Content: This post includes mentioning of an activity that occurs in a sexual context
A while ago I got to try a new medication and even though I’m still very ill, it has a good effect on one of my most problematic symptoms. Now, when my heart doesn’t go bananas and pushes me into a horrible PEM (Post-Exertional Malaise, core symptom of Myalgic Encephalomyelitis) crash that I never recover from every time I feel a little arousal, I can have sex sometimes. Not often, not without it affecting my health, but sometimes.
One of the things that I’ve discovered is that I really like it when my partner strokes my back. My spine used to be very sore but nowadays it isn’t, and that means that the experience of having my back stroked changed radically. It turns me on, but I also like it in contexts that aren’t sexual. This isn’t complicated regarding my diseases, pain and disabilities, it’s not complicated for my partner either so in theory, this is great.
Practically? This was (is) a huge deal for me to admit, both to myself and my partner. This is shameful and just writing it makes me blush and the butterflies in my stomach go wild. Why?
For a couple of months I didn’t at all get why and honestly, I couldn’t really handle thinking about it either. However, it bothered me so much to feel so ashamed and not understanding why that it kept coming back to me. How can it feel so difficult to like having my back stroked? It’s hardly considered taboo or particularly kinky to me. As a matter of fact, I feel way less bothered by a lot of other stuff that I guess I do consider kinky.
Then it dawned on me: It’s about vulnerability. It’s the same thing coming back again and again. Admitting this is a sort of exposure that means acknowledging a part of me that I’m still struggling to deal with and don’t have words for yet. It’s the scared, traumatized part of me that fears being judged for who I am, for my perception and sensory issues. This isn’t just about what feels good, this is about who I am. About having everything that is me rejected, dehumanized and considered not valid. This is about being autistic and connecting with my autistic self, and that is a very taxing thing for me. It’s also something I’m longing for.
My partner is not a judgemental person when it comes to sex, and my fear isn’t that he will judge me for this. This fear is so much deeper, because it’s about taking the risk of not having my sensory experiences understood. My partner can very often understand me on an intellectual level, but I long so hard for the kind of validation I only get when somebody shares my sensory experiences. I guess I’m longing for autistic access intimacy, and – I’m hurting from the lack of it.