Boundaries and Sexual Behavior

"If your boundaries have always been violated, then it is unfair to expect yourself to be able to set them all of a sudden. You don’t become assertive and powerful just because you grow up and leave home. No matter what age you are, no matter what relationship you have with the abuser, if someone with more power is pressuring you into a sexual relationship, then you are being abused."

— The Courage to Heal: A Guide for Women Survivors of Child Sexual Abuse by Ellen Bass & Laura Davis 

There are many aspects to the topic of boundaries, and I have found that, at least for me, the relationship between sexual behavior and boundaries has been very confusing. Where does one begin and the other end? Where is the safety limit? Where is the comfort zone? What is appropriate behavior toward someone and from someone toward me? I never really explored these questions in depth until I was in my 30s. In my early 20s, I became obsessed by the power and drug-like effect of sexual activity and I chased it from one continent to another. I was just beginning to explore PASSION when the object of my passion was torn away--separated by distance. I tried to let it go, to tolerate the loss, but I simply couldn't. I chased this obsession to Europe, where my only thought was to be in bed beside my lover again. I had other reasons for leaving of course, the largest being a father who was chasing ME with his attention and anxiety and guilt and would give no respite, which was the catalyst for the whole episode, but on par with that was a desperate, obsessive drive for sex that blinded me. This was my first sexual experience, and it was heady. It was something that took me out of myself in very good way; something that made me fly, something where I became another person in another world, something in which my natural instincts of sensitivity and intensity and feeling were rewarded!!!! 

This episode had to end of course, and it was from a manipulation of my fears by my father over a long distance, that I came crashing to earth. Afterwards, my exuberance over sexuality buried its head in the sand for over 20 years. You know the history. 

When I experienced my "awakening" in my mid-30s, I was not in a safe situation, and boundaries should have been my first priority. But not knowing such a thing existed, I was bound for trouble. 

The first boundary I should have considered was my physical safety. And I don't mean STDs (at the moment). I am talking about meeting strange men in strange places. Going to their homes. Meeting in deserted areas. I did not consider any consequences of these behaviors.  I think, now, a person with boundaries and self-respect would have insisted on choosing locations herself and taken some control of the situation. I let them control EVERYTHING, believing this was just how it should be.  I also had no way to ensure that these men were "safe" people at all-just their word. It shouldn't have been enough. Any healthy individual would have considered that beforehand.

The second boundary that I didn't think about was the sexual activities themselves. I had expressed my desires and what I didn't like during online chats, but I never explicitly stated limits. Even in person, I didn't express limits. I let anything go, and pretended to like it. I never had thought deeply about some of these sexual actions I was getting into; had I considered some of the realities and what I truly felt about them, (and understood limitations of course), things would have been different. I was desperately seeking the mental and physical fulfillment of my initial experience, but many of these encounters left me cold. Even in this, I felt I had to please. I didn't realize I had a right to say no to something I was uncomfortable with. Then, of course, was the STD issue. I did know enough to use protection, but I didn't realize other dangers of other activities. And I trusted that when these men said they were free of disease, they were being honest. I think anyone with boundaries (and self-respect) in these situations would have requested proof.

I didn't realize, either, that I could keep my personal life to myself. I gave myself away at every opportunity. One of these men wouldn't even tell me his name, but I unthinkingly gave up my entire identity, and he immediately did a web search on me. I spoke about personal issues at the beginning; I blurred the lines between intimacy and sexual encounter. I simply gave up too much information. I felt I had become part of their worlds and wanted to fit in accordingly. My grave mistake, and my lack of boundaries. 

All of this also begs the sticky question that has been around for some time: when one consensually engages in sexual activity, is that person entitled to boundaries and limits? If one allows an activity to begin, which had been something discussed between the two online, but ends up feeling like an invasion, does the term "boundary" even apply? When one meets up with another through an engagement previously made through a SEX SITE, how much right to limits does one have???  Perhaps it is my personal difficulty with boundaries (and tendency to assume guilt) that causes me to ask this question. I experienced one instance of what my therapist called "rape" but to me, felt like I deserved it and brought it on by discussing it during an online chat.  To this day, I do not truly know what to think about this issue.

I'm sure there is more I could write about, but this is enough information for one day.  I hope what I write here has been able to help.

...then there's me.

The effects of covert incest, continued. I have a hard time making and keeping female friends. Many times, I begin to feel they're "winning out" over me--that I'm losing in the competition for male attention. My self-esteem, especially in the physical realm, couldn't be lower. As Brad Paisley sings: 

There's two feet of topsoil
A little bit of bedrock, limestone in between
A fossilized dinosaur
A little patch of crude oil
A thousand feet of granite underneath
Then there's me

Sounds funny, eh? Well, I can't go to the mall without running home in tears because I am not as thin, young, blond (well, I'm dark haired, so that's always an issue), sexy...as these other girls. Never mind that I'm 41 and I'm not supposed to be!...I feel that other women exist to make me feel bad about myself. Especially strangers. If I get to know a woman very well, and we have a connection, then I thrive, but that doesn't happen often. Twice in my life--in ACOA and during the psychodrama workshops. And maybe that's because I could see the hurting human inside of the woman in these cases. 

I almost feel as if every female of male-attracting age is my dad's wife. That's exactly how it feels. There to steal something sick away from me. It's so hugely messed up, isn't it? I'm constantly fighting to get it back.

And this is why I got such a boost from all the male attention on the sex site. Think about it: if you got 100+ replies from men wanting to "meet" you, what hole do you think that would fill??? Even if you never intended to do anything about it, it would still be potent (and most women on that site didn't do anything; I was probably one of the few who followed through--at least that's what I was frequently told). Having one man who adores you and has committed to you for life just isn't good enough for victims of covert incest (by their fathers at least)! You are just not convinced that you are good enough for the rest of the world, if "only" one person loves you! What insane thinking!! To me, having this attention was like having air to breathe and water to drink. I felt nothing without it; it didn't matter WHAT my husband thought about me; I couldn't hear his compliments. I needed strange men who (and I'll be bluntly honest here) got stiff cocks when they thought of me in order to feel "worthy." Like I said before, I am dysfunctional, but at least I know it.

My obsession got to the point where I contemplated leaving my husband so I could indulge in this addiction full time. Really scary. I remember the urge; it was nearly impossible to contain. Somehow, I allowed common sense to ground me, and I don't remember how. It's like amnesia now.

But we did get off the site after about a year. There were a couple of men I was still in contact with, but I hadn't met in person for a long time. It all seemed to simmer down. Until I got pregnant. The entire self-hatred, self-rage, worthless crap came back with a vengance then. I felt terrible; I was gaining weight like crazy, my body was changing and I was terrified that I was lost. I was flailing in quicksand.

So, I went on craigslist. You can probably guess what happened next.

This was the scariest encounter. A complete stranger, who knew I was pregnant, who knew who I was, where I worked, but who wouldn't reveal his identity.  We just happened to work in the same institution, and he found my work phone number, and started calling me anonymously, teasing me about how he was going to walk into my office and I wouldn't know who he was...this was a married man, about my age. I was in a constant state of excitement and anxiety, waiting, wondering. He once told me he was outside my building, but decided not to come in. This was too much. I think this is called "rock bottom." I hated going to work then--my hormones were a wreck in the first place and I started getting anxiety attacks. I would run out of the building during these attacks, crying, feeling haunted, ashamed, tormented. He texted me one evening, asking me to meet him right now. I did. I met him behind a swimming pool, in back of an isolated apartment complex. I realized as I parked there, that this could be it. I could be murdered or raped. The thought that I wouldn't mind dying flitted through my mind as I stepped out of my car. I was afraid that I was bringing a baby into a terrible world, that I couldn't cope, and I was open to it being the end of us. (I know, it really is horrible. It really is. I know this.)

I was definitely being protected by a higher power because this man was a good man, I found out, despite his cheating nature. He wouldn't have harmed me. He was military and was very polite and gentle. Even a little romantic.

The fact that I could do this, knowing about his wife, illustrates how I felt about other women being my competition for attention. I felt bad, yes, but my obsession was driving me. To be able to attract a married man, that should prove my worth! So went my dysfunctional thinking. Luckily for me (I now believe), I never saw him after that. He began to draw away and I finally cut contact. And that was that. I still wonder if I see him during the week, and I suspect he probably has a bit of professional interest in what I'm doing. But there hasn't been any contact.

This is the story I can't tell in person. But on the web, it seems okay to share it, if only what I've done helps someone else.

For more information about the sexual addiction process, see  Sex Addiction Cycle (credit for the diagram above to this site).