I Hated Sex. Didn’t You?

I have a secret. 

I have hated sex for the majority of my life. 


Okay, maybe hate is too strong a word but I certainly didn’t see what the big deal was. Not for quite a long time down my sexual enlightenment road.

I started having sex when I was a teenager. In hindsight it was way too soon because I had not a clue what I was doing or what it meant, but kids do crazy things sometimes. I was sixteen, thought I was in loooove with my high school sweetheart and he wanted to do it.

Do it. Sounds so exciting, right?

I made him wait over a year then finally gave in to the growing pressure every girl feels when they’re that age. Probably younger these days. 

So we did it. He got in there, it stung a little and was over before I knew it.

Years and years of mental anguish and build-up for one hell of an anti-climatic two minutes. 

I remember thinking “that’s it?” before a strange excitement took over. No, it wasn’t me being excited because I had a good time. It wasn’t me being excited because my skin was tingling, covered in a dewy pink flush.

It certainly wasn’t me being excited because I had anything close to an orgasm. 


I was thrilled because I had done it. I had passed a significant milestone in my life that supposedly changed me forever and turned me into a woman.

Cue the marching band and princess waving from the top of my no longer a virgin float!

As soon as my boyfriend rolled off of me and headed to the bathroom I called my best friend to share the exciting news with her. 

I’d done it! Bye-bye virginity! Hello, grown-ass woman! It never occurred to me to realize the sex wasn’t that great, or to even care that it wasn’t. 

And so began almost twenty years of mastering the art of faking it.

When I was younger, having sex was never about my pleasure. Through my teenage years straight into my twenties and thirties, giving my body to a man was all about attention, approval, and acceptance.

I don’t recall ever once thinking to myself, did I truly enjoy that?

I’m not sure if it was the same for my girlfriends. When I gossiped about sex with them it was only ever lying about how good it was and how I couldn’t wait to do it again.

I never once mentioned that I still had no idea what an orgasm from a partner felt like. 

I never once mentioned that I usually couldn’t wait for it to be over.

I never once mentioned that I didn’t see the good side of sex.

Can you relate to what I’m admitting as you’re reading this?

If you are nodding your head in understanding, I hope you realize you aren’t alone. I was in this situation for far too long.

I have good news, though. There is a way out of boring sex and faking orgasms!

I wish I had figured it out a long time ago.

Here’s the deal: You are responsible for your own pleasure. Period.

Read it again.

You are responsible for your own pleasure. You and only you.

For me, the guys I slept with in my teens, twenties, and hell, even my early thirties really didn’t seem to understand too much about my orgasms. They would casually ask did you cum? I would smile, nod my head and that was that. 

Sometimes, whatever guy I was with at the time wouldn’t even ask. 

Boo. Hiss. Spit.

The fact is, if any of these men actually stopped to look at me, to pay attention to my body and what it was doing, they would realize no, I did not cum.

It is what it is. At least their heart was in the right place when they asked.

Until you find the right guy who can read and understand your body, the task lies with you. 

Yes, it’s difficult to move past your insecurities and self-confidence issues. I struggled so much with hating myself and my body that I never spoke up about what I needed to get off.

I was too busy worrying about if he thought I was sexy and if I was doing it right. I was too busy hoping that he liked me instead of figuring out if I even liked him.

My insecurities stood in the way of me finding any kind of pleasure for years. Hell, for decades.

Don’t let this be you. Please, if you understand and relate to my experiences do whatever you can to stop your own cycle.

Sex is about your own pleasure. Yes, it’s also about making babies, connecting to your lover, and making sure your partner is enjoying it, but none of that matters if you hate what you are experiencing.

None of that matters if you find no pleasure for yourself.

When I finally decided to stop faking it, I took the following steps:

  1. I watched porn. A lot of it. 

I started off with videos I could buy but quickly switched to average couples doing the deed. There was too much faking it in the videos of perfect looking strangers screwing on desks. Normal couples enjoying each other’s bodies taught me what sex was supposed to look and sound like, so I wouldn’t be embarrassed by the noises I made.

  1. I started mastrubating.

I was in charge of my body, so I needed to know how to make myself feel good. Hands, fingers, vibrators– whatever I had at my disposal I used until I figured out what I liked.

  1. I dropped my self-consciousness and became an active participant under the sheets.


I wasn’t getting an orgasm by letting my partners do what they thought they needed to do to my body, so I started asking. Talking. Showing. I started speaking up about what felt good and what didn’t since I knew these things because I masturbated. 

Yes, it was truly terrifying at first, but yes, it got so much easier!

Trust me, taking the reins and leading a guy to your orgasm is a huge turn on. If it isn’t, you need to find yourself a new man.

They won’t say no. They won’t be angry or offended. They will find it sexy that you are confident enough to communicate your needs.

Please, don’t be afraid to speak up about what you want. Life is hard enough without having to fake our most basic needs and desires. 

Have fun, explore your body, and try new things. 

Most importantly, don’t forget sex is supposed to feel good. That is the point! Lust and sex makes the world turn so find your place and revel in the pleasure.

I am so glad I finally did this for myself. It was a scary process, but it changed me as a woman.

Like me, you will thank yourself for it down the road.

Share your story with me. Do you love sex? Or simply tolerate it? I want to hear your truth!

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