A Lesson from Grandma’s Cookies: Guilt, Shame, and Disassociating From my Body
I bought a double chocolate Grandma’s cookie from a convenience store. Got in the car and mindlessly ate half a cookie when I realized – I wasn’t enjoying it. I barely even tasted it. Not because I don’t sometimes crave the taste of artificially flavored chocolate goodies (I do).
I stared at the remaining half of my cookie and realized: I felt guilty eating it. I didn’t even look at the ingredients because I knew it was full of crap I don’t normally eat – high fructose corn syrup, loads of preservatives, possibly titanium or silicon dioxide or baking soda laced with aluminum. I knew it would only make my candida (overgrowth of yeast in the intestines, causing vaginal yeast infections) worse. So even though I wanted it, bought and paid for it, when it came time to eat it – I disassociated from the experience because I felt bad.
Like many women, I used to struggle with my weight – going back and forth from a starving myself 85 pounds to binge eating my way to 135 or 140 (note: I’m only 5′). Learning about the fucked up food system, the effect of GMOs, HFC, and various toxins on the body, and how processed sugar creates yeast problems led to a huge change in my eating habits. I’m probably 95 pounds now, not because I want to be thin, but because that’s just where my body lands living on organic food (including goodies) and lots of vegetables. But I never let go of feeling guilty for eating what I want.
What does this have to do with sex?
I do the same freaking thing. It used to be every time I asked for something sexual and I got it, I’d become extremely anxious, disassociate, and not feel a thing. I felt I shouldn’t be having sex, wanting what I wanted, enjoying my body. I like to think I’m over these things, because I intellectually know better and do have some amazing experiences, but that old programming remains. When it starts feeling REALLY GOOD, my mind will often find a million and one reasons to stop it – I have to pee, I need a drink, I need to change positions, I’m out of breath, I need to put laundry into the dryer – it doesn’t matter whether its true or not. Its an excuse my mind uses to take me out of this pleasurable experience.
I’ve spent a ton of time and energy blaming my partners for my lackluster sexual experiences. But the most frustrating thing about it is – I realize now – no matter what they could have done (or what my husband currently does), it makes no fucking difference if MY autopilot response is to check out. That’s all me.
But the great thing is – its all me. I can change it.
I stared at my cookie and decided I was going to savor every bite of its artificial chocolately goodness. Okay, maybe I only savored a half of it. But it was a start.
Posted: May 14th, 2012 under Embodied Sexuality - No Comments. Tags: disassociation, physical








