:: Sexualization of Emotional
Needs
Sexual needs are natural to sexual beings. They are the result of
the biological drive and the human need for romantic intimacy.
There is nothing unhealthy or unusual about them.
Sexualized needs, however, run a different course. These emotional
needs are expressed indirectly through sexual activity, acted out
through a sort of sexual pantomime. The needs themselves are
usually legitimate, but the vehicle used to express them is not. We
can see several examples of sexualized emotional needs in everyday
life. Plenty of men use sex as a means of reassuring themselves
that they are virile, competent, masculine. They delight in
sexually conquering women, then bragging about their conquests to
other men, causing them to feel manly and complete. Of course,
their desire for confidence is a legitimate, understandable one.
But sexually exploiting women is an illegitimate means of
satisfying that desire. Likewise, many women are promiscuous not
because they are sex-starved, but because during sex they are made
to feel special and cared for. Again, their needs are perfectly
normal, but their method of satisfying those needs is immoral, even
dangerous.
This is true of other emotional needs that people express
indirectly. Some people, for example, try meeting their need for
comfort through food, gorging themselves whenever they are
depressed or angry. The use of food has become their emotional
outlet, and eating disorders may result. Other people sexualize
objects rather than people, finding erotic excitement through
fetishes (shoes, leather items, etc.). No one can say exactly why
people prefer those methods. All that can be said is that somewhere
along the line they found a combination of emotional and sexual
fulfillment through unnatural means. What they are seeking —
comfort, peace of mind, sexual pleasure — is not wrong in and of
itself. It’s the way they’re seeking it that is
unnatural.
Exactly how and under what circumstances do these needs become
sexualized? Why are they sexualized in some people but not in
others? No one can say for sure. We do know that erotic feelings
provide some of our earliest experiences of pleasure. Infants and
children explore their bodies, lingering over the body parts that
feel especially good. This gives them a sense of warmth and
comfort, the “good” spots providing especially pleasurable
sensations. I believe that we associate warm, positive feelings
with sexual response long before we even know what sex is, because
we associate our sexual organs with pleasure and
comfort.
It should be no surprise, then, that when a person longs for
intimacy with another, that longing may include a desire to share
sexual pleasure. For most people, that longing is directed toward
members of the opposite sex. Normal development usually includes,
as stated earlier, an early phase of bonding with the same sex. By
the time this need for same-sex bonding has been satisfied and the
child is ready for relations with the opposite sex, he is also
entering puberty with its accompanying sexual drives. Perfect
timing! Right when we’re emotionally prepared for romantic love,
our bodies are following suit.
But what happens when we’re not emotionally prepared for
relationships with the opposite sex? What if, by the time we reach
puberty, our need for same-sex love is still unsatisfied and
predominant? Our bodies won’t wait for our emotions to catch up.
Instead, we may develop strong sexual desires which may cross, like
wires, with our emotional needs. In that case, the emotional need
for closeness and identification with other people of our sex
becomes a sexualized need, with members of our own sex being the
object of both our sexual and emotional desires.
And so the emotional responses to early perceptions become sexual
responses as well. The need for bonding and identifying with the
same sex, accelerated by gender identity problems, becomes a sexual
desire. The need to find an ideal male/female figure becomes a need
to sexually merge with that figure. And the need for a nurturer,
mentor, or comrade becomes a desire for sex with a nurturer,
mentor, or comrade.
All of which raises our original question: Why you? No one can say
without really knowing both you and your background. But based on
what we have seen thus far — some prevalent theories and the
experiences of others like you — we can make some educated
guesses.
It probably started with your perceptions. You began to see
yourself as a child without resources. You know better than I
exactly what resources you were lacking: affirmation, attention, a
figure to identify with, or maybe a combination of all three. You
couldn’t articulate it back then; you only knew that something was
missing. And that “something” probably centred around a need for
stronger bond with those of your own sex. Maybe you felt different
from your peers or alienated from one or both of your parents, most
noticeably the one of your own gender. That hurt, no doubt. You
wanted closeness; you felt distance. You can’t really say, perhaps,
who is to bless or who is to blame. Maybe there was obvious
rejection; maybe not. But the result is the same either
way.
Maybe you responded by withdrawing, creating your own world of
safety and fantasy. Or perhaps you simply waited for someone
special to love you and take care of you. You may even have become
angry, resolving to never again let yourself feel hurt or rejected
by another member of your own sex. Each of these responses affected
your relationships with other boys/girls and, eventually, with
other men and women. You felt different from them, too. They may
never have known your feelings of differentness, but you were all
too aware of them. They persisted, giving rise to an aching desire
to bond, to be close, to feel accepted.
At some point, perhaps very early, maybe later, you realized that
this desire was more than emotional. It was accompanied by sexual
longings. Most likely, you were aware of those longings before you
even knew what homosexuality was. Then one day you heard the word
queer or fag, pondered its meaning, put two and two together, and
realized you were one of “them.” It became your secret, most likely
difficult to keep and even more difficult to bear. You didn’t ask
for these feelings, but you learned that they were unacceptable to
most people. That didn’t encourage you to talk them over with
anyone, even those closest to you. Your secret became your private
burden, one you carried for years. Perhaps even to this
day.
So for you, homosexuality, whether expressed through actions or
fantasies, represents legitimate emotional needs that have not been
satisfied through normal means. You are not mentally ill,
reprobate, or retarded. In fact, you may be a highly capable adult
who functions well in most areas. But at some point you have found
deep satisfaction through homosexual feeling.
Remember, homosexuality has served a function for you. Now is the
time to do some serious, reflective thinking. What exactly has that
function been? What kind of satisfaction have you found through
your homosexual fantasies or actions? Only you can answer these
questions. When you do, you will know not only what you have been
seeking, but also what you still need. Count on it — giving up
homosexual contacts will not kill the emotional needs that led to
them in the first place. More than ever, you need to meet them
legitimately as fully as possible. ::
Emotional Responses to Early
Perceptions
The response to an early perception of rejection may take three
forms, all of which can contribute to homosexuality: problems of
gender identity, an idealized image, or same-sex deficits. 1.
Problems of gender identity. Your gender identity is your basic
sense or perception of your masculinity or femininity. Money and
Ehrhardt describe it as “the private experience of gender role, and
gender role is the public expression of gender identity.” Your
gender role is the role your culture expects you to play as a man
or woman, so of course it varies from culture to culture. Your
gender identity is determined by your confidence in that role.
Since our society places a high premium on gender roles, your
ability or inability to fulfill them seriously affects your general
well-being.
Gender Identity Disorder is a clinical term describing a serious
conflict between a person’s assigned gender (male or female) and
his desired gender. This disorder may show itself in
transsexualism, or the desire of a man to actually be a woman, and
vice versa. But Gender Identity Disorder is a far cry from
homosexuality and is not commonly found among homosexually oriented
adults.
But Dr. Friedman points out that feelings of being unmasculine or
unfeminine are common among such adults. He proposes that
unmasculinity, for example, is not necessarily femininity, but a
lack of confidence in a boy’s/man’s own ability to fulfill the
masculine role. This unmasculine or unfeminine experience, which I
consider to be a problem of gender identity rather than a Gender
Identity Disorder, has been noted by a number of investigators. Ten
studies cited by Friedman, conducted between 1962 and 1984, have
turned up the same results: a link between problems of gender
identity and adult homosexuality (Friedman, 1988).
For example in 1981 Bell, Weinberg, and Hammersmith interviewed 979
homosexual men and 477 heterosexual men to determine which
developmental ingredients may affect sexual orientation. Among
their findings was evidence that “gender nonconformity” (their
term) was closely linked to homosexuality:
Even among non-effeminate homosexual men this Dislike of Boys
Activities is the strongest predictor of Adult Homosexuality. While
their nonconformity may not have been so obvious either when they
were growing up or in adulthood, it would appear that where they
thought they stood on a masculine-feminine continuum when they were
young was predictive of their eventual sexual orientation (Bell,
Weinberg, and Hammersmith, Sexual Preference: Its Development in
Men and Women, 1981).
How does this problem of gender identity come about? Like
homosexuality, it is not inborn, but acquired through interactions,
perceptions and responses. A secure masculine or feminine identity
usually develops through bonding with an older figure of the same
sex, usually the father or mother and emulating that older
figure.
As mentioned earlier, the child views the parent as “right”; that
is, if the parent seems to reject the child, the child assume it’s
his fault, not the parent’s. This can undermine a child’s
confidence not only as a person but also as a boy or girl. Problems
of gender identity, then, begin with the child’s belief that he is
unacceptable to the parent of his sex, and therefore unacceptable
to all members of his sex. This robs him of confidence to fulfil
his gender role, having felt no invitation to emulate and identify
with his father or she with her mother, leading to acute feelings
of unmasculinity or unfemininity.
These feelings are confirmed during later development. After all,
confidence with peers is largely determined by confidence at home.
So if a boy feels ill-equipped to deal with other boys through
traditional masculine activities, he will be inclined to avoid
those activities, which disrupts his abilities to bond with other
boys, which reinforces his belief that he is
unmasculine.
2. Idealized image. It’s not uncommon for children to idealize
their parents; in fact, it’s uncommon for them not to. After all,
Daddy looks pretty big and powerful to a little boy, and Mommy
looks beautiful and competent to a little girl. Children naturally
want to be like thier same-sex parents, at least for a time, They
see them as powerful, wise, and ideal.
Normal development allows for a gradual disappointment in our
parents. If you’re a parent you know that, sooner or later, you’re
going to blow it. You cannot possibly be the perfect mom or dad
your kids want you to be. So eventually, to some degree, they will
be disappointed in you just as, to some degree, you have been
disappointed in your own parents.
That is actually good for us, because through disappointment we
become more realistic and mature. We learn through this
disappointment to accept people’s limitations. And so a child’s
ideal image of his father or mother gradually changes to a more
realistic viewpoint. As he grows, he is able to see his parents’
imperfections, but since he is growing emotionally as well as
physically, he can handle the knowledge that they are not perfect.
That is basic process: As we grow, biologically and emotionally, we
learn to accept hard realities like death, injustice, and our
parents’ imperfections. The more we mature, the better able we are
to let go of our early idealism.
At times, through, this process is aborted by early trauma. If a
child is shocked by a sudden rejection from a parent or a parent’s
early disappearnace, he might not have the capacity to handle the
loss. Instead of gradually relinquishing the ideal image he had of
his father, he may cling to it, hoping to someday find it again in
somebody else.
3. Same-sex deficits. There is a period of life, usually between
early childhood and preadolescence, during which we almost
exclusively seek out members of our own sex. Boys cluster with
boys, and girls cling to each other. Sometimes kids express an
almost-lighthearted contempt for each other. Little boys think
girls are “weird”; the girls think the little boys have “cooties.”
That’s normal, even necessary. Our identity as male or female is
solidified when we bond with our own gender. Only when our need for
bonding with the same sex has been fulfilled can we move on to
relationships with the opposite sex.
During this period I believe there are three kinds of relationships
with our own sex that we especially need: a nurturer, a mentor, and
a comrade.
Our same-sex nurturer will usually be our parent of the same sex.
This parent welcomes us to bond with him, making us feel
comfortable and accepted in his presence. Our relationship with him
is marked by physical affection, play, and intimate caring. He
delights in us, giving us a sense of specialness. As we become
secure in his love, we develop an early conviction that we’re okay
as males or females, perfectly acceptable and lovable to our
same-sex nurturer and therefore to other members of our own
sex.
Our same-sex mentor may also be a parent, or perhaps an instructor,
coach, music teacher, older child, or any adult figure who takes a
special interest in us. Through our mentor we are gradually
initiated into our gender role. No matter what technical role our
mentor plays (teacher, coach, big brother, etc.) our relationship
with him increases our confidence with members of our sex outside
of our family. His relationship is less nurturing and more
instructional. He expects more out of us than our nurturer and
challenges us to further develop our masculinity. He provides us
with a sort of “rite of passage.”
Same-sex comrades are vital to a healthy personality. Our comrades
mirror us, compete with us, bond with us, and make us feel like
“one of the guys.” We grow with them, sharing our experiences of
school, puberty, dating, social struggles, and so forth. They
stabilize us. And our relationship with comrades spurs us on,
because we inevitably compare ourselves to them, creating a healthy
competition. Through our comrades we learn to feel good about
ourselves and comfortable with our own sex.
If we lack any or all of these relationships, we develop what
psychologist Elizabeth Moberly calls “same-sex deficits.” In her
book Homosexuality: A New Christian Ethic she stresses the
importance of same-sex love between parent and child, and theorizes
that the homosexual urge is an attempt to make up for deficiencies
in the early father-son, mother-daughter relationship.
Because of those deficiencies, a child may feel that the normal
avenues for same-sex love (nurturing, mentoring, comradeship) are
not available to him. He thinks, because of parental rejections,
that he is not qualified to engage in normal friendships with his
peers. This prohibits the very thing he needs the most: love from
and closeness to members of the same sex. He wants it so badly, yet
he feels that if he tries to get it he will experience further
rejection. This leaves him in a quandary: legitimate same-sex
intimacy has become the thing he wants the most, yet he avoids the
normal activities that provide it because he feels as though any
attempts to participate in those activities will fail, leaving him
lonely and in pain.
He responds with what Moberly calls “defensive detachment.” He
detaches himself from his peers and the parent of the same sex
because attempting to relate to them causes him pain. Although such
relating could be the source of healing for him, he sees it as
threatening, avoiding it because he refuses to reexperience the
hurt he is sure will come.
He may comfort himself with isolation or by devaluing his father
and peers (”They’re jerks anyway. Who needs them?”), often
rejecting the very masculinity they symbolize. In a way, this
protective device works well. By taking no chances, he avoids
further rejection. At least he remains emotionally safe.
But his “safety zone” of isolation doesn’t kill his ever-deepening
need for intimacy. In fact, the more he isolates himself, the
stronger that need grows. This is not homosexuality, mind you;
rather, it is the legitimate, normal need for bonding that all of
us have experienced. In this case, though, the need has grown and
remained unsatisfied. In each of the above cases, certain emotional
responses were influenced by the perceptions a child had of
himself, his parents, and others of his sex. And these responses
inevitably gave way to deep and unsatisfied needs. Emotional
response to early perceptions, whether they take the form of gender
identity problems, idealized images, or same-sex deficits, leave a
child with specific needs for intimacy with his own sex.