The Year Of The Poonani
Ok, so I know I’m a sex geek and totally dig anything sexological, but I have a big confession to lay down on y’all…I’m not a masturbator. I know you’re all like totally shaking your heads and rolling your eyeballs, muttering “yeah, right”. But unfortunately, I have to fess up, it’s totally true. So I made a decision I’m going to make this year all about me baby – that’s right me and my poonani are going to get a little more familiar.
Hell fire And Damnation
Growing up I had a heap of siblings and the twin and I were attached at the hip. There literally wasn’t the space or privacy for a bit of a fiddle. Also, although I have no conscious memories of ever been told to ‘not touch down there’, there seemed to be an unspoken that it was not the done thing. Of course, now I realise silences and non-dialogue can be just as damaging to the developing sexual psyche as outright bans. If it’s something soooo terrible that it cannot even be voiced , then hell and damnation ain’t got nothing on what will happen to you if you did do it…So people, if a piece of advice is to ever pass through my lips about kids and stuff, sex and growing up, it’s this – talk about it!!! Your kids’ genitals and sexual development aren’t simply going to shuffle out of the door quietly if you pretend they don’t exist.
Chasing The Boys
So growing up I never got to flick the bean and when my desires and sexual feelings began to kick in, with all those crazy-wild bodily sensations you get as a small person, I didn’t turn to myself. I was no good girl scout. I was not prepared. Instead, I fell into chasing the boys and looking for that sweet relief elsewhere. And god dam did it get me into trouble.
The Art of Masturbation
I now feel true sexual resilience comes from self-sufficiency – being a masturbator makes you master (hardy ha) of your sexual feelings, responses and sexual repertoire. You’ll become proficient in knowing your own being and how to turn yourself on – imagine the endless benefits and possibilities. Being single becomes a positively amazing space of discovery and hanging out with the person that knows you best. I’d like to kick those crappy stereotypes of masturbation and being self-sufficient in your own pleasure to the kerb. It’s not desperate, sad or lonely – it’s a fucking art.
Brave New World
So to get me on my artistic journey I did what I do best, sex geeked out and brought a whole pile of books. The book that I related to best out of them all was the iconic ‘Sex for One’ by the glorious Betty Dobson, Ph.D. I read it and wept; wept for the vulnerable child that I was who placed the responsibility of her sexual pleasure into the unsteady hands of others, wept for the loss of that time of self exploration and wept from the joy of approaching that journey now. As Betty proclaims, “The space between the thought and the action was inhibition”, so I vow to move through that space in a conscious willingness to seek new pleasures. Like Miranda, we can all step into a Brave New World of self discovery, in spite of and because of all our flawed, juicy marvellousness.