Last night someone asked me about my sexual fantasies and what they were and why I hadn’t told him about them. I got very anxious about the direction this conversation was going – and not because I’m ashamed of what I fantasize about. I am a very confident woman when it comes to my sexuality, within certain safe couplings and locations where judgment is rare and the possibility of damaging my relationships and reputation doesn’t exist.
What made me squirm was the question itself. See, I was asked by someone who I don’t feel I know well. And although I am, as stated above, a sexually confident woman, I don’t share my sexual fantasies with everyone who knows me. People are not entitled to my intimate desires just because I’ve had sex with them, either. Sex and fantasy are 2 different realms in my microcosm. Additionally, in order for me to be the bold, assertive lover I enjoy being, I have to have unconditional trust with my partner.
I’m sure this seem s very strange to some. Those whose lives have taken a different path than my own – without abandonment issues, problems with authority and who value their physical and emotional self equally. But, sex is what it is to me and letting someone into my heart, where I keep my deepest thoughts, desires, hopes and dreams, generates breathtaking fear and a tightening in my chest.
My companion’s question also made me sad. So sad I couldn’t look into his eyes. He didn’t know that my heart would ache for someone else when he brought up the fantasy topic. How could he have known the love and security I felt with someone else in my recent past – and how badly I’ve longed for it this past year? I tried to put on a smile as I thought frantically for a believable answer to his question. Although we’re not emotionally intimate, he knows me well enough to know that I was struggling and I’m also a terrible actress when someone gets too close for comfort.
I decided to be plainly honest with him. I explained in order for me to feel comfortable telling him what I fantasize about, I’d have to trust him implicitly – and that I didn’t. Not yet at least. I went as far as to touch on the feelings I have for the one I’ve lost. I didn’t cry as I spoke, but at times it was all I could do not to let the tears fall. I admitted that I had a special relationship once – and that I don’t have that with anyone else and fear I may never again. I explained that love, acceptance and understanding were the foundations of what I’d had before, that I never felt safer in my life than when I was with that lover. Then I quickly changed the subject.
While he took the hint and started flirting with the waitress and waxing on about his sushi craving, my mind went to my past. I tried to be objective versus emotional, and look at why I miss what I had so much. It’s been a year and I am still so affected by his absence, it’s crippling at times. In a word, it was “effortless.” I remembered when he and I first met, how we discussed the terms of our engagement so directly, yet so flirtatiously I could hard sit still - and our first several sexual encounters, how nervous he was. Oddly, I have no recollection of how a casual sexual tryst evolved into the deepest love and most unconditional acceptance I could have imagined. How has that escaped my mind? And, why? I feel cheated – without the specific chain of events or feelings I experienced, I can’t hope to replicate it. Therefore, my desperation extends from my past to my present and now into my future… and it is up to me, solely, to put those feelings in check and relegate them to my past where they belong. I need to focus on what’s ahead – not waste time reliving the past. I KNOW this, but I don’t know how – yet.
What was my date’s motivation? Surely his primary goal was to find out what I want from him sexually. But this morning, as I reflect on his question and my response, I wonder if he was also trying to gage my trust in him. I find it interesting that although he asked me and didn’t get an answer, he never offered his own fantasies. I find that curious because when I ask people questions, I usually ask because I do care, but also because for whatever reason, I want them to ask me the same question, too. He never offered his answer and I never asked. The next evening, as we lounged on his couch watching “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner” I asked him the same question and he said he wouldn’t answer because he asked me first. Hhhmmmm… why the power play?
I’m not starting anything like this.
I know now that I can’t.