Dan Savage hosted Leigh Cowart to chat about their book Hurts So Good: The Science and Culture of Pain on Purpose on this week’s episode of Savage Love. As I was listening during work, I only caught bits of it but was excited to learn that our bodies and brains are complex enough to be able to interpret physical pain during sex as something erotic, to take into consideration that you’re in an aroused state and let you enjoy what in another situation would only be pain. I have wanted to explore BDSM, have my ropes and regularly ask guys to bite a little harder, but have been too scared to jump further in. I’m afraid of triggering some trauma response, especially right now when I feel I am doing so well. Plus, I’m still carrying around this shame for how I used to be in the bedroom, often channeling anger and insecurity to hammer away, to choke a little harder, to take out frustrations on mine and my partner’s bodies. This was back when I couldn’t bottom either, too angry and insecure in my sexuality to relax.  I’m also ashamed of how I used to be in the bedroom, often channeling anger and insecurity to hammer away, to choke a little harder, to take out frustrations on mine and my partner’s bodies. That’s why my sex drive had lowered since my first bout with therapy and now I’m looking to learn how to enjoy sex, pain, and pleasure to bring that drive back.  

I am going to read Cowart’s book but felt it apt to write an initial post that I can look back on, to take stock of how far I’ve come.

First, contrition for how I behaved in the past with hookups and long-term partners. I remember once waking up next to my college boyfriend and seeing all the markings I had left on his body, mostly hickies and hard slaps. I was tracing them out and we chatted about it. He said, admittedly, his friends asked him about the marks because in their med courses he routinely volunteered to take his shirt off and let them… listen to his heart? He didn’t mind it he said, but was annoyed that one of his friends said out loud that she couldn’t imagine what kind of person could enjoy receiving so much pain during sex. Clearly, my ex did and I were able to have ongoing conversations about the kind of sex we were having. Not as much for the guys I was hooking up with. I enjoyed ravishing men back then, thrusting in anger, slapping away frustration and rage. I am not there anymore, but I remember the need to feel large, imagining greatness while I was manhandling my partners.

I want to make clear I don’t feel guilty for my actions, but my intent. That was my stress relief, my therapy, when I was young. The guys I got with seemed to enjoy it, although every once in a while a guy would tell me I was a little rough the last time or complain that something was still too sore. I recall a guy telling me his nipples felt like they had chafed and that he seriously didn’t like it. I remember laughing at his text message, although in response to him I said something like, “Thanks for letting me know. I’m sorry and it won’t happen again.” I wasn’t planning on seeing him again, as back then I would already have been looking for the next guy, but neither would I have him on the list of guys I would send the infamous text, “You looking?”

Back then I wasn’t interested in their pleasure, or mine even, I just needed a release. So, once I started going to therapy, I was releasing and processing the wrath and hurt that used to drive these urges and my sex drive went down for a while. It came back for a time while I was a construction manager, working 60-80 hours a week and desperately needing a way to relieve tension. I’ve switched out of that environment and have resumed therapy, so now I’m learning ways to prioritize pleasure and joy, which has brought on its own drive. I’m still looking for release, but now it’s orgasmic and sexual release, not rage and fury driving me to the bedroom. The kind of sex I’m looking for now, the kinks I want to explore, these adventures can’t be so selfish because I’ll be looking to repeat with people, find a community of like-minded heathens.

Second, the idea of building up a community of pleasure is exciting and will be necessary for my journey into kink and BDSM. I have long term casual relationships, one that is for now only digital but I’m hoping he returns from Florida, and in the past two to three years have started making friends through friends with benefits. I find it necessary to note that we are actual friends, we meet up and hang out without sex being the primary reason, but it’s not uncommon for us all to end up somewhere, multiple bodies arranged naked and on each other. Thus far we have managed to avoid drama and perhaps it’s because there’s an informal vetting process before someone is there for the group sex, usually prior connections are drawn in to form new connections. As far as safety in kink and BDSM communities goes, from what I’ve heard on Dan Savage’s show, there is a less informal vetting process.

I’m hoping to exploit that vetting process to allow myself to feel safe, especially since I’ve had a very specific submissive scenario in mind since youth. I’ve held back on exploring kink and BDSM because I’m scared of being taken advantage of, of not being strong enough to defend myself or not being aware enough to hear my body expressing discomfort. The fantasy itself is colored by my childhood trauma and I likely shouldn’t enact the scene to the full extent. In this scene a hot domme ties me up and whips me, or paddles me, or in more recent fantasies, uses a dildo on me; the darker version has always had me using my anger to break out of the bindings, strong enough to flex them off, then use my massive cock to take out the anger on her. I suspect this scenario will remain in the background of my conscious thoughts, even as I explore the more realistic and healthier parts of it. To truly enact the scene to its fullest, I would need a domme that trusts me enough to put my hands on her. As I play and explore, I may find that the reality of such a scenario, the safeguards and restraint so as not to hurt the other person, may make it more work than it’s worth. However, I want to be clear that I’m not complaining about that, especially because I believe most of my kink partners will be men, some stronger than me. In the same way that I would want to know that these guys are gentle before and after a scene, that I can trust them not to hurt me outside of and beyond the scenario, I know any women I approach will want to know that of me. This is what I mean by exploiting the vetting process, making it work for me but also being aware of and wanting to build that security for others.

The above is really the second and third point. The second being that it’s cool to have sex with people whose presence outside of the bedroom you enjoy. The third is that the community helps keep you safe, because you’re going to be in compromising positions during scenarios. Fourth on my mind is that I have begun to allow myself, thanks to therapy, to aggressively defend myself against people who are not mindful of my boundaries. In short, my mother made me feel guilty whenever I used physical force to defend myself, warranted or not. So, in the past I have had moments of doubt before raising a hand to push away someone and panicked in crowds out of fear from scenarios in which I’d have to assert my physical presence. Wanting to not be seen in a crowd and wanting to have my physical space respected it is a difficult problem to solve. I have sidestepped this aspect of the issue because I don’t go to festivals anymore, the bands playing at these aren’t those I like enough to want to stand around in a field and the active bands I listen to now and tend to play in tiny venues or large concerts and stadiums.

It’s at bathhouses that I’ve learned how to defend myself. I was in a darkroom making out with someone and felt hands start to touch my butt and asshole. I quickly got annoyed because their fingers were too quickly invasive but first, I brushed the hands away softly but eventually grabbed wrists, threw the hand and firmly pushed the entire person away from me. I had to do that to a couple different guys, they had crowded around in that dark room, but they got the message. It didn’t register until later when I was taking inventory of the night and wondering whether it was time to go that I flashed back to an earlier cruise through the bathrooms and had a very different reaction to guys trying to do that without even the implied consent of scooting my butt toward them. An earlier time, a guy had come up behind me suddenly while I was making out with someone and tried to get a finger in as his opening move. I had stopped, pushed him away, but didn’t resume, instead I headed for the showers and left, my entire night ruined by this one awful interaction. I had every right to defend myself and to expect that my body would be treated with respect. But I was happier by how I had handled it this time, asserting myself and insisting on it, but also not letting it ruin my whole visit, not even registering until later in the day.

In summary, I am going to read Hurts So Good: The Science and Culture of Pain on Purpose and at the same time challenge myself to step into the kink community. I have reflected on the way I used pain and sex in the past and know the importance of prioritizing pleasure over hurting others. Second, I enjoy and want to continue building friendships around mutual sexual interest. Third, I want the safety and trust of the community to play out my fantasies and know I need to respect the others in that community, do the work, to build trust. Finally, I feel that I’ve recently come into a position in my life where I can assert and defend myself without panicking over that.

Best regards to future me!