This is my favourite thing to talk about. Humans are so absurdly weird about sex. It is literally one of the most natural things, yet we put so much effort into manufacturing it.
We get tattoos to look good naked (or because we can’t afford therapy), we buy toys and blindfolds and, most importantly, we have that playlist. I know you have one too, don’t lie. My friend had the best one I’ve ever encountered and after her breakup, she renamed it to You Fuck Like A Nun. Absolute metal.
I know why we put so much faith into sex, I’m not stupid. Most of us only do it once in a while and for most, but not all, it goes hand in hand with relationships.
What scares me tremendously are people who equate their self-worth with their sex life. A partner of mine once asked in the aftermath if they were the best I’d ever had — they were, and I told them so.
I asked why they asked, and, dear reader, their answer almost broke my heart (and I’m paraphrasing): “Because I’m not good at much else, so if I can be good at this and make you happy, then maybe you won’t notice the rest.”
My heart shattered. They incredible, fascinating and beautiful person, but had begun to associate their self-worth with my pleasure. That is fucked and not in a fun way. No matter how terrible you are at going down on somebody, or how sloppy you are with your hands or whatever I promise you that it doesn’t eclipse the rest of you. Sex is such a small part of our lives, don’t let it take on a disproportionate importance.
Don’t worry about “perfect”
There’s this idea — and I blame porn and really horny, smutty poets — that each and every orgasm has to be a mind-shattering, life-redefining, soul-bearing experience.
Sex should be fun — obviously, shoot for the stars but don’t let “perfect” stand in the way of a good time. More often than not, “perfect” comes after you’ve worked out the kinks. Tell them what you like and what you don’t. Throw some spice in there, experiment, break the expectations and keep it light-hearted.
I know I spent a whole paragraph telling you not to worry and just do your best, but practice — and patience — make perfect. That’s the beauty of learning and discovering with a partner.
It takes a while, sometimes a long time, to know somebody like that. You have to learn not only what they like, but also how they communicate that they like it, as well as what they’re doing just because they think you’ll like it.
But listen, I’m not a sex therapist, nor am I Johnny Sins. I’m just one dude. I write in hopes of showing some nervous fuckers they aren’t alone. Yes, there are some people who are Aphrodite’s gift to the human race, but most of us are just as nervous, self-conscious and scared as the next person. So do your best and take this advice only as far as you want.
Go with the flow and be flexible. I know what I’m about to say won’t work for everybody, but I tend to try everything at least once. Much like Brussels sprouts, you won’t know that you don’t like something until you try it.
As it turns out, I tremendously enjoy Brussels sprouts when they’re grilled and glazed in maple syrup. That said, I must admit I’ve never brought maple syrup into the bedroom (except for some sneaky midnight Brussels sprouts) but, who knows, maybe one day I will. Try new things. If it doesn’t work, call a timeout. If it does, add it to your toolbelt.
That’s all sex is, really: trying things. So, take it off the pedestal, laugh at yourselves, enjoy the intimacy, and don’t take it so seriously. Sex is meant to be fun, and as long as your heart’s in the right place, nothing will stand in the way of a good time. Know your weaknesses, and play to your strengths.
And since I would be remiss if I didn’t put some sex advice in a piece titled Let’s talk about sex, little circles folks. Little circles in all things — at least that’s my secret.