Anonymous

I get nervous about sex. In fact, I’ve always been nervous about sex. I’m not sure why. I was never abused, never pressured into something I didn’t want to do, never had the ‘fear of God’ put into me.

I never really discussed sex with anyone when I was younger. I think I was given a couple of books, but never had ‘the birds and the bees talk’. I don’t know why, because my parents are liberal and we aren’t religious. In fact, when my boyfriend came to stay, it was me, not them, who thought it better that he stay in the spare bedroom.

I first had sex when I was 20, in a bathroom stall on the platform of a tube station in London. We weren’t dating at the time, but had been previously and I wanted to ‘get it over and done with.’ It wasn’t very romantic, and I was drunk, but at least I loved the guy. To be 100% honest, I’m not even sure if we really ‘did it’ because there was no blood at all. I’m pretty sure there should have been blood.

Fast forward a couple of years and the second ‘first’ time I had sex was with my long-term boyfriend. Again, I was drunk and I suspect I did it to remove any doubt of him going back to his ‘fuck buddy’ for want of a better word. There wasn’t any blood on the sheets either, but after I got up the following morning, there was a sudden whoosh and my pants were drenched. I freaked out, but felt I didn’t know the guy well enough at the time to talk to him about it. I raced to the bathroom and then spoke to my digs mate who calmed me down.

Sex with that boy was alright. I probably can count the number of ‘great’ times on one hand. We broke up after two years, but I lost interest in having sex with him after a year and a half, probably because I realised we were never going to be long-term (I was leaving the university town and he was staying). Sex became uncomfortable. I began to dread it and thought of as a chore. That’s not great when you’re supposed to be in your prime and wanting to rip one another’s clothes off!

Since then, I’ve not had sex. Oh, I’ve thought about it, on many an occasion. But I’m scared. I’m scared it’s going to continue to be uncomfortable for me, that I’m going to forget what to do, that it’ll be a fuck up and I’ll never enjoy it.

My doctor assures me not. She says I’m probably tense because, on top of being nervous, I’m now worried it’s going to be uncomfortable. In fact, she advocates that when I am in a long term, healthy relationship again, I should lock myself up with this new man for extended periods of time to ‘get used to sex’!

I want to enjoy sex—I’m desperate to, in fact—but I’m worried about letting myself go. I’m thinking of buying myself a ‘toy’ to get used to my body again—perhaps then I won’t be so closed off and nervous and altogether just plain scared.

The writer is a believer in romance.