SEX:ED: No Sex in the Cuddle Room


You mean, like, spooning?”

SEX:ED is a column in which NAILED's Reyna Kohl steps very much outside her comfort zone to seek enlightenment on human intimacy and sexuality.

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Lady, i will touch you with my mind.
Touch you and touch and touch
until you give
me suddenly a smile, shyly obscene

– e.e. cummings

Today, I am a puppy. I want to be touched, to be pet. You do not have to ask me every time before you lay your hands on me; I am open to any non-sexual touch. If I were a cat, one would have to ask my permission before every touch; before a back rub, or a hug, or a squeeze of the arm. Today, I am different than I was yesterday. Today, I attended a cuddle party. I spooned with a stranger, I gazed into another stranger's eyes. Just today, I found out about cats and puppies.

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It's not as easy as you might think to find yourself a situation in which holding and caressing strangers is the crux. When I started searching, it seemed the cuddle party pool had been dry for awhile. You would think that through the chilly winter and into early spring would be prime snuggle season, but maybe people prefer to snuggle when running hot, so there are fewer items of clothing to pet and hug through. Also, most of the events require that one first attend an orientation, so as to learn how to touch properly, consensually, positively. The orientations are few and far between.

Initially, my application for membership in Touch Positive Oregon (the name of which suddenly changed to Oregon Touch), was rejected, I assume because I tried to skirt the rules by using a drawing I had made of a woman projectile vomiting a rainbow as my profile picture. They saw right through that, it seems, as I received an email within a couple of hours informing me that I had not been accepted into Touch Positive Oregon, but consoling me with a reminder that there are probably plenty of other Meetup groups that would have me.

After some reluctance, I sent a real photo of myself, eventually found a Meetup that was part orientation, part “snuggle-time," and fit it into my schedule. I fearfully lived out the next couple of weeks, counting down days until the gathering.

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I did not want to find the location where this cuddle event was being held. I wished to get lost, suddenly unfamiliar with the city I had been navigating through for the past ten years. I hoped to arrive finding a note on the door saying that the gathering had been canceled. I was angry that I had trapped myself into this. I had been scheming excuses to skip out of it all day at work.

The place wasn't hard to find. I was greeted at the door by a smiling and normal-seeming girl about my age, “Oregon Touch?” I nodded and she directed me upstairs. I paid the $20 cover (yup) and put my things into a cubby. There was ethereal-type music quietly playing and the room smelled of lavender and palo santo wood.

The group began with a brief mention of confidentiality for the snuggle-party community, which gave me some anxiety due to the fact that I had my digital recorder on and discreetly tucked away into my small purse, which I had insisted on bringing into the main “Cuddle Room,” or whatever it's called. I kept expecting it to make a beeping sound of some kind, causing all of those gentle people to turn toward me, anger in their eyes.

We began the evening with an introduction game, in which we each took turns saying our names to the group and making a gesture that was supposed to represent how we felt at that moment, then the group was to repeat the name and the gesture. We mimicked yelps and shoulder shrugs and silently closed eyes. I did jazz hands. I just couldn't think of what else to do. Then, we did what I think was some ecstatic dance, you know, just to shake off the worries of the day. Another pass around the circle to name the animal we identified with on that particular evening, puppy or cat (a mass of several people snuggling together is called a “puppy-pile,” by the way).

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I'd decided to say Yes to everything (within reason), as frightened as I was. Now for a true, micro-summary of my touch-filled evening:

Sitting in a circle with the group of twelve others who are experienced in or curious about cuddling, I was asked, “Would you like to participate in a light-touch activity?” Yes. “Turn to your neighbor and take their hand.” Yes. “Now, if you are comfortable, make eye contact.” Yes.

While in the midst of snuggle-time I was asked, “Would you like to hold hands?” Yes. “Shall we lie down?” Yes. “Do you like to be held?” You mean, like, spooning? Uh, yes? “Can I touch your face?” Not at this time, thank you.

It is important to keep some boundaries. It's also imperative that you do not make someone feel bad for expressing what they want or don't. As it was explained during this event, it's all about mutual desire. That is, as with everything surrounding Oregon Touch, referring to platonic desire. A lot can be learned from this concept. If we paid more attention to each other's wants, more people would be more happy, more often. You might say, it would be a better world. If our society were based (even somewhat) on mutual desire, we would be much more honest with each other, much more in-tune. A stronger sense of empathy would be prevalent between human beings.

By forcing a Yes to everything (within reason), I was not exactly being true to this idea of mutual desire. But, I was being true to my desire to experience as much as I could in this situation, so there's that. And, of course, desire is complicated.

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One of the snugglers (that's what we're calling 'em, okay?) wondered what to do "if one begins to develop sexual energy toward the other person while cuddling?” This is not necessarily referring to erections, which we did go over. The question was: What if I begin to feel sexually attracted to a fellow snuggler, while the energy is meant to remain completely platonic? Someone suggested that you remove yourself from the situation, and take some time to connect with others in the room. Another proposed that if it happens, and if you know it will pass, just allow yourself that wave of feeling.

This whole experience has me trying to understand why it is so difficult to separate the idea of intimacy (especially physical) from sexual or romantic feelings. During the cuddle, I found myself continuously trying to ignore a recurring anxiety: That the man who was holding me, was very quickly developing romantic feelings for me. It might have been the way he caressed my arm, or held my hand, fingers laced through mine, or that at one point, he kissed the back of my head. Earlier in the evening he had admitted that he was only looking to cuddle with women. The thought also came to mind, that many of those who seek out intimacy in this way, may be lacking human connection and touch in their day-to-day lives, so it's plausible that this physical closeness does take on more meaning for them than simply a platonic connection. Most likely though, he was simply getting his necessary dose of Vitamin T, just like everyone else in the room, and basking in a different type of platonic human interaction.

I definitely felt that this snuggler and I had developed a closeness. It was not romantic, though it was very intimate. Once our bodies became intertwined, the conversation began to flow easily. I did not feel self-conscious, I felt I could talk about anything and it all seemed comfortable and natural. It was as if I knew this person very well. Perhaps there exists a true, non-verbal, form of communication that works much more quickly to acquaint people than getting familiar based on speech alone. That might be why people feel such a deep bond with their romantic partners; they share in this touch-talk on a regular basis.

The scientific explanation has, at least partly, to do with chemicals in the brain which are stimulated by touch. The main culprit, Oxytocin, has been referred to as the “Love Hormone,” the “Trust Hormone,” and the “Cuddle Chemical." It is released with orgasm, during breastfeeding, and it is one of the main hormones boosted when under the influence of MDMA, creating a sense of closeness and intimacy with those around you. There is an Oxytocin nasal spray that some people apparently use before going on dates, in order to increase the chances of a connection. There is a spray called “Liquid Trust,” that people spray in their rooms and on their bodies in order to promote a “trustworthy atmosphere.”

There are several health benefits associated with Oxytocin, as well. It lowers stress levels, helps with depression, can ease digestive issues, and may even keep your heart healthy.

Maybe my brain was under the influence of Oxytocin as I walked to my car after I thanked my cuddle-partner and left the party. I was glad I had been a puppy. I felt more relaxed than I have in a long time, while also feeling clear-headed and energized. Though, maybe I was just relieved to have finally gotten it over with, after such excruciating anticipation. Either way, I felt good.

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In the end, I've decided that people should cuddle more often. Sharing intimate moments with people we don't know intimately is an especially strange and unique experience. Why is the idea of touching or looking into a stranger's (or even a friend's) eyes so terrifying? I don't know, but it is. Until you do it. And you actually kinda like it.

SEX:ED número tres: Intro to sex-positivity. Yow!

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Reyna Kohl

Reyna Kohl grew up in a town without sidewalks. It was all dirt and horseshit there. And confederate flags flying from stakes sticking out of folks' front lawns. She stopped begging her parents for a pony after having fallen from a horse's back into a patch of sharp and brittle bamboo around the age of twelve. She never did ask for one of those flags. I think she always sensed that there was something evil to the thick blood-red triangles, biting, incisor-like, over the edges of the white fabric rectangle. Not even the stars could sway her into feeling okay about it, and she really likes stars. She now lives in a sidewalk-y city. Only a little bit of horseshit, though no horses live there. She makes natural perfumes under the name Botica.

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