Sex Scars

I've been thinking a lot about sex lately. My thoughts are a strong mix between curiousity and fear.

I have been faithful to the same man for 17 years. For nearly two decades my heart and my body were his. He did not always treat these parts of me with respect but, nonetheless, I never strayed.

But now I am alone. I no longer love the father of my son. I no longer trust him with my heart much less my body. I am legally separated and quickly heading into the process of divorce.

I am in a position, enviable by some of my married friends, I suppose, where I am free to date, free to explore, free to discover my sexuality and what I desire. That all sounds so exciting, so thrilling! But it terrifies me. I feel so vulnerable. I don't want to jump into the fray (be it dating or sex) too quickly but neither do I want my fears and insecurities to stop me from healing the parts of my sexuality that were so badly damaged in my marriage.

Because of my history, though, I am now fearful that out of my needs, insecurities and fears that I will allow (unconsciously or consciously) someone to exploit (unconsciously or consciously) my vulnerabilities. It is a natural fear after being the submissive one in a controlling relationship but it is still difficult for me to have this fear. I want to trust. I want to explore. I want to love.

Unfortunately, like many folks ending a marriage, I am left with sex scars.

Somehow, during this marriage I began to doubt myself as a woman. I have been told for years by my husband that I am frigid and sexless. My husband would often call me such viles names and then be surprised that I didn't want to have sex later that evening with him. And I always felt guilt. I always blamed myself. Yes, I concluded, the problem was within me. A good friend recently recalled a time when I sat in front of her and told her with such certainty and conviction that I was "dead" sexually. I would never feel passion again. I would never know true intimacy. If you are divorced or ending a marriage, you probably have similar sex scars.

So how does one rid oneself of these scars?

Sexual experimentation, according to some experts.

From the book, "Crazy Time: Surviving Divorce and Building a New Life" by Abigail Trafford: "Whether you are passive or dominant in the marriage, you end up with similar sex scars. A period of sexual experimentation allows you to heal those scars. You learn how to break your Deadlock habits in sex. If you were the submissive one, you learn to be the seducer, the initiator in sex. You walk into a party, pick out someone you'd like to spend the night with and then make your move. There are times you won't succeed. But learning to love and be "rejected" is as important as learning to win and follow through. You find out that the world doesn't come to an end if you stand up for yourself - even through you don't get what you want. Where do you begin? Here you are in Crazy Time. The marriage is over. You look at your ex-spouse. That's all you need to remind you that someone who knew you well found you inadequate in lovemaking. At first you can hardly wait to have an affair, no more guilt about sex, you say to yourself. You figure a good seduction scene will make you feel alive, staving off those feelings of abandonment and emptiness, of being half a person, of being nothing. "Promiscuity, like amphetamines, promotes a short-term high," says science writer Maggie Scark in Psychology Today. "It surely won't cure feelings of despair, grief and depression but it may keep them at bay, keep them contained for a while." If all goes well during your sex phase, you exorcise some of the ghosts from the past and prove to yourself that you are normal. Then the sex phase ends."

This period of sexual experiementation is called the Hummingbird stage. I have known about it for a while now. And I have dreaded it. I do not want to have Hummingbird sex. It is, at the most elementary level, promiscuity. I went through the Hummingbird stage during my 20s. I was a hummingbird twittering from man to man back then looking for love, always wanting, desiring and yearning for love. Is that the romantic side of me or the woman within who is not whole? This desire for love. This desire to simply be with one man? I want love. I want passion. I want kindness and respect. I want commitment and, above all, I want trust. Is it possible to skip this Hummingbird stage and still find wholeness?

I am scared of the emotional connection or disconnection that will result after sex, especially with the first man in 17 years. I placed my husband on a pedistal shortly after I met him. The result was that when the imperfections began to show (the anger, the jealously, the control and the mistrust) I denied it. I had romanticized him. I had idolized him. I did not want to see that he was flawed. So I stuck my head in the sand for nearly 20 years.

I do not yet know most of the answers to my questions. But after much reflection today and an enriching talk with my beautiful mother, I realize that having sex, dating, and allowing myself to fall in love opens up a certain degree of vunerability in me. It is natural. It is neither right or wrong. It is only the degree to which I feel vunerable that is different at various stages. I am at the early stage of leaving my husband.. so I would feel very vunerable if sex entered into my world at this time.

Ultimately, I need to learn to trust myself. I must trust my heart and my head to do what needs to be done -- whether it is holding back and waiting or forging ahead and allowing myself to discover a part of me that I have long considered dead.