Given the centrality of the human need to belong and establish attachment, it comes as no surprise that it might constitute a primary function of a sexual relationship.26 There is a drive to belong, and attachment reflects the quality of the associated intimacy. Ideally, significant relationships are characterised by both belonging and attachment, and this is especially true for sexual relationships. There is a sense of mutual identification, closeness, acceptance and embrace that has a different quality in such relationships than in other relationships, because of the unique physical sharing of self that does not occur in other relationships. Besides this, there is a cooperative component involving mutual consent and the fulfilling of various needs and desires not fulfilled in non-sexual relationships. In fact, for many people such relationship represents both the goal and proper integration for their sexual expression.
It is the difference between sexual expression within relationship and that occurring casually that had left Karl vaguely dissatisfied after his visit to the prostitute. Whatever Karl thought he wanted, he didn’t get. Even though he could buy sex, she was not for sale. He didn’t get her or what she might have represented to him. He glimpsed her femaleness, but didn’t encounter her as a person. He gave nothing of himself except money and his body: she gave nothing of herself except her time and her body for sexual performance. Perhaps he needed to express and explore his masculinity, and he needed the femaleness of a woman to do so. Karl was not attracted to a male prostitute; this was not the focus of his need or desire. Even though he didn’t know the woman, it was the woman he thought he wanted. But all he got was a sexual encounter: the enactment of his sexual fantasy, a reassurance of his maleness, and the temporary amelioration of his sexual tension. Oddly, although he knew from the beginning what the deal was, the experience stimulated something else: it stimulated a vague desire for more of her and of her femaleness, to have her indefinitely and exclusively, and perhaps connect with her more deeply. Multiple drives were at work.
Karl knew he would come again even though this experience had left him feeling vaguely depersonalised and disconnected. His identity as a person had been irrelevant, and she would never belong to him, or he to her. He felt ‘short-changed’. The event was not without consequence. From the prostitute Karl learned that ‘loving care’ did not mean loving care at all; and that sex had nothing to do with the ‘giving’ by the woman of herself to him. He learned about deception and pretence; he learned meanings of the sexual event that left him empty and cynical; he learned about a world of unfulfilled promises. The sexual experience came to have negative associations for him. He was disillusioned and lonely. Nevertheless, he kept her number and knew he would probably be back. Although he was conflicted, the sex he had purchased for his masculinity had been pleasurable in itself; it had given him release, and she had done nothing wrong by him. She was a good business woman and had kept to the agreement. For Karl, his confusion related to a mixed drive profile that also included unmet needs to connect and belong.
On belonging: Further considerations
What does it mean to ‘belong’ in a sexual relationship? We might think of belonging as having a shared history or shared values with someone else, things in common, promoting a sense of connection: ‘I belong to this person because we both came from the same town and we both love fishing.’ Alternatively, to belong might involve a sense of ownership: ‘She belongs to me because I have invested so much in her.’27 Then again, to ‘belong’ might mean that I have a role or place that fits a specific need or purpose: for example, ‘you belong in our organisation (that is, you have this role) because of the particular skills you have.’ In each case, we see that ‘belonging’ is a relational notion, reflecting some investment, connection, obligation, meaning or role in a relationship. Each nuance of meaning may also find its way into a sexual relationship.
To better grasp this idea, consider my relationship with my mind and body. I normally experience my mind (here I mean my perceptions, thinking and emotions) as belonging to me — that is, belonging to my subjective inner self,28 just as my body belongs to me. I normally protect myself (my mind and body) and maintain the integrity of my uniqueness and separateness from others (other minds and bodies). For example, I protect my body by clothing it, shielding it from pressure and harm, and guarding it from unwanted and invasive eyes and touch.29 I do this because my body is private territory, my ‘home’: it is not just a physical body indifferent to the effects of the physical world and the presence of others as a dead body might be. It is ‘owned’ by me; it belongs to me — that is, to my inner self. I have an intimate relationship with my body, expressing myself through it, embracing it, looking after it, protecting it, and investing in it. There is a union between me and my mind and body, but also autonomy and separateness of my mind and body from others: my mind and body belong only to me. One might argue such exclusivity (that is, that it belongs only to me) to be an inherent right.30 Nevertheless, given my mind and body belong to me, I have a right to choose to share these with another person. And to the extent that my inner self is expressed through my mind and body, then, when I share my mind and body with somebody else, I also share my inner self.
How can sex associate with ‘belonging’? When I choose to share my body sexually with a person, it is not just one body encountering another body — each reacting physiologically to the other, giving energy and life to the other — but it is also our inner selves doing so, finding expression in each body’s activity, giving and receiving, and (ideally) at the same time discovering and enjoying subjectively the inner self of the other person.31 In this way, both selves are changed by the encounter, a change imprinted on the brains and inner worlds represented by our respective bodies. In effect, I am giving both of my inner self and my body, and in return, I am receiving from the other person both their body and inner self.32 We become vulnerable to each other, each trusting that what has been given to the other will be treasured and protected, just as each treasures and protects what was given. This shared investment and the intense experiences associated with the sexual relationship bond us together and typically generate a sense of mutual belonging. And so it is not surprising to find that high relationship satisfaction is strongly associated with high sexual satisfaction — it is a bi-directional relationship.33
In a sexual encounter the physical interpersonal boundaries maintaining separateness are removed, and the respective bodies become shared territory. The body of the other person for that moment comes to belong to me as much as my own body belongs to me — in a sense we share ownership. Two ‘homes’ become one shared ‘home’: we are joined together. I enjoy the other body as much as I do mine, just as I protect the other body as I do mine. And again, the other person equally enjoys and protects my body as they do their own. The mutual vulnerability this creates needs protective factors. It requires interpersonal sensitivity, trust, and a mutual commitment to each other’s wellbeing (that is, love for one another), so that the shared ‘home’ remains a safe and beneficial place to be.
The sense of belonging is not just momentary: a union is created.34 From now on, if someone else should approach the other (shared) mind and body threatening to take it from me, I may be provoked to jealousy or anger — I view it as someone invading our shared territory and home.35 Indeed, if the relationship is under threat, sexual intimacy may be activated to ensure closeness and reassurance, and to ensure the integrity of the relationship.36 Once I kept my mind and body separate from others; now I want to keep our minds and bodies separate from others. The sense of belonging insists on