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How I Changed My Outlook on Sex
After having had the same sexual partner for 30 years, I find myself at a crossroads.
When I was young, the options were fairly clear: wait to be in a loving, committed relationship before having sex or have sex when desire met opportunity.
Reaching the age of consent at the tail end of the sexual revolution and before the AIDS epidemic hit epic proportions, I spent my college years until my mid-twenties careening from one one-night stand to another. I prided myself on my ability to stay emotionally detached with every encounter. Each one was a conquest.
I could argue that I was in touch with my masculine energy. But the truth was something darker and hidden, even from me: I was perfecting the art of self-protection. If I didn’t care, I couldn’t be hurt.
It’s easy to understand why I did this. As a young teen, I was molested by a family member — someone I had trusted implicitly who was supposed to keep me safe. I didn’t really process the experience at the time. But the body remembers.
I lost my virginity at 18 — or more accurately, I decided to lose my virginity —on the floor of my parents’ den. In addition to fear tinged with steely resolve, I also felt worried about staining their light-colored carpeting. All of my friends had lost theirs already, and I felt like a holdout. I had an…
