The Porn Study: 6 Weeks, Forgetting how to do “real” sex

Sometimes I’m actually afraid I’ll forget how to have “real” sex; that one day I’ll be naked with someone lovely and I’ll ask him to hold my leg up and out so the non-existent camera can get a better angle of my cooch, or I’ll leave on my socks and shoes for traction, or worse yet, I’ll forget to kiss my partner, to look into his eyes and remember that he is a person, that we are people connecting for reasons other than for a camera.

I’ve been on my steady stream of mainstream porn now for about 6 weeks and the effects are real and slightly terrifying. Beyond coding every single sexual situation I see, I’m beginning to worry I won’t be able to actually connect with someone again on a physical level without hearing imaginary bow-chicka-bow-wow music in my head.

Without delving too deeply into my dating habits in my new city, let me just say I have met a bevy of wonderful young men, none of whom have tickled my particular fickle fancy. Which is to say I’m am single, a status I’m used to, but one that feels particularly lonely now that I’ve surrounded myself of images of strangers banging. Without having a partner to balance out the images of fake boobs and inhumanly large penises, I’m afraid my brain is forgetting what it is to have intimate sex.

Or maybe I’m just horny.

Either way, this is becoming a rather painful processing of uncomfortable learning. I feel unbalanced, pushed to my edge of what is not just comfortable, but rationale and even spiritually safe. It is here – teetering – that I contemplate just how much of my personal life, my sexuality, my balance I will willingly give up. It is here that I have to admit: I’m afraid I won’t regain my comfort and ease with real life sex; that this project will somehow change forever how I view sex and not in a better way.

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