I have low confidence. That is not to say I am not confident in some things, knowledge about certain topics and stuff, but in myself, not really, no. I have quite low self esteem too. It is a fragile thing and although my life pretty much validates me, it is quite a thin layer which can be adversely penetrated at any time. I keep that to myself and outwardly I think I appear neither overtly confident nor overly fragile. But those who know me properly know the truth. That group includes many of those who read the words written here, so it will come as no real surprise to hear me say this (or watch me write it, as it were.)
But sex, there is a different thing. Sex is something I know a lot about and I am comfortable talking about it. I know myself and I know what I like and what I need. My knowledge about sex is well documented here, as is my self-reflection on the various feelings it elicits and conjures up. So why is there any more to say? I should be sorted, but I know that I am not. I appear confident about sex but in reality I hide behind the veil of submission, waiting for someone else to take me where I need to go. I cannot reach that place on my own. And my lack of confidence is the reason.
A friend reminded me not so long ago that sexy comes from within. I get that. If you feel sexy and act sexy, others will see you as sexy. But I need you to make me sexy. I need you to see me as sexy and show that in order for me to feel it. And the closer I get to discovering what really makes me work, the more I learn about my weird brain and the way that it is stacked. My inner voice hates me and tells me that I am not worthy and that no one will ever love or want me. However, ironically, the voice that tells me I am too much or too difficult, is the same voice that is my ticket to where I need to be.
It feels strange that it should be so. I would think that actually the secret was to find someone who would want me and love me as I am and that would be the reassurance that I need, but it is not the case. Unfortunately. For me it seems to run deeper. I seem to need to deal with that inner voice. Have it seen and acknowledged, have those doubts validated and acknowledged to really be free of it. That is a difficult thing, for me and for those who I am with. It would be nice if being accepted for who I pretend to be was enough, but I want it to be for who I really am. And that can be a scary thing.
Intimacy, I suppose is the key. I cannot reveal anything without trusting that person and I don’t want intimacy with them unless that is the case, and unless I feel that there is a genuine connection to me. This has made sexual relationships difficult in the past. If I feel vulnerable or uncertain, it just won’t work. That is not to say that I can’t have sex – of course I can as it is just a physical thing. But without the feelings that I can trust them and that something runs between us on an emotional level, it won’t mean that much. It is nice. I like it. I can even have an orgasm. But it isn’t like the other sort.
The dying for them, the aching for them, the thinking about them, and nothing else. The feeling that I want to do as much as I can for them, that I want to show them everything, give them everything. The feeling that I want to be stripped naked before them, not literally but metaphorically. To be really seen for the person I am: the not so good stuff; the weird stuff; the dark stuff. The longing to be shattered and broken. To be seen on the inside and to be not only accepted, but loved and wanted for that. Desired, significant. Important, to them.
It isn’t easy to find. It isn’t easy to even look when you feel as I do. When you worry every day about what people think and what people see when they look at you. It sounds very shallow and self-absorbed. But it isn’t an egotistical searching for others to boost me up. It is about re-writing those years and that psychology which has left me lacking in love or acceptance for myself. It is about feeling like I am unworthy, ridiculous, unlovable. It is about hating myself and about body dysmorhpia which grew from a feeling that I would never be able to be what people wanted.
My need for erotic humiliation comes from that place. It is about embracing my own fears in a safe way. It enables me to challenge them and find another way. It means letting go of all of my protective layers and opening up, letting someone see what really lies behind the self-control which regulates me and keeps me safe from mockery and ridicule. The inner voice which tells me what to do and challenges every more with a snide comment and a disapproving glance. She does what others might do before they have the chance, and in doing so saves me from myself.
I know, of course, that what I think and feel is extreme and that even if I let go, others would not necessarily react in the way that I anticipate. But this behaviour comes from a place of years and years of default so that it has become a blueprint now. So, very tentatively, very gently, I am opening up. I am exposing myself more and more and allowing myself to shed my skin. It is calculated and it only happens when I feel safe enough to take the risk. When I have over thought every eventuality and analysed every line and feel that I can take the chance.
I am confident enough that I can have sex and not let any of this ever be known. But is there any point? It gets me so far, I suppose, but it is not something that I couldn’t live without. The dance where I slowly let someone see me and I see them, and together we explore, going deeper, just a little deeper each time, however, is very worth it. For me the emotional tops the physical every time. The physical is the expression of the emotional connection but without that, it doesn’t have the significance. It feels empty, lacking.
To let someone into your head and into your soul requires something other than confidence. Blind faith? A desire to find what lays beyond? I am not sure where it comes from but it is a feeling that I chase. For me it is the meaning, and emotional intimacy is the vehicle. I know that for others it can be too much, and that is fine, I respect that. I have someone who is willing to go there with me, and, thanks to my lifestyle choices, I have met many others who either seek the same thing, or at least seem to understand what it is I want. And that means a lot. That gives me hope.
And so I open myself up to ridicule and humiliation and rejection. To disgust and repulsion and horror. I open myself up to whatever comes my way but with these things as the fears which sit deep rooted at my core. I let go and am exposed so that you can see those things that others will not. I am adept at reading the signs and the slightest indicator, I will curl back up and hide behind the confidence that has become a well polished act. I know they say fake it until you make it, but I have faked it for long enough to know that is not the route for me. I need to embrace it to be free.