A Wish List for Santa at the End of a Not-So-Sexy Year
By: Yael Wolfe
Tags: Relationships, Sexuality, Love, Sex, Howl By Yael Wolfe

Howl: A Holiday Edition

A Wish List for Santa at the End of a Not-So-Sexy Year

You got anything in that bag for me?

Photo by Alicia Slough on Unsplash

Dear Santa,

This year was tough. I thought I would be okay today — I worked so hard to plan a situation in which I wouldn’t be alone. But it’s still hard.

And the people I’m not with are disappointed.

And the shift in my quarantine schedule I’m about to make is causing other people to feel disappointed.

And a couple of my friends are facing horrific hardships right now, which is breaking my heart.

And people are busy or dealing with their own struggles and families right now and I have no one to lean on.

And I didn’t have sex with anyone but myself this year.

And I’m tired.

Am I too old to leave this note by the tree? A list of things I hope you’ll leave for me? I really need a pleasant surprise right now.

Constancy

What I wouldn’t give for this. Maybe it’s asking for too much. I always had a roof over my head. I always knew there would be food on the table. But emotional constancy has been elusive in my life.

I never knew what my mom’s mood would be. I never predicted a single one of the head-on collisions with my sister that I’ve experienced. My cousin/best friend got bored with me and ran off at the most surprising moments.

And men…even if they stuck around for years, they always existed in their own little bubble, untouchable unless we were having sex. Always with one foot out the door.

I know I’ve gotten to the point where maybe I have one foot out the door, but I keep hoping that maybe there is someone out there who is different. Though so often, when I let down my guard…they disappear.

I long for a male presence in my life that is maybe romantic and/or sexual, though not necessarily in a traditional sense…and that is constant. (Well, semi-constant, because nothing is perfect.) Someone who is always there to reach out, hold my hand, put his arms around me.

Someone I can rely on and not always be wondering when he’ll pull away or disappear entirely.

Adventure

I guess I should probably add “courage” to this list, above this entry, but oh well. I skipped to the fun stuff. I want a little adventure, please. And companioned adventure would be nice. I’m tired of doing everything alone.

I guess a big part of the point of this one is sexual adventure, so you know…the companion is kinda essential. Not that I’m not having a grand old time by myself, but still… A woman like me really needs a bit more variety in the bedroom.

When I think of my last relationship, though I was relatively happy with the sex life we had, it was pretty rote. My ex knew exactly how to get me off and our encounters, in the moments leading up to my orgasms, felt incredibly scripted over the years. I had so much fun the few times I insisted we try new things, even though he didn’t like that, because he knew it would take longer for me to get off.

It’s not that he didn’t love experimenting. He would spend twenty or more minutes bending me into all kinds of different positions in order to explore his own pleasure — but only after I’d had a couple orgasms and was “done.” He didn’t want to have to worry about pleasing me when he was exploring.

I didn’t think much of it at the time, but when I look back, I find the whole thing a little odd. Like our sex life was half for me, then half for him — never for us, never for our pleasure, experienced mutually. Never to explore our need for sexual adventure — just his, and very occasionally, mine.

I want something different now. Collaboration in adventure. Someone who asks me, “What do you want to try tonight?”

Grace

Sometimes, I think this is the one thing I’m most starving for in my life. I’m the oldest child in my family and I always had to be the example. I always had to hit the highest standards. I always had to do everything right.

And that’s how I learned to be so hard on myself.

I don’t feel like it’s easy for others to forgive me for being human. And I definitely cannot forgive myself for my human foibles.

My partners were as hard on me as my parents were. I was never good enough. Never skinny enough or hairless enough or feminine enough. Never sexy enough, never easy enough, never quiet enough.

What I wouldn’t give to have a male partner defend my humanness with a protective bubble of his grace. To shrug off my overreaction, to laugh dismissively at a harmless mistake I made, to have no expectations of how I should look or behave as a woman. I’m so hungry for that.

Joy

I haven’t felt joy in love or sex in ten years. Instead, there has been heartache and disappointment. Even for as much work I’ve done on myself, I still feel like my heart is hidden away in a steel box, bound in tangles of barbed wire.

I keep trying to open the box, but each time I do, even the smallest of disappointments feels like it rips open all the old stitched-up wounds. And then I stuff that heart right back into the box and cut my fingers trying to rearrange the barbed wire around it.

I don’t remember what it feels like to be in love, heart soaring. I literally have no memory of that, it’s been so long. I can soar on longing, for short flights, but that’s all I have anymore.

I don’t know if I’m capable of trusting someone enough to actually fall in love, to be so enraptured that joy lifts me off the ground…but I think I would like to feel that way again.

Assuming something that huge could fit into your bag.