Yep, I’m an Exhibitionist

I was the shy kid.

So shy, my classmates would ask me if I knew how to talk. One of the few things they’d hear me say: YES. With as much of an attitude I could muster at the time.

My early masturbation experiences were anxiety provoking. My room was right next to my parents’ and I slept with my bedroom door open. Starting around age 9, I’d masturbate before I went to sleep. Of course, I didn’t call it masturbation… it was just this thing I discovered. It felt good and helped me fall asleep.

But I was always nervous my parents would walk by. I’d hear creaks on the steps and freeze – if I didn’t move, they’d never know.

In middle and high school, I experienced what seemed like overwhelming sexual feelings. I felt like I had to hide it. Nobody else seemed to have these feelings – none of my friends ever talked about it – so I thought I was the only one. I knew people liked sex, but what I felt was so… MUCH. If everyone felt what I did, they’d clearly be talking about it – that was my logic.

I developed a generalized paranoia about being watched. I imagined what it’d be like if there were hidden cameras in every room of my parents’ house. I wondered if God could see my every move, and whether I was doing things I wasn’t supposed to. I was raised as a secular Jew, not religious, but God seemed this being that could know my dirty little secrets. Even if I didn’t tell anyone else. I’d go about my daily business watching myself as if my life were a movie – trying to catch myself revealing too much. I was already shy but became even more internal.

I started being sexual with others around age 14. Shortly after I went on antidepressants. That put a damper on things, though not completely. Having what I saw as weird perverted fantasies heightened my shame. I’d go through periods of trying not to masturbate – if I didn’t indulge it, maybe it’d go away. It always came back.

With guys I often felt frozen. I’d just go along with whatever they wanted, far too anxious to say what I wanted. At that point, I was so disassociated from my sexuality that I didn’t usually know what I wanted anyway. Much of it felt blah. Over time I started resenting the guys who’d get so much pleasure from my body, while I laid there sometimes just waiting for it to be over. Not to say it was always bad, but good sex just “happened.” I never knew how to make it happen, so I’d wait hoping the next time would be what I wanted. Maybe a 1/3 or 1/4 shot.

But what was always exciting was sex in random places. I was usually more bold than the guys I dated. Public sex was one of the few acts I’d initiate. Giving a boyfriend a handjob in class (not to orgasm, of course), fucking in my car in the parking garage, in music practice rooms or offices at school…

Physically, it was still hit or miss (mostly miss). But having sex where I wasn’t supposed to was exciting. I felt alive. The anxiety of being caught was intertwined with my arousal.

So in retrospect, its no surprise that porn appeals to me. As I become more comfortable with my own sexuality, I’m moving away from “performing” what’s requested to simply “doing.” Or “being.” Capturing on film my and my co-stars’ authentic responses. The situations may be contrived, I see it as roleplaying. But our reactions are becoming more and more real.

After webcamming for several months in the typical way girls do – one-on-one private shows for paying customers – I got absolutely sick of it. Not only am I not really into other men, the situation was too forced. I’m not going to have a really enjoyable orgasm in 5 or 10 or 15 minutes, unless I’m sporadically horny in my everyday life. I didn’t like the pressure of someone telling me what they wanted to see. I just wanted to be me.

Tonight was my first voyeur webcam show. Of many more to come, which will soon be free to members of my website. I simply set up my webcam and went about my own business. I was aware the cam was on and felt a small surge of anxiety with being seen – similar to fucking Terry in a swinger’s club. Only I’m alone. Just me. Doing me. Literally.

Being seen doing things I once felt deeply ashamed for feels liberating. Intellectually, I know masturbation is fine, there are no right or wrong fantasies, and any way someone enjoys touching themselves is okay so long as they don’t harm another living being. Yet my sexual response is still tied to anxiety – as if in such a high level of anxiety is a space of calm.

I believe my exhibitionism is similar to people who enjoy extreme sports. Terry, for instance, used to race cars and still likes driving really really fast when no one’s around. He describes the feeling as so intense he has no choice but to be present. To watch his every move, knowing that losing control could mean losing life.

Granted, I won’t die from being watched having sex. But as a kid the fear felt like I would. That response is deeply embedded. But its no longer a problem. Its an opportunity for me to display authentic sexuality to people who are accustomed to seeing over-stylized performances in much of mainstream porn. Or just as bad, romantic movies.

I believe if we saw “real” sex in whatever form it comes, we’d all be better lovers. Myself included. I learn a ton from the women I fuck. If I never entered the adult industry, I’d have no idea just how different every person’s sexuality is. Performing fetish videos and experiencing sexuality with my co-stars has helped me become comfortable with my own weirdness. Which sometimes can be pretty “normal.”

And thus, I’m ready to “come out” with it in a much bigger way. There will always be fantasies I keep to myself, acts I share with Terry I won’t do on camera. I still need a space of privacy and intimacy. But I choose to put a portion of my sexuality in the open, not only because I enjoy it but to show others there are more options for expressing ourselves than we’ve been taught. That the way women get off is diverse, even within ONE woman. That sex IS not anything in particular except that which feels good.

I didn’t choose exhibitionism, but I wouldn’t change it. I’m thankful for my sexuality. And I’m thankful for this lifestyle.

Related posts:

1. What does it mean to be an exhibitionist fetish model?

Posted: February 6th, 2013 under Fetish.
Tags: anxiety, exhibitionism, masturbation, sex work, shame, webcam

Comments