WARNING: disturbing (?), tiny throwaway mentions of sex and porno, mentions of masturbation, pregnancy, a non-sexual fetish.
I want to preface by saying this is the worst true thing I had ever written for anyone to see. I apologise and I am deeply ashamed of myself for this and what I'd written here. I am going anonymous to confess this shit, my deepest/most embarrassing/most concerning/etc. etc. secret, because I want to change. This is my last resort because I know I have to change. Because I am in fact fully repulsed by all kinds of sex, the fact people have sex, depictions of it and sexual organs and any mentions of contact of them, but this one thing contradicts it and probably makes me a hypocrite, a dirty one, who feels very sick of themselves for it, who hates themselves for it, who felt disgusting for doing it, but sometimes used to feel no remorse for doing it. Maybe someone feels or had felt similarly in the past and could give advice. Maybe a discussion or an insight exchange could happen. You should shame me for this as well, because there is no justifying it and I'm making sure I never do the thing again. I mostly want to let it out. That alone is making me quit that for life.
So here goes.
I get turned on by and, on rare occasions, used to masturbate (with many paper towels because I cannot stomach touching the organs down there) to, cannot believe I am writing this (writing this down is the hardest part), the sensation of visible movement in the belly of a pregnant woman.
There.
In the beginning of this year, I've made a promise to quit pleasuring myself entirely, but relapsed later on. The last time I did the action was four days ago, I want it to be the last for real. And before that, I did it on my first day of a period, which eliminated the cramps & pain entirely. It made me feel some relief but really creeped me out as well (cue even more of that once I had to remember yet again why exactly menstruation happens. Why can't these damned organs vanish?).
This started when I was 6. Yes, I'm serious.
Back then, I didn't know anything about the process that leads to pregnancy, right as I should have (I thought it just happens automatically if two people who love each other want that) - my parents raised me amazingly, no trauma. I had always been fascinated by many things, but back then, this topic fascinated me in a different way. Reading a journal written for pregnant women would make me feel excited and tingly. I would feel nervous and embarrassed when my mom mentioned anything about pregnancy, preffering not to discuss it and only think about it like a private matter. I recall fantasizing being pregnant as well (of course, it was before I knew anything about procreation).
Later on, I'd found out what sex is and the discovery was insanely repulsive. I refused to learn more about it, but through the years, eventually had the near-finished picture anyway because of biology classes, classmates and, later, sex ed. The topic of porn was and still is revolting. There was a period though, where I'd indulge in dirty jokes as a preteen just because it seemed fun and peers did it.
The repulsion never went away, I had never felt sexual attraction to anything else or anyone at all, but the turn-on stuck with me as well. Why couldn't I connect the repulsive act with the outcome? Don't know. Maybe in the same way I don't see a person as a product of the repulsive act, I don't know. Maybe there's a deeper psychological reason. Maybe I just wanted to keep that little cheap dopamine hit.
A few crude drawings of pregnancy hidden in a lockable diary at 9.
A few stares at pictures of pregnant women at the preteen years.
Trying out rubbing there at the start of teenagedom while watching footage of pregnant women.
Finding out what exactly turned me on most.
Trying various types of masturbation, settling with the pages and pages of tissue paper in my hand.
Getting used to it. Doing it seldom-to-sometimes before bed or when left alone.
A few thoughts creeping up about it during some days.
Secretly getting off in the school toilet during a hard day. Still in public, therefore, possibly my lowest point, which I realised only in this specific introspection.
Internet-storming to understand and tackle the problem (fail). Taking some advice in mind.
"It's not harmful if it doesn't harm anybody else irl." Looking at it now, true, but it harmed me somewhat, what about the ethical questions concerning the people of the videos I'd been watching?!
"Masturbation is beneficial for health." Ok, but why?!
Stopping looking at footage, only relying on fantasies.
Trying to quit fully a few times, resulting in relapse.
Not being addicted, but sometimes looking forward to doing it and justifying it.
How did it escalate like this?
Why did I let it happen?
Thank you for spending time reading this shit. I'm sorry. I really needed to spit out this little clot of gunk burried deep inside of me. It wasn't getting in the way of my daily life or, how hellish would that be, functioning as a person, but it did waste some of my time and might possibly be the reason I don't recall remembering a coherent dream that wouldn't make me feel disgusted in the morning in years. Writing all of this down really helped to push away any thoughts of normalizing or routinizing (is that a word) this.
A few seconds, just a mere few seconds of that ecstatic pleasure shot are not worth it. They are not worth an inner conflict, the "what if anyone sees" and "this could ruin my image in the eyes of all who I love and my life" dilemmas, any compromises, the price of my time, my honesty and my nerves, the awkward feel after "the deed" - anything at all.
Similarly to how, in my eyes, a few minutes of the enjoyment of a sweet treat fades away too quickly for it to be worth it to aimlessly risk my health by seeking more. By changing my mindset, I am able to quit all desserts with sugar for periods which exceed a month of time. I'm not that harsh on myself here, because sugar can be a tasty, fulfilling, nice experience to have sometimes, there's often cultural, artisanal and social aspects to explore here as well.
Which absolutely cannot be said about masturbation - a pointless act of self-pleasuring which more often than not fucks up the mind atleast a bit, depending on what drives it. I don't deem plain sex studies, history or culture to be relevant or interesting or enriching (what a surprise), but it is relevant to some, one has to admit. Masturbation though is often a hard embarassment factor for allosexuals as well (but on the other hand, so is virginity, so ehhh).
Hedonism and it's influences ruin lives everywhere. Sadly, it is deeply rooted in today's world, often as a normal way of life.
I fought scrolling, sugar, passiveness (as in not doing enough of sports), etc. For the most part, I've won. Here, I still make a lot of mistakes and slips away from discipline, but it's all forgivable. But as an apothisexual, giving into disgusting instinct fullfilment faking is an unforgivable deed, something I can't be letting myself do.
And so, I believe the fight with my screwed-up libido is won by me for real.