What do we mean when we say sexually liberated?

Maybe it’s my trauma talking but where does relational healing fall in the conversation of sexual liberation?

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I think a lot of my past partners would consider themselves sexually liberated, yet my experience of their sexual and relational skills left much to be desired. Basic concepts like reciprocity, consent, and sexual health were weak at best. I think all of these conversations about sexual freedom are fine and well when you’re alone in your own sheets, but what does sex look like when joint liberation is the goal?

I believe sex is a powerful and obviously social practice. It can be spiritual, nourishing, healing, educational, or just plain old fun. But when I look at past partners and modern culture, I often find myself feeling like a human sex toy for another’s sexual freedom. I think it’s a slippery conversation tbh, pun intended. But it’s something i think about often.

As a newly hormoned trans guy, I cringe at the thought of people wanting me for my body. I think I’ve always felt that way honestly. I also realize it could be a demisexual thing, as well as a gender dysphoria thing. But you could have sex with anyone, desiring it with me isn’t a compliment in and of itself. Even with testosterone making casual sex more appealing to me, I can’t wrap my mind around giving a new person access to my body and trusting they’re not driven by the same impulse that keeps them up at night scrolling or buying something they’ll actually never use. I’m not here for anyone’s dopamine boost or sexual conveniencing.

When I desire sex with another person, it’s usually because I can’t get the idea of pleasuring them out of my head. Because I want to make them feel so good that they forget about everything but the bed beneath them. I even look forward to aftercare and placing kisses on trembling body parts. And these mf can’t even make me cum, once… I’ve single handedly shattered your earth and now you’re “tired”. A lot of y’all cis women act like cis men fr! You take and take then give a half assed effort, all while moaning my praises.

I stopped having sex when I realized it was a net loss. I can rock my own socks, and my imagination will always have you beat. I can trust my own intentions and I don’t have to worry about new information coming to light after I’ve consented. I hold space for all parts of me as a sexual being, and not in spite of. I am sexy because I am whole. And I want to have sex with other whole beings who desire to be seen in their most naked vulnerability.

Lovers that aren’t afraid of the mess. Talk to me, I wanna hear about your day while my head is in between your thighs. Slow stroke while a breeze sways the trees in the background. Feeding all your senses til you’re satiated… I know it’s tight, but is there space for all of me? I promise I’ll be intentional.