Confession time: I’m terrified of sex. As much as I love being intimate with other men (my friends can attest, I am very gay), thoughts of sex immediately turn into concerns about my body, or sweating, or how my hair looks ridiculous when disheveled, or an overwhelming lack of confidence in my own appearance. It’s a roller coaster, and I often find myself hovering above the act of intimacy, never fully able to commit to being in the moment with another person.
I’ve always been an anxious person; that is, I’ve had an anxiety disorder for as long as I can remember. Most of the time, the anxiety is manageable, pushing me to overachieve and overwork myself and altogether making me quite productive in times of stress. That said, I often catch myself assessing how I look, how others perceive me, how I sound, how I’m acting, my posture, my hair, my skin and how obvious my excess fat is to the world around me. My mind is in a nearly constant state of motion, reminding me how out of place I look amongst all the 'normal' people around me.
Sometimes, I can ignore the disruptive thoughts. If nothing else, I’ve mastered the art of not letting the symphony of self-loathing playing at a constant low volume in the back of my mind disrupt my focus. But sex brings all of these thoughts roaring into focus, turning the whispers into a cacophony of maladaptive thoughts that I can’t seem to ignore.
A fun fact I recently learned was that the only prerequisite to climaxing is shutting off the threat assessors in your brain. In most men, this is blissfully easy. From my understanding, for most women, the task is slightly more difficult. For those with anxiety disorders, this is nearly impossible. Long story short, I’ve left more than one partner wondering why I wasn’t 'enjoying' myself as much as them. As much as I’d love to turn off the hyperactivity in my brain, I have yet to find a way to calm down the incessant fear that rushes through every synapse of my brain during sex.
I don’t know if I’m trying to make some grand message about consideration for others’ mental health, or if I’m just venting about how frustrating my mind is, or if I just wanted to make some people uncomfortable by saying “sex” and “climax” a bunch of times. Maybe this can serve as some petty solace for those who are in the same boat as me, but if nothing else, I’ve learned this: Listen to your mind. If you’re doing something that makes you scared or anxious or panicky, stop, reassess and ask yourself what would make you more comfortable in that moment. Maybe it’s cuddling, maybe it’s handcuffs. Who knows. But sex is about making (at least) two people feel good. So let yourself feel good.
On Queer: On sex and anxiety
