Why my Romance-Poetry Series is Full of Explicit Sexuality

Like I said in my first blog post, I write what I like to read. However, most of the sex in the romance novels I’ve read is highly unrealistic. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not looking to escapism romance with an appetite for disappointment and a harsh taste of reality. But it never ceases to annoy me when the shy and inexperienced heroine gets hot and heavy with the selfish bad boy, who magically knows exactly how, when and where to touch her and never fails to give her an earth-shattering orgasm in less than five minutes with little to no foreplay, emotional connection, or level of trust.

The superficial nature of the sexual exchanges in romance novels takes away all the excitement for me. I know for certain that the heroine will experience an out-of-this world climax every single time, that every touch of the bad boy’s hands will be pure bliss, that the heroine will feel nothing but pleasure and delight the entire time. And that bores me to death.

I want angst mixed in with the sex. I want conflict—her heart battling against her mind, her nerves triggering her fight or flight response, both numbing her body and making her high on the thrill of the danger and the unknown. I don’t want her to climax every time, but I want her to wonder if she did. I want the bad boy’s true character to be revealed in the way that he puts himself first, how he doesn’t have the patience or the desire to try and figure her out, so he does whatever he likes, even if it’s not what she prefers, how she probably doesn’t even know what her preferences are anyway, how she feels excited but also lonely or used or sad while she’s naked and sweaty, pressed up against his abs.

I wanted to see parts of myself in her, especially as I began to explore my own sexuality. I learned that just because you’re doing something sexual, it doesn’t mean it’s always pleasurable, or even interesting. I’ve had moments in bed with a handsome lover where I was bored out of my mind, annoyed with his bland insistence on trying to get me off. On the other hand, I’ve had moments where I was more sexually elated than I’d ever been in my life, but at the same time, the broken shards of my heart were stabbing me through the chest because I felt nothing for my lover, while I was missing my ex with such passion that the sexual flames in my body seemed ice cold in comparison and were quickly extinguished by the pain.

Through the sex scenes in my series, I want to show this range and depth of emotion. Because sex isn’t a flawless performance, as it often comes across in porn or erotica—which I believe to be closely interconnected—but that’s another blog post. Real sex is often a journey through the deepest parts of ourselves, crossing paths with our demons, our past clashing with our present, our expectations clashing with reality. And I want my readers to be able to relate.

Due to its highly sexual, and at times, kinky nature, I believe my series may offend certain people, especially more conservative Christians. I’m aware that premarital sexual experiences go against my Christian beliefs; however, countless unmarried Christians partake in these activities, and I believe that what we need is more dialogue on the topic, not less.

I think it would help young people to find deeper fulfilment if, instead of being bombarded for their whole lives by the broken record: Don’t have sex, we told them stories about how empty we felt when we were drawn to sexual experiences because we were feeling lonely and looking for love, if we shared our experiences behind the complex emotional and intellectual reasonings that lead to sex, as well as the physiological and emotional effects of sexual bonding. Because knowledge is power, and I believe that storytelling is the most powerful, inspiring and empathetic teacher.

I personally have been scarred and hurt by certain sexual decisions I’ve made, and to this day, I still have baggage that gets in the way. That will all be covered in the later books in the series, but my point is, the answer is always to talk more, not less. How many young people have left the church because they felt that they couldn’t relate with the countless rules and judgements that were forced upon them? How much better would it be if we all talked more about sex, the good, the bad and the ugly? How much could it influence and strengthen our young people, Christian and non Christian alike, as they walk the confusing path of sexuality and self-discovery?

I want my readers to feel seen, understood, to know that they’re not alone. I want to share my experiences, dancing in the fire of sexuality without love, without emotional connection, through open or casual relationships and how it drove me mad, how I felt like a cocaine addict with rollercoaster highs and shattering lows, how I hated that man, my just-out-of-reach lover who refused to give me emotional connection, and yet at the same time, I felt like I loved him more than anything else in the world, and that I didn’t deserve to ask him for more since I refused to give him ‘all-the-way’ sex. I was in both agony and ecstasy, and I felt like I couldn’t live without him.

My series dives into psychology to shed light on many common issues including what I was going through: Emotional addiction, attachment theory, trauma bonds, inner child wounds, “daddy issues”—so many issues that are tied into sexuality but almost never directly talked about. I want these sex scenes to be an exploration of not only sexuality but also of psychology, emotionality, spirituality and everything in-between.

Finally, in the later books in the series, I want to talk not only about the conflict and the confusion of sex, but also of the beauty, the joy, the connection that sex can bring, that sex with love is a fortifying bond providing hope, understanding, strength, support and love. I want to talk about the realities of sex in a long term relationship and address what I believe to be myths: that the excitement dies after two years, that men are not biologically wired for monogamy, that porn is harmless, that women don’t enjoy sex as much as men do. I want to talk about all the taboo things in oozing, gushing details.

I wouldn’t recommend my series to anyone who is uncomfortable with graphic sex—this series is written for those who are. Because in this romance-poetry series, I want to tell it all: from first-time exploration into the world of seduction and desire, through casual dating, toxic relationships, to marriage and stability, gouging into the emotions, the psychology, the physicality. These books aren’t just carnal for the sake of being carnal—they’re carnal in order to reach through to the heart of it, the intellectual, the emotional, the spiritual. Because that’s what sex is, all of these aspects rolled up into one pulsing, messy, liberating, invigorating thing.

Sex is the point of connection. Sex is the way into the soul.