Guilt

For as long as I recall, my sexuality has been intertwined with guilt. (Hence this blog’s title.) For years this guilt inhibited me from expressing myself sexually. According to a book entitled The Erotic Mind, this same guilt may be fueling my behavior. Author Jack Morin writes that “the erotic equation” includes “the interplay of impulse and restriction,” for “whatever tries to block our urges can also intensify them.” Guilt, paradoxically, can be an aphrodisiac.

“Guilt is the price paid for the privilege of continuing to be bad.”

Robert Stoller

A few months ago, I wrote about a rabbi who argues in an article entitled “Guilty Pleasures” that sexual desire can be intensified by the imposition of rules designed to restrict it. The guilt produced by the violation of prohibitions, Morin says, can be an erotic charge. A repressive religious upbringing is especially conducive to being aroused by violating prohibitions. “Those who grow up in sexually restrictive environments are almost certain to discover the erotic potential of breaking the rules.” Morin summarizes this dynamic as “the thrill of naughtiness” and sketches out a cycle of arousal:

ATTRACTION → GUILT → EXCITEMENT → REMORSE → ATTRACTION

Disobedience demonstrates that desire overrides prohibition. Sexologist Robert Stoller writes, “Guilt is not the price paid for being bad but the price paid for the privilege of continuing to be bad.”

“I was raised Catholic so I know a little something about guilt,” writes one sex worker. As a “recuperated Catholic,” she confesses to feeling residual chronic guilt. It hasn’t prevented her from pursuing her work. “I now give in to my deep lust.” She’s discovered that “sometimes guilt can be an erotic accelerant.”

She couldn’t look me in the eye. The arousal fueled by illicit desire had dissipated. Her face was frozen in despondency. We had just egregiously sinned. The air felt heavy as I dressed. This is the last time, I promised myself. Guilt consumed me afterwards. We had abandoned ourselves “to sensuality so as to indulge in every kind of impurity” (Eph 4:19). But it wasn’t long before I started to get turned on again. The forbidden fruit lay between her legs, and it held a magnetic attraction. That night I sent her a text….

My eroticism is primarily defined by the drama of transgression. It’s fueled by an inner conflict between the anti-sexual restrictions imposed on me (or I have imposed on myself) and the desire to break free of those restrictions. During sex there’s an incredible sense of liberation as I allow my secret sexual alter-ego to express itself in contradiction to those repressed aspects of my personality. Then after the ecstasy comes the agony, sometimes as soon as I’ve orgasmed. Remorse overwhelms me as the erotic haze lifts, and I can’t escape the aftermath of my transgression. “My sin is ever before me.”

Until I’m aroused by the thought of doing it again.