Sex By Elizabeth McLean

Sex. For me, it’s a reflection of the insecurities & trauma we have experienced. I chose to have sex for the intimacy. Admitting to myself that childhood trauma directly affected my sexuality always felt taboo. I didn’t grow up with physical or emotional affection. I lacked the support system that was meant to offer me comfort. I don’t have a normal understanding of what it’s like to touched for no reason. Nobody hugged me just because they could.

I guess I lost my virginity to affirm that someone wanted to touch me.

My first time having sex was last November. I’d been on my period, which I find quite funny. He’d been caring, knowing it was my first time but I’d experienced a distressing amount of pain. I just waited for it to be over. I wondered if it was something I’d need to see a doctor about after. I breathed through it & never said anything, because they always say it hurts the first time for women. It didn’t stop hurting the next dozen times though. I think I romanticised the whole experience. He had been the first person that I’d been held by. The first person to make me feel safe and comfortable, despite my first time being quite shocking. Anyway, the next morning I kissed him goodbye and got my first morning after pill. I was really ashamed actually. It felt mortifying for the pharmacist to know I’d been having unprotected sex & I hadn’t been on any birth control at the time.

I think the experience of having sex for the first time can be as significant as you wish. It meant a lot to me. I felt an unreal amount of pressure to have sex, but from myself. I guess I just wanted to prove that someone could find me attractive since I grew up an ugly fat girl with no self- esteem. I wish I hadn’t spent all those years equating my worth to how other people viewed me. The issue wasn’t how I looked, it was how other people thought it made it okay to be cruel.

It’s just extremely personal. You just can’t generalise your first experience for everyone else, or expect your friends/others to have the same view. The only overall takeaway is just… do it when it feels right. With someone you love, or someone you don’t. However if you are going to do it, make sure you’re safe. Sharing the body you’ve spent years worrying after isn’t easy. We all have our body image issues but I promise that someone will not be looking at your body & perceiving it in the same way you do. I often think about how I perceive someone when I’m about to have sex with them & I never think anything negative, so why should I assume they’re thinking these things about me? But honestly, I get uncomfortable if they DON’T address my fat in some way. I want them to touch my stomach because it’s just as important as anything else. It deserves all the appreciation & validation. It’s not something to be scared by.

I always thought I’d be too terrified to take my clothes off on front of someone else but it felt liberating, if not slightly intimidating. My body dysmorphia & mental illness really love to try ruin any self-esteem that I manage to cling to. However, just because I struggle to like my body does not mean anyone else can disrespect it. Not even I have that privilege. My body is worthy of love & pleasure even if I can’t quite understand that yet. I shouldn’t be embarrassed of something I can’t change.

Sex shouldn’t be shameful. Not all the sex you’ll have will be a mind-blowing. Sometimes it’s awkward & a little painful. There’s going to be some embarrassment from time to time. We aren’t naturally these passionate, talented beings who know how to give and receive pleasure but that’s why communication is key. Stating what feel’s good & what doesn’t.

Self-exploration & masturbation has a considerable impact on the sex you’ll have. Learning the ways that you can achieve orgasm. Another reason why communicating this is important, so we can let our partners know how to make us feel good. That’s something I need to work on. I don’t tend to communicate what doesn’t feel good & that’s not helpful for either one of us. I’ve never been able to cum with anyone else due to this, I tend to give up as it takes quite a lot of effort to get me there. I get slightly self-conscious about it in the moment. We all have sexual insecurities that make no sense to anyone but ourselves, but we need to work on them if we want to have enjoyable sex. It’s just a learning process. It takes time & emotional effort to learn to be healthy with yourself. So, placing boundaries & stating what you don’t feel comfortable with is essential if it’s going to make you feel safe.

Honestly, I hate any narrative of sex being emotionless or careless. The ability to be vulnerable is emotional. We have to let ourselves be known even just for an evening. One night stands are slightly different but I think it still applies. I always care about the feelings of the person I’ve chosen to sleep with & I want that to be mutual. I’m not saying you’re going to fall in love with everyone you have sex with, or them to you, but you should feel like this person really does care about you and your pleasure.

It took me a while to get to the place where I could understand all this. I hurt myself doing things that I knew would be bad for me, I think it was the only way for me to learn. I had to start looking after & prioritising myself. I just craved that feeling of being wanted, like we all do. Sometimes I’m terrified that no one will ever think I’m worthwhile. I’ve realised that I have a lot of issues & trauma I need to work on before I think about a serious relationship. I have to work on my attachments to people and making sure they’re kept healthy. However, my emotions, thoughts and feelings are valid & so are yours.

By Elizabeth McLean

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Art by @own.your.nudes