Saturday 25 January 2014

Sexuality As A Drugs Peddler

Sexuality is one of those things everyone has experience with in some way, but which nevertheless is so incredibly hard to define. The physical aspect of it is easy enough to catalogue and give a place. Where it gets complex is the moment emotions and feelings enter the picture, for if it wasn't for those aspects the only use of sexuality would be its reproductive nature, to be employed in a rational, when needed basis.

It thus comes down to the aspects of sexuality as entertainment and its place in human relationships. I think that hereby sexuality, or rather the act of being sexually active, should be linked to intimacy in general, specifically that of physical contact between humans in general. This process starts at a young age, even before birth with the presence of the mother somehow imprinting itself on the developing child. After birth, as a baby and child continuous caring, physical contact between the individual and their parents as well as others has shown to have a very positive effect on its social development.

The phrase 'didn't get enough love from his parents as a child' is often used in a derogatory manner - as if it's not entirely a valid excuse for any behaviour as an adult - yet current research shows a markedly different brain development for individuals who have regular positive social (physical) contact compared to those who don't. It therefore bears reminding everyone of the sheer importance of such simple motions towards others, whether it's just an embrace, a pat on the head or playful wrestling. It can literally save a child.

I used to think that my youth was just fine like that, yet recently I have been forced to recognize that this wasn't quite the case. While initially things were heading into the right direction for the first five or six years, after this a rift formed between me and my environment, including my family. I grew up without any true friends, while also not having a lot of contact with family. I kept a lot to myself, shying away from forms of physical contact. My mother remarked recently to me that even as a child I would shrug off any attempts from her to hug me.

Puberty then was the final thing to do me in. Becoming ever more estranged from my own body I would essentially ignore it for the largest part. Together with the stalled emotional development at the time, I was unable to deal with these new feelings and urges puberty introduced, something I was painfully aware of, yet incapable of doing much against. At the time I compared it to an itch. Ignore it all you want, but at some point you will be forced to admit defeat and scratch the spot in question.

Then later on this urge became a whispering, velvet voice of temptation. Being sexually active would make everything better. Getting a girlfriend would make everything right. Giving in would make my lonely, confusing life suddenly a joyful, bright experience. My response to this seduction was to even more forcefully deny these feelings, as I knew it wasn't true.

Not much has changed in that respect, many years later. The many mental and emotional scars I have suffered since then as a result of being weak and giving in have made me ever more aware of how insidious sexuality truly is have made me both more resolute in denying it access to my life, as well as more desperate about it still being there, always present in the back of my mind.

What I have been forced to admit is that the weak spot I have is that of about twenty-five years of having been isolated from proper human interaction. No caring physical contact, no friends, no fun, relaxation or feeling safe. Against this background the promise whispered by the voice of sexuality is that of safety and security in the embracing of free, mindless, casual sexual contact. This despite me having been there already, years ago, and only having horrific invisible scars to show for it. It's a kind of torture born from my own mind, induced by a desperate desire to feel loved and cared for.

In this sense this voice is exactly like a drugs peddler; offering a chance to feel really good for a little while, with the catch of always having to come back for more. It's a vile, condemnable trap. Much like not doing drugs, one should also never do sexuality. It's just not cool.


Maya

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