When I was in college, a junior or senior, a group of friends and I sat in my apartment living room talking about sex. There were probably about ten guys including my roommate and me, maybe more. The conversation was filled with a lot of I fucked her. I did this. I did that. However, the conversation took a turn. We started to talk about what we liked about sex and what we liked to do or have done to us. I loved the open discussion.
I do not know how the hell we got there. One of my friends admitted that he liked sticking his tongue in the booty hole of a lady occasionally. Many of us were quite. Some others called him a nasty mutha. I think I was the only guy that was like, “Word.” However, one of my boys took the step that most men are too bytch to take, admitting about themselves, or accepting in other men: anal pleasure (Damn no turning back now). A life or sex coach does not question the pleasure of his or her clients. Good coaches ask their clients to reflect on their lives sexually and otherwise and take responsibilities for their desires and sexual needs.
My boy, I’ll call him Scapegoat Jim, blurted, “I like it when a girl puts a finger in my ass.” The record skipped and the dancing stopped. Our mouths dropped.
“You like a finger in our ass!” One guy yelled.
“Oh Sugar. Honey. Ice. Tea. Next you’ll want a dick in your ass.” Said another.
The conversation continued like that for 10 minutes or so. Scapegoat was beaten into submission. His sexual likes became the center of bytch ridicule. Moreover, although all in the room knew Scapegoat was a heterosexual man, his sexual orientation came into question because he openly discussed his booty hole. That was the end our discussion, and I do not ever remember having another.
A little later, my man Scapegoat gave me a lift back to the campus. As we walked to his car, I found myself with my mouth hanging open still.
“Are you crazy?” I asked. Scapegoat said nothing. “Hey, I got No problem with you liking a finger in your ass. I just think you were crazy for admitting it in there. What made you think you could admit that to that group of dudes?”
When dealing with heterosexual (and sometimes gay) men in life and sex coaching, I have found that they experience sex with nothing but their penises, not because men cannot find pleasure in multiple ways, but because heterosexual male socialization does not allow men to be anything else but “Dick Holders,” “Penis Havers,” “Pee-Pee Wigglers,”…. Last time I looked at myself I was a father, a cleaner, an educator, a hip hop and house fanatic, and among other things, a human most of all. Thus, when I say men are bytches, I am not relating this notion in my head to gender or sexual orientation. I am relating it to heterosexual, male socialization and our acceptance of one-dimensional roles in the world.
In my own marriage, I had to show and prove that being a father meant being caring, cleaning clothes, twisting locks, and knowing that fatherhood means as much as motherhood. Men have the ability to be more than men. Men have the ability to be human; therefore, they have the ability to express themselves sexually, spiritually, and mentally trough a wide-range of actions. I see nothing wrong with that. Men who have the courage to express themselves as whole beings, instead of some impossible man ideal, live lives that benefit themselves, their loves, and their careers, their children, and themselves.
Male Erogenous Zones
In coaching sessions with men and couples including men, the discussion of male erogenous zones often comes up often (See article http://ezinearticles.com/?The-Sexual-Body-Feelings-and-Erogenous-Zones-of-Men&id=107432). Many sex researchers, therapists, counselors, and coaches have to remind men and their partners that men are more than their penises. Male erogenous zones include the scalp, the scrotum and testicles, the nipples, the perineum (the area between the penis and the anus), the navel, the penis (of course), and, oh my God say it isn’t so, the anus.
In relationships, many men ignore their own sexuality. We’re bytches. We’re ready to get in a fight, ‘keep it real”, so that folk take us seriously. On the other, hand many of us are too afraid to tell our lovers that we’re more than just a penis. Moreover, we’re too afraid to even imagine sex without our cocks being the center of the situation. That, my friends, is the definition of being a bytch. This bytchiness contributes to homophobia. If we do not accept our own sexual selves, how can we accept others?
My boy Scapegoat was publicly chastised for enjoying anal stimulation in a heterosexual relationship. He had to have something wrong with him. Those that know me know that I see humans as humans at this point in my life. This perspective on life has given me great freedom and has given me permission to love and accept folk different than myself. Is it possible that we make homosexual men scapegoats because of our own inability to accept ourselves sexually? We feel uncomfortable with their freedom?
In graduate school, I had a close friend who died shortly after I earned my doctorate. He was a classmate, a co-worker, and a friend. Terry was slightly older than I was. I remember him as simply a class act. He dressed well, presented himself well, and cared for folk. Terry was also gay and suffering from HIV. I did not know this when we met. In addition, I am not sure that if I had known at the time we met that I would I have been as comfortable with him as I was. You see, Terry and I talked about sports, clothes, work, school, and women. I told about what lady I was chasing and shared my opinions about dating women in general. I asked his advice; he gave good advice. He always seemed to be fully present in our conversations. I thought he was heterosexual. One day a mutual friend and I were speaking, and she began expressing concern about Terry’s boyfriend.
“Boyfriend! Whose boyfriend?!” I questioned-yelled.
“Terry is gay?”
“You didn’t know?
The very next time I saw Terry in private, I blurted, “You’re gay? Why didn’t you tell me?” He sorta shrugged his shoulders. I thought about all the conversations we had together and about all the friendship he had shown me. Terry had sucked me in (pun intended). He was a friend, AND he was gay. What was I to do?
Terry deserved the friendship that he had given freely. I truly became Terry’s friend. He shared the physical abuse that he faced in his relationship. He shared how his partner and he both suffered from HIV. I listened as a good friend, as he had shown me how to listen.
I gave up being afraid of my own sexuality, and I gave up worrying about the sexuality of others. I learned from my friendship with Terry and interactions with my clients. I am still learning. I know that I will be judged by the company I keep; moreover, I know each client that I coach changes me and teaches me more about myself and the entire human community. Thus, the company I keep and the coaching practice I love reflects my absolute dedication to coach and learn from all humans. I would be a bytch if I did anything less.
For a free coaching session email Dr. Nwachi Tafari (Dr. T.) at firstname.lastname@example.org or call 336.662.7777. A touch can change the world.
Your servant Dr. Nwachi Tafari