The best books for neurotic hypersexuals looking to overcome sexual shame

This is THE book for neurotic hypersexuals. It set the genre. I think it’s wild, brilliant, horny, thoughtful, introspective, delusional, and absurd at the same time. I mean, for the love of God, there’s no plot! It’s the protagonist (Alex Portnoy) rambling to a psychologist about his clear Oedipal Complex. The man is torn, trying to be a good Jewish boy who betters the world, but he has some nasty sexual desires (and messed-up feelings about his sexual partners) that are holding him back. 

This book is one of my obsessions. (It’s fitting, given the obsessive nature of the book.) Ironically, I felt really seen and sane while reading it. No, I’m not as neurotic and horny as Alex, but boy, do I struggle with some of the same obsessive thought patterns as that man!

While some aspects of our sexuality are innate, many are born through pivotal sexual experiences in our lives. This book breaks this down and encourages readers to unpack where their sexual desires came from so they can remove shame and have healthy sexual relationships. 

It encouraged me to be introspective about the root of my desires. For so long, I had steered clear of this. I believed that feeling the need to understand the origin of our desires was coming from a place of sex-negativity, an attempt to “justify” our current sexual behavior, which I don’t think requires justification. 

But after reading Morin’s book, I felt I understood my sexual desires better than ever before, and it led to me having more meaningful, passionate, and wild sex.

I loved this collection of fictional essays. Each story wasn’t just “hot” and “smutty;” they had a larger message. One story spoke to power dynamics, while another addressed shame or the desire to be loved, etc.

Sexuality, desire, and arousal are so complex and individual, and I feel like this book explored so much. It really “went there.” Through reading these fictional stories, I felt empowered to do more sexually and push the boundaries of what sex can mean to me. 

I lost my fucking mind reading this book—and I mean this in the best way imaginable. Yamas briefly became the largest meth and GHB dealer for the gay community in San Francisco. It looks at the underground Chemsex (chemical sex) scene in the gay community and details how meth destroys lives. 

I found the book heartbreaking because these gay men are so hurt and so desperate for love and validation, and the only way they can find it is through doing drugs and having sex with strangers. Don’t get me wrong, it can be hot, empowering, and even therapeutic to do drugs and have anonymous sex, but it was not for these men. As someone who’s struggled with drug use and, at times, relied on drugs and alcohol to have sex and intimacy, this book really spoke to me. 

This is my favorite book about non-monogamy and polyamory; it uses attachment theory to explain our relationship dynamics. I particularly loved how detailed the book was. She described some of the self-destructive and less-than-ideal behaviors and thoughts I’ve had in past non-monogamous relationships and explained, “Okay, here’s why you’re likely doing this, and here’s how you become secure enough to do this stupid shit, no longer.”

I remember feeling very motivated after reading Fern’s book, as if I had an action plan for future relationships. Now—and hopefully, I’m not jinxing it here—I’m in the healthiest non-monogamous relationship I’ve ever been in.