Madonna/Whore Complex

I don't know if I should preface this with some kind of warning, but this is about sex , there, you've been warned. 

So I have this problem . . . with sex. The only thing that I can even use to describe it is the Madonna/Whore Complex, I want to be seen (and I see myself) as this virginal creature, kind of naive and innocent. And then there are times when hormones are raging, or when I'm submerged in my own sexuality, and these are feelings that I cherish, that feel wonderful . . . until afterward. The Madonna can't be the Whore, so I have this issue reconciling who I really am. When in all actuality, its just another aspect of me. We all have a side that is sexually released, away from the prying eyes of society (and sometimes within the public view, and even then we are "okay" with it). 

There is just something about the afterglow that feels more like a tragic hangover. I think it is because I am afraid of what I would actually be if I was just one person, not segments. Or maybe I'm just ashamed of myself, maybe it is the shame of society lurking in upon me, maybe all of the faking and smiling and "owning it" that I do in public has no actual bearing on how I actually feel. I think it is because of the tragedy of it all. It just feels like my mind switches off during "sex" and I become a creature of instinct, but then I'm kind of ashamed for losing my civility and I reprimand myself for losing control. But I would feel the same way, in varying degrees, if I ate an entire cake by myself or if I yelled at someone, or lost control in some other way.  So I don't know if it is a matter of controlling myself or realizing that this is just a part of myself that I will have to accept completely. Its not the "sex" that I dislike, it is the after feeling, like I've done something wrong. I've researched this before, and apparently its a common thing. Social stigma etc, from masturbation. Or maybe I just put too much thought and emphasis on it, but that's just the kind of person that I am . . . I like to think, I like to ruminate, I like to feel things, but what does this really mean? Post-coital is like waking up from a spell, like, snapping out of some heady sexually laced trance, Maybe its just my inner Sadie, chastising me for not waiting for love. And if that's the case, then I just need to get over it, right? 

I need to give a pass to the Madonna, forgive the Whore and just be happy. But, its a lot harder than it sounds. 

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