A Letter To My C*ck

I’ve successfully avoided posting this for almost a year. Why? Fear.

 

Although it’s been ready for one year, I’ve been scared to share this aspect of my life.

 

Now finally, here it is…

 

I write this for insecure men everywhere hiding in shame. Because I know what it’s like to feel deeply insecure and afraid.

 

May this letter help you feel more human and less alone. May it help you get back on the horse of the stallion that you are even if you feel limp, small, or alone. At some point, you need to face your demons or they will run your life. If you have a teenage son, share this with him. Read it together. Stop hiding, please.

 

I’ve had quite the ride with my cock over the years. This letter sums it up a bit.

 

 

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Dear cock,

 

I’m still on the ride…the journey…with you.

It’s taken me about 40 years to get to this point.

Each year I trust you more and more.

You are my guide, my companion.  You are unflinchingly reliable.

 

Our relationship has been a challenging one.  Now that I’m actually listening to you, I’m learning an incredible amount.

I’m grateful we are coming back into greater connection.

I see now it was me who left you behind.

You never left me.

In fact, you always had my back.

You’re my tuning fork.

 

I am now devoted to you. I am devoted to healing my wounds with you and coming back into deep alignment and connection with all that you are….because that’s what you’re helping me do—connect with all that I am.

It hasn’t always been this way…

I have hated you.

I made you wrong for so many years.

I didn’t trust you.

 

My story used to go, “You have caused me a tremendous amount of pain and shame in my life, therefore, fuck off.”

When you were born, you were trusting, free of trauma and shame. You were as pure as the sun. You were a bright little staff full of wonder and innocence.

Days after birth however, you were deeply violated and cut into without your consent. Why? For the standard reasons boys were circumcised in 1972.

I’m okay with that now but my guess is that I wailed pretty hard when it happened.

 

Circumcision might have been your first big scar and the memory is probably locked somewhere in my body. That day, you were forever altered in appearance, and my trust in Life, on some deep level, was altered.

Now, I don’t have any conscious memory of this, but there’s no way in hell I’d have my own son circumcised.

If I had to guess, on some preverbal level an association was made. It might have gone something like this: My cock causes pain.

 

My heart went into self-protection mode and since cock = pain, I better not keep my heart and cock connected. So it was probably right there in that doctor’s office, that my heart and cock disconnected for the first time.

Thus began the journey away from you that would ultimately lead me to my own hero’s journey that I’m still on—reclaim the heart-cock connection.

 

Masturbation

 

As I grew, I discovered how good it felt to touch you. I remember getting a funny feeling that was a good feeling when I’d climb the steel poles at the playground. This was my first taste of masturbation and the power you held.  This wasn’t bad or wrong, but for some reason I hid. I didn’t tell anyone. It was my little secret.

 

I experimented and remained quiet, as I didn’t know what was natural or normal. No one around me was teaching me or talking to me about your power or your magic, your love, your wisdom. So, my pleasure with you stayed hidden and awkward.

 

Why would I hide such pleasure and awesomeness?

 

I guess I had no one in my life who was willing to be authentic with me, or at least no one I felt safe enough with to talk openly about it.

 

That is, until I had a sleepover with my cousin.

 

Around the age of ten, while still very innocent, my cousin taught me how to masturbate you. At a sleepover when the lights were out, he told me to stick you in a bottle of lotion and move it up and down. Whoah! Blast off! It was amazing!

 

But seconds after my peak pleasure moment, he turned the light on, and called out to my brother who was in the next room “Hey, you gotta see Jay, he’s jerking off in a lotion bottle!” And then, he laughed hysterically at me.

 

Ouch. A kick in the nuts for sure.

 

The person who taught me how to really enjoy you, laughed at me. Thus, my first sexual experience with another person (my 11-year male cousin), was marred with shame and humiliation, which added another layer of “penis = pain.”

 

This was my first big initiation into my sexuality and obviously, it was pretty confusing.

 

My hurt and shame were strong enough to disconnect even more from you.

 

From then on, whenever pleasure was present, shame was also present. I slowly abandoned any form of relationship with you. But I couldn’t deny the pleasure I had with you, so I kept going back for more. You offered me a feeling and a sensation that nothing else could give me.

 

And, sometimes, when I was in pain, I’d touch you, and for a few very brief moments, I’d get relief and all my problems would go away.

 

But the mix of pleasure along with shame created a very confusing experience and I was too scared to ask anyone for help, so I quietly began to turn away from you.

 

Size

 

Around the same time as my cousin exposing me, I had another experience that would cement an untrue story into my brain…

 

….we were over at my neighborhood friend’s house. Somehow after jumping on the trampoline, we played truth or dare. We all pulled our pants down in the trees and showed each other our penises. There were 3 of us. I remember being scared to show you to my friends.

 

One of my friends had a HUGE member for a young kid, say around 11. I think it was adult size, but I can’t say for sure. So, naturally, as I looked at you and compared you to him, I created a story, right there on the spot:

 

“You are small.”

 

I would carry this story for almost 3 decades! Wow! The power in one little perception in that moment altered my view of you. This would later lead me to hiding you in the locker rooms, gyms, and in the bedroom with girlfriends.

 

Of course, when I became sexually active, hiding was kind of challenging. But I still carried the story.

 

I was a late bloomer so my body development came late which meant pubic hair came late, which added to my shame around you. No one had ever made fun of you directly, but somehow I still felt I didn’t measure up.

 

Together we matured slowly, unlike the other boys.

 

My self judgment and distain for you grew as did our disconnection.

 

I hid you from other men and women in settings where it was not natural to hide. In locker rooms, I felt deeply insecure because of how I perceived you.

 

Sex Education

 

I had no guidance about how to really use you or relate to you. My only guidance was by my old man at eighteen when he said, “you better wear a condom.” One day he threw a t-shirt at me with a picture of a cartoon penis wearing an army uniform that said, “Put a helmet on that soldier.”

 

Before that in 8th grade, I learned about sex in my health class, I think for one day. But I honestly don’t remember what was covered and am pretty sure, since I grew up in Utah, they left out a lot of key items.

 

This was my formal sex education.

 

No men and no boys talked about our cocks, except when other boys would make fun of each other and shame each other and laugh at someone. So, I learned to pretend like I had no shame or insecurities in relationship to you and I went along with the jokes and made fun of other boys too, so I could hide my insecurities.

 

I kept the mask on and hoped like hell no one would see what was really going on behind it.

 

Losing my virginity

 

When we finally had sex for the first time at 19, I was, of course, disconnected from you. The girl and I were both drunk. It was so vulnerable I couldn’t bear to be with the feelings. I met her at a party, we came home took our clothes off, and went for it. It was moving too fast for me but I didn’t know how to do it otherwise.

 

I woke up in the morning and she was gone.

 

I didn’t even know her last name or where she lived. Later I would find out that during that same two-week period she had slept with two other guys I knew. I projected onto her that maybe she didn’t even like me, or perhaps she liked those guys better because they knew what they were doing.

 

Needless to say, I was left feeling insecure and inadequate after what was supposed to be the best thing ever—sex. I lied to my friends and said it was great.

 

When I reflected upon this, I didn’t like how you performed. I made you wrong for it being so quick. It was not like the other boys had talked about. It didn’t feel that good.

 

Was I missing something?

 

My shame grew along with my insecurity.

 

In late adolescence, masturbation continued to be a very conflicted experience. I never knew how to lovingly touch you or enjoy you fully. Instead, touching you was a fast, furious, very private, and very shameful affair.

 

My first long-term relationship at nineteen I began to explore sex in an ongoing way with you and had zero idea what I was doing. I was too scared to reach out for real guidance. And, I didn’t even know that was an option.

 

Hazing

 

When I got initiated into a fraternity at the same age, the “brothers” blindfolded me and stripped me naked (along with 41 one

other boys in my pledge class one after the other), then made fun of me publicly in front of over twenty or thirty undergraduates and alumni–all of whom who had been through the same experience and were now drinking and smoking to come back and enjoy the fun.

 

I own that I allowed that to happen.

 

I put you in harms way that night and I abandoned you, again. And, given my strength and tools at that time, I could not have done it any differently.

 

I wanted to belong to that group, so speaking out, even though it was a choice, wasn’t really a choice.

 

Ironically I’m actually super glad I didn’t speak out because I had an amazing 3-4 years there and eventually became president of that fraternity. I later enabled the same hazing behavior that I went through, until I became an alumni and tried to put an end to it.

 

Intense fucking ride when I think back upon it now.

 

Being sexually active

 

Throughout my twenties, I continued to pleasure you with porn, fantasy, and the women I slept with, all with very conflicted feelings.

 

I had moments of feeling strong and capable only to follow that with a lost erection or premature ejaculation, which of course led to a downward spiral of shame, guilt, and disdain.

 

At times, sex felt great, but it also felt super overrated. Both were true and very confusing. I’m guessing that’s probably because my heart was barely online if at all, during sex.

 

Because sex was confusing and shined a light on my insecurities, I took a different course with girls.

 

Rather than fucking or making love, I “conquered” the girl by seducing her until she was super into me, then I’d leave before I had to face my insecurities in the bedroom (at least some of the time).

 

I lied to my friends and agreed with them that sex was awesome.

 

I continued to have zero guidance and didn’t ask for it. No “elder” showed up to help and I didn’t seek one out. I was too insecure. Even if an older man did show up that I trusted and tried to help me, I probably would have denied I needed anything.  My shame was too big an obstacle.

 

In my 20’s and into my 30’s I had a couple of experiences where you would go “soft” on me and/or ejaculate quickly. I felt like I had no control over you, like you marched to a different beat than me. Even though this only happened 10% of the time, it was painful enough to take me out.

 

What the fuck?

 

My anger increased.

 

Losing my erection and ejaculating early added to my avoidance of sex. I blamed you, again. Which just turned into me blaming me.

 

But then…

…I’d have a good experience. The stars would align and I’d have a powerful love making session with a girlfriend and every issue with you would disappear…

…for a while.

 

But of course, when the pain came back, which it always did, I’d run.

 

In fact, I ran away from sex for two years in my mid-twenties. I vowed for two years to not have sex with women because “I want it to be special and to be with the one.”

 

Looking back this was part fear and part wisdom. I was running away and I was attempting to get my heart in the sex game. Both were true.

 

Waving a white flag

 

Finally, in my 30’s I overcame some of my male conditioning and reached out for help with my relationship problems. But I still kept my issues with you in the closet.

 

At first, I didn’t mention you because there was too much shame. I was studying psychology and deeply into studying myself. Yet I still resisted “studying” the occasional loss of erection or ejaculating early. It took me about 3 years into “working on myself” to finally have the balls to speak about all of this.

 

Slowly, I began to have some breakthroughs in my 30’s that helped me taste a new possibility of sexuality with you. I began to see how my mind was partly responsible for your performance.

 

By now I had gone to a few therapists and was growing more comfortable talking about you openly, and was even sharing about you openly with my close male friends.

 

I met my wife during this time, and while I wiggled this way and that to try to get out of the relationship, I eventually got clear I wanted to marry this badass woman. Up until meeting her, my longest relationship was only about a year long.

 

Now I was finally in a real-deal relationship for a few years where I eventually learned how not to run away when things got uncomfortable (I say eventually because I ran away /broke up with her twice before we got married).

 

As I dissolved more shame I stopped letting my fear run my life in this department.  I grew comfortable enough to stand completely naked in front of my men’s group, cock-talk-style, and share with 10 men what I loved and hated about you.

 

They just sat there, loving me, loving you, admiring my courage, and celebrating you and I just as we were. It was super healing.

 

The irony was that the more I expressed my insecurities with people who had earned my trust, the more secure I felt, the less power they had…

 

Whew…

 

Man have I gone through a roller coaster of emotions with you over the years. You name it, I probably felt it in relation to you: sadness, grief, shame, homicidal rage, deep hurt, intense hatred, deep appreciation, and more.

 

One day, after becoming a father and feeling the need for guidance with my sexuality again, I finally hired a man named David Cates.  What he said to me would change the course of our (my cock and I’s) relationship.

 

After explaining the “problem” to David, who listened intently with his piercing blue eyes, he said something like:

 

“What would happen if you just trusted your cock?”

Wham!

 

It hit me right between the eyes. I had never heard anyone come from this perspective.

 

Trust my cock? WTF is he talking about?

 

And that was THE big turning point with you.

 

David helped me reframe this entire issue.

 

Once I had that view, that YOU were inherently trustworthy, I could at least start considering that you were sending me a helpful message, and that perhaps I wasn’t flawed after all.

 

At first it was tough…

 

…When I lost my erection, I tried to trust it, but my ego/mind wanted a different experience.

 

I kept trying to have trust, yet I kept overriding my cock.

 

Over time, my stubbornness would settle.  As the months went by, I’d trust you more and more. I would pause, listen, and then relax.

 

Eventually, I started to wire in a new possibility.

 

When I’d lose my erection with you, instead of freaking out, I’d relax.

 

I’d check in with myself and see where I went. What just happened between my partner and I? Most of the time you were telling me with your softness that I lost connection.

 

I began to see how utterly sensitive I was in the bedroom and how you were my spokesperson. When I’d deny this truth, you’d go soft to get me to listen.

 

I was so sensitive that I would often interpret (often incorrectly) my partner’s tone of voice or body language, as a threat. This fear response on my part would send me away from you and into my head to scan around, track, and figure out the situation.

 

There are many more layers of what I uncovered here that could be described, and it’s in my ebook for those that want that….

 

Yet, slowly over time, and despite my sensitivity, I began to trust you Cock. Losing my erection was merely your feedback that I was not present, that I was in my head (my mind), or that I was stuck in the performance trap trying “hard” to please my partner.

 

By the way, I’ve worked with countless men over the years and this dynamic is common, if not par for the course.

 

Gratitude

 

And so, my amazing, delicate, sensitive, soft, hard, friend…

 

 

I see how you have consistently, without judgment, asked me, over and over again, to cum back to my heart, my home.

 

You are so reliable and on point and I am grateful for your accurate feedback.

 

As I burn through any and all hurts, I see how it all created the perfect storm for me to learn about you, my sexuality, and to inhabit my body in this lifetime. I also see how each core hurt gave me the opportunity to heal a wound to become stronger. Which is what I have done.

 

I see how the more I turned away from you, the more you kept showing up in ways to disappoint me so that you could get my attention.

 

I see how anytime I try to pretend with you to this day, you see through my bullshit immediately.  You help me cut through any fantasies about how, or who, I think I “should” be in the bedroom.

 

You’ve always had my back like that.

 

A true friend between my legs.

 

A warrior for truth and alignment.

 

A staff I can count on. 😉

 

And, your message has slowly become a template to help other men with their relationship to their cocks and their sexuality.

 

When I look the other way, because I probably will, I trust you will give me whatever feedback is critical for my growth in order to help me “pay attention.”

 

So, thank you.

 

Thanks for keeping me honest and showing up in the way that I want with myself and my woman.

 

Thank you for not letting me settle for the classic male trap of “performing” love or love making.

 

Thank you for undermining any attempts of mine to sneak away from dealing with this part of myself.

 

Thank you for burning down the old way and demanding, with your softness, that I learn a new way…

 

…a way that is much more aligned with who I am.

 

Thank you for this journey because I feel deeply called to pass everything I learned onto my son at every stage of his sexual journey.

 

You are a great teacher, cock.

 

I respect your deep sensitivity and integrity.

 

I trust you.

 

I can feel how unflinching you are in asking that I remain true to who I am.

 

Big respect cock.

 

Thank you.

 

I love you.

 

Jayson

 

To learn even more of the nitty gritty details of my personal story and how I overcame my sexual challenges (as well as the hidden psychology fueling my issues), feel free to download this here.

 

Or, feel free to join my private men’s community here.

 

Thanks for reading!

 

And one last request… please pass this forward to a man who would benefit from reading this.

 

Related posts.

https://www.jaysongaddis.com/2015/09/the-root-cause-of-erectile-dysfunction/ 

http://goodmenproject.com/featured-content/what-happens-when-we-dont-teach-our-boys-about-sex/

https://www.jaysongaddis.com/2015/10/sc-22-cock-talk-4-men-getting-really-honest/

https://www.jaysongaddis.com/2015/09/sc-16-cock-talk-mens-sexual-issues-david-cates/