For many people, sex is mostly about success and failure: whether or not they unintentionally hurt, disappoint, or annoy their partner; or expose themselves as inadequate or inexperienced; or make a fool of themselves. Frequently people are concerned that their body won’t do what it “should” (like get an erection) or that it will do what it “shouldn’t” (like wet the bed). For millions of men and women, “I didn’t mess that up too badly” is as good as sex gets.
One of the wonderful things about sex is that we can make it a place where mistakes are simply not possible, and where virtually nothing can go wrong—not because we become sexually perfect, but because we radically redefine sexual “success.”
Meanwhile, here are the sounds of “performance anxiety,” Perhaps you’ve said or thought one or more of these yourself, anxious that you might not “perform” as expected by either your partner or yourself:
• “She’s expecting sex on her birthday—and I can’t guarantee I’ll be in the mood.”
• “I can’t compete with Megan Fox/ insert athletes / pornstars.”
• “We went out last week with a couple that just fell in love. It’s intimidating to be with people so hot for each other.”
• “Oprah says if you can’t get it up, it’s either my fault or your fault.”
• “My girlfriend just lost weight and bought lingerie—what if I’m not interested enough?”
• “It’s been a perfect Saturday night—I’d hate to ruin it by agreeing to have sex and then coming too soon.”
• “He hasn’t had sex in a week, and tomorrow the kids return from camp.”
• “That film we saw last week turned out to be really sexy, and we were both squirming uncomfortably.” Most people want to “perform” well during sex, imagining that it’s the best way to create satisfaction (and avoid “failure” and their partner’s disappointment). But especially since so much of sexual “performance” is beyond our control (we can’t will an erection or lubrication), the need to “perform” well leads to anxiety. Ironically, feeling pressure to perform “successfully” during sex creates and maintains much of the sexual difficulty and frustration that people fear, and ultimately have. People crave relief from this pressure, while lamenting that relief is impossible. Of course, pursuing relief from performance anxiety by attempting to perform better is exactly the wrong way to do it—but clearly that’s what many people imagine will work. We can laugh at the superstitions of star athletes: Michael Jordan wearing his North Carolina shorts under his Bulls uniform every game, or Peyton Manning reading the stadium program cover to cover before every game. But while these rituals are harmless, focusing on sexual performance isn’t—in fact, it often makes our “performance” worse. Imagine how quickly Michael Jordan would ditch those shorts if he knew they were undermining his shooting! Today’s self-help industry, psychology and medical experts, and marriage revival workshops ignore this basic truth. They try to help people have better sex by leaving their faulty assumptions and rigid definitions in place, simply adding gender myths and sunny “you can do it” encouragement on top of them. But like constructing a building on a shaky foundation, it’s a mistake, one that makes the sexual “failure” people fear almost inevitable. That’s why so much of my caseload is people who have “failed” with other therapists and programs. And then “women” are blamed. Or “men” are blamed. Or sex is blamed. While we’re at it, let’s remember to blame pornography, stress, menopause, “you’ve gained weight,” and all that email that’s always piling up. Attempting to resolve emotional issues around sex by trying to have amazing sex is like attempting to resolve the emotional needs we bring to athletics by trying to be an amazing athlete. When my patient Juan was a kid, he was terrible at sports. He wanted to please his father, a soccer player who treated his physically awkward son harshly. In response, of course, Juan always tried too hard, which made playing well even more difficult—and even if he had played well, there’s no way he could have enjoyed it. As a child, Juan had emotional needs connected with sports—feeling worthy of his father’s love, feeling connected with others his age—that he couldn’t satisfy. Rather than using sports as the way to address these internal issues, Juan might have used a different vehicle (interesting conversation, a shared hobby, pride in a career)—except that he was a kid. Understandably, he believed that both his pain and its solution were located in sports.
As an adult, Juan now realizes that weekend athletics are just for fun, but they still feel terribly important to him, and it drives him crazy when he doesn’t succeed. That’s because the emotional pairing he learned in childhood is embedded in Juan’s unconscious. Would you have told young Juan that the answer to his problems with his father was to be a better athlete? Of course not. What about the adult Juan—would you tell him to just work harder and become a better athlete?
That’s the position many people are in about sexuality. They’re trying to resolve one or another psychological problem by trying to create amazing sex. And it simply doesn’t work. Besides, you can’t even have amazing sex when you’re focused on other emotional needs (especially if they’re unconscious). That’s like expecting to enjoy a concert or play when you’re afraid everyone’s staring at you, smirking at what you’re wearing. And so people pursue amazing sex, but they get neither their emotional nor their sexual needs met. And then they’re really disappointed—and often angry or self-critical as well.
So let’s go back to what people really want from sex.
Most people don’t talk about this accurately—either because they don’t have the vocabulary or because they’re embarrassed, hesitant, or scared to use words. (What’s your reason?) If people did talk about what they want from sex thoroughly and accurately, they’d use language that’s primarily experiential rather than functional. That is, instead of talking about what their bodies might do, they’d talk about how they would like to feel.
And how do people want to feel before, during, after, and with regard to sex?
• Un-self-conscious
• Youthful
• Graceful
• Passionate
• Like they have all the time in the world
• Attractive
• Competent
• Special
• Like they’re inventing sex
• Unintimidated
All this does sound great, doesn’t it? The challenge is to create such experiences while you relax. Otherwise, there’s a limit to how much you can enjoy such feelings.
SI
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