Being Averse to Emotional Intimacy & PDA is Hardwired Into My DNA

My parents never kissed each other on the lips in front of me whilst I was growing up. We hardly talked about sex either. I think that’s why I’m so averse to emotional intimacy and public displays of affection (PDA), because it is all so foreign to me. The notion of sex in my semi-traditional Indian household to this day is that pre-marital sex is frowned upon but allowed. Whilst I myself as a 20-year-old who has formed her own opinions on the world around her believe it to be perfectly okay, I still find the idea of intimacy and PDA hard to grasp.

My mum and dad loved each other wholly; they just didn’t show it in front of their children. It’s deep-rooted in their Indian upbringing to keep those things private; I do not blame them at all. We were never open about our emotions and from talking to my Indian friends it seems to be the same story in their households. The idea that such a natural activity like sex is taboo in so many households is baffling to me and to this day I am trying to open my dad’s mind to the fact that love is something good. Something we should be loud about.

Whenever a remotely intimate scene comes on the television my dad would quickly search the room for the remote, grabbing it as fast as he could to not ‘corrupt’ his children’s minds. This often left an uneasy awkwardness in the room which is something I now associate with emotional intimacy. I understand why he acted this way; being born and raised in a small Indian village meant that there were certain values that were enforced upon him.

Why would someone want me?

I went on a first date last year, my first ever first date too. I had all the normal feelings of anticipation and nervousness, but on top of all of those fears was one that pushed those down like a ten-ton weight – what if he tries to kiss me? The date was standard, drinks in a pub and then the walk to the tube but I didn’t anticipate the PDA – especially on a first date. I kept telling myself that it’s okay and that it was just new to me. Which obviously it was. I left feeling like I’d done something wrong; a common feeling I’ve found with my friends too. An attractive man wanted to date me, but I guess it all felt very unnatural to me. He did try to kiss me, but I turned my head and I am still regretful that I didn’t kiss him. He would’ve been the first guy that I ever had half a connection with to kiss me. I ended up distancing myself from him.

I want someone to teach me how to love not to just expect me to know.

But in order to even contemplate loving someone else, I believe I must love myself first. It is only fair to me to establish a secure relationship with myself before I add another person into my picture. This was not an epiphany of the importance of self-love, it was a gradual realisation after indulging in the fantasy of people making me whole.

I grew up thinking sex was meant to make you whole and the day after your first time was the beginning of your life as a fully-fledged woman. But I know that’s not the case now. Mr Right may not exist, and the first time might not live up to movie-like expectations and that’s perfectly fine. This acceptance of my first time not living up to the perfect sex scene built up in my head can be seen as a form of radical self-love. Accepting the trepidation, awkwardness, new sensations and everything in between behind such an event is something that took me a long time. All my life I have seen sex portrayed as a beautiful intimate act when in actual fact it’s a bit sweaty (or so I’ve heard).

We are all strong women regardless of whether we have been intimate with someone before!

It’s time for the new generation to create an open dialogue about intimacy because I know I am not alone in these fears. This could be achieved by firstly implementing the view that sex is perfectly normal at home, in schools and wherever else it is appropriate. We are all products of egg and sperm so it should not be such a squirmish topic. I remember the majority of my sexual education classes consisting of cartoon videos displaying sex. I learnt so little about such a normal act and was too afraid to ask questions because I was a naturally shy person. I believe all sexual education classes should be taught if possible by a teacher trained to teach such an important class which will shape that generation’s view on sex. A safe space must be created from a young age for children to ask questions about sex. Be it in schools or at home, as long as it is safe it may help children grow up having a healthier relationship to sex than I do.

But please remember that everyone goes at their own pace. There’s no rush, if you don’t feel ready then that’s ok too. Always feel comfortable.

By Amber Sunner (@ambersunner)

(she/her)

Edited by Makella Ama (@ma.kevelli) and Halima Jibril (@h.alimaa)

Graphic by Daija (@freshed__squeezed)