What’s my sexual style?
Camille answers a reader’s question about discovering what he wants in bed—and why curiosity can be hotter than certainty
Hi guys, back with a bite-sized advice column for you today! I’m experimenting with answering a single question in a longer, essayistic format once a week, vs. doing several questions in the same column once a month—what do you prefer?
As always, you can submit your questions here, and I’m planning to be back with more answers soon. If you’re a paid sub, feel free to mention that and I’ll try to prioritize your question!
What’s my sexual style?
Thoughts on finding your voice and getting in touch with your desires sexually/romantically? I feel there’s a lot of pressure to be in charge, but often find myself unaware of what I want in a particular moment, sometimes fabricating desires just to have something to appear to want (with varying effects). Have not had much success discussing this with friends and others’ (e.g. Aella’s) writing on the subject sometimes gives me the impression it’s supposed to be purely instinctive?
I’ve started thinking of it more like finding a writing or fashion style, but there is not a lot of interesting or informative work on this. I find the manosphere thought generally too transparently preying on insecurity and not practical or useful.
- M/24
You’re right that there’s a deficit of meaningful writing about how we relate to our desires—it’s part of why I started Pleasure-Seeking! But while your introspection on this is admirable, I suspect what you’re viewing as a weakness might actually be your superpower. Often, people are so focused on what they want that they forge blindly ahead, missing their partner’s cues and foreclosing the possibility of a more embodied, mutual eroticism.
You mentioned sometimes fabricating desire to appear like you want something, and feeling pressured to lead in your sexual encounters. But what would it feel like to focus, instead, on what turns the other person on, and what that brings up in you? Society tells men their desires should be direct, dominant, and the center of every sexual interaction. But it’s totally normal to be in the process of figuring out your sexual identity, and you might find it liberating if, instead of pretending to want something you’re not sure about, you turn toward your partner and see what desires you can draw out of them. If you’re a straight guy dating women, this will likely be a breath of fresh air—because for every gal who wants a man to take charge, there’s another who’s sick of them assuming she’s into that.
I love your comparison to finding a writing or fashion style, because it implies a process of trial and error. When I think about the people I know with the best style, they’re not the ones wearing a uniform, chasing microtrends, or sticking to a clearly defined personal brand. They’re people who take risks, and approach getting dressed with a sense of curiosity and play—pushing themselves out of their comfort zone and trying out new personas, just to see what sparks.
Much like your best outfit might come from a spontaneous decision, the best sex has an emergent quality. Even language reflects this: when we talk about sexual chemistry, we’re describing what happens when two substances interact—transforming in each other’s presence to create something entirely new.
Your question reminds me of a beautiful quote from a piece by becca rothfeld:
“We are not impermeable packages of preformed desires, importing our likes and dislikes around with us from one encounter to the next like papers in a briefcase. It is not erotic to impose a ready-made desire onto someone pliant, or to slot her into a fetish that has little to do with her. Eroticism occurs only when someone rewrites us so completely that she rewrites even the quality and content of our appetites, and only when this radical rewriting is reciprocal.”
Good sex isn’t about imposing a ready-made script; it’s about mutual discovery. You don’t need to show up knowing exactly what you want—just approach sex with openness and curiosity, and let your desires unfold. What you discover may surprise you!
Outside of partnered sex, I’d also suggest thinking about why certain dynamics turn you on in the first place. Are you taking the lead because you think that’s what your partner wants, or does responding to their desires make you feel more connected? Are you turned on by feeling in control, or by losing control in the heat of the moment? What aspects of a sexual activity or dynamic do you most eroticize, and is there another way to elicit a similar feeling?
Identifying not just what turns you on, but why it turns you on, can help make your sexual identity feel less performative and more authentic to you. There are so many approaches to the same fetish; I always think of that old chestnut from Dan Savage about how some people say they like being spanked because they were spanked as a child, while others say it’s because they weren’t spanked as a child. Even if you and your partner like the same things, you might like them for different reasons—and that’s a conversation worth having, because it will teach you a lot about their erotic psychology.
If you aren’t sure where to start, you could try experimenting with different kinds of porn, or even taking the BDSM quiz. Sure, it’s a little gimmicky, but the real value isn’t in the results—it’s in your reactions to them, which might reveal something about how you see yourself. Think of it like a horoscope or tarot reading: pay attention to what resonates, but take it with a grain of salt, because it’s up to you to decide what it means.
Good luck!
Camille
Thanks for reading! The more questions I get, the more often I’ll do this—so submit your questions anonymously HERE.
Wow. Love that Becca Rothfield quote. How did you come across her article?
boom!