The Sex Lives of English Women

by Wendy Jones

  The biggest issue is the people you live with. What came first was this sexuality with a teacher. It was a crush on a Buddhist teacher, and he was showing me pornography. On the Internet. All sorts, everything. There was nothing violent; well, I think most pornography is violent. He was doing it because that was what he was doing at the time. Things progress, don’t they? You start watching funny clips on YouTube and then … I wasn’t cut off from the world. And he was very chauvinist. So it wasn’t a very empowering experience of sexuality.

  Then I had images and I had a visual of porn stars, of women with shaved pubic hair and that was when I started to explore that. I shaved all my pubic hair off. As part of being a nun. And it felt very wrong; it was all very confusing. You don’t have to shave your pubic hair if you’re a nun – it was an exploration. It felt dirty, unlike my shaved head. I thought, why am I doing this? I’m a nun. There was this natural sexual awakening that was taking place but also a feeling of guilt and shame. In hindsight I can see it was all tied up with guilt and shame from childhood. At the time I thought, oh it’s because I’m a nun and that’s why I feel so guilty and shameful. I had thrush so I got a pessary and I remember feeling really guilty because I enjoyed that. Again that was a sexual awakening of sorts, a sensation of … I didn’t masturbate for the first six years of being a nun and then it got progressive. Theoretically nuns are not supposed to masturbate because it’s no sexual activity. But it’s also the lesser of two evils so if masturbation is what will give your ordained life longevity then do it. To begin with I didn’t even know how to masturbate, the physical action of what to do. Do I just touch myself? Do I stroke myself? Do I press?

  I was asked to be a team principal teacher, which is where you have overall responsibility for the whole centre. I had a job of responsibility and I had status although it wasn’t status in the conventional sense: I hadn’t become an executive driving a Ferrari. I was respected and had a good reputation and was very popular. That’s when it all imploded. And that was when I lost all my status.

  This is something I don’t talk about a lot, because that was when I got involved with, developed romantic feelings for, one of my friends, a male. I was absolutely convinced that I was dedicated to my path but then I met this person whom I connected with completely. It wasn’t the pure physical attraction; we connected on our vulnerability, on the deepest level. He was a Buddhist monk. It was my first experience because I hadn’t had any sexual experience, even before I got ordained. And it felt completely natural with him. And he was very tender. He was very sensitive as a sexual partner and also adventurous. And it was just effortless. It didn’t feel sordid in any way; it felt very much a friendship that almost overnight turned. We had our own individual rooms at the Buddhist Centre and where there’s a will there’s a way, isn’t there? It wasn’t like it was planned. Up to that point I was wary of touch apart from with young children – I mean that in a very clean way. I didn’t like people touching me. Yet with him I felt safe. It felt the most natural thing in the world. He was very experienced, and quite promiscuous before he became a monk. He was bisexual and he’d had a lot of varied experiences, and also there is that wild side in me, so it was very adventurous. We never actually had sex.

  This all happened in the space of a few weeks and no one knew about it. It never got as far as thinking of leaving and living together, it was very much in that moment. He confessed but carried on living his life as a monk. I confessed because I wanted to stay a nun. I wanted to be true, authentic. Oh, I was devastated when I broke the vow. It was a beautiful experience, but nevertheless it was devastating to me. I felt shame at my own arrogance – ‘I’m this spiritual person’ – and that was a short slap in the face! I felt a lot of guilt because I thought I’d disrespected the path I was on. The impact I’d had on his spiritual life – I carried all the guilt and responsibility for that. I’d let people down who’d had faith in me. That sense of, oh, my whole life has imploded. A whole cauldron. I was fighting for my ordination.

  I wasn’t asked to stop being a nun but they said, ‘Well, you can’t be a teacher any more. After going on retreat, if you still want to teach, then …’ I went into silent retreat for nine months. So I didn’t speak for nine months. It was in a retreat centre in Indonesia. That was a very profound experience. It taught me that life is life, no matter what the external is: even though I was in silence it was still me as a person living in a world. It was a different environment but it was still me. I did notice my thoughts slowing down and having a real clarity and sharpness. I got used to the silence although there was still that continual conversation in my head. I thought I would feel lonely but it was the least lonely I’d ever felt. It’s fascinating; the internal world is fascinating.

  But there was incredible pain involved. In the last three months I thought, ‘One possibility is I’m going to lose my mind completely! Just go insane.’ That wasn’t the case at all. But what did come up was all that emotion that had been pushed down from my childhood, and also from more recent years. I felt betrayed by my Buddhist centre because I had given up so much. I’d come from a wealthy background – I’m not saying it’s about money – I was privately educated, I was all set for a career in psychology and a good life, a so-called good life, and I’d willingly given all that up and I was seeing more flaws in what I’d handed my life over to. I suffered from eating disorders when I was a teenager, and those symptoms started coming back again so I was eating a lot and I got to the point where I was making myself throw up and that was when I decided to stop doing the retreat because I thought, ‘This is no longer good for me.’ I was told to go on retreat for a year and I had accepted that. But then I made the decision, wisely or otherwise, to stop.

  I moved back into a Buddhist centre and I got very ill and was in bed for a week: I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t drink, I couldn’t move. That was when I got memories of sexual abuse. I got back in contact with the monk – because he was the only person that I trusted. Even though I hadn’t spoken to him for two years he was completely there for me, as I knew he would be. When I went into retreat one of the conditions I placed was to have no contact with him; I had thought, let him get on with his life and me with mine.

  He was living in a flat in Wales. So I moved there, and I had no notion that I didn’t want to be a nun any more. Very quickly I had a breakdown that lasted a year and during that time the monk – his name is Andrew, he had a Buddhist name at the time – was there for me. He was there to listen, emotionally he was there, and also physically because I wasn’t eating so he was cooking. He was getting me out of bed and driving me to my counselling sessions. I was still ordained and he was still a monk. It was during this time we resumed some kind of sexual relationship. Again, it was the old cliché – it just happened! It was laden with guilt, mixed with pleasure. That was the first time I questioned the whole basis of my ordination: had it been simply a reaction to past sexual abuse?

  I had a fantastic counsellor; she helped me through it. I got back on my feet and was a lot stronger in myself. I even confronted my dad, who was the perpetrator. It was horrific. It was very painful. He denied it and he mocked me but it was also very liberating and empowering. The most painful side of it was my brother and my sister took my dad’s side. My mum went into denial. My middle sister supported me. I’ve got no relationship with my father – I don’t want anything to do with him.

  A year ago I decided not to be a nun any more. All in all I was a nun for twelve years. When I was moving out I had nothing: I had no savings, I had no career. To walk away from the centre was to also not have food and board. I was suddenly back in Leeds without anywhere to live. I was doing domestic cleaning as a job, I rented a flat and got a second job in a wholefood shop, and I’ve been doing that for the past year. Then before the summer my mum said, ‘I want to help you,’ so she bought a property in Leeds which I’ve just moved into.

  It’s a very gradual process of pulling away the layers of being a nun. In
credibly painful to leave and I still have times when I mourn that person and that life. This past year has been about me very openly exploring my womanhood. It took me two months after – we call it derobing – to register, ‘Oh, I can actually wear make-up now and more feminine clothes.’ It was the opposite of what I had been trying to be as a nun when I was always very modest and I tried not to be too sexual. Growing my hair has been a very courageous move on my part because I’m saying sexuality and sexual contact is now a definite possibility whereas before, at least theoretically, it was not – and I had a very valid reason – ‘Oh, I’m a nun! No!’ I feel like I’m going on my journey with my hair because we’re growing together. I went through a phase where I looked like a little fluffy chicken. It felt symbolic. I want to grow my hair really long and then decide what shape it takes. That’s something else I’ve had to get used to: allocating time to dry my hair.

  Andrew’s not going through a good time, he’s smoking a lot of pot and that’s consumed his life and he’s gone downhill. He decided he didn’t want to be a monk any more, separately and nothing to do with me. It’s been a very painful time in relation to Andrew because he’s done a lot of push-and-pull with my emotions. He’s broken my heart time and time again. Because he doesn’t have any romantic feelings for me but he continues to put himself in those situations with me and being so loving and nurturing and sensitive, yet saying, ‘But we’re just friends.’ We haven’t had much sexual contact for a year – ironically since neither of us are a monk or a nun. That was when our sex life stopped.

  Very strangely, I now wish we had had sex. We did everything, basically. We did come very close and then I stopped it. There’s a part of me that wishes I hadn’t let fear hold me back but then there’s another part of me that says, ‘Well, I had to honour myself too.’ Being sexual was so powerful for me, and such a turning point. I said that to Andrew: ‘You know, even though the circumstances were awful, each experience sexually I had with you was very healing.’ Because I had every reaction – I had ecstasy, I had guilt, shame, I had tears, I had sadness – and I was able to express all of that freely with him. The very fact that I was being sexual with someone was so healing.

  I fantasise now. Recently, since I’ve not been a nun, I bought a vibrator and I’ve used that a few times and I enjoy that. And with Andrew, even though we didn’t have sex, he would put his hand inside me, and that felt really nice and I really enjoyed that. But for a long time I had a big mental block about having anyone’s penis inside me, and that is because of the sexual abuse. It took months and months of being with Andrew to feel, ‘I would actually have sex with you,’ but at that point he was like, ‘I don’t feel that way about you.’ So that was quite heartbreaking. I’ve hidden from genuine experiences through having this half-fantasy, half-real relationship with him. It’s kept my emotions tied and my thoughts tied and been another way of creating a block to actually having that sexual experience.

  I know I’m a deeply sexual person, I use the word sexual in the broadest sense: I’m sensual, I’m passionate, I’m creative, I’m tactile, so there’s a lot in there to be exposed, but I feel it’s blocked. I’m only sexually active with myself. I masturbate most days, morning and evening, and that’s quite a lot and sounds like there’s something in me that needs to be expressed. I feel frustrated. I think, what is the point of having this incredible energy inside me that’s not being expressed in relation to others? It’s often fantasies that really get me going. A lot of times it’s me on top being in my full power. Sometimes the fantasies will be with a man, imagining a very sensual experience with him on top and me underneath and being completely taken over. Sometimes it’s two men having sex with me. I wish it was a reality, not a fantasy; it would just be great! How wonderful it would be. I do have this wild streak. I really enjoy giving blowjobs; often my fantasies start with that. Sometimes what really gets me going are fantasies involving other women or other women orgasming.

  I do feel curious to know what sex feels like. More than anything I want to get it out of the way. So it’s no longer a big deal. And I question, what is it in me that’s blocking it? It does feel like a big deal. My fantasy earlier on this year was, ‘I’m going to find a soul mate who I’ll have sex with.’ Now I think someone with whom there’s mutual respect; that will do me. Even if it’s a one-night stand, even if it’s a short-term fling, as long as for that moment in time there’s mutual respect. It doesn’t have to be a big romantic thing. Another deep insecurity I have is, where on earth am I going to find a sexual partner? Who is prepared to deal with the fact that I’m a thirty-five-year-old woman who hasn’t had sex, who’s got a traumatic background? I think, ‘Who wants to take that on?’ I know from male friends that they think, ‘Oh my God! That’s like someone’s world of fantasy!’ So there’s probably something in between that is healthy. I’d love to have a life partner to share the burden of responsibility. Someone to take care of me, and look after me. I really want to be a mother, to birth a child. I almost think I want a child so much that I don’t know if I’ll have one.

  I was very clear when I decided not to be a nun why I was doing it. I wanted to explore being a woman and to step into womanhood. As a young girl I always had incredible respect for women and I have this deep respect for women and what women can do. There is a real power in womanhood and in the feminine. There’s something very powerful about the womb itself and I’m reclaiming the innate power that is in every woman. I love men as well, I believe in equality and equal rights, so I’m not talking about raising women above men. Nevertheless, I felt like there is a real deep knowing and knowledge and strength in being a woman.’

  9

  Modern

  Lola, 23, Essex

  ‘I was trying to find the best phone app if you want casual sex’

  ‘My dad, he gets on my nerves. He’s very shouty. Indian men, they don’t think, they shout at you. He’s not like a cuddly dad. I’m telling you, we go for men that are like our father; that’s what I believe. My dad’s a bit – I’m going to say it straight – he’s a bit of an arsehole – he’s got arsehole-olic tendencies, so I don’t think I’ve had a positive start with men. My sister did a self-esteem course and this woman who runs it, she told my sister, ‘You go after men who are like your father. It’s something that we do. Sometimes you seek love from a source that you can’t get love from.’ You always fight for your dad’s love and that’s what you do with other men. Me and my sister were discussing why we’ve never had nice men in our life and maybe it’s down to our father, who knows? My sister and me, it wasn’t really in our destiny to have nice boyfriends, growing up.

  I’ve just finished university and I’m working in Selfridges at the weekend, and I live with my dad, who’s a warehouse operator, and my sister. Our mum died in 2008 when I was seventeen. I was quite vulnerable then in terms of guys, I was kind of taken advantage of once or twice. I’ve had sexual intimacy with a guy but I’ve never had a boyfriend. But I was sexually active when I was fifteen! On Blackberry Messenger there was this boy called Alan or something; I liked him. He was seventeen; I just lied about my age. I didn’t know him at all. I went to his house – he lived far away – and that’s the first time I had a kiss from a guy. Then he wanted to do more stuff and I was like, ‘No, I can’t, I don’t want to.’

  I went to his house again the following week and he showed me his penis. I thought we were going to have sex and he goes, ‘Oh, you’re too tight. You’re a virgin so I’m not going to do anything, but practise on yourself.’ So I practised on myself. I didn’t meet him again, I didn’t want to do it with him, I didn’t like him. He wasn’t very nice. He used to text me racist things like ‘Paki’.

  I never saw him again but I still wanted to do it, so there was this other guy, Marvin. He didn’t go to my school. He was someone I met on Blackberry Messenger. I’d heard stuff about him so I went to his house and lost my virginity when I was fifteen. I didn’t know him! I don’t know what was g
oing on: my mum had cancer at the time so maybe something happened there that turned on my brain. It was really good – the sex. It hurt at first, but it was really good. So my first time wasn’t bad. I’ve had intercourse twice since. Nothing has quite been the same as that.

  The next time – another random guy. This was a guy called Lee. I met him in a club – this was two years ago – and then we were texting and he was in the same club as me a month later. And I was really, really drunk so I ended up going back with him to the hotel room where he was staying. He worked in the hotel so he got a discount on the rooms. I was with Lee in the toilet, and his friend was in the next room waiting – and we were in the toilet having sex. It’s one of the trashiest things, I think. What happened was he took me to the toilet, I was against the wall and I think he was doing it up my bum. He goes, ‘I want to doggy you.’ I was too drunk to even say no. So I did that with him.

  I remember lying down with Lee afterwards. I really liked this guy, I didn’t know him that well – he was very good-looking. You know when you just look at someone? I started getting attached; I was staring at him. He was like, ‘Stop staring at me, stop staring.’ He knew women get attached. He was okay with me in the morning. He goes, ‘Do you want to go for a McDonald’s?’ I said, ‘I’m not hungry.’

  Then we met up again the following week, I don’t know why. He brought his friend along because his friend had nowhere to stay. I think they wanted a threesome. I started my period one hour before I was meant to meet him, so we couldn’t really have sex. I told him, and he wasn’t very happy about that! He goes, ‘Oh, that’s fine, you’re on your period, we can kiss all night.’ I left for the bathroom, then his friend came in the room and I overheard him telling his friend, ‘I’m really pissed off; she’s on her period. And that’s the one thing that really pisses me off.’ We were just watching music channels in the hotel room, his friend was on one bed and me and Lee were on the other bed. I remember kissing him, I gave him a blowjob, we talked, and then the next day we had breakfast and that was that.