I started to reclaim my body and my sexuality.
A shift in perspective: challenging the status quo
I began questioning the societal narratives that equate virginity with goodness and experience with badness. The ‘Madonna-Whore’ dichotomy, perpetuated by pop culture and ingrained in my upbringing, had shaped my entire understanding of sex. It wasn’t until I started prioritizing my own pleasure and setting clear boundaries that I finally began to experience genuine intimacy – and, incredibly, to orgasm consistently.
Beyond orgasm: a reclamation of self
Ultimately, my journey wasn’t about achieving a specific physical outcome; it was about uncovering a deeper truth: that sex should be a source of pleasure and fulfillment, not a tool for validation or a performance dictated by others. It’s a revelation that has profoundly reshaped my relationship to my body, my desires, and my self.