Where Is Your Sexual Comfort Line?

"There," I thought to myself, "That right there is where my sexual comfort ends and discomfort begins."

Turns out it only took me sitting squished to 15 other people in a tiny handmade igloo-looking structure doing a Temazcal ceremony to reach it. This was a tiny space; and everyone was packed in tight. The German man sitting directly opposite of me was butt naked. Somehow, even though I’ve been in more risque situations, this brought out my inner prude.

If we went in naked, it would have been something I was expecting. However, we went in our swim suits and he had a towel wrapped around him. I suppose I made the mistake of assuming he had something underneath it. He sat cross-legged and the towel bunched up on his upper thigh. It almost felt like I was peeping under his 'skirt.'

I wasn’t offended and I didn't feel like he was doing something wrong. I was surprised that I felt that he was inappropriately dressed. I was surprised that I was mildly uneasy and a little bit giggly.

I felt especially sorry for the woman sitting next to him who, when we were asked to lie down (almost on top of each other), came face to crotch with his naughty bits. She had to get up and re-adjust herself so that she wasn’t faced with staring at his dick the whole time. That made me burst out laughing.

Thinking about Sexual Comfort Lines

This experience made me think about the whole issue of sexual comfort and how we react to it. I’m more of a live and let live person. It’ll take quite an outrageous and potentially illegal act (or anything harming minors or that is non-consensual) to get me to speak up. Yet, there are many people who have comfort zones that don’t extend very far.

This is all fine and dandy. After all, who am I to judge or tell you what should make you feel comfortable or not? It’s just that when the person feeling uncomfortable tries to change others around them, then that really ruffles my feathers.

I’d like to believe that a person's sexual comfort line lies in how one was raised; or rather, how sex was treated while growing up. The results being either extremely prudish or swinging the other way and fucking everything. Then again, I'm not a scientist so I’m not sure.

Judging from my personal experience, many people judge other people's sexuality according to what brings out the most shame in their own sexuality. Which is probably why there are so many anti-gay male politicians who get caught with their pants around their ankles while they are with another man.

Examining My Own Sexual Comfort Zone

After we were done with the Temazcal ceremony, we were hosed down by the young daughter of the shaman. She couldn't have been any older than 14. Our German friend stood naked in front of her while being hosed off, and naturally that brought about gasps of horror from some other participants.

It did bring about a twinge of something in me too, but this man wasn’t 'exposing' himself to her in a sexual way. In fact, it was rather refreshing at how normal it seemed. I looked around and an Italian woman who was in the ceremony with us had just stripped naked to get changed. The feelings I experienced weren't their problem. They were mine. It was where my upbringing was showing; where the human body was something to be ashamed of, to be covered, and that the only acceptable way to expose the human body was in a sexual way.

How odd. The human body was reduced to nothing more than a vehicle of sex in my mind. Any other way of viewing it was considered weird and a cause for worry. That moment gave me a glimpse of my own sexual comfort line. I'm happy that I caught it in time to know that it is my own flaw.

Sure, the German was standing naked in front of a young girl, but she didn’t care. For her (and her mother who was there), this was just a body. She wasn’t being assaulted by anyone. She was being shown that the body is natural and nothing to be ashamed of; and after all these years with all my experimentations and playing, so was I.

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