Trautism

I got the most beautiful demonstration of shock and awe when casually listening to “As It Was” gave me a nearly earth-shattering orgasm out of nowhere. While I can appreciate Harry Styles and definitely like some of his songs, I wouldn’t describe myself as a particularly big fan. I also haven’t been a very sexual person thus far in my life, mostly due to my husband’s debilitating ailments. And despite my various intense sensitivities, I haven’t found myself intrigued by ASMR videos or similar sensory stimulations. So what the hell happened? Was I just that thirsty and didn’t know it?! 

The erotic moment seemed completely random, striking several years ago as I got ready for bed. It felt like an immediate collision of a waking dream and a wet dream, but without any conscious content. I’d heard this particular Harry Styles song plenty of times before – staying true to the autistic stereotype of listening to the same songs and playlists on repeat – and at no point did I react with the slightest tickle or warmth to indicate any significant sexual interest had been piqued. This was also true for seeing images of Harry. 

My older sister had found herself in the popular club of middle-aged women smitten by the charisma of Harry’s crooning, cartwheeling, and sequined shirts – not to mention that devilish grin. Wondering if this might be a fun new thing we have in common, I took a deep dive to find out if I could join in the swooning. (Part of his novelty is that we had missed the One Direction craze, with my sis being a young GenXer and me being an older Millennial.) The verdict? Nope. Harry’s a good-looking guy for sure. Obviously he works hard and has a lot of talent. Yet despite seeming genuinely thoughtful, humorous, and creative too, he just didn’t seem to ring my bell. Alas. Different strokes for different folks, right? 

So yes, admittedly, I’d explored sexy thoughts about Harry and then was listening to his music. However it was easily months after my expedition into his fandom that I got my amazing gift wrapped in Mr. Styles paper. By then my conscious mind had forgotten all about my previous musings; his song was just another jam in my Spotify world. And while I’m a curious person and have deliberated on many topics related to sexuality and attraction, I don’t find myself dealing with lustful thoughts or feelings when looking at celebrities or other hot people. Objective appreciation is one thing; recognizing and cultivating my own amorous feelings is a different journey altogether. 

Anyway, I’d been having a pretty standard evening before my big O. My family and I had dined at our favorite Indian restaurant, where I’d had a glass or two of sparkling wine, followed up by some CBD and other relaxing chemicals when I got home. This put me in a nicely fuzzy mindset, common for bedtime during that era of my life. Not only did the mood-altering substances add to the fun of bopping around the bathroom as I got cleaned up for the night, but critically they calmed my racing thoughts once I laid down for sleep. 

After washing my face without incident, I switched to oral hygiene, and the tunes of “As It Was” began flowing from my phone. In retrospect, I can see how my posture and the placement of my phone were different than normal. The phone haphazardly perched on the edge of the sink, with its bottom hanging over the side facing the drain. And maybe my efforts with the toothpaste had gotten unruly, as I bent over the sink instead of standing upright as I typically did, which put my face unusually close to both the faucet and the phone’s speaker. 

Thankfully bending at the waist like that allowed me to catch myself when Harry’s tsunami hit me. “In this world, it’s just us…” One moment I was thoughtlessly brushing my teeth, and then the next my knees were buckling under my weight. As my legs turned to jelly, a red hot wave suddenly crested from my depths, instantly overtaking me from within. Something between a cry and a moan erupted from my mouth as I collapsed against the counter, shaking with ecstasy and grabbing the edges for stability. I stayed there for several minutes, panting heavily with a mix of shock, wonder, and pleasure as the sensual tide ebbed away. 

The physical effects would have surely been even more profound had their unexpected nature not been so distracting. As strong as the sensations were, I know my stunned curiosity blunted whatever lovely gift was so unceremoniously bestowed upon me. I stood up and tried to make sense of it all.

After such a disorienting situation, the first step is a basic reality check. Looking in the mirror confirmed I was still the me that I know, in a life I recognized – excellent news. I was also happy to see this confusion wasn’t owing to a heart attack or a stroke, as a thorough check of my body and its systems revealed normally healthy functions, minus the parts of me that were still recalibrating from all the excitement. They proved to be acting as expected for my nearly postcoital state, which served as welcome confirmation that my experience had actually happened in the physical realm and was not merely a sensual fabrication of my mind. 

Once I consciously accepted my passionate outburst as fact, I began to unpack it. As I noted earlier, the placement of my phone was slightly unusual – instead of being completely on the counter, the bottom of it hung off the edge, towards the bowl of the sink. Did that resonance produce a uniquely arousing acoustic effect? And while I’ve leaned closely over the sink on other late nights, the phone’s speaker was not usually so close to my face. Maybe the central location of my face and the speaker together created a provocative little amphitheater with the power to overwhelm me? 

My mind turned to the conversations I’d had with my sister. Those talks and the resulting research must’ve primed me, at least somewhat, to respond sexually to his music even though I didn’t feel affected by them. Plus this song had a characteristic that had caught my attention as potentially alluring, owing to a randy comment from my first husband about Selena Gomez’s soft vocals – here Harry’s voice strikes the perfect balance between gently soothing and smokingly sultry, especially when he hits the line that apparently unraveled me. I had noticed it before, but only academically, or at least so I thought. 

This might not have been so much about me, though. I’ve been discovering I’m quite sensitive to the energies of other people. In my compromised condition, could I have been subconsciously channeling the lust of all those other women I had learned about? I’d love to know how many other people were listening to the song at the same time, and what they were thinking and feeling. And since we’re on this more esoteric train of thought, did I temporarily dial into an ASMR sensitivity that wasn’t mine? Or perhaps I have a sensitivity after all, and this was it peeking its head out from the thick layers of trauma and autism that tend to obscure my sensory and emotional processing landscapes. 

One other theory could be a bigger stretch, but in the spirit of anything being possible, it’s worth mentioning. Maybe, just maybe, Harry’s record is like the music in Josie and the Pussycats (2001), where subliminal messages get baked into songs without the artists’ knowledge. And I’ve been known to have unexpectedly ultra sensitive, acute reactions to various stimuli. Could his production team be covertly seducing leagues of unsuspecting listeners with cheap tricks? Potentially, but that hardly seems necessary when I look objectively at the evidence… although how objectively can I really assess it at this point, if I ever did? Hahaha. 

Sometimes I wonder what this experience would have been like if I’d been more prepared to welcome it. When Jennifer Aniston’s character got overwhelmed by similarly mysterious pleasure in Bruce Almighty, she had the context for getting herself ready to have a romantic encounter with her boyfriend, so she leaned right into it. I did not; although interestingly enough, seeing that part of the movie could have planted a seed of possibility in my subconscious that suddenly sprouted into my reality without warning. 

It would be fun to get in the mood and try to replicate this wild phenomenon for the sake of realizing a greater potentiality, but I’m more interested in solving the riddle of what manufactured such an intriguing sexual anomaly in my life. It’s most likely a confluence of factors I won’t get to fully comprehend, like the forces that shape rogue waves in the ocean. This required the perfect alignment of factors that are probably too subtle and numerous to imitate. 

And hey, some gifts aren’t meant to be questioned or duplicated, so maybe this is one of them. Cheers to you, though, Harry Styles – I’m clearly a bigger fan than I thought! I’d be happy to buy you a drink next time you’re in the USA!