I saw Catherine Breillat's 'Anatomy of Hell' the other night. Very interesting movie!
It brought up a lot of 'stuff' as I suppose it was intended to do. It was a difficult movie for me to watch. Not a small part of that, either, was because the guy looked quite a bit like A!
There were some really graphic and (what I found to be, frankly) disgusting close ups of the woman's pussy. If you haven't seen the movie, it is a brutally honest exploration of mens reaction to women on a primal level.
The plot line is that this woman hires a gay guy (interesting choice?) to give her an honest opinion of what he sees, when spending 4 nights with her. He tells of his disgust and fear, etc, and just explores her. I didn't like the way the gay guy ends up fucking her, and how it ends, it felt a little anti-gay. A kind of 'let's convert the gay guy' movie. I think it would have worked better with a straight guy, honestly.
I am not into pussy. I think pussies are pretty hideous and ugly, my own included. I guess my disgust and shame about my own body is pretty deep-rooted. I remember the moment very clearly, when I realized my own pussy was changing from that of a neat little girl-slit, all neatly tucked in and seamless, hairless, to what it is now. I was 14, and never really explored 'down there' even though I masturbated from a very early age, I never looked.
It was just after I lost my virginity. I caught a bad yeast infection, and woke up in the morning with very swollen bits and pieces, and it was really disturbing, and honestly quite scary, to look down and see what looked like an alien erupting out of my most private and shameful body part. It looked very different than what I had remembered it looking like, and had changed very dramatically, very suddenly. And put that together with what was a very embarrassing and traumatic and shameful trip to the doctors with my mum, and I have some 'issues' about what my body looks like.
My mum freaked out, and started calling me names, I remember. She really couldn't handle that I had had sex at 14. She called me a slut, whore, etc. I can remember the huge feelings, and even to write about it now brings back some of those feelings of horror, fear, shame and anger.
When I lost my virginity, I was given drinks all night at a party by a boy a year older than me, who then took me outside and fucked me on the grass, and I had lost my virginity before I even realized what had happened. It was 2 weeks after my 14th birthday.
It wasn't a pleasant experience, and I wasn't old enough, or didn't have enough confidence, or had too much fear, I'm not sure which, to realize at the time that what he had done was even wrong. It wasn't til years later, that I even realized I had been 'raped'. I was far too ashamed to tell anybody.
Sounds odd, but I even continued to date the guy for several months afterwards, and we had a lot of sex, that I really didn't enjoy much.
I remember the huge sense of disappointment that sex wasn't nearly as good as I had imagined and fantasized that it might be. It was a pretty uncomfortable experience, I remember being very cold, drunk, and slightly nauseous. And it certainly wasn't the last time I ever got completely drunk and fucked a stranger in a parking lot.
Then came S, when I was 15, who thankfully, changed all that, for a year at least. We had great sex! I was so in love with him, and so devastated when he dumped me after a year.
I have spent only the last 16 years gradually healing and reclaiming my sexual identity and strength again, since that time, when I shut myself down. Between the ages of 14 and 21, (except for that glorious year with S!), I really just collapsed, became very promiscuous, and word got out that I fucked, so you can imagine, all the boys wanted some, and usually got it. I got into drugs, alcohol, and was on a pretty self-destructive pathway. I had very little self-respect or confidence...
It was only Grace pulled me out of that one when I was 21. I was definitely in hell, myself, during my teenage years. I did have a lot of fun though, but it certainly came at a price that I didn't realize until years later. I have no clue how many guys I have fucked, but it it probably around 150-200. There have only been 2 in the last 10 years of my life though.
I think my past has been a very strong reason why I was so determined to be faithful to Husband, to leave all that pain behind, and 'settle down', and why I felt to much shame after fucking A this summer. I have so much fear that my life might start to look like it did back then.
I have to move on, and let love be the reason now, why I am with Husband, and for now, am wanting to be monogamous, not any of that fear of my past repeating itself.
There is an animal in this one though, that knows what fucking anybody and everybody can be like. It's not like I didn't have any fun when I was so promiscuous or crazy. I did. There's a definite part of me that loved it. There is something that's missing in my life at the moment, in being married and settled and 'respectable', and I think it's my job to reclaim it in a healthy way. Honestly, I am still a little scared that that side of myself might take over again and cause the pain it's caused in the past.
I guess that's the werewolf myth, isn't it? Once we let that animal out, life becomes out of control, and people get hurt.
I know there's another way that doesn't hurt people or cause so much emotional carnage. That I think, is the essence of what my blog is about, what my spiritual search has been about. How to let that Beast out and have fun, in a safe and appropriate way.
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