By: Sarah Reynolds, SFU student
Content warning: discussions of sexual trauma.
Yes, I’ve cried after sex, often to me for what seems like no reason. I wasn’t crying because the sex was bad, or I was in pain, or I regretted it. I cried because the sex felt good.
I was 21 when I lost my virginity. This could mean something different to everyone, and there is no right or wrong time or way to categorize your first sexual experience. Regardless of what a “first” sexual experience means to you, a plethora of emotions can come along with it. For me, it was a deeply emotional experience that seemed to swallow me whole. I was in a loving, committed relationship with a partner I deeply connected with. And yes, I very much enjoyed the sex. Yet, for some reason I still felt a sense of shame.
I didn’t expect to feel this way. Consciously, I know sex can be an important aspect of human life, and that it can be very pleasurable physically and emotionally. I spent my teenage years considering myself to be quite sex-positive, talking enthusiastically about sex with my friends, fawning over sex scenes in television shows, and even having open conversations with my mom about sexual health and safety. Despite having been diagnosed with a chronic anxiety disorder, I figured that as long as I was comfortable and in a healthy relationship with a partner I would be the perfect picture of emotional stability when I had sex for the first time.
My subconscious, on the other hand, wasn’t so easily convinced.
I began to realize I had a lot of internalized preconceptions about sex I never consciously thought about or outwardly projected. Society plays a significant role in shaping our perception of sex. Whether it be pushing us to have it, warning us not to, or labelling the entire topic as “taboo,” social stigma often contributes to our subconscious attitudes. Taneasha White, an author who wrote on sex stigma, explains, “women and feminine-identified folks are often taught their sexuality is something to be hidden and protected,” reinforced by the historical connotations of “virginity.”
This “sexual stigma” can come from various sources. Dr. Sara C. Flowers notes that internal attitudes or notions can result in “feeling shame about having a period, our body shape or size, being diagnosed with a sexually transmitted infection (STI), or our gender identity or sexual orientation.” But society and our environment also play a significant role in perpetuating sexual stigma. Despite how much I denied that some of these beliefs had no effect on me, they obviously did.
For someone with a chronic mental health condition, it can be even more difficult to navigate intrusive thoughts of a sexual nature while trying to enjoy a healthy sex life. Sexual obsessions can be a symptom of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. They cause a person to have intrusive thoughts, likely contradicting their moral values. Sexual obsessions are often assumed as taboo in nature. They can occur at any time during or leading up to sex. Sometimes this may contribute to the avoidance of sex altogether, or even compulsive sexual activity used as a response to “disprove” intrusive thoughts. From my own experience, I have triple-checked clearly unbroken condoms and broken down post-orgasm for fear that feeling sexual pleasure meant I was “doing something bad.” This sort of shame not only totally kills the mood for you and your partner, but also increases the risk of further depression and anxiety.
It’s difficult to break free from the cycle of shame that can, in many cases, severely impact not only our relationship with sex and our partners, but also our relationship with ourselves.
Everyone has different upbringings and experiences that influence the way we perceive sex. With that being said, there is no “one-size-fits-all” approach to escaping the shame that often looms over us when it comes to sex. But what we can do is focus on addressing some of the underlying causes of the shame we feel and use resources to combat this in hopes of eventually adopting sex-positive attitudes within our own sex lives. Some of the strategies I’ve used to break free from some of the shame I experience around sex and sexual pleasure include having open dialogue with my partner, recognizing unhealthy obsessive-compulsive patterns, and practicing all different forms of self-care and self-reflection. While these strategies work for me, those who have experienced a traumatic sexual experience may benefit much more from talking to a professional. Sex therapists can help individuals or couples address obstacles in their sex lives. When we break free from these sources of shame, we can work towards building healthy relationships and pleasurable sex lives.
