I bumped into a friend yesterday and we talked about this collaboration that Maddie and I’ve been doing for almost two months now. I told her that I think we’re really hitting our stride. What that means is that you’re in store for a lot more content from this duo.
The point to all of this is live a fuller life. To experience deeper love, greater pleasure, and, of course, juicier interactions with those you choose to.
I feel like I need a mulligan for every sexual experience I had before age 26. Sex in my early twenties was kind of like riding a fixie. There was one gear available. And maybe three moves. To all those past men I want to be like, “you don’t get it. I’m so much better now.” But why is that? Some of it is from having sex with different partners (although that’s not a requirement.) Some of it is absolutely from being significantly less freaked out about being in my own body, naked or no. But such a huge part of that growth is from sexting. No joke. Sexting: the most underutilized tool to becoming a fucking sexual ninja.
No, I’m not constantly cross-referencing the crazy shit that comes up in a sexting conversation when I’m in bed. “Wait, wait, wait what did we say we’d do three months ago. Let me find the EXACT words.” But in how little we go around talking about sex, sexting has removed all the shamey and weird charge around sex and added the super hot kind. More than that, it’s added normalcy to the whole experience. I don’t feel like a crazy person for strongly considering a threesome a la two guys and me, or the fact that in some cases I know precisely what I want my partner to do to me, or that I have some serious plans with his dick later. It’s normal. We’ve talked about it!
We make things less scary by giving them a voice. By giving them our voice. And do you know what I still struggle with in bed: saying anything out loud that doesn’t sound like I’m in a bad porno. I’m way better verbally via text. But I’m a fucking rockstar from where I was five years ago in showing up and in not being so freaked out about my wanting to be there in the first place. The more silence we have around sex and around what we want in and from sex, the scarier it is. I just didn’t realize for the longest time that my voice didn’t have to be out loud. At least not at first.
I’ve experienced the dreaded time lapse between texting someone and not hearing back for what felt like an eternity. You know what I’m talking about… “Is there something wrong? Was I offensive? Did I miss the mark? Fuck!”
At times, thoughts have come across my mind that the connection is fragile and hanging by a thread. Wondering if the slightest mistake would fracture the bond that I’ve been nurturing. Gaps and ambiguity are where my negative thoughts have an opportunity to surface. “I’m stupid, I’m undesirable, I’m weird.”
On the other side of that, texting, and many other forms of communication, require engagement. If I text my partner to ask what she wants to do for dinner and she doesn’t answer she doesn’t own what she wants. Same goes for sexting about fantasies or sexuality… “What turns you on? How and where do you like to be kissed? Touched? Fingered?” These questions, when asked through text, require engagement to create and maintain dialogue. We actually have to (and get to) own what we like and want and then state it.
And this is not something that happens in the formation of a relationship and then ends. Relationships (connections) are like any living, breathing thing, they require regular tending to. Time, attention, love, sexting, and consistency. This is simply maintenance, basically meaning to simply maintain.
Sexting is an amazing platform in this day and age to create desire and wanting. Anticipation. This requires effort and creativity to get to an even deeper place in a connection.
Enjoy the ride.