Sex

Pleasure was once elusive to me. it was a grand idea that was described by some cheesy, misrepresented, overtly romanticized scene in a television show or a paragraph in a book. By Sid Azmi, art by Heather Heckel

Growing up as a Malay Muslim in Singapore, I was taught to believe that sex is something that happened to you only if you could earn great love.

In order to earn this love, I was to behave a certain way – an obedient daughter who was religiously pious; and who could roll spring rolls like a machine and make fragrant tea for our visitors at home. I should be a “good” and devout woman; waiting patiently for a “good” man who would think I am worthy of his affections and sex. Even after I ran away from home in my late teens to attend college in the United States, I internally upheld this belief in my ideas of sex – pleasure was given to me, something that was earned. I remember the first time I used a vibrator in my mid 20’s – I cried, I sobbed. I had turn to this vibrator in my desperate need to fulfill my now latent sex life with a long term partner. Because I had never masturbated and did not know how, I followed an advice from a sex column that encouraged the use of a vibrator, which I had hoped so hard to help me expand my vacuum knowledge of sex and could quickly propel me out of my emotional abyss. As I orgasmed, I felt as though I had betrayed the natural order of things. There was nothing proud or satisfying about that moment. I had stolen a pleasurable feeling that was supposed to be gifted to me by love. I had cheated the norm and bought a knock off version of pleasure. I did not realize it then, that those thoughts and feelings of shame, disempowered me even further. Pleasure, was further away for me than ever.

Yet, my hands found themselves repeatedly reaching out for that shameful vibrator that was tucked so deep in my dresser. (Only now do I find it exhilarating as I recall those moments when I had to go on fours, naked, to reach for the liberating device, how incredibly sexy I visually was to anyone standing by!) With each orgasm I had brought on by myself, my guilt surrendered to the curiosity of the possibilities of all the various sensations I have yet to experience. Over time, the orgasms that followed mirrored nothing I had seen, heard of, read about in my life; only stronger, more reaffirming and alluring than the last. Eventually, my legs spread wider, my body shook harder and my heart become fuller. I grew more internally confident of my body and of my own ability to please myself. I became an incredible sexual human being. That was the beginning of my taking ownership of my pleasure.

The discovery of masturbation or what I would like to refer to as sexual self-care may not have been as dramatic for most people as it was for me. Children engage in it as part of a self-soothing mechanism. My own little one had described it “as a cozy feeling”, as he casually “played with” his bits nonchalantly at the playground. His action was childlike and completely non-perverted. His body and psyche was working collectively to naturally calm his nerves. By some point in our adulthood, we would have discovered that it felt good to touch our bodies and genitals; and like me, with enough curiosity and over time, succumbed to the incredible pleasant feeling it offered. Behind closed doors, many of us reveled in the joys of sexual self-care; giving in to this organic way of how our bodies can bring our state of mind to bliss. We look forward to this time alone, when we can secretly play with ourselves and indulge our minds and bodies whichever way it pleases us most. Some of us create rituals – whether it is a bath to romanticize the mood, or searching for the best porn video that would titillate our erotic minds the most – we make a small to do about spending this time alone. It is guilty pleasure, in the truest sense of the phrase. But sadly, regardless of how I would like to sugar coat it – masturbation, sexual self-care – the act of taking pleasure in our own hands, literally, makes us feel guilty, and ashamed.

In my work at Please, I have encountered countless individuals who seek to expand their sexual experience with their partners but have no idea how. We lack understanding on what our partners enjoy mainly because we ourselves have yet to discover our own preferences. The lack of knowledge comes from both ends. In order to experience a fulfilling sexual dynamic with another human being – which is what society has conditioned us to think how sex should take place – in partnership with another person, it is important to know how we, ourselves can be pleased. Therefore, it is unproductive to shame masturbation for it gives an insight to pleasure that transcends predictable missionary style fucking! I give reasons in my conversations with these individuals to why masturbation works. Watch how I unfold this! I masturbate because it feels good. I masturbate because it is my mode of relaxation. I masturbate because it makes me feel sexually alive. More importantly, I masturbate so I can learn to be an incredible lover. Has anyone said that out loud yet? I masturbate so I can understand what my body likes and dislikes. I masturbate so that I can set boundaries for how I want my body to be touched and for me to know when my body is ready to allow something more vulnerable. More importantly, I masturbate so I can create a pleasure roadmap so vast, it would be impossible for a lover to never be able to please me. Since I have learned to masturbate indulgently and without shame, I have never had bad sex with anyone. Great sex is attainable to all; and all you need to start is you.

So how about it – let us quit shaming masturbation, or pleasure, or sex (solo, with a partner or many others at the same time)? What if, as a new beginning to an evolving sex life, we project outwardly an unabashed and unapologetic pride to owning pleasure – as though it is another component of life that we as a society measure our success with? What if we began making these statements out loud: I am proud to openly say that I love masturbating and how I am able to please myself; that it feels as satisfying as being able to afford my first car! I am proud of the fact that I can have multiple orgasms on my own or with a partner; just as I am as proud of having achieved many professional accolades I worked so hard for. In proudly owning pleasure for ourselves, we are free, liberated, validated, as ease, happy. Come visit me at Please, and I will gladly trudge through this with you – with a vibrator buzzing over our pants, out in front of our uncovered glass windows, for ourselves looking out to a world where sex and pleasure is never shameful.

Please visit: http://www.pleasenewyork.com

A Conversation with Sid Azmi, a resident of Park Slope, and the owner of please, an educated Pleasure Shop.

It’s an Fall afternoon in Park Slope and pleasure boutique Please sits perched on the corner in a swirl of sunny windows, glass tables, and exposed brick. A song spills out of the speakers as a man wanders in and owner Sid Azmi leaps up to assist him. He needs something specific for his girlfriend; they don’t carry it, but could she suggest something similar? He asks how much, already keen to purchase it, but she advises him to talk to his partner again first. As he steps back out onto the street, she waves goodbye and wishes him the best. To Azmi, people are more important than the sale. The items she sells just happen to include vibrators.

Azmi is open with her gestures and smiles, as well as her story. “I grew up in Singapore and moved here when I was 19. I was basically running away from home,” said Azmi. After moving to the United States to attend Suffolk University in Boston, she became a radiation therapist and worked intimately with cancer patients. “I worked with a lot of patients who were diagnosed with urological-based cancers like prostate cancer,” Azmi reflected. She noticed that even while people were surviving their cancer, the quality of their sex lives were rarely discussed. Her patients grappled with vulnerable issues as certain sexual experiences dramatically changed or vanished completely. And while they faced these problems, no platform existed on which to discuss it. “The medical world is so straight-laced,” said Azmi. “Anything that was sexual was considered taboo.” As a chief therapist, Azmi found herself wanting to open a small business and provide a comfortable space for people to discuss and improve their sex lives without limitations. “The changing of how people think about sex has always been in my life as a conversation piece,” said Azmi. “So how do we put that into a business form? We put it into a store that symbolizes that. The store is not just a financial endeavor, it’s more of a social mission that we carry.” For many, the idea of shopping for a pleasure item is unthinkable. Some still have trouble looking their local bodega owner in the eye when buying condoms, let alone purchasing a sex toy. Azmi wanted to create a space that was “transparent, open, and welcoming” while also hoping to reframe the way people think about stores like hers. For those who were confused or uneasy about broaching the topic of sexual pleasure, Azmi found that most were often scared of what they didn’t fully understand. As she educated others, she believed the best way of achieving a productive discussion was meeting them halfway with patience and humor. “Sex is one of our main driving forces, and we don’t talk about it,” asserted Azmi. She hoped to embolden people in her community to not only re-acquaint themselves with what brings them pleasure, but ask for it without guilt or fear of stigma. Azmi believes that there’s more to sex than just the act itself. “Sex enables us to be assertive and confident. It contributes to wellness, exercise, and mental stimulation. When you are happy internally, that joy perpetuates outward.” Azmi went on to explain her pride in owning a business in Park Slope and admitted that while small businesses generate less revenue financially and meet greater barriers, she enjoys the experience of serving her neighbors. “We are heavily dependant on our community,” Azmi stressed. “In the long run, learning to have a relationship with your community is a very important aspect of any business. People don’t buy things just because they really want them; they buy things also because they like you. I think the second part is what keeps a business open longer.” And even with simple likability proving hugely beneficial in attracting patrons, Azmi hopes that it goes deeper than that. “I think that when people can identify with something – whether it’s the products, or the mission, or the people working in there – they’re more proud to be in those communities,” Azmi beamed. “I’m proud to be in this community because my store exists. Even if it wasn’t my store, it would make me think, ‘Oh, my neighborhood is cool!’”

http://www.pleasenewyork.com

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