I recently saw the "Divergent" movie.
There are several changes between the book and the movie, but the one that bothered me the most had to do with the simulated rape scene between Tobias and Tris. (To explain, Tris in her simulation believes that Tobias will harm her/ rape her and she has to fight him off.) The entire point of Tobias' relationship with Tris is that he is not coercive, he is emotionally open to her and he listens to her. Her fear is not a fear of being raped. Her fear is a fear of intimacy in general. She is afraid of being that vulnerable, that open to somebody. In the book, he wants to sleep with her (in the simulation) and her response is that she doesn't want to sleep with him in a simulation and she kisses him, and that's enough for her to be able to move on to the next sim. It's about her being able to set up emotional boundaries, not her actual fear of him physically harming or disrespecting her. And it's about her fear of beautiful sex, not her fear of violent rape.
It upsets me that this fear -which I think is nuanced and important and reflective of some of the women who struggle with sexual dysfunction- was not seen as "valid" enough to transmit to the big screen, and instead her fear had to become one of sexual assault and rape.
We understand fear of sexual assault and rape. It may be harder to understand that a woman would be afraid of going too fast with someone she cares about or even loves, that she might be afraid of being bare, of being vulnerable. But I think that's the more important narrative to tell specifically because it is hard to understand.
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Monday, February 3, 2014
You know that tagline, "It Gets Better"?
Well- it DOES get better.
First, the amount of time that I needed to dilate prior to having sex diminished. I started to realize that I was simply feeling readier faster. I've come up with a theory, which is the following: Right after mikvah, your vagina hasn't been stretched recently (because you've had 2 weeks or so without sex or dilators). So that first time, you have to dilate for a while, say 15-20 minutes. Maybe even longer. (The other option, of course, would be to dilate while you have your period; I never really liked doing that). But as you have sex more frequently, and your vagina adapts itself like the stretchy, fun muscle that it is, you realize you have to dilate less and less frequently.
And then comes that time when you realize that actually...YOU DON'T HAVE TO DILATE AT ALL.
Because you and your husband can go have spontaneous sex. You can flirt and dance your way to the bedroom and fall onto the bed in a tangled heap, after which you can have him arouse you, and excite you, and otherwise make sure you're ready. And then, you just have to run your hand over him with some oil or some lubricant, and you're ready to make love.
No dilators. No preparation. Just you and him. Together at last.
Enjoying this experience.
No, actually LOVING this experience.
Already looking forward to the next time that you'll get to do this.
Having a happy, pleasurable, love-making experience.
And so I've become a Happy Jewish Girl.
An awesome doctor (Dr. Goldstein), an awesome CBT therapist, and a supportive and loving husband got me there.
Here are some things I never thought I'd say:
I actually love sex.
Love the closeness.
Love the foreplay.
Love the feelings.
Love that my husband and I have traveled so far and have gotten to this amazing place.
Guess I wasn't made to be a nun after all!
I plan to keep writing, but also just want to express that this blog, this journey, is about hope.
When I started this blog, I needed an outlet, a place to vent, a place to cry and wail and lash out against the world.
I wanted to talk about my embarrassment in not even knowing my own anatomy.
I needed to feel like I wasn't all alone.
Like I wasn't crazy.
I needed to share that I was in incredible pain and nothing was helping.
Physical pain. Emotional anguish. Guilt. Feeling like this was all my fault while lashing out at my husband.
Talking about how sex was impossible.
That I was considering a divorce.
The way I treated my husband.
The darkness we were going through.
Thinking I was being punished for my sins.
Thinking God was angry with me.
Doing anything possible to avoid having sex.
Falling into despair.
I'm not despairing anymore.
I'm in love with the amazing man I married.
I love that we get to be together and that it's a fabulous experience, spiritually, physically and otherwise.
I feel pleasure.
I feel alive.
If you are living through the hell my husband and I lived through,
Do not give up hope.
Do not despair.
There may be a solution.
Talk to Dr. Goldstein about it.
Do the surgery (if you have what I had).
And even if there isn't a solution yet-
there might be, one day.
We'll be hoping for you,
praying for you,
wanting you to join us in our
An incredible word.
An incredible sensation.
An incredible high.
My husband and I went through hell and back.
This was our journey.
We are the champions.