“It’s just a fantasy, but …”
How many times have you said this to yourself about a dream or imagined scenario, then tried to dismiss it from your mind? You’ve tried to dismiss this image, scenario or compelling thought that got you hot, made your eyes sparkle, and gave you – even if for a few moments – a feeling of vitality, or perhaps even power. Then you’ve dismissed it from your mind, and got on with the important business of rational, everyday living.
Or perhaps you’ve had someone close to you say this (a lover or close friend), then divulge something they find hard to express? And their words have seemed cloaked in a tone of shame, embarrassment, or wistfulness.
Why are so many of us conditioned to give so little attention to our sexual fantasies, to not see them as important? As important, say, as that great idea in that last business meeting that got the bosses’ attention, and on following it through, got us a promotion.
The slippery world of advertising is constantly trying to sell us things through tapping into common elements of sexual fantasies, but these ‘packaged dreams’ will never be as unique as your own.
Reframing our ideas about sexual fantasies can bring us into more positive relationship with our “secret sexual selves” – those aspects we may hide from ourselves and others, feeling that they are shameful, unacceptable or taboo. Yet unearthing and expressing these fantasies often hold the potential to re-connect us to our sexual aliveness and authenticity.
A sexual fantasy can be about:
What we are doing.
What is being done to us
It can be about imagining experiences, sensations, or scenarios in which you are directly involved, or watching –or both.
Fantasies can be about pain or pleasure or both.
And what one person perceives as pain may be another person’s version of pleasure. Flogging, spanking, neck-biting, nipple-clamping … these are just some examples of activities that individuals may have vastly different responses to. But is anyone wrong for fantasising or not fantasising about these elements? No.
This is the nature of a sexual fantasy: like a signature it is unique to you, and tells a story about you. Where you have been, who you are right now, and where you desire to go.
So what might be ways that we can “give voice” to our sexual fantasies, allowing the whole of our sexuality to speak? I’ll be exploring this more in the next installment of this post, as well as other questions around acknowledging and exploring sexual fantasies.
I’m a relatively new fish in the big blogging pond, but in reviewing my blog stats today, I noticed that my two or three ‘sexual fantasies‘ tags on this blog brought sixteen people to my blog in the last month. That’s a search every second day. That’s quite a lot of curiosity around one particular subject …
This isn’t surprising at all to me. Becoming an erotica writer has increased my ability to pay attention to this part of my imagination. And strengthened my belief that this aspect of ourselves has a vital connection to increased self-awareness, creativity, sexual fulfillment – and healing.
“The erotic can never be restricted to the body alone; the imagination always plays a part.”
Margaret Reynolds (Erotica Anthology)
Over the coming weeks, I’ll be posting more on this topic. Recently I ran a workshop at a weekend festival around sexuality on this very topic, which I’ll also be drawing some observations and material from. I’d love to hear your thoughts on sexual fantasies, too. Come on – let’s make it a conversation … I hate monologues.