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I got “The Survivor’s Guide to Sex” by Staci Haines a few years ago and started to read it, then stopped and came back to it later. As a survivor of childhood abuse the topic has great potential value for me, so why did I put it away and have to reread it later?
This book is geared toward women who have survived some form of sexual or emotional abuse and whom now as adults want to have a healthy and satisfying sex life. The immediate problem is that it isn’t just women whose sexuality is messed with by abuse. The number of men and boys who are abused may be less, but it is not insignificant. Where is a book for them, or where is a book that is truly inclusive?
In 13 chapters, Haines walks female survivors through different areas they may be struggling with. The first chapter is an affirmation that you have a right to feel sexual and to experience sex. This connects directly to chapter 2, where sexual desire and pleasure are laid out so you can recognize them.
That can be difficult for several reasons, and the next three chapters cover these in some detail and with empathy. First, it is very common to dissociate during abuse and afterwards; it is a survival mechanism, but frankly it can kill sexual pleasure. Sometimes survivors simply attempt to deny all sexual contact, which is their choice, but they can also go overboard with sex. Haines calls each of these “denial,” because the motivation isn’t the person’s present desires but her coping with the past. Finally, many abuse survivors were never taught the basics about their bodies or other human bodies. I suspect this was a further way to isolate and control them, so the basics here, with illustrations, could be very helpful.
Then Haines turns to the actual sexual part of healing, beginning with oneself in chapter 6. Masturbation is a great way to get comfortable with your body and learn about it. Often survivors are raised in environments where they are told this is wrong while the abuse is somehow ignored or justified — disgusting! This chapter isn’t as good as a workshop or book focused on self-pleasure, but it’s a good introduction.
Internally, many survivors have difficulty with the concepts of consent and boundaries, and that shouldn’t be a surprise considering that neither concept was respected when they were abused. Haines shows the issues to be complex and changing, which they are, in chapter 7. You have to have a good grasp of your own body, desires, and boundaries in order to take that next step to partner sex.
The next three chapters talk about partner sex. First, borrowing from SM I’d say, Haines talks about the need to negotiate what you want with a partner and how to do that. Chapter 9 looks at oral sex, a common form of abuse, but even outside of abuse it is often viewed as a taboo subject and therefore undiscussed even in healthy families. Penetration is the topic of chapter 10, and Haines includes both vaginal and anal sex here. Each topic is dealt with sensitively and honestly.
Triggers are anything that make us recall the abuse, and some may never fully lose their initial power, but we can learn to control our reactions to them. Haines has a clever idea that will sound frightening: embracing your triggers to help you heal. She isn’t talking about becoming turned on by triggers in chapter 11 but about recognizing them for what they are and learning to work through and with them. Frankly I’d recommend a good therapist to help you here, not just yourself or you and your partner. A trigger can have serious emotional consequences if you don’t know what you are doing.
Haines returns to the mental stuff in chapter 12 as she tackles the issue of getting therapy to help you work through post-abuse emotions you will have regardless of how many years pass. While not insisting that you need a trained therapist, she does insist that you need your feelings validated and witnessed to help you recover. Again I’d go with a trained professional here, but yes, your partners, family and friends must also help.
Finally chapter 13, an interesting choice of number, tackles the issues of S/M, RP, and fantasy in sex. Unlike many books on sexual abuse, Haines seems nicely aware that these activities are neutral in and of themselves and their value to you is only drawn from what you do and why you do them. This was refreshing to read in a world that still mostly calls BDSM sick and labels sexual activities that are not between men and women and are not for reproduction as evil, or at least less valid.
Each chapter has exercises, some mental and some physical, to help the reader put the text into practice. As anyone recovering from abuse can tell you: it is work. These exercises are a good addition to the text and are very doable, though you need to take your time. Recovery is not fast; sorry if that disappoints you.
This is a good first book, especially for women who lack even a basic knowledge of their bodies or sexuality. This reflects two potential basic problems: This is a very woman-centered book, and it is very introductory. Get it if you are just starting your recovery, but not if you’ve been working on a healthier sex life for a few years. |
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