(Trigger Warning) Fake Orgasms, Rape Culture, and Being a Survivor
[Serious trigger warning, folks. This is the first time I’ve written in detail about shit this raw/being raped.]
I see a lot of shit on Tumblr, hear things from people I know, …and basically everywhere getting on (particularly) women for faking orgasms. Blaming them and saying shit like, “well, you’d have better sex if you just communicated,” or “you’re only hurting yourself,” “it’s your own fault,” whatever blah blah blah.
Well let me tell you something,
My introduction to sex was with my first serious boyfriend, who became my fiance. We were together for two years, and this is before I had any real understanding of consent, coercion, or rape.
During our relationship, he decided that if I didn’t feel like having sex, he would continually coerce me, guilt-trip me, and make me feel like there was something wrong with me until I gave in just to get him to leave me alone. That’s not consent. That’s rape. It has taken me a very long time to admit to myself, but it was. And this happened again and again in the two years that we were together. I didn’t understand what was happening and he always made me feel like I owed him sex. And I loved him, and had been taught that I existed to please and sexually satisfy him, so it went on.
Because I wasn’t turned on when he wanted to fuck me, it hurt like hell. And he kept telling me there must have been something medically wrong with me that was causing this problem. I believed it. I hated myself and my body for betraying me like this, because I just wanted to please him. And a big part of pleasing him was acting like I enjoyed myself, because if I didn’t, he’d take it out on me.
So I started faking orgasms because it was a way to make him cum so that he would fucking stop.
It was really effective and it became a survival tactic.
Read that again.
IT BECAME A SURVIVAL TACTIC.
Eventually and obviously, we broke up, but he is not the only person who has raped me. This is a learned behavior I adopted when I felt like I had no way out. If I didn’t do it, I would have a panic attack. Sometimes I still do have panic attacks during sex when I’m triggered. Sometimes I still fake orgasms when I’m feeling cornered or pressured. I try not to, but as a rape survivor, I’m really fucked up about sex sometimes and it’s a defense mechanism. It’s a way to get myself out.
So basically, if you call someone an idiot for faking an orgasm or talk shit or harass them about it,
you can take your victim blaming, misogynist bullshit somewhere else.
I was surprised to realize how much I empathized with all of this. I was with someone for over four years who was also my first sexual partner. I always felt obligated to do what he wanted. If I wanted to cuddle or touch sensually, he would say “Don’t start the engine if you don’t want to drive the car.” Blowjobs or sex were a prerequisite for affection. In other words, my needs/desires were always second to his.
When I refused to do something he wanted, he would persist for hours, days, or months. (three-somes, car-head, sex in public, sex in the house with my parents/small siblings at home,ect). It did not matter how many times I said “no.” This would almost always end up with him getting angry.
I do not believe all the things he wanted to do were inherently problematic, but my “no” was never goodenough. He would insist my feelings were invalid, illogical, and unnecessary.
"You’re being too paranoid!"
"Don’t you find me attractive?"
“I just don’t understand why you have a problem with <xyz>.”
"C’mon, babe. Science says sex will make you happier/feel better/make that headache go away."
When the fights got heated, If I cried, I was being overly sensitive. If I didn’t cry, I was supposedly apathetic. He admitted to intentionally pushing my buttons until he could visibly see how much I “cared.”
Not once did I reach orgasm with him and not once did I lie about it, but it would have stopped a lot of fighting if I had faked it. Our sex life was rarely focused on my emotional/physical needs. He wanted very badly for me to achieve orgasm with him. We tried a few times, but he saw my orgasm as a reflection on his sexual prowess. He would get angry and frustrated when I couldn’t reach climax. It was because I “didn’t find him attractive enough,” or I was “too uptight.” I came to associate orgasm with a partner not only as an impossibility, but as a stressor.
We stopped trying to make me climax altogether. It was less stressful for me to stop focusing on my pleasure and desires. If I didn’t want him to get angry with me I had to give him what he wanted.Even when I didn’t want it, even when it hurt, even when I was ill, I would concede. At the time, it wasn’t worth the fight anymore. If I wanted to be with the person I loved, I felt that was the price I had to pay.
Over two years later, I still have problems receiving pleasure. I tell my partners upfront that I have great difficultly reaching climax with other people. Despite many partners of all shapes and sizes, I have reached climax a literal handful of times with a partner present. It is still nerve-wracking to think about.
To this day, the idea of orgasming with another person makes me nervous. I may enjoy passively receiving pleasure,but that edge of anxiety does not leave. I never feel entirely safe in sexual situations. I never feel comfortable taking sexual pleasure. I never feel comfortable with sex focused on myself.
I do not feel comfortable calling my experiences with that person rape, but it has taken me years to even begin to demand the right to my own sexual/emotional satisfaction.
Thank you for sharing this, Cage-Veil-Cunt. My anxiety makes more sense now.