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I Never Knew I Was a Sex Addict
This Christmas, my gift was a diagnosis as a sex addict. Now that I know I’m a sex addict, I think about sex addiction differently. Although sexuality is among my favorite interests, I never thought about myself as a sex addict prior to the diagnosis.
On December 21 of 2017, I received my first diagnosis as a sex addict. For the past few therapy visits, I was telling my therapist about how I was actively meeting people on Fetlife for kinky fun. She also knows that I am polyamorous, involved in the kink community online, and looking at porn on a daily basis. Although I have both a boyfriend and a girlfriend, I was also having Skype encounters online (with their consent, of course). At one point, I had 3 online daddies, 2 of which I expressed a desire to get rid of and one of which I had sex with in a motel on our second meeting. While nothing went especially wrong during the motel encounter, I didn’t feel a true spark or sense any chemistry between this daddy and I,so I broke it off with him.
I always saw my interest in sexuality as healthy and conducive to my well-being. I have a healthy sex life with my boyfriend, but we definitely don’t have sex all the time. Sexuality is about more than orgasms to me, too, so it’s not like I’m masturbating multiple times a day. It was when I told her I had been on a date that my therapist brought up the idea of sex addiction.
“Wait a minute,” my therapist said. “I thought you were trying to reduce the amount of people you were seeing.”
“I know,” I said. “But this one seemed like he would be interesting to meet.”
The date didn’t involve any sex, but it did involve fetish play. My date was a feeder, a daddy, and a stoner. I am mildly curious about feederism (a fetish for eating and gaining weight), so I was intrigued to go on a date with him. After we each smoked a joint to our faces, he fed me a bunch of Taco Bell and then worshiped my belly by rubbing it and kissing it all around.
“Don’t you think you go through a lot of partners?”
I explained that I didn’t feel a spark with the people I was meeting.
“So you meet up with them, do your thing, and then leave if there’s nothing there?” she asked, then continued, “Because sex addicts do the same thing.”
Before my diagnosis, I thought sex addicts were impulsive, reckless, and masculine. I thought that sex addicts weren’t looking for another element of a relationship, even if that relationship was based on sex to begin with. You see, I prefer to have chemistry and at least a friendship with the people I’m fucking.
My sex addiction hasn’t put me in any danger except for at one point in my life. Back in 2009 or 2010, when I was a freshman in college, I used to have casual encounters with people on craigslist. You see, nobody wanted to fuck the fat girl, so I sought to have my needs fulfilled elsewhere. I hooked up with all kinds of randoms I met on Craigslist. Once, I even met up with a guy who didn’t show me a picture. Much to my surprise, he wound up being a good-looking, long-haired hippie guy with a beard who smoked me up on weed before I gave him head.
In the age of Tinder and OkCupid, people don’t think twice about meeting people online. But back then, it was taboo. When my peers found out I was trying to meet people (especially older men) online, they made fun of me and slut-shamed me. They told me I was desperate and disgusting for seeking sex with people I met online. They laughed behind my back and called me a slut. Because of their teasing, I even kept the fact that my first boyfriend was from an online relationship a total secret (sometimes even lying about it) until last year.
My sex addiction got me thrown out of a hospital. I was staying in an in-patient facility with a SHARP skinhead. (Skinheads Against Racial Prejudice) I thought we really connected well, just as I did with another guy he was friends with. Both of them were heavily interested in me, so at some point, I suggested a threesome. Somehow, the people at the hospital found out, because when my dad called the hospital to see if they would take me again, they told me they wouldn’t take me again because “she was trying to have threesomes with the patients.” The skinhead was a squatter, so despite that we exchanged numbers, he never called me. When I called the number he gave me, it turns out it was his mother’s number.
For me, sex is a source of pleasure, comfort, and validation. Posting nudes on Fetlife gave me a sense of validation when other people “loved” my photos. Meeting up with people online expanded my social circle and got me out of the house. I wasn’t having unprotected sex with anyone, including my long-term partners. And still, I am a sex addict.
I’m still coming to terms with my diagnosis. I’m a very sexual person and I think that will always be the case. Between my lovers, I have enough outlets for my sexuality to express itself in a safe, healthy matter. I’ve never imposed my sexuality upon anyone who was unwilling to participate. The most dangerous things I’ve done with sex were meet up with strangers to hook up with. Now, I show much more precaution and prefer to get to know people before getting sexual with them. I’m still coming to terms with my identity as a sex addict. Perhaps I never will, but at least I’m not hurting anyone.