How to Be Shamelessly Sexy 🫦

Introduction My mission is to help the world be shamelessly sexy. To me, that means not feeling ashamed about who you are or the type of sex you want to have. It means going after the things that you want in bed and in life. Being shamelessly sexy looks different for everyone. It’s something you need to define for yourself on your own terms. Also, no one can ever be perfectly shamelessly sexy. That’s because shame is a normal human emotion that will continue to crop up in life. But being perfect is not the point, people! Not feeling shame is not the point, either. This is about self-discovery. It’s about living your own life that is pleasurable and “totally rad,” as the surfer dudes say. It’s about feeling aligned with yourself and courageous enough to pursue what you want. I may be more shamelessly sexy now, but I wasn’t always this way. I grew up in London, where I was trained at all-girls private schools to be a prim and proper young lady. The red shoes of my school uniform were always perfectly polished. As I failed to color inside the lines in my lessons, I developed a dangerous curiosity. One day, I secretly came across what one might call a “spicy book” or “smut” in my school library. Heavens! When I read it, I felt excited. It was a beacon, an acknowledgment from the adult world: “There are other horny teenagers just like you out there. In fact, being a horny teenager is normal. All those boring adults? Well, they were once one, too.” That day, my perspective on sexuality changed. That smut book opened my mind to the possibility that sex and lovemaking are some of the most beautiful things in the world, even if nobody overtly champions them. I still believe that it’s one of life’s greatest joys to love another person fully, honestly, and vulnerably. And yet, this is totally hidden in our culture, which makes us feel guilty for simply enjoying ourselves. To this day, that doesn’t make sense to me. I’ve come to wonder whether there is a screw missing in my brain or if it’s that I simply transcended the confines of the world I grew up in all those years ago when I read that smut book in the library. Now, I try to help others do the same: to love ourselves and our partners openly in our own unique, beautiful, and messy ways. This piece is for heterosexual-leaning females because that’s my experience. Men experience shame differently, and I’ll address that in another piece. So, let’s dive into how we can get you there! Defining Shame About Sex In my article, “How To Be Shameless,” I shared Brené Brown’s definition of shame: “Shame is an epidemic in our culture” that is “highly correlated with addiction, depression, violence, aggression, bullying, suicide, eating disorders." She shares that "[f]or women, shame is: do it all, do it perfectly, and never let them see you sweat.” Here’s an example of this in my friend Emily's day-to-day life. Emily is fresh out of a relationship, and she wants to feel good about her body. Last week, we identified where her ideas about her body and her sexuality are coming from. * Feminine conservatism from her mother: Emily’s mother is Catholic. For her whole life, Emily’s mother wanted her to cover her shoulders and wear longer, feminine dresses, especially when they went to her grandmother’s house for Sunday brunch. * Bikini bodies from Instagram: Emily saw a beautiful woman wearing a bikini on Instagram, so she ordered one. It has a G-string bottom that Emily is a bit nervous about trying, but since she lives by the beach, she wants to give it a go. * Pressure from her ex: When Emily was 18, she dated a guy who was 23, and he was more sexually experienced than her. He made her feel guilty that she had never had a threesome and that she didn’t want to watch porn with him. In his eyes, she was never sexually experienced enough. * Social Comparison: With her last boyfriend, Emily noticed when they passed other girls on the beach who were prettier than her. Those girls were tanned and wore the G-string bikinis like it was nobody’s business. Emily knew that comparison was the thief of joy, but she still wondered if her boyfriend wanted to be with someone prettier. Emily’s experiences mirror exactly how Brené Brown described shame in women: “unobtainable, conflicting, competing expectations about who we are supposed to be.” Still, Emily’s situation confused me. If her sexuality and her feelings about her own body weren’t these messages from others, then what were they? This was something far deeper than her mother’s conservatism or her ex pressuring her to have sex. Perhaps this was something internal. Perhaps this was something to do with her “self,” and that required an energetic, internal transformation. We agreed that it sounded woo-woo, but her feelings about her sexuality and her body are a form of energy that she embodies. Being Shamelessly Sexy Emily and I agreed that being shamelessly sexy comes down to three fundamental things: knowing what you want, believing you deserve what you want, and asking for it. There’s a lot to say here, so I’ll address the tips for each of them separately. Know What You Want “If the desert is holy, it is because it is a forgotten place that allows us to remember the sacred. Perhaps that is why every pilgrimage to the desert is a pilgrimage to the self.” (Terry Tempest Williams). I could probably write a whole book with tips on how to help you figure out what you want in your sex life. I don’t claim to be a witch or a genius, so I’ll share what’s helped me so far. * Work On Your Shame. As I explored previously, facing your shame can help you change your perspective and let go of the past. So, pull up a shameful memory or two from your past that involves your body or having sex. Try not to pick something too overwhelming to begin with. You might need to repeat this exercise multiple times if you have various memories bringing you shame about sex in your past. For this exercise, I picked Valentine’s Day with my high school boyfriend when I was 17 when my younger sister walked in on us trying to have a romantic bath together, and my dad found out and gave me the awkward sex talk. It was terrible. Hold your experience in your mind’s eye. Remember as many details as you can about the situation. Notice what you feel. Do you feel any physical sensations in your body, your chest, or your throat? Where are you holding the shame in your body? Now, turn toward your younger self with compassion. Acknowledge the pain of the experience. Find a loving gesture you can give yourself for comfort. For this experience, I held my hand and told myself, “Taking a bath is a rather wonderful thing to do with someone. That experience was cruel. You didn’t deserve that.” If you don’t want to hold your hand, you could also hug yourself, squeeze your arm, or put your hand on your heart. Think of what a loving parent or a kind adult would say to your younger self now. What does your younger self need to hear? It could be something like, “Experiencing shame is part of life. You’re not alone. You made a mistake. That doesn’t mean you are a mistake. I forgive you.” The more you can give yourself love and acceptance, the less shame you’ll eventually feel about that experience. It is totally okay if you cry or feel a big wash of emotion. That’s a good sign that you’re processing pain and grief. You can listen to my Misseducated interview with Dr. Kristin Neff, the world's leading expert on self-compassion, here: “How to Be Kind to Yourself, and Why It Matters.” * Keep a sex diary or journal. Writing helps to make what we know subconsciously about ourselves conscious. For three years, I’ve written about my sex life on my blog, Misseducated. Exploring my experiences in pieces like “Why I Never Swallow Cum” has had an incredible benefit that I didn’t expect: it has helped me figure out what I like in bed. Writing about your sex life can help you figure out what you want to explore and where your limitations are. You can also learn the exact… Get full access to Misseducated by Tash Doherty at misseducated.tashdoherty.com/subscribe