RE: Sexual Confidence Program Journal
Hey ya'll, this is my response to lesson #3. It's insanely long, so I don't expect anyone to read it, but I wanted to throw it up here because sharing with you guys gives me some accountability in the process of this program.
In general, I am only on lesson four, but am finding myself feeling a lot better about myself as a sexual creature. It's just been awesome, actually, because I think I've denied some aspect of that for so long. I've also taken on the 60-day no-porn challenge.
Anyway, here it is:
Lesson 3: Write out your entire sexual history, including your sexual shortcomings and failings. Be as detailed as possible.
Wow. Okay. Childhood. As a kid I got huge crushes on girls. I remember my first one (on a real girl, not a literary character) was on a black-haired beauty in 1st grade. Never said anything to her. Ditto for the next 12 years of school.
Intense fantasy and longing, never any words or actions. I remember one girl I was CRAZY about in high school. A buddy of hers told me I should just ask her out and she’d say yes. Didn’t do it. Oh yeah, but I did get a job at Macy’s just so I would have opportunities to be next to her / talk to her. Ugh. But yeah, I’m gonna’ skip all the elementary, middle and high school crushes. They were intense and overwhelming, but they all followed more or less the same theme. I was just too frightened to speak to girls at all at that time, and hung with the very intelligent and very unkempt and very fun nerdy crew of the school.
College. Lost my virginity Freshman year. The girl made it REALLY easy for me. But even calling it a loss of virginity is problematic since I was kind of disgusted with the whole process, had NO idea what I was doing, found it to be quite painful and horribly unpleasant. In a couple of days I took the poor girl for a walk around campus during which I told her that I was a “romantic” and that we couldn’t really have anything between us. Ouch. This is going to be a long narrative of all the opportunities that were thrown at me and that I passed up because of fear or total disconnection between the mind and body.
Sophomore year in college I got my first girlfriend and we even lived together for a while. I initiated, and took her on the first date, but then felt very reluctant to pursue it further. She kind of pursued it herself, I submitted to the pursuit – and voila – relationship.
Our relationship was great in many ways, but I knew that I didn’t have the deep feelings for her that she had for me (a pattern that would repeat itself many times in my life). We lived together for a while, and then I couldn’t handle it
anymore, broke up with her, felt terrible and missed her, got back together, and then broke up again. She threatened me with suicide on many occasions if we don’t get back together, but I held my ground, and now she is married (happily, I hope) and is about to have twins! We occasionally chat on-line and when she’s in DC where my mom lives, she sometimes visits her.
Okay. When I was at my university I ran for student body president, and my team and I took pictures of ourselves of us in our boxers. I remember going to some girl’s dorm campaigning (we knocked on every door on campus. It scared the shit out of me, but I did it to get more confident), and they had our posters on their walls! They flirted with us, but I did nothing.
Then I met this beautiful black girl. I met her with some friends on campus and we got high and her and I entered a staring competition. I was high on pot, and she seemed amazing to me, like an African lion princess. She asked my friends as she stared into my eyes, “Does Alex have a girlfriend?” I said, “No, but you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen and you should be my girlfriend.” I don’t know if it’s because I was high or because it was clear she was interested from that
question, but that was one time I was able to be REALLY upfront with my attraction, and it worked out great. She got into me.
But I couldn’t maintain that style of naturalness and forwardness, and she tried to hook up with one of my friends, who rejected it because he had a girlfriend and didn’t want to hurt me. (Good man.) We then hooked up some more, but I was SO incompetent in the sexual area, and by then had developed such an extreme fear of premature ejaculation, that it was pretty much just heavy petting and stuff. What’s more, she was in an open relationship with her fiance and didn’t want anything serious with me, but I couldn’t get it through my mind that a girl like that might be okay, and healthy and fine. I was fixated on some kind of romantic ideals that I held, which were also defenses against expressing my real sexual desires. So, after a couple of these fondling sessions, I took her for a “walk” also, and told her that we’re both crazy, and it’s just too much crazy for me, so let’s just cut everything off. Really, I was just running from the fact that I was afraid that I couldn’t stick my dick inside of her properly and that, once I do, I’ll cum too fast. Whoooo!
At the same time as I met her, I met this other girl who was SUPER into me and thought that I was Buddha himself. (I’m a very spiritual person, and some women find that really attractive.) (I think that my love of spirituality, while being awesome and an amazing part of my life, has also kept me disconnected from my body/desires.)
So, this girl was super into me, but she was a little bit heavy-set. I think that if I had met her now as she was then, I would hook up with he without a problem. But at that time I had this extremely cerebral approach to women. “Does she match the type in my mind?” That’s the question I would ask, instead of feeling what my gut and balls and blood tell me. Anyway, at some point we were lying in bed together, and I just told her that she wasn’t my type and that’s why I didn’t want to do anything with her. Probably made her feel really bad. Fast forward a bunch of years, she’s now married and has become SUPER hot by working out. As a result of this program, I want to now tell her how incredibly fucking sexy she has become.
Still in college. Polish girl. A friend. One day we went for a car ride with a bunch of people. She was sitting on my lap and we had a jug of wine and we were both getting super drunk. It was clear that she wanted to fuck. Obvious. I knew it. Then we came back to my place. Well, I just pretended like I noticed nothing, talked about bullshit, and let the whole thing painfully dissipate. Why? Again, I didn’t think I would want her for some kind of eternal girlfriend that I have been seeking all my life, some perfect woman who I will marry and who will be by my bedside as I am dying, surrounded by our children and grandchildren, after we have lived the perfect life of bliss, creating terrible jealousy in everyone around us. She was not that woman. She was a human being. So I just chose to do nothing. At the same time, as always, I was afraid of not fucking her right and of her judgment of me as a man. Bam.
Pizza girl. She worked in a pizza place that my friends and I would go to all the time. She was, I declare, my dream woman.
She was that kind of tall, Mexican girl, with perfect skin, a little upturned nose, bright big black eyes and black hair coming down her shoulders and back in large, luxurious waves. I was in love with her, she was the perfect woman for me. I never dared say anything to her. Then, one day, I’m in the pizza shop with a really crazy friend of mine, this dude who did way too many drugs and was just a nutcase. He was talking to he while I was sitting at a table, pretending like I’m all cool and don’t care who he’s talking to. I was there with another friend too. He comes back and tells me, “I asked her, is there any man that you like in this pizza place right now? And she said it was you.” I didn’t know whether to believe him. He was a bit of a nutcase. But those weren’t the kind of things he was nutty about, and he just seemed to be stating a fact. As you can imagine, I did nothing. Walked out of there and avoided the pizza shop for a couple of weeks. Yeah! Failure!
In college still. Music Theory Class girl. Smoked weed with her after class. Rode around in her car. Don’t know if she was interested in anything more than that, but I never made the barest of moves. And I was extremely Nice Guy around her. Yeah…
Then this chick I went on a date on. Asked her out. She was a pretty depressive girl. Depressed. Told me all about her depression. Turned me off. Didn’t want to mess with her. I was in a band at that time (again, something I was doing because I loved it, and because I knew it would help me get more confident), and after she saw me play she told her friend (the black girl from earlier) that she realized how hot I was. Complete inaction. Didn’t even worry about it.
Also, while I was in that band, I hooked up with the black girl again after the show. Again, I didn’t quite know how to communicate any of my fears/desires, and it just resulted in being a frustrating petting session. Sigh.
College ended. I was working in a diner and playing in this band. We didn’t play much actually, mostly rehearsed. Girl comes to a diner with a kid. Super cute. Gorgeous. I get a big crush right away. I’m super nice to the kid, bring her crayons and stuff and joke around with them. She leaves me her number under her plate! I call her. Turns out she’s in high school. I still want to pursue, but don’t play it cool in the LEAST, and she disappears on me. Frustration.
Next, I go to Russia to teach English. Again, I was thinking about becoming a teacher but also did it to become more confident.
First there’s this one student. She is your classic definition of a Russian bombshell beauty. Oh my friggin God. Huge, perfect breasts. Bug, beautiful eyes. Lovely auburn hair. Tall. Confident. Amazing smile.
She was into me. But I didn’t know how to do ANYTHING at that time people, ANYTHING – why is this shit not taught in school?
She made it so easy for me. We went to a movie, her and another student, and during the movie she held onto my hand and buried her face in my shoulder “because the movie was scary”. Oh my goodness. Anyway, suffice it to say that I did nothing and bombed everything and she ended up dropping out of my class. Yessireebob. That’s what happened.
Then I met this Russian chick at a club. Now I’m Russian myself. Met her. Don’t know how. Did. Danced with her in a very sexual way. She was a beautiful blonde engineer. Got her number. Set up a date. Stood her up. I was kind of depressed when I was over there, and adding more anxiety to my life than I was already feeling seemed unbearable.
Then there was a French girl, fellow teacher, who became my second girlfriend. I’m good at being social and smiling at first and girls are sometimes charmed by that. The go-getters among them can break down my walls.
I smiled and was charming. She threw herself at me. I dodged. She threw herself at me again. I rolled and hid behind a corner. She threw herself at me again. I wanted sex very badly and was extremely lonely, so I went for it. This is the girl I
was chatting with on facebook today! We had some great sex, even she was totally crazy. I told her that I loved her, even though I didn’t. I brought her flowers every week, I literally spent 20% of my paycheck on flowers (I made very little money) because I felt guilty about not loving her as much as she loved me. Looking back, she would have been happy to just hook up.
But that model of the world did not exist for me. I also spent about 10% of my pay on viagra, trying to fight off my premature ejaculations which had come to terrorize my mind completely. They were a big reason I was always scared to
escalate.
Moving right along. The French girl wanted to leave everything and come to America with me. (And my first girlfriend wanted to marry me.) I said that would be impossible, and returned to the States.
I remember getting drunk and high with some local kids in local city, and this beautiful black girl flirting with me, and doing nothing other than vomiting up like a madman all over my bathroom.
Then I met Julie, a gorgeous Russian girl with blonde hair.
When I met her, I was 24 and she was 19. I approached her in a laundramat, indirectly, and things developed very quickly from there. At first I was uncertain, but then she said she would be leaving in two days, and I thought I could have a quick hookup. Well, it turned into a two year relationship. Long-story short (because who can read all this or even write it!?), all of my friends hated her, and she was a truly poisonous person. But I was in love with how hot she was and how that validated me. I was miserable with her. I hated it. But our sex was amazing, even though I was still constantly cumming way too fast. But we still had an awesome fucking time in bed. She had some serious narcissistic tendencies, was an utter materialist, and I dropped many of my dreams trying to live up to her vision of what a real man is like. Still, I did it all for the nookie. The nookie. The…
Okay.
It became clear rather fast that my Russian girl was not the angelic princess who would accompany me into the world beyond one day, but I couldn’t bring myself to break up with her. Stayed with her WAY too long. A year I think. And then spent a year just hooking up and driving each other nuts. I also married her so she wouldn’t get deported, and she is just now applying for her citizenship. I’m not ashamed of that. I think i did something good for her and her family, and I’m proud of it. But sweet God, lot’s O pain.
Moving on!
I began working at a publishing house. Hot Germanic girl named Amanda there. She literally took me to her house, gave me beer, sat mad close to me on the couch, did everything in her power to seduce me without actually making the first move. I didn’t get it. Or, I got it, but thought that sex could only be had in the context of a relationship. Ugh. All this missed sex is bringing me down, man.
Then Kimberly. I also met her at a publishing house. Beautiful girl. Soft, big eyes, lovely curls, huge breasts – wonderful. She made it SO obvious that she was into me. She said I was the most interesting person I had ever met. Kept inviting me to her MOTHERFUCKING BEACH HOUSE!!! Okay, let me calm down. She kept inviting me to her beach house. Again, didn’t realize I could just have sex and that this would be fine as long as I was direct about being a sexual creature that loves sex. Passed it up.
I’m skipping various girls who I thought were very hot and to whom I just said nothing. There were so many, and that would be boring. May they live in peace, and come back into my life, and have tons of glorious sex with me.
So then I decided to become a therapist and went to work with people with various forms of autism and mental retardation. Working with them was amazing and they totally rocked and gave me lots of love. There were lots of incredibly hot girls that I did nothing with, but there was this one girl – Jennifer.
Beatiful. Tall. Loved Shakespeare. Loved dogs. Smart. Columbia student. Absolutely delicious. I got super into her. She gave me a lot of signs of interest. Then told me she had a boyfriend.
I went into Nice Guy Seducer overdrive. Talked to her for hours, grabbed after-work drinks with her, taught her guitar in the park. I think she was into me too, to a degree, but she had a boyfriend that she lived with and it was just not gonna’ happen. She ended up leaving the job. And I felt like I had been had.
This is when I found the seduction community. I drank up the materials the way a fat kid drinks milkshakes. Mainly listening to Pickup Podcast, David D, Carols Xuma… It did me a lot of good, actually. It’s like, the world came into focus, and I understood what everyone around me is doing for the first time, or at least got a glimpse of it. I then did this one phone coaching session where the coach challenged me to interact with two strangers every day, even if what I say to them is “Googalee gobalee goo” – anything would be good.
I did this for maybe three-four weeks, and in the library, met my fourth girlfriend, Susannah, by asking her if she knew what time the library closed and going from there.
Susannah was a breath of fresh air. Beautiful blonde hair and green eyes, she was twenty when we met and I was twenty-seven.
I had overcome my premature ejaculation issues by then and just gotten better at sex as a whole, and the sex that we had together was the best I’ve ever had in my life.
But even in the beginning of that relationship, I was experience some major commitment phobia. I was very hesitant going into it, but went into it anyway, unable to fully express my doubts or desires. As the relationship progressed, this phobia got worse. And worse. And worse.
I was constantly obsessing about other women, comparing Susannah to them, wishing I was with them and not with her. At the same time, I knew how good I had it. Here was a girl that was sweet, intelligent, infinitely supportive. But my eyes kept wandering to the insanely, mind-blowingly, almost offensively hot women I saw walking around New York town where I now resided, and I was restless and unsatisfied.
After two years, I broke things off.
In the year since then, I have had very little sex. I hooked up once with the Russian ex-gf, and twice with a friend of mine whom I met dancing swing. She’s an awesome, smart girl, and hooking up with her has expanded my mind a lot about women, their desire for sex, the okayness of casual relationships, etc., etc.
Susannah meanwhile has been in a one year relationship. The guy ended up being a criminal who lied to her a lot and her relationship just ended. I saw her recently, and she looked really hot to me. I didn’t know I was going to write that, but there it is.
So, I don’t expect anyone to read this, but I suppose it was good for me to write, to piece everything together.
I now hope to go forward, feeling good about myself as a sexual being, making girls feel awesome by expressing my desire for them, and just fucking having a good time on this earth.
Amen!
PS This was not hard for me to write. I’ve spent my whole life being as honest as I can be with myself and trying to put my darkest fears under the light. There’s still a lot of me that needs to be integrated into consciousness, but that’s what I’m here for. So, fuck it, I feel good about who I am at this particular moment.
|
Sexual Confidence Program Journal
