The other day I read a post by the wonderful, articulate and talented Rachel Kramer Bussel on Thought Catalog. I’ve read her tweets, her stories and plenty of collections she’s edited. In fact, I will soon be published in one of those very collections! Her recent piece “Sorry, But I’m Not A Sexpert” was as well-written as any. But it was was than that.
To me, the words my eyes were absorbing were like something I could have written. I wouldn’t dare to compare myself to Rachel, who has years of experience and has done more to make a career from her love of writing and sex than I ever might. But the thoughts in those paragraphs spoke to me nonetheless.
There are certainly some people who would call Ms. Bussel an expert in her own way, but she dispels the idea that her longevity and interest alone are enough to make her a sexpert. She goes on to explain how she feels more like a student than a teacher, and while people might learn something from her, she’s focusing on sharing her ideas, opinions and experiences with the world as a person who loves sex.
She will “play” with words to tell of her life and fantasies and to lend advice when appropriate, but it’s all based on her own experiences and nothing about it makes her an expert. And that’s okay.
I was particularly struck by this line:
There are plenty of amazing, smart, talented and dedicated sex educators out there who rightly deserve the title of sexpert.
What I hope to offer readers is something else: amateur honesty.
Rachel Kramer Bussel calls herself an amateur. Albeit an honest one, but an amateur nonetheless! And that’s still okay. If Rachel doesn’t need to be an expert, then I sure the hell don’t.
I think I really needed to read this post as my brokenhearted love life and nonexistent sex life — I’ve masturbated twice in approximately two months — had me wondering why I still have this blog. What could I offer to the world? What words can I type on the screen that haven’t already been said? And if I can’t say it better, should I even bother?
But here I am, overlooking the one difference that no one — not even I — can deny: I am me. There are no other mes in this world. So while I may not be able to write about Peachy escorts in London — at least, not yet — or sex rooms in Amsterdam, I can unapologetically stand up for a sex toy that I love. Or speak out against transphobia. Or offer a little advice based on my own experience as a human being who loves and fucks.
I toyed with calling this post “Rachel Kramer Bussel is who I want to be when I grow up.” And it’s not entirely untrue. But it also misses one of the points of her recent post: her value as an “amateur” extends directly from her individuality as a human being. To quote her again:
No, not everyone wants to share their sex lives, but for those who do, their stories are fascinating not because they know everything there is to know about a given sexual topic, but because they are individuals.
So I shouldn’t aim to be another person when I grow up. Rather, I should try to be me. Just, perhaps, a me who understands that it’s okay not to have all the answers. Like Rachel Kramer Bussel, I might help people find them, but I don’t have to pretend to have them all, even answers about my own life.
