sex talk

I told my counselor (I used “therapist” in a recent post before I remembered I don’t aspire to write chick-lit) that I wanted to be more open about sex-y stuff. I may have been raving though, imagining throwing discreteness to the wind like I wanted to get everyone’s attention at the party and then vomit all of my chaos onto the dance floor.

He kinda shook his head. He grabbed a white board (these people draw A LOT—who knew psychology was so spatial?). Three concentric circles later, he was explaining to me that some stuff you share with only the small, inner circle, other stuff with the middle circle, and even less with the biggest circle.

It didn’t feel like the right time to say, “But Anne Lamott says...”

All in all, I think he wanted me to intellectualize it, psychologize it—but I just kept thinking, "That's your job."

His cross-examination made me a little more hopeful, though—like he’s on to something: these things get better when they’re talked through soberly and with insight. Jokes are there, but only to grease the wheels, not to divert attention. This, IMHO, is more of what churches and Christian schools like mine need: sex to be talked about in a way that’s honest and captivating without being ridiculously solemn or too wink-wink silly. It should be talked about the way it's actually lived--in all its complicated facets.

So I’ve put my brain to the task, coming up with some more to say for my next session. I’d tell you, but I just can’t be sure that you’re in the smallest circle.