Have You Ever Thought About Your Sexuality as Wearing Someone’s Perfume by Chance?

Imagine someone you’d hug—your partner, a close friend, someone you’d lean into without hesitation. Maybe not a stranger or that colleague who never ventures past a stiff nod. But someone safe enough to hold for just a moment.

So, you hug them. What’s left behind? A faint trace of their scent clinging to you, lingering on your skin or clothes. Maybe you barely notice it. Or maybe it surprises you, makes you want to wash it off immediately, like an uninvited guest overstaying its welcome.

But let’s say you don’t mind it. Maybe you even like it—enough to wonder what it might feel like to wear the same scent yourself. Captivating, curious, enticing… yet still theirs, isn’t it?

This is how we often pick up sexual patterns that don’t belong to us. Not consciously, but through proximity—through desire, connection, or the quiet pressure to adapt. Someone shares their kink, their preference, their rhythm, and you try it on, thinking it might fit. But does it really? Or is it just a borrowed scent you’ve convinced yourself belongs on your skin?

Noticing What You’ve Taken On

Sexuality can get layered by expectations in ways you don’t even notice. A suggestion here, a habit there, the unspoken pull of someone else’s needs. At first, it might feel like exploration—curious, exciting, new. But over time, it can turn into something else. Mimicry. Compliance. A quiet denial of what you truly want.

This isn’t to say curiosity is wrong. Far from it. Trying new things is part of growth, but only when the “trying” doesn’t overshadow your voice. Too often, we say yes without asking whether we even want to—or whether we’re just going along to keep someone else happy.

What’s left behind when the dust settles? Discomfort? A sense that something doesn’t quite sit right? These moments aren’t random. They’re signals. Indicators that the patterns you’ve adopted may not be yours at all.

Claiming What’s Yours

So how much of your sexuality feels like your own? When was the last time you stopped to ask—not what someone else expects, but what you actually desire? What draws you in without influence? What feels natural, true, and fully yours?

This isn’t a simple process. It means noticing the borrowed layers you’ve been wearing, the ones you’ve grown used to but never truly chosen. It takes patience, honesty, and sometimes the courage to admit that what you’ve been doing isn’t working for you anymore.

Letting Go of the Borrowed Scents

Sexuality evolves, but only when you let it. If you cling to patterns that feel safe but stifle your voice, there’s no room for anything new to take root. The key is learning to notice what feels heavy or out of place—and then daring to let it go.

That might look like questioning a habit you’ve held onto for years. Or saying no to something you’ve always said yes to, just to see what happens. It’s not about ripping everything apart overnight, but about small, deliberate choices—steps toward what feels fully your own.

And when you do? When you let go of what no longer serves you, what’s left is yours. Unmistakably yours. No borrowed rhythms, no lingering traces of someone else. Just the kind of intimacy that feels authentic—like slipping into a scent that becomes an extension of your skin, yours in every possible way.

Sexuality, like a perfect fragrance, is far from trends or someone else’s preferences. It opens you up, something that grounds you in yourself, something that feels so right it doesn’t need to be questioned. 

Let that guide you. Let that be your own.

Pats,
Anya🫰🏽