Self-Doubt and Its Twisted Path to Sexual Self-Knowledge

The Sunlight of Experience Disinfects the Stains of Ignorance.

Raised, as I was, by a Roman Catholic ever-virgin and a flag-waving member of the U.S. Army, I grew up with some fucked up ideas about all kinds of things. Including sexuality. And my body. And boys. And girls. And how to make friends with either of them.

On the plus side, I eventually learned at least a little bit about each of these things and, over time, have healed from much of the initial trauma that ignorance produced. On the minus side, it was accomplished through a series of largely miserable, sometimes dangerous, and generally unpleasant experiences, encounters, and realizations.

Fortunately, I’m stubborn and legend has it that I always have been. I’m also a curious observer of human behavior. Raised intentionally naïve, alienated from folks outside of my family, and constantly on the defensive at home, I was desperate to understand, well, anything. Everything. About myself. About everyone else.

The concepts of innocence and virginal purity have probably done more harm to the human race than much of anything else. They have traditionally been viewed as vital to the intrinsic value of women but somewhat more optional for men. But neither primary gender is free from the damage that sexual ignorance and discouragement from honest self-assessment invariably create.

When we are told not to learn who we truly are and what we truly need to be happy and healthy, the result can only be misery, stunted personal development, unsatisfying relationships, and dependence upon moral authority figures for direction and purpose.

If we play our cards right, however, we can use the tools that have kept us tight in our buds to release ourselves and bloom.

Prayer is a unifying activity regardless of religion. At its best, it allows us to reflect upon our actions and motivations, acknowledge a wisdom base vaster than our own, reveal subconscious needs and desires, and encourage a healthy humility. At its worst, it crushes introspection that does not agree with dogma, and it condemns sexual needs and wants that can’t be easily controlled by an external moral body accountable to no one.

In our worst-case scenarios, we become passive, open to being victimized, and encouraged toward emotional martyrdom. We give our problems up to a higher power, we insist that we are powerless to change, we embrace the identity of a sinner, and we take on an enormous responsibility to achieve a level of so-called perfection and uniformity that is doomed to fail. And, tying it all together with a ribbon of angst is guilt and shame. Knowledge becomes the enemy because it often contradicts what we’ve been raised to believe.

In our best-case scenarios, meditation or introspection contributes to an ever-increasing sense of honest self-knowledge. This doesn’t mean that we immediately feel liberated or even good about ourselves. Unlearning negative behaviors and reversing hostile self-talk can be difficult and takes time. As the French say, “Life is an onion, and one peels it crying.”

Anyone who has found themselves yearning for something forbidden by unyielding moral standards knows the truth of this aphorism. Gay? Bisexual? Trans? Non-monogamous? Asexual? Kinky? Porn-curious? Child-free by choice? In a society that insists it knows what’s best for all its citizens, natural deviation from the alleged norm is viewed as a threat.

Hell, the history of discouraging masturbation in the young is one of horrible physical and emotional torment under the guise of health and purity. When we can’t even touch our own bodies without a series of ethical gymnastics, we learn that our bodies do not belong to us.

Faced with a nearly complete absence of practical information about sex, I found my teen self highly vulnerable to being taken advantage of, particularly by older men. When you’re 16 or 17 years old, nearly every man is older. Placed at risk by my parent’s inability or unwillingness to provide me with sexual information, I worked outside of the house as soon as it was legal and I spent as much time as possible downtown people watching, not fully realizing how dangerous either of these could be.

Without the internet to fill in the huge gaps in my knowledge about ways to protect myself, I relied upon high school sex ed classes. Fortunately for me, in those ancient days, there were actually a few useful nuggets of wisdom included. They ultimately kept me safe from pregnancy (thank you, Planned Parenthood) and gave me a basic understanding of how the bits fit together sexually. Beyond that, it was an on-the-job training experience.

I got lucky. In time, I learned different ways to think about myself and my sexuality, but it took meeting people different from myself, hearing their stories, watching their actions, and confronting my own prejudices, fears, judgments, and desires. There were also a lot of misadventures to survive and process after having done so. More reflection. More introspection. More willingness to step outside of my proverbial comfort zone.

The misinformation, lack of information, and moral guilt-tripping did me no favors in the process of figuring out who I am and what I genuinely need to be healthy and happy. But it did provide me with some fundamental tools that, with some adjustment, allowed me to get on the path to my true nature and eventually even cast off most of the fears and superstitions that had hobbled me.

Perhaps prayer and self-reflection are different forms of a similar meditation. In each case, we hope to tap into some kind of enlightenment that will help us become a better, more complete person.

But wouldn’t it be a wonderful world if we could become better, more complete people without the need to muzzle those of us whose paths do not run straight and inspire fear in all of us, making it so difficult to become comfortable with the fact that there are as many paths to healthy sexuality as there are people?