I don’t like to preface things, but in this case, please indulge me. Before I get into the nitty gritty of this post I want to be very clear that I am only speaking from my perspective and not at all trying to be prescriptive nor adversarial. I’m not trying to “yuck anyone’s yum” I’m trying to reconcile and articulate the complicated response I had to the #30DayOrgasmFun challenge. I’m thinking out loud and you may not agree, that’s fine, but please don’t mistake my point of view for judgment.
When I first read the tweets about #30DayOrgasmFun I immediately felt uneasy. In general I find the Naughty Twitter and sex blogger communities very comfortable, which, if you know me beyond my blog, might be surprising. I am a true omni-vert. I’m very capable of being social, leading, presenting, public speaking, working a crowd, etc. but at my core I am much more comfortable 1:1 and I need privacy and quiet to recharge. This also means that I am really, really shit at joining in on things. It is a challenge to stomach the sense of expectation that comes with participation. In my “real” life I miss out on all sorts of opportunities because I don’t often feel motivated or safe enough to join activities, events, groups, etc. One of the most magical things about this writing community is that I feel incredibly safe here. I join in on memes, I am planning on making the journey to Eroticon 2019 and I share and participate quite freely for the most part. The #30DayOrgasmFun concept stopped me dead in my tracks and I went “Nope, never, not for me. Can’t! Won’t! No!” But then I went, “But why not?”
As a concept, I love it. It’s sex positive, body positive, and really, who doesn’t love to come? I completely recognize that it’s non competitive and meant to be about taking time and pleasure for yourself. These are all good things. At least they are if you feel that all of that is possible, viable, desired and effective for you.
For me, I personally come up against a few roadblocks here:
Orgasms for mental health maintenance
April is a month that many use to bring recognition and awareness to mental health, and like so many, I need to actively administer to my own mental health to maintain my quality of life. While I completely agree that orgasms are great for stress relief and the biochemical euphoria is great for brain chemistry, for people who struggle to orgasm, regularly or periodically, a whole month of daily orgasms can be a challenge that’s not worth waging, particularly if so much of the dialogue around it is celebratory and congratulatory. I personally have been re-learning the mechanics of my orgasm in light of new medication that has reduced my over all sex drive and made orgasms elusive, slow to achieve and sporadic. For me, there’s no upswing to my mental health if I’m trying to clock in a daily orgasm that just won’t happen. For me this was just another thing I didn’t feel I could join because I knew I wouldn’t be up to the challenge, despite there being caveats and support. It felt like all or nothing and I couldn’t get past that.
One is the loneliest number
So, here’s a confession that I’m uncomfortable making but I’m pushing myself here: I don’t like to masturbate. Never have. I can hear the collective eyebrow raise happening as people read this. But, but …. you’re a smut writer/sex blogger/toy reviewer …whaaaaat? Yeah. I know. It’s weird, but I have never enjoyed it. I can come that way, I’m not ashamed of it, I don’t think it’s problematic, I just find it really boring and 99.9% of the time I’d rather go without until I’m with someone. I like the sounds and smells and closeness of another person. So for me, not only does thirty orgasms in thirty days feel like a lot of pressure for me, it would also be a lot of pressure for my partners. I’m sure they’d be willing to help, and I get that the whole month isn’t explicitly about masturbating, but still, I just couldn’t engage. I also don’t prescribe to the dialogue that you can’t/don’t know your body if you don’t masturbate. I don’t think that it’s a requisite for healthy, active sexuality at all, so there’s really not much motivation there.
Many different “me times”
If I’m making a point of adding more “me time” to my routine, orgasms are not the top priority. Cooking, reading, yoga, meditation, writing, all those would come before coming. I feel like by sharing that I’m marginalizing myself from the herd. Impostor Syndrome, population: me.
So what is the alternative? I refuse to be nasty or snide while my friends and colleagues joyously pop-off throughout April and share their experiences. I read a tweet just this afternoon that referred to the whole project as empowering to all be in together. I agree, I support that, but with a slightly heavy heart, from the sidelines.
I know that my “issues” here are my own, and it has been so hard to articulate, and I appreciate the generous dialogue that people have entered into on this topic. My hesitations have been met with sympathy, empathy and non-judgment. I believe in the power of self care, it’s a new concept for my life, but I know it works and you get out of it what you put in. I want to follow along (not usurp or disrupt) with #30DaysOfSelfCare and do 30 kind things for myself because self love is essential and worthwhile. Who knows, maybe some of those days, will even be orgasmic.