Poll: Sex, a need or a want?

[hunter]

59. It's complicated, not binary.

People who don't want or need sex, no problem. Some people have no strong sex drive.

People who supress their own sexual desires, good or bad, it depends on where they divert that energy. Unfortunately, it's frequently a bad place, but some people do manage to make it good as artists, humanitarians, protectors of animals, the natural world, and the like.

People whose sexual desires are repressed by self and society, that's sad, and very often bad. Think of any number of "conservative" politicians and preachers who have self-destructed.

The only people who ought to be restricted from acting on their sexual desires are those who have crossed the line and preyed upon children and non-consenting adults. People like that need to be removed from ordinary society, locked away in some humane prison where they can't harm the rest of us. But unless they've crossed that line, some sort of help ought to be available to them, to keep them out of trouble and to channel that dark energy into something positive.

I had this weird sad memory resurface in my mind a few nights ago, which often happens to me. Off-my-meds I'll obsess about such things until I'm a sleepless wreck. But I'm on meds and simply thought "that's interesting" and went back to sleep.

Anyways, I had an English major friend in college, he's married now with kids, who'd wanted me to listen to some poetry he'd written "for his girlfriend."

It was pretty damned hot and erotic.

Shortly after (this being the incident I'd remembered decades later in the middle of the night) he'd hit on me while we were both taking a piss in a public restroom. Not erotic to me in any way, I wasn't going to have sex with anyone in a public restroom no matter how gifted a poet they were, especially him. But I'd recalled I was very kind rejecting his advances. His poetry was good. I haven't recognized any of his poetry since. If he's still writing it's deeply in the closet.

That's what I mean by sad.

A distant memory from me resurfacing. Just a sigh.

Myself, I've very lightly fictionalized (names changed to protect both the innocent and the guilty) most worst of my PTSD inducing experiences, sometimes here on DU.

This was not one of those experiences.

I try not to be my mom. Her parents were both west coast shipyard workers in World War II. Her "daycare providers" were hookers by night. Her mom was a second shift dancer and party girl. When my mom gets a little tipsy and starts telling stories it's best to hide. My mom's mom was insane. Her only comprehension of this world was hot metal, horny sailors, and difficult horses and dogs. But she did protect the children, even me, my siblings, and my mom, in her own peculiar manner.