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You Deserve to be a Sex God: My Path to a Moral Framework for Sexual Health Part I

A moral framework for sexual health helps guide behavior in a healthy way.  A man has to have a code, even a sexual one.  This simple framework is all you need to keep your sexual experiences on the up and up.  Part I: You Deserve to be a Sex God.  Part II: A Moral Framework for Sexual Health

Jack Murphy Live You Deserve to be a Sex God Part I

Human beings are one of the most sexualized animals on the planet.  Our focus on sex is one reason why we dominate the earth today.  We’re all built to seek sexual partners according to our various sexual strategies.  Men, seeking outlets for those millions of sperm and women looking for just the right man to fertilize one of their precious eggs.  Sex is everywhere all the time.

Sex’s importance and meaning to me changed over time.  In some periods of my life it was the absolute number one thing on my mind, in others it got demoted in favor of work or family.  In other times, its absence was all I could think about. 

I live a life of honest and open ethical non-monogamy, I’ve explored the areas of BDSM that interest me, and I’ve seen just about every scenario for a threesome.  I currently live a full-time Dom/sub relationship with a caring and adoring younger woman.  I’ve evolved over time with proactive energy and thoughtfulness.

During this evolution I discovered and adopted a moral framework to guide my decision making.  This framework also gave structure to my own understanding and self-discovery.  By asking questions of myself and being reflective, I’ve simultaneously established my moral environment and discovered my true sexual identity.  I’ve achieved my sexual nirvana in many ways.

Naturally, It wasn’t always like this. 

The Setting

Seven years ago, the lack of sex was devastating. I was in the final years of a sexless, loveless, joyless marriage steeped in blue pill thinking.  Sex was something I obsessed over, as I wasn’t getting any at all.  I felt ashamed for wanting sex from my wife.

The searing pain of my sexless marriage almost took me down completely. 

My ex-wife, the one woman who was supposed to be taking care of me, chipped away at my soul by rejecting me virtually every single day of our marriage, forcing me into other outlets. 

I sought out prostitutes.  I had anonymous sex with women from craigslist.  I had a random affair.  Mostly, I just masturbated a lot.  None of these helped, of course.  It merely allowed a release and reminded me just how bad things were.  Drug and alcohol abuse went with the isolation.  Things were bleak.

In marriage counseling, I attempted to do the “right thing” and throw myself at the mercy of the two women in the room: my soon to be ex wife and the 68 year old grandmother advising me on my sex life and marriage.  Instead, they teamed up to shame me for my sexual desires, which at the time were mostly vanilla.  I just wanted it from my wife.  Badly.  I took the risk and shared my desires in a supposed “safe space.”

My bravery was not rewarded.  I revealed how sex with my wife was how I felt intimacy and closeness with her.  How her touch and acceptance was essential to my well-being and health.  How all I wanted in the world was for my wife to want me: I just wanted to be loved.  It was pathetic and self-defeating.

They didn’t hear me through their bias, of course, and as I know now, this sort of frame was never going to get me what I wanted.  Predictably, they chastised me and reduced my existential yearning for human intimacy down to a visceral desire for orgasm.  I.e. “you just wanna get off.”

The therapist and my soon to be ex-wife jointly decided therapy was not going to work anymore and they both quit.  It was over.   

The marriage was done and I was left a fat, empty shell of a man no closer to real intimacy than I was the day I met my ex ten years prior.

Not only that, I was now shell shocked and suffering my own version of sexual PTSD.  The denial of intimacy left me raw, confused, and without a positive self-image, sexual or otherwise.

I was thusly unleashed on the women of my city.

It has been over six years since I embarked on this process.  I set out to become a master of sex.  I wanted to be wanted just for my sexual prowess.  I had an enormous black hole to fill, a void left gaping from years of neglect.  Right or wrong, my self-identity had become tied to the consistent and persistent absence of sex in my life.  I set out to remedy this. 

I learned game from Roissy, Roosh and Rational Male.  I enhanced my lifestyle together with Mike from Danger and Play.  I got bigger, stronger and started TRT.   I resurrected my career via the Come Back

Essentially, I taught myself how to be a man in today’s world, supplementing the lack of example and education my father gave me with my own research. 

I found my tribe online.  I finally found my way.

Slowly, I chipped away at the negative mess I had allowed myself to become.  When I started receiving compliments and positive energy from new women, I understood more acutely what had been missing.  No one had called me handsome in years.  No one had exhibited desire towards me.  No one ever said, “god, I love to fuck you!”  The absence of any positive feedback when combined with constant rejection left my inner monologue a mess. 

Forming my own intrinsic positive sexual self-image was a revelation.  Replacing negative self-talk with positive changed my life (see Gorilla Mindset for ways to do this).

Jack Murphy Live You Deserve to be a Sex God Part I 2

The journey

My post-divorce sexual journey progressed along with the other elements of self-improvement.  As I was able to raise my status and understand my value in the sexual market place, I learned to be more honest with my desires.  When I previously had believed myself to be damaged or low value, I’ll admit, I was not entirely honest with women. 

I would play their games of relationship formation but I really just wanted the sex.  I was afraid they would say no, so I lied and played the vague game.

It wasn’t honest and I didn’t like it.  I felt like a liar.  I felt like I was kowtowing.  All just to feel affirmed and get that intimacy.  It reminded me of my marriage. 

Because I wasn’t being totally honest, the women in my life didn’t desire me for me, they fell for an image I allowed them to create.  I wasn’t really getting what I wanted.

As my status rose and fear diminished, I was finally able to be completely honest about my desires.  I was less afraid of rejection because my abundance mindset had turned into actual abundance.  I was a man with options.

I learned I could have precisely what I wanted and that very thing might even be right around the corner.

By being strong and honest I attracted what I desired.

What I wanted was open and raw emotional sex with anyone I chose. I wanted happy healthy non-monogamy.  I wanted threesomes.  I wanted to explore bondage.  I wanted to explore sado-masochism.  I wanted to explore orgies and group sex.  I wanted sexual marathons.  I wanted to transcend time and space through sexual meditation.  I wanted to become a sex god.  I wanted to be the best sex she ever had, every time.

More than anything, I yearned for intimacy and acceptance. 

I burned for the approval that could only come from a woman accepting you inside her body.  For me, sex is for more than just the physical act, it is an act of kindness and love.  It is therapeutic.  In its more raw incarnations it can involve tears and intense feelings.  It can be healing for both parties.

Eventually, my sexual interests led me deeper into BDSM. I learned I like to be extremely rough and dominant.  I learned I liked to choke women during sex.  I learned I like to simulate rape with a consenting partner.  I learned I like to tie women up and beat them. 

I learned I loved to see her quivering on the floor, hair matted with sweat, semen and tears – mascara smeared, her face covered in shame and abuse wondering, hoping, begging – will there be more, please, Sir, will there be more?

As the complexities of my sex life increased so too did my introspection.  I had been programmed to think these types of sexual behaviors were wrong.  My parents were never explicit about it, but they never gave me a framework to work with other than: sex with someone you love is best. 

While I believe that to be true today, the journey to get to that point can be long and potentially infinite.  As such, we need guidelines and an understanding of what is ok to inform decisions.

I examined my behaviors and wondered if what I was doing was healthy.  Was having sex with several different people in a week or a day, ok? Was it ok to simulate rape with a girl who was 15 years younger, just because she wanted it?  Was I taking advantage of people?  Was I being harmful to myself?  Did she really want to be spanked like that or did I just have a hunch?

When I was in my early 20’s I had sexual nightmares.  I dreamed of terrible taboo things I never had any desire for in real life.  They were terrifying.  I didn’t want what I dreamed.  I was disgusted with myself.  I mistakenly took that as a signal to stop dating around.  I misunderstood it to be a manifestation of cognitive dissonance I needed to address. 

I believed I needed to stop having sex with so many people, so I (stupidly) married the next woman I met.

I was wrong.  I wasn’t doing anything wrong.  I simply had the wrong framework.  I was operating under the blue pill feminine imperative.  I had shamed myself for having sex with just a handful of people.  What I needed then was what I needed on my journey later in life: a reasonable, thoughtful, moral framework for sexual health.

This moral framework would eventually address the dissonance which had grown.  My actions and desires came into deeper conflict with my internal programming and cultural norms.  I felt the shame from inside as well as out. 

Sleeping with many women – bad.  Not being monogamous – bad.  Being rough and choking girls during sex – bad.  Hitting them – worse.  Raping them (with consent) – the worst!

Not only was my programming telling me I was wrong but because I had drifted so far from “normal”  I had nothing anchoring me. 

In spite of achieving my goals, I was confused and distressed. 

I needed something to help guide me.  I needed an anchor, I needed a framework.  I needed something to concretely say, this is “OK.”

Click here for Part II: A moral framework for sexual health

[editor’s note: This may seem like a lot of navel gazing, and it is.  I’m trying to show the dissonance between societal expectations and innate desires, concluding with an explicit “how to” to operate within a relevant moral framework for sexual health.  Bear with me, the actionable part is next!]