Sexy and Sick

So, the reason that I fell IN LOVE with sex therapy and the concept thereof, was my passion for working with people who are HIV + and their partners.  In college, I watched an amazing film on serodiscordant couples and thought "If I could do anything for forever, working with these couples would be it."  I was passionate about HIV advocacy, as a die-hard Freddie Mercury fan and a niece of an HIV + person, who had been living with HIV since the early 1990s.  My love with working with HIV + populations took a fantastic turn when I worked with positive people in North Philadelphia for my first internship in graduate school.  After running a group for positive individuals focused on sexuality, sexual health, and sexual risks, I couldn't stand how much I LOVED working HIV and sexuality.

So, I started talking about how sex is affected by illness, specifically HIV.  My obsession with HIV in relationships became just that, and I couldn't listen enough to stories of pain, suffering, care-giving, and heart break.  Whether they were infected by a lover who didn't tell them, or whether they modified their entire sexual practice to protect others, or whether they blatantly disregarded their status and continued unsafe sexual relationships, I couldn't get enough.  This multilayered relationship of love, illness, trust, and pain was so rich with intrigue.

Now, I face a similar struggle in my personal life.  Although not HIV, as I personally may be facing a chronic illness, my head spins with scenarios and deception and suffering.  Do I want my partner to be my care-giver for the rest of my life?  How do I struggle through the burden of feeling like a burden to all those around me? How can I choose to be intimate with my partner, when my vulnerability to him may become an essential part of my survival.

But, I digress.

The real reason I write this post is not about care-giving and illness and its effect on relationships (although this will be a topic for discussion, I'm sure).  My real motivation is how to feel sexy and how to be sexual when you are facing illness.

How did my couples deal with illness and fears of death, and still be sexual?  How did they find a way to face fear of transmission and still be physically intimate with one another?  The question is one that is seeped in heartache.

As I go through the motions of testing, and waiting, and thinking, and praying, I don't feel terribly sexy.  I don't want to be sexual.  I don't want to fulfill this historic desire, that had, previously, been a necessity.  Because, now, it is no longer a need, or a want, or a desire.  It is a death sentence.

And that, right there is why HIV discordant couples blow my mind.  Sex, for many, is what caused illness, and is still an essential part of life (because sex always is), so how do you get through it, and find sex sexy again and not just scary?

For me, not knowing if I have, or will have, cancer is overwhelming.  I work three jobs, often 12 to 14 hour days, to keep from thinking about it.  And, the fact that I could have cancer because I had sex (yep, we're talking cervical), makes me not want to have sex anymore.  It makes me feel diseased, and utterly unsexy and attractive.  When I get cat-called on the street (which will be yet another post for a later day), I think to myself, "he has no idea that I could be festering with disease."  Because you can't tell from looking at me that I could be sick, just like most people.

Suddenly, this has become not about my clients and all about me.  Apologies.  But I feel it's relevant.

I remember sitting across from positive people and hearing them talk about their sex life and their concept of their sexual self as it had changed since their diagnosis and feeling this emotion in my heart of hearts; identifying so strongly with their experience that it was as if I experienced it myself.  And now I do.  Kind of.

So, the question remains, how do you bring sexy back when you're sick?  And when your sick comes from sex?

I'm not quite sure.  I know that a lot of different things have worked for different clients.  Some, stop having sex with others all together.  Some find love that works around their illness and continue to trust and love even with health concerns.  Others, completely ignore their illness and stuff it down and forget about it (but it's always there).

It might be a grieving process.  Right now, I'm depressed.  I have been angry, I have denied, I have bargained (mostly with my insurance company).  But I haven't yet accepted.  And maybe that's where I need to end up, although that's a process itself.  But sex can't be sexy without acceptance of all aspects of self.  Even illness.  Or perceived illness.

So, next steps are acceptance.

In the thick of this fear of diagnosis, I wait.  And I dread.  And I hope.  But I must accept.  That may come with confirmation of testing.  That may come with knowing I have a loving, supportive, wonderful partner, family, and friends who have supported me through this and will continue to do so regardless of results.

I hope that sexy comes back soon.  It may not.  I may need a physical break from sex to bring back self-esteem and self-concept.

As I process this (via this post), I find acceptance as my only option to sexy coming back.  And that can only come with time.