My journey in the world of sexual support

I was 25. I’d never kissed anyone, never been on a date. I certainly had no idea what it was like to be in a relationship, and sex seemed like something people only did in movies. It was a strange, inexplicable void in my existence. People would dismiss it, saying stuff like: ‘Oh, but you’re so likable, you’ll surely meet someone’. (Ever heard that one before?) Like I just had to wait for it to happen eventually. I doubted that. I felt, with a great amount of certainty, that if I wasn’t going to actively do anything about it, I would spend my whole life alone.

I’d talked about this to a sexuologist, in creative therapy, in group therapy, in 1-on-1 sessions… But it wasn’t doing a whole lot of good. We were talking about something I knew absolutely nothing about - not from experience, at least. Then one day, my then therapist spoke these simple, life altering words: ‘You know, there are people with whom you could practise these things.’ I could tell he felt awkward suggesting it. The taboo was right there in the space, almost tangible in the air, creating a tremor in his voice. But he seemed to have come to the same conclusion I had. Talking about this wasn’t going to make a whole lot of difference. I didn’t know what he was talking about at first. A sex worker? Not quite: an intimacy coach. I hadn’t known such people existed. It was a revelation. If he hadn’t brought it up, I might have continued stumbling through the dark for a long, long time.

Back home, I went online and Googled “intimacy coach”. Sure enough, I found a few. I didn’t hesitate  very long and booked a session with one. A few weeks later, I started my intimacy journey. As it turned out, it would involve a whole bunch of people, not just an intimacy coach. With issues as deeprooted and complex as these, one person just isn’t going to cut it.

To begin, there was the woman who was going to help me get comfortable with the physical part. She was mid-forties, very ordinary looking, a woman like any other you might meet in the street. When we first met, she seemed a bit nervous, kind of just like I was. This was the real deal, you know. Touching someone, being close, feeling another person’s skin. There’s no facade to hide behind.

Over the course of several months, step-by-step, I was initiated into a world I had always known existed, but that had never been part of my life. The process involved a second coach, an older woman who shared her life experience and helped me reflect on this new world I was exploring. This time, we could talk about things I had actually experienced, not just longed for or dreamt of. From our first meeting, it was clear this was a person unlike any other I had met. Conversations about sex and relationship had never felt so normal, so honest, so truthful.

Through them I met other professionals – bodyworkers, relationship coaches, masseuses – and they encouraged me to take up new activities – like dancing, and tantra workshops. All of that helped me to connect to my body, to interact with people in different ways than I had before, and in the process, I met a lot of new people. I made new friends. Entered a new phase of life. Met women who actually seemed to show some interest.

One day, the unthinkable happened – a girl I’d met at a 5-day group retreat kissed me full on the lips.Like, wow. That actually happened. And so I learned what sexuality can do, when you manage to integrate it into your life. It can change you, and your whole life with it. This isn’t about fucking, you know. It’s about living. Practical experience is key. You won’t become comfortable touching someone by talking about it. You can’t heal a desperate lack of physical intimacy by discussing it with a therapist. To learn how to swim you have to actually get into the water. To learn about kissing, touching, sex, you need another person to do it with you. If you aren’t fortunate enough to have that kind of person in your private life, how are you supposed to figure any of this shit out?

Eight years later, I’m still learning. My life has changed for the better, but that full blown, lasting relationship, that my 25-year-old self yearned for, hasn’t happened yet. So I’m glad there are  intimacy coaches, bodyworkers, relationship therapists, masseuses, sex workers out there to support people like me on their journey. In our rational, detached, taboo filled society, it can be hard to find them though.

World Of Sexual Support is about to change that, I hope. So, let’s quit beating around the bush. Enough talk. Have a look on WINGSS.

Good luck on your journey.