“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
OR both.
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.
artbyamandakennedy said:
When it comes to fantasy, nothing is off limits. Fantasy doesn’t always have to become reality but there can be fun in trying.. My fantasies have changed depending on what space I’m in, and who I’m with – if anyone. Reading erotica can bring new ideas into play also. My motto – always try something more than once [if only to get over the shock and see if you actually like it 😉 ]
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Emmanuelle de Maupassant said:
This is a fascinating sphere Adrea. I’m particularly interested by our sleeping dreams: how our subconscious speaks to us of our fears and desires.
While we may not wish to bring these fantasies to life in the real world, I absolutely believe that they are worth musing upon, to learn more about our sexual self.
Our minds take us to intriguing places.
I agree with you that ‘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.’
also that ‘this aspect of ourselves has a vital connection to increased self-awareness, creativity, sexual fulfillment – and healing.’
xx
Thank you again on a wonderful, provoking, perception-expanding post.
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Adrea Kore said:
Emmanuelle, I agree with you that our minds do indeed take us to intriguing places. Sometimes the meaning of what may have been a powerful, but incomprehensible dream becomes clearer over time, particularly if you have found ways of externally expressing aspects (or themes) of the dream over time. I now understand elements of a very sexual, but abstract dream I had many years ago. In the process of translating that dream into an erotic short story, I now see that I’ve explored and lived out several of those themes in my own sexual (and creative) exploration in the years in-between. And, having explored some of those once-taboo-to-me elements, I know I’ve become more sexually fulfilled. 🙂
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rvraiment said:
A very interesting post. I suspect that much of what we consider fantasy has become fantasy only because, for perhaps 2000 years, we have been repressing what should be our actuality. There are few safe spaces for most of us in which we can be ourselves, live our lives as we could choose to live them. My stories, I suppose, are the lives I would have lived had I enjoyed the opportunity.
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Adrea Kore said:
Thanks for reading, Richard. ‘There are few safe spaces for most of us in which we can be ourselves, live our lives as we could choose to live them.” For many people, sadly, this feels true; for those of us pre-disposed to expressing ourselves on paper, it can provide an outlet both creative and cathartic. I wrote this post with those in mind who are not erotica authors, as I think many people do not get past the taboo feeling of their fantasies, and feel burdened and haunted by them. When really there are many ways to begin acknowledging and exploring those part of ourselves.
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fictionbyspencer said:
As a guy who been sex shamed from boyhood like all other men, my first challenge in writing erotica was to shed the guilt associated with my sexual fantasies. Contrary to predictions I have not gone blind or becomes a sex crazed pervert. The good sisters were wrong.
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Adrea Kore said:
Thanks for commenting, Spencer. Yes, shame can be one of the primary obstacles to even just being able to enjoy one’s sexual fantasies for oneself! And it sounds like you have harnessed the inherent creative power in those fantasies and turned them into stories – stories that, perhaps unlike the original fantasies, you have been able to share with your reading public. (What would the ‘good sisters” of your past say to that?) 🙂 In this way, writing can indeed be a powerful transformation tool. x
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fictionbyspencer said:
The gift of reaching your 60’s is that taboos begin to fall off like old skin. On another platform I have written about how much I have learned about sex by writing erotica that I wish I had known as a younger man.
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Adrea Kore said:
Feel free to share the link here, Spencer. I’m sure there’d be interest in your reflections.
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fictionbyspencer said:
Thank you Andrea. Oddly enough, this site,which is dedicated to the meaning of manhood in the 21st century is really into sex shaming of men for their interest in pornography. Don’t get me started. This article was edited down but it’s a start. One of my goals in writing male-centric erotica was as a tool to enlighten men about how to have better sex. Sadly men don’t read erotic romance.
http://goodmenproject.com/featured-content/3-things-i-learned-about-sex-by-writing-erotica/
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