Porn: A Good Thing or a Bad Thing?
I married at the ripe young age of 38, and it wasn’t until several years after that that my husband introduced the idea of watching porn. I told him I wasn’t interested. Throughout my entire adult life, I believed that if two people loved each other, they didn’t need porn. My husband and I watched it only one time and that was by accident. We were in bed, and he was flipping cable channels on the remote and there it was. Again, he encouraged me to watch it with him. Reluctantly, I did, and I became aroused. Despite my response, however, I remained against it.
I should say that I was repressed where sex was concerned. I had a less-than-ideal sexual education. When I was 12, my mother invited me out to the patio to give me “the talk” and she cried the whole time. Because she was crying, I began to cry and I didn’t know why either of us was crying, nor did I ever find out because my parents could be intimidating and my mother didn’t like me questioning her.
A few years later, she and my father took me on a vacation to a resort called Highland Springs, in California, about a half an hour from Palm Springs. The resort had a party for teens and I went, and met a boy. We danced and talked and then he asked me if I’d like to take a walk. Pretty soon we were on a chaise lounge kissing. My parents found me and dragged me back to the cabin. I had no intention of taking it any further, but they refused to believe me. My mother added, “Only prostitutes enjoy sex.”
Fifteen years after we married my husband died of melanoma. I grieved, moved, traveled, started a business, and time passed quickly. Then one day I took stock of my life and realized I had not had sex in over a decade! I simply lacked the desire for it. But I made the decision that I didn’t want to live that way anymore.
I went to my therapist and, knowing the medication I was on was a sexual inhibitor, I asked to be changed to something else. My doctor informed me that the properties in other like medications were often the same, so he didn’t know if changing it would do any good. I said that I wanted to try it and, lo and behold, I came ALIVE!
I had a general check-up with my urologist and mentioned I hadn’t had an orgasm in a very long time and that I didn’t have an easy time of it when I was having them. Fortunately, both my therapist and my urologist were very open-minded.
“Get some porn and a vibrator,” she said.
I’m sure my mouth dropped open, but I was willing to do anything at this point in order to feel like a sexual woman again.
So I took myself to a sex store (I had never been in one before) named the Pleasure Chest (the name alone gave me heart palpitations) in Los Angeles. Reluctantly, I entered and was surprised to find the products laid out nicely, the place was clean, and the staff was friendly — but not too friendly. A young woman helped me choose a vibrator and directed me to the porn section. Initially, I intended to get in and out of there as quickly as possible, but wound up lingering, totally engrossed in all the DVDs, and other items the store had to offer.
Finally, about an hour later, I took my little purchases home and tried them out. I started having pleasure twice a day! This was a whole new world for me. I was watching porn and I enjoying it!
The next week I went back to my therapist.
“I really enjoyed that porn tape, but I can’t keep going back to the sex store and buying more porn,” I said.
“Well,” he said, “There’s free porn on the net.”
“Oh,” was my only comment.
That night, I Googled “free porn.” The first site that came up asked me to sign on the dotted line. There was no way I was going to put my name on anything. You get jailed for this sort of thing, don’t you? My doctor assured me that was only for child porn.
So I did some more research, and found a site that didn’t ask me to sign up, and I watched some pretty interesting stuff.
I have since purchased more porn, as I enjoy having my own collection.
From not even wanting to hear about it, porn has become a staple in my life! It helped break down a lifetime of resistance. It was the first part of my journey toward sexual freedom.