The Madonna-whore and her back scratcher

I used to experience some feelings of shame during and after sex. It grew like mildew from a combination of growing up in a household where we never spoke of sex and therefore understanding nothing about my right to sexual pleasure, attending a school that taught me that sex was only about avoiding pregnancy and STIs and finding it hard to be comfortable with two seemingly opposing sides to my personality–the Madonna and the whore – both of whom, I might add, I have a strong affection for.

On the one hand, I am a doting mother to two beautiful young kids and I prioritise their wellbeing–I cuddle them, read to them, create nourishing meals for them and place hot water bottles at the end of their beds on bitterly cold nights. 

I love making my home a haven for others. I cook meals I know my partner will devour, and I have friends sit in the comfort of my beautifully lit lounge room and pour them negronis in crystal while they lament their latest dating disasters. I love romance and big dreams, and every Christmas, I watch Love Actually.

But I also love buying the kinkiest clothing and accessories and thigh-high boots to be worn in the bedroom. I love role play and dirty talk, being a tease and a brat, sending dirty messages, and taking sexy photos. I scour the internet for the best and most provocative erotic artists and designers, and I’ve published books of some hot and dirty erotica, as well as one dedicated to submissives.

I will make pikelets on a Saturday morning and then strut around naked in my lounge room that night wearing nothing but thigh-high boots, a thong, a pink leather choker and a mask.

And I love both sides of me.

And I’m in a relationship with someone who also loves both sides of me.

Huzzah!

But it was not always this way. It’s taken a long time for me to embrace all of me–particularly during kinky sex sessions– without that shame creeping in. And sometimes, I still feel it skimming, looming like a threat waiting for the smallest opening.

As I reflect on what it is that has made me much more accepting of all parts of myself (other than growing up and giving less fucks), it’s that I’ve learned acceptance. Sex often brings up feelings we’re unprepared for, but I’ve learnt not to hold onto those feelings and thoughts, never giving them the weight they yearn for.

And one technique for doing this has been focusing more on aftercare. Aftercare is the time after sex when we wind down with our partner. It’s the time we wrap ourselves in a big metaphorical hug.

Up until a few years ago, aftercare was more of a word than an action for me. I didn’t take it very seriously. And it probably wasn’t until I created a book with a 24/7 submissive that I really understood the power of aftercare. (aftercare is a very big deal in the BDSM community. Every BDSM scene ends in aftercare).

But aftercare allows us to sit with the uncomfortable and work through what we’re feeling, especially if we’re feeling any shame around the erotic experience we’ve just had. And I also must point out that aftercare is not just for negative feelings; it’s equally as important for coming down from a sexual high, too.

But here are some examples of the thoughts/feelings you might experience. They were thoughts and feelings I used to experience.

“Oh, that was hot, but I can’t believe I did that/said that.”

Or

“I know I told him/her to call me a dirty slut, but does he/she really think that about me?”

Or 

“I feel dirty/embarrassed/awkward. I wish I could take that back.”

For many of us, aftercare doesn’t feel so natural. We’re taught that the end goal of an orgasm is , well, the end. You’ve had your orgasm, you’ve peed, and now the velvet curtain comes thumping down, and it’s time to get up and get on with it. 

Very few of us are taught that time after orgasm is important for validation and reconnection, and we should create an intentional space to process our feelings. It doesn’t matter what you’re feeling; all of it is valid. The good, the bad, the ugly, the shame, the euphoria.

There are three key ingredients to this post-coital closeness: It's intentional, so set aside time for it; it's vocal, which means you ask each other how you feel; and it's non-sexual. And whatever form this activity takes is up to you. You need to figure out what you need; it may change over time. 

Some might want to take a hot bubbly bath; others may want to watch a Netflix comedy special or have a little dance party. My current go-to aftercare? Back scratching.

A few days before Christmas last year, I was walking past a newsagent and spotted a $5 back scratcher and I put it in my partner’s stocking at Christmas. It’s the dinkiest thing but it has five claws and it’s the right amount of sharp and soft edges.

I like to lay on my stomach and my partner goes all over my body with the back scratcher. It’s not one bit sexual (aftercare shouldn’t be sexual) but it feels amazing and it allows me to lay there and breathe and feel a release. It readies my body and my mind back into neutrality.

I would love to know if you have a favourite aftercare activity or if you’ve had feelings arise before, during or after sex and how you’ve dealt with them.

You can comment below, or if you have a question, don’t forget you can ask me by hitting the button below.

I’ll be doing my monthly answering of your questions next week, so feel free to get your questions in! Don’t be shy. Names won’t be published :)