Part 1: An Evolution: From a Culture of Shame to a Sex Therapy Certification

Sex, intimacy, and connection have been a central theme in my life for 20+ years.

Growing up in a conservative town, with shame-based beliefs, and the facade of connection, I thought I was broken. I could not figure out why I had desires and longings. I did not understand why I wanted physical closeness. I was so preoccupied by honest, non-judgmental connection. Small towns in southern Idaho aren’t exactly known for their openness, compassion—for marginalized populations—, and sexual equity. For me, in my community, the religiocentric culture was the only way to build and keep relationships. So, obeying those explicit and implicit rules was the primary way to be “accepted”. In short, this meant hiding parts of myself were essential.

Recently, I talked with some of my long-time friends. They knew me as a teenager. They shared musings that painted an unmistakable picture of the sexual air with which I navigated life. The “trail of boys” low-level buzz seemed to generate conversation amongst my friends. At my 20^th class reunion, classmates made mention of it as we were engaged in casual conversation. Was it really that obvious? I guess it was to everyone else, but me. ‘Boy crazy’ became part of the vernacular in my home during elementary school. This verbiage was from parents who assumed I was heterosexual. Generally, I thought I was savvy at hiding those parts of me. I pursued the ‘good girl’ role as best I could. My dad had a succinct phrase to describe the flirty crushes and relationship interests that emerged during my teenage years: ‘You catch and release, Bethany.’ It was said in jest. Still, I couldn’t help but want to sever that part of me. I wanted to suppress my eros energy. I hoped that doing so would allow me to ‘fit in’ and gain acceptance from friends and family.

The physical discomfort I experience writing this is profound. Anticipating sharing publicly heightens this sensation. It is almost enough to have me run in the opposite direction. The bodily sensations communicate “it is not safe to share those parts of myself”. Yes, some may argue that this is an intimate part of me that need not be shared. I understand that perspective. However, remaining silent is no longer serving me. Holding the discomfort of childhood shame needs to end. This is a letting go practice for me, accepting whatever aftereffects follow. If it means de-cluttering aspects of my life, so be it; a deep clean is needed.

Truth be told, this blog has been simmering for a long time. Thoughts, emotions, and physical sensations have guided me. They have provided information about how and when to share this part of me that I have so aptly rejected. For a long time, I feared my nervous system would collapse if I shared some of this. And, although, some may argue it isn’t that vulnerable, my nervous system said otherwise. So, I listened and found some pearls of wisdom.

I learned some important things:

1. Our shadow selves WILL make its way to the surface one way or another.
2. Concealed shame only ignites the wildfire of pre-conceived fear of ‘enough-ness’, corroding the sense of self.
3. Exposed shame reveals our humanity and can restore connection.
4. Conscious sex, intimacy, and connection are divine, and beautiful ways honor the body, mind, and another person.
5. Fierce honesty about who you are, what you need, and claiming it is an easier path to freedom.
6. Sexual integrity is one of the most empowering experiences.
7. Holding on to old versions of self rarely makes room for growth. It prevents you from becoming the expansive, expressive, and loving person you already are.
8. Fear constricts our energy.
9. Courage expands our energy.
10. Love is the only way through this messy life.

Many of us hide parts of ourselves for fear of judgment, criticism, shame, and blame. We fear being ostracized completely. Tribalism is a survival mechanism deeply engrained in us. It keeps us from taking the risk to individualize more. By adhering to the tribal identity in the group, we shared resources, agreed to norms and rules, and, ultimately, we were at an evolutionary advantage. To be more autonomous and authentic, we must risk our tribal identity. This autonomy and authenticity come with the risk of social rejection. Social rejection registers in the brain similarly as physical pain. This explains why people create entire lives based on a facade. They do so to keep family and friends “close.” Deconstructing this facade may necessitate a whole lot of pain, grief, and loss.

I have avoided sharing several parts of myself with friends and family for that very reason, fear of pain and rejection. I convinced myself my nervous system could not handle the loss. And sometimes the pain of living the facade creates just the chaffing needed to make the other painful authentic choice. Either decision requires discomfort, but only one of the decisions requires self-rejection.

I turned 42 years old recently. The de-construction of my past and some of its harmful messaging has been challenging to say the least. Observing how this indoctrination saturates my relationships reveals the reach of these ‘morals.’ This also influences my sense of self. Their deep-seated roots are exposed in my psyche. Now that I am a therapist, I have the honor of hearing people’s deepest fears, desires, hopes, and grief. Soon, I will also become a sex therapist. I hold people’s minds, hearts, and souls as they travel unknown territory. To help them further, I am excited to add even more understanding, skills, and knowledge as they navigate their paths.

The conversations I have with clients about sex and intimacy are striking to me. We discuss their interests and fantasies. We also talk about non-traditional relationships and more. Of these, common themes that arise are shame, secrecy, disconnection, fear, mind and body trauma, and confusion. What continually surprises me is they preface the conversation by saying,” is it OK if I talk about sex? I’m not sure if that’s allowed here.” Are you kidding me?! YES, please talk about it! I know from personal experience that rejecting that aspect of self can create such distress, sadness, and isolation. Rarely, are our sexual selves brought into the therapy room.

It is paramount that we invite all parts of self to the proverbial table.

Entering my fifth decade, I plan to shed the layers of unhealthy conditioning. I will also leave behind limiting beliefs, somatic constraints, and religious confines from my upbringing. I will welcome desires and longings without intense questioning. Physical closeness and honest, non-judgmental connection will also have a place in my life.

And peace will be my roots.

Love will be my core.

Joy will be my sun.

Stillness, my moon and liberation my north star.

My sex therapy training and certification begins in one month. This allows me to continue my life’s central theme of sex, intimacy, and connection for another 20+ years.