Another interesting visit to the sexologist:

We spoke about many things.About the kissing of last week, about the little bit of play of which I’ll write something later today, about the body-image of the boyfriend, about sleeping naked, about the interrupted kiss  on our last evening, about that the boyfriend is new into bdsm and I have been walking around in that world for 6 years now,  and about dancing.

We always talk about many things, taking little detours, going into a certain direction to discover it’s a dead end, and sometimes discovering new territory. It’s not that I talk and she gives advice, it’s more that I talk, she asks things, and we get to some sort of conclusion or new idea I could try to overcome my problems.

Yesterday’s idea was that maybe the boyfriend and I could try to sleep with no shirts on (we usually do), so nakedness can get more normal again. Not that we are very protective of our nakedness and only keep it to ourselves: both of us walk naked around  the apartment around showering and getting dressed, without any problem; we just are not naked at the same time since he showers in the evening and I shower in the morning. I find the almost-naked-sleeping thing a bit scary, because then my breasts are naked too, and that is a bit too much of a sexual area to be exposed. But I think that it might help, so we’ll just do it next time he is at my place, and I’ll see how it feels  then.

The interrupted kiss at sunday consisted of nice kissing, the boyfriend mentioning that he did not expect anything ‘just to be clear’, and me suddenly becoming consciously aware of that sex was an option in life too, and getting too aware of what we were doing and feeling weird about it, which resulted in no more kissing.

I tend to be a spectator of myself. I now have that with sexual acts, which makes me very conscious about myself which results in being very inhibited and easily scared. I used to have that too in gym-class at high school: I would feel so weird and strange when having to run around the football-field, so conscious of my movement and of my body, that I always felt extremely uncomfortable. With dancing I have that even more. Especially the by yourself dancing when going out, not so much the dancing you learn in dancing-lessons because then someone leads you and there are patterns to follow: one of the reasons I never go clubbing or something (I also detest the loud noise and the busyness). Apparently, my sexologist found this quite interesting, since there are similarities between my fear of sex and my fear of dancing, but time was up, so we’ll probably talk about that next time.

I am so not going to dance. Not. Going. To. Happen.

Ever.

I think…

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