This week’s Erotic Journal Challenge prompt is ‘Never Again’ with Brigit asking us …
What have you done sexually that you would never do again (or never do again THAT WAY)? Or are there things you’ve done that you’d do but with certain changes? Is there a promise you’ve made yourself about how you will conduct yourself sexually based on events of the past? Is there some negative behaviour or thought-pattern you want to stop or re-program?
My mind automatically went to a particular dynamic from my past which is laced with many never again moments and decisions but I was struggling with what the actual crux of my never again was. Then by chance On an evening when I was too tired to write I decided to watch a movie, which is a very rare occurrence for me. The movie I decided to watch was the 2013 Lars von Trier film Nymphomaniac: Vol. I, swiftly followed by Vol. II. As I watched the tale of the main character unfold, I found my never again.
I have mentioned in various blog posts in the past that in my early days of discovering kink and in the midst of sub-frenzy I made far too many inappropriate decisions, which luckily worked out well enough but could have been disastrous if not entirely dangerous. As I watched Nymphomaniac unfold I watched the main character behave in ways that were both terrifying but in some ways all too familiar.
The general premise of Nymphomaniac for those who have seen it is the unfolding tale of a young woman’s sexual explorations from an early age evolving into her self-confessed status as a nymphomaniac. At a certain point in her life when she is in a somewhat domestic lifestyle and has become a mother she loses her ability to orgasm. She is devastated by this turn of events and ends up seeking ways in which she might find herself feeling those much longed for sensations again.
This leads her to find herself in the presence of a Sadist, being tied, beaten and subjected to at least some level of humiliation. The BDSM representation is dubious, a fact I don’t want to ignore, but I’m not going to focus on that as a topic, because it isn’t what this post is about. What struck me when I watched those scenes was how desperate she was to feel something and the lengths she would go to to make it happen.
She had to sit in a waiting room between 2am and 6am, leaving her child with a babysitter, not knowing if the Sadist in question would even deign to see her that night. One night the babysitter doesn’t arrive and she goes anyway. She leaves her sleeping toddler alone at home and sits in that waiting room, not getting picked, while her son wakes up and ends up standing on the balcony alone. This ultimately leads to the breakdown of her relationship and her never seeing her son again.
For many Mothers reading this that the above paragraph will be abhorrent, the idea of leaving your child to pursue sexual gratification is likely unthinkable and I suspect deemed even worse to leave to satisfy masochistic urges. While I watched those scenes unfold I actually cried a hell of a lot. I felt sick to my stomach because I recognised an element of myself in that character. It is always at this point I am compelled to say I never left my child alone, he was always with his Dad, always safe and always loved. I did, however, make decisions that were not conducive to being a good Mother and I live with the guilt of having made them every day.
There was a time in my life when it felt like the most important thing in the world was satisfying the urges that lay within me. They consumed my thoughts and my everyday life of being a wife and Mother was suffocating me and the only way I could see myself being able to breathe was by being that deviant I so desperately longed to be.
I have talked a little bit about the situations I found myself in during those early days fo exploring kink, but I find them incredibly difficult to write about. However, I think for this post it is important to address them. The first person I engaged in any kind of dynamic with after I had decided to leave my husband was not a person I should ever have been acquainted with. His interest in me was largely about fuelling his own ego, though I doubt he would ever admit that and his personal situation meant he had no business being involved with another woman.
There was a massive age gap, 26 years to be precise and while I don’t have any issues with age gap relationships I do believe you should go into them with your eyes open, I did not. I thought the age gap with 19 years and did not find out until later it was in fact 26. By this time we were physically involved and I had convinced myself of many falsehoods, including the fact that I was somehow okay with being part of his infidelity and that many more of his behaviours were okay with me.
This person revelled in the stares our age gap would get, encouraged risky sexual encounters that could lead to shocking other people, encourage me to masturbate at inappropriate moments, or wear inappropriate clothing to shock or arouse others, asked me for financial help, for both him and his wife, seemed to enjoy and encourage feelings of jealousy and discomfort over his involvement with other women, encouraged me to dwell on and overstate my past traumas, then somehow placing himself and some sort of saviour to my problems by providing me with the outlet I so desperately needed.
I don’t tell you all this to paint him as the villain of the piece. To be clear I went to all our meetings willing and with much excitement. When I was into it, I was totally into it, but I think it’s important to know that it wasn’t a healthy or stable dynamic to understand why I feel so passionately about my ‘never again’ when I reveal it.
Despite all the reasons I shouldn’t have met this man in real life after getting to know him online I not only met him but made meeting him my main focus in life. We had spoken on the phone a couple of times and exchanged many messages when I drove two hours away from home to meet him at hotel, not knowing what he looked like and not telling anyone where I was going. In fact, I gave people a completely false location that had anyone needed to look for me would have provided a completely pointless trail.
After this I knew I was safe with him, even if our encounters were ill-conceived in almost all other ways. About two months after that first meeting I stayed with him at his home. Or rather his marital home, when his wife was in hospital and did of course not know I was there. That visit was an eye-opener in many ways and it began the thought process needed for me to disentangle myself from that situation. That was over 4 years ago now and I am only just ready to reveal these details. Looking back I find my actions deplorable and I am thoroughly ashamed of my behaviour. I am not telling yout hat to seek sympathy or redemption, I am telling you because I think it is another important detail in understanding my ‘never again’.
Deep down I knew all along that he wasn’t a man I should be with, we were a ill fit in so many ways and I was never okay with the moral issues that were at play. I’m not a perfect person, but I do try to be a good person and in those months I knew him I was the worst version of myself that I’ve ever been. I honestly think I was an utter disgrace, I understand now why I behaved the way I did and I feel sad for the woman that I was because she didn’t know and was therefore helpless to behave in any other way.
The impulse I recognised as being present in both the character in Nymphomaniac and in my past self was compulsion. Not desire, not curiosity, not lust, just a sheer compulsion to act on our sexual and in my case kinky urges. A compulsion driven by the need to feel something, sometimes anything. Sometimes to feel anything other than numbness and sometimes to feel anything other than whatever else is burning a hole in your soul.
For me succumbing to those compulsions I had absolutely led me down a path that I now regret travelling down. Yes in some ways it brought me to where I am now, but honestly, I could have got here another way. The only thing I feel I can do with those experiences now is to share them and hope that in doing so I perhaps touch upon subjects that resonate with other folks.
My never again is, never again will I allow my life to be navigated by my sexual and kinky compulsions. That isn’t to say I’m not committed to embracing and exploring my sexual and kinky desires, as you can tell from the blog and podcast that is a huge part of my life. The difference being now is that I have a much healthier knowledge and respect for myself and my kinks.
I know from previous blog posts and previous comments others have shared with me that some of my readers may well have similar stories to mine and I want to be absolutely clear that my judgement on myself and my own actions isn’t a judgement on you or yours. For me, the decision not to allow myself to act on compulsive feelings is about making sure I am taking the time to understand my urges and act upon them in a safe manner with people I enjoy engaging with.
I’ve done kink with people for no other reason than they were offering me something I felt I just had to do regardless of who it was with or how I might feel after I’d done it. I now know that engaging in kink in those situations doesn’t actually work for me and can leave me feeling quite low and in some cases empty and a little alone. Whereas embracing kink with the right people and in the right situations does the exact opposite, it’s uplifting, fills me with positivity and makes me feel part of something amazing.