I gave in to the hysteria of women everywhere going “zomg! you have to read this book, Fifty Shades of Grey.
I was so completely underwhelmed in the first few chapters. To sum up for you:
“Hi, baby, my name is Christian Grey, baby. I am hot, rich and like to fuck, baby. I have commitment issues, baby. I have control issues, baby. I have rules, baby. I’m a bad boy, baby.”
“Hi, I’m Anastasia Steele. I am 21 and have never had a sexual thought in my entire life. I have never kissed, I have never wanted to be kissed, I have never touched myself, the extent of my experience is what my friends told me about Judy Blume books ….. Sir. My inner goddess peeks her head out, smiles and says ‘Oh I can TOTALLY change a man as totally fucked up as this. My subconscious is so naive she can’t even begin to understand how much that will never ever happen. You can’t fix someone else’s fucked up.”
The first time they
make love, fuck hard, do it, she is instantly lubed up, the condom package opens easily and rolls on without effort, she not nervous at all, and she is banged with about all the finesse of the infamous Brokeback Mountain scene. She comes repeatedly from very little effort on the part of anyone, she never chafes, never wonders if her cervix is going to bruise, never questions, never inadvertently gets a wad of hair in her mouth and has to spit it out. She also has no gag reflex and, even though, she has never thought about anything sexual, she knows to cover her teeth with her lips whilst doing the oral thing.
So clearly, fiction.
I kept reading. What I am getting out of it is different than what some will get out of it.
These people talk. And talk and talk. They are very clear about what they want . . . well he is, to the point of having a written contract about it. Which, really, how awesome would that be? Here is a list of things that I will not tolerate, you make up your own list and then we know. Hard limits. How nice would it be to know that upfront, if you call him Sir or Darling that he will recoil. How fantastic would it be to feel free enough with someone to say what you are comfortable with, what you would like to try.”
So it is about communication. It’s also about trust. Trusting that person you are naked and vulnerable with. Now, I’m not suggesting that we all need a Red Room of Pain and nipple clamps, but what about pushing a personal boundary? Sex with the lights on? No? Sex in the dark, yet NOT under the covers? What about touching him *there* if you want to know what it feels like? What about saying “SLOWER” when you want slower, instead of letting him assume the pace he has set is right for both of you?
What about letting your inner freak flag fly? Getting over trying to be perfect for someone else and instead just being you?
I’m at the start of something new. All that newness and boundary setting and establishing how things are and how things can be. I’ve never talked so much at the beginning before. I’ve never been so much just ME with a man before. Can I tell you how fantastic that is? To embrace the whole “this is me, like it, hate it, here is a list of the fucks I give about what you think about who I am, because I like me, if you do – great, welcome to it.”
I refuse to live anyone else’s life again. This is my life. It is still scary to be open and vulnerable and take the risk of sharing actual me. Yet, I can not tell you how good it feels, at last to know who I am and have the icing on top of being adored for being that person.