{"id":31797,"date":"2024-03-03T13:00:45","date_gmt":"2024-03-03T11:00:45","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/?p=31797"},"modified":"2024-03-03T13:00:45","modified_gmt":"2024-03-03T11:00:45","slug":"the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\/","title":{"rendered":"The Fires of Shame; the Burn of Desire"},"content":{"rendered":"
In its outwards eruption, my personality could be described as \u201cincendiary.\u201d But <\/span>not<\/span> in sex with others. No. That is: frustratingly, not where combustibleness would have been most useful.<\/span><\/h5>\n

 <\/p>\n

Joumana Haddad<\/span><\/h4>\n

\u201cGood sex is like a good bridge. If you don\u2019t have a good partner, you\u2019d better have a good hand.\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

Mae West<\/b><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I\u2019ve had many lovers along the years. Some were good, several were bad, a bunch were outright ghastly. The majority were mediocre, and a few \u2014 only two or three, really \u2014 were great; but the best sex I\u2019ve ever had has always been with myself.<\/span><\/p>\n

In the beginning it was because I was shy. I wouldn\u2019t dare voice my desires and my needs, mainly due to the fact that I was ashamed of them. They were my \u201cdirty secret,\u201d at such discordance with what I was taught and raised to believe a decent lady <\/span>should<\/span><\/i> be like, what she <\/span>should<\/span><\/i> want, the way she <\/span>should<\/span><\/i> behave, and the thoughts she was <\/span>allowed<\/span><\/i> to express, that I couldn\u2019t willingly bring myself to share any of my unbridled fantasies with my early partners.<\/span><\/p>\n

My first sexual experience was, quite orthodoxly, with my first husband. I was a twenty-year-old virgin, with countless debauched notions and images in my head because of all the depraved stories I had clandestinely read early on in life, but with zero practical experience \u2014 barely a kiss or two as an adolescent which had made me feel guilty and \u201csoiled\u201d for weeks afterwards.<\/span><\/p>\n

…on the inside, I was a covertly active volcano, just waiting to explode.<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

How does a woman, especially an Arab woman, escape her conservative upbringing and survive it? That is the urgent question I\u2019ve been asking my whole life, even until today. Books surely aren\u2019t enough; nor are movies, nor porn. And all the world\u2019s efforts at soul-searching and self-awareness are, more often than not, insufficient to save that little girl from all the brainwashing, vagina-blaming, slut-shaming and religious, moral and patriarchal incarceration she\u2019s subjected to from birth. It takes a superhuman will and Herculean strength to break the shackles. That is why each and every liberated Arab woman out there who, among other things, owns her body and enjoys it, is a heroine in her own right.<\/span><\/p>\n

In striking contrast, I grew up to be anything but timid in the other, \u201cpublic\u201d fields of life. I gradually developed a strong, untameable and defiant character, one that was reflected in my social behavior, in my views and opinions, and most of all, in my writing. I was provocative, insolent and confrontational. Whether in love, or in work, or in friendships or with family or on paper, I always said what I thought without filters, or the slightest hesitation, or fear of red flags. Was it revenge? Was it expiation? Maybe both, maybe neither. I used to think: \u201cPerhaps I\u2019m simply two people, or more. Aren\u2019t we all?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

If that isn\u2019t denial, I don\u2019t know what is.<\/span><\/p>\n

But it is also the truth.<\/span><\/p>\n

During my childhood, I was what one would call a \u201cgood kid\u201d on the outside. Polite, well-mannered, rather docile, with only a few bursts of rebellion every now and then, masterfully restrained by my strict parents. But on the inside, I was a covertly active volcano, just waiting to explode. A \u201cbad girl\u201d who masturbated to the words of the Marquis de Sade. Instead of being horrified by his vicious stories, they made me horny. When I read <\/span>The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde<\/span><\/i> by Robert Louis Stevenson, I nicknamed myself \u201cJoumana Jekyll.\u201d The same bookish twelve-year-old who had innocent features and went to mass and studied hard and ignored boys and was always among the first in her class was also turned on by indescribable sexual brutality.<\/span><\/p>\n

In its outwards eruption, my personality could be described as \u201cincendiary.\u201d But <\/span>not <\/span><\/i>in sex with others. No. That is frustratingly <\/span>not <\/span><\/i>where combustibleness would have been most useful. Despite my rawness, despite my cheekiness, despite my free streak, under the sheets I would transform into this other woman. A woman I didn\u2019t like, to say the least: A coy, tongue-tied, self-conscious virgin. I look back at her now and can\u2019t help but roll my eyes. Even later, when I became more \u2014 way more \u2014 sexually disinhibited, and engaged in practices that were quite audacious and progressive (sometimes, often even, not out of craving or enjoyment but solely because I wanted to defy my education and prove to myself that I was indeed open-minded and unconventional), even then, I wouldn\u2019t admit to my partners what I really wanted, expected and longed for. <\/span><\/p>\n

I was a receiver, not a demander. And on the rare occasions where I actually got what I sought, it was only by \u201ccoincidence\u201d; that is, only because what I fancied was in tune with what my partner fancied, and our sexual personas clicked spontaneously. No initiative or assertiveness on my part, only luck. And one cannot, realistically, build their sexual happiness on the weak foundation of sheer luck, especially not a woman. Except if she\u2019s okay with being constantly and repeatedly disappointed. Which is exactly what I was.<\/span><\/p>\n

Needless to say, this dissociation between the social me and the private me, which lasted a long time \u2014 too long \u2014 exasperated me. I constantly had the feeling that I was failing myself, not to mention that I was a phony and a coward. On top of that, I was obviously not a sexually satisfied woman. Not in my relationships with men, at least. \u201cWhat a waste,\u201d I\u2019d think. \u201cAll these bodies, all these experiences, all that exertion and sweat and originality and expertise, for almost nothing.\u201d After each sexual encounter, I would wait to be by myself and, just like a schoolkid who had to do her homework all over again, in order to get it right this time, I would masturbate, thinking of all the gestures and words and situations that would have excited me. Then and only then, would pleasure come, immediately followed by self-disdain. A great deal of it. A form of self-flagellation, really. Pretty much in the Catholic tradition in which I was raised. Except that my \u201csin,\u201d that famous \u201ctaste of the apple\u201d whose price I was paying wasn\u2019t the sexual act itself \u2014 which I considered to be my absolute right \u2014 but rather my reluctance in engaging in it the way I desired due to my spinelessness. And so the only one I\u2019d been sinning against was myself.<\/span><\/p>\n

Later on, I learned to dissociate from myself during the actual performance. In my body I was with the man, kissing, licking, biting, scratching, moaning and whatnot, but in my head, I was elsewhere, with someone else, someone faceless, doing \u2014 and most of all being done to \u2014 what I actually craved. In some instances, it worked, and I would get off. But I would despise myself nonetheless. Then one day I read a quote somewhere, that we are at least four people during sex: the actual couple engaging in it, and the others invoked in each of their imaginations while in action. That consoled me at first. So, I thought, I\u2019m not alone in this plight. There were others out there suffering this kind of sexual schizophrenia. <\/span><\/p>\n

But soon, knowing that I shared this predicament with a certain percentage of humankind was no longer consolation enough. Not to someone like me, a big-headed perfectionist and, on top of that, someone so proudly direct and transparent they couldn\u2019t tolerate this kind of duplicity. I was physically \u2014 as well as metaphysically, emotionally and intellectually \u2014 exasperated and exhausted by my ailment, and I needed to heal. I had to. It wasn\u2019t just the lack of gratification that was insufferable to me, the self-proclaimed epicurean. It was also, and mainly, the incompatibility between who I thought I was and wanted at any cost to be (liberated, brazen, proactive), and the woman who couldn\u2019t bring herself to use the expression \u201cI want\u201d with her lovers. Every person who knew me, even only slightly, firmly believed I was leading this crazy, outrageous sexual life. Meanwhile there I was in the bedroom, wary as a squirrel, unable to utter a phrase as simple as \u201ctalk dirty to me!\u201d let alone \u201cplease slap my ass!\u201d And even when I was indeed leading a crazy, outrageous sexual life, I wasn\u2019t enjoying it. It was more of an act, as if I were watching myself on a screen, applauding my impudence, yet not deriving any physical pleasure from it. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat was all that for?\u201d I\u2019d ask myself afterwards. What\u2019s the value of such a feat if only aimed at proving to myself that <\/span>I can<\/span><\/i>? Sex is not a competitive sport, and there are no medals to be won. If the reward isn\u2019t pleasure \u2014 wild, overwhelming, holistic pleasure \u2014 then it isn\u2019t worth it.<\/span><\/p>\n

The issue wasn\u2019t that I lacked information or awareness. Quite the opposite. My mind was overflowing with material and studies and data about sex. I was what you could call an expert, and many were those who came to me for advice or guidance. And I would give it to them, and it would work. But I remained impervious to my own theories and their possible implementations. It wasn\u2019t until my late thirties that I managed to begin gathering my courage and hinting at what I would like, what I might enjoy, and what would pleasure me, while engaging sexually with a man. However, mere hints aren\u2019t enough for some men, whether out of thick-wittedness or arrogance or indifference, so it wasn\u2019t, admittedly, the best plan.<\/span><\/p>\n

It didn\u2019t help that what I enjoyed wasn\u2019t what one would describe as \u201cpolitically correct.\u201d It was rather quite subversive or \u201cun-woke,\u201d as one might call it nowadays. I was never a \u201cmissionary\u201d type of girl, nor a fan of all the other customary positions and practices, however creative or Kama-Sutra inspired or ostensibly decadent. I was, strictly and desperately, cerebrally excitable: it was all about words, images and power dynamics for me. The tangible side of the act was an extra, a final push, the \u201cstraw that would break my orgasm\u2019s back.\u201d And what excited that deviant brain of mine was in such contradiction to my public, acutely feminist persona that I involuntarily used to send men the wrong message.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Many thought I was a dominatrix-type, while what turned me on was in fact being dominated. I needed a space of decompression from the stress of being constantly in control, and that space, for me, was sex. But what man would dare explore that aspect of me impulsively, uninvited, un-urged to do so, when I was shouting my lungs out all day long for equality and self-empowerment? What man would dare pull my hair, or give me an order, or choke me (gently, please), when I was, clearly and objectively, an intimidating w\/bitch who wouldn\u2019t hesitate to kick him in the balls in case of a faux-pas? As a result, most lovers would tiptoe around, so to speak, my bed, being tragically considerate for fear of offending me, while all I wanted was to be \u201coffended.\u201d Yet offending me would require a certain boldness, as well as the ability to separate the public sphere from the intimate one, and would require most of all a certain creativity, that many men, I\u2019m sorry to say, lack in bed.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019m not putting all the fault on the other person here; I know that I hold a great deal of responsibility in not expressing my wants unambiguously. But at the same time, sex, for men, most men at least, with the exception of the naturally kinky ones, is quite linear. This is not an accusation but rather a compliment. I even say it with a good, sincere amount of envy. They enjoy it quite easily; obviously to different extents with different partners, but they almost always end up enjoying it. So, they are not necessarily enticed to be inventive and experimental, or extend themselves beyond what they usually like to do. They do have fantasies, of course, many of which are porn-derived, but the lure of such fantasies lies more in the physical dimension than in the cerebral one. It\u2019s about what they do, not about how they approach it and the ambiance they generate.<\/span><\/p>\n

It is worth mentioning that, amidst all my sexual debacles described above, very few <\/span>\u2014<\/span> astoundingly few <\/span>\u2014<\/span> men actually asked me straightforwardly what I wanted, what would pleasure me, or if I was enjoying what they\/we were doing, or if I had climaxed. And I guiltily confess that many times I lied and faked in order, not to preserve their ego, no, but not to hurt them. Every sexual act is perceived by men like a test that they must ace, or else they feel like inadequate little boys. And that kind of empathy robbed me of many a precious orgasm. Do I regret it?<\/span><\/p>\n

I used to. Not anymore.<\/span><\/p>\n

An important additional fact is that, in the Arab world specifically, many men suffer from the Virgin\/Whore syndrome, so there\u2019s a mental disconnect in their minds between the woman they lust after and wish to fuck, and the woman they envision as their potential partner. In short, most consider sex \u201cdirty\u201d and a form of disrespect. And sex is indeed dirty \u2014 but only if done right, as Woody Allen once said. Yet for men, this dirtiness is reserved for the women they think of as \u201cwhores,\u201d not for the women they admire or love or respect in the non-sexual realm of life. This dichotomy produces a great deal of frustration and misery for many women. How many, for example, have assumed that they were with a forward-thinking, progressive partner, only to discover, once he\u2019s been put to the test, that he\u2019s as conservative and traditional as the next guy, or even their father?<\/span><\/p>\n

Is it really contradictory to be a sexual masochist and an empowered, dignified, respectable woman? Definitely not, and I wish I had learned that sooner. But it wasn\u2019t out of internalized humiliation or fear of judgment that I wouldn\u2019t readily confess my desires, especially after I had emancipated myself from what I was taught and the way I was raised. I couldn\u2019t care less about the judgment of others, especially the Neanderthal ones, which I didn\u2019t frequent anyway. I had a sixth sense about men who were like that, even those, especially those, who tried to hide it, and I discarded them very early on. I never liked being an emotional victim, nor felt the kind of attachment that many women feel for the pricks who treat them badly. <\/span><\/p>\n

What restrained me were two factors. The first was a longing to be understood and \u201cseen\u201d without having to explain myself. It could be out of naivet\u00e9, or romanticism, but I\u2019d always believed that attaining pleasure with a sexual partner shouldn\u2019t require too much work, or that, at least, it would be better and greater if we didn\u2019t have to work for it, if the harmony occurred \u201cnaturally.\u201d The second factor is something more visceral, innate, related to my childhood; an unconscious conviction that I would be abandoning or betraying my mother were I to soar sexually the way I wanted to soar. This, in itself, deserves a Freudian level of psychoanalysis. But I\u2019ve always been more concerned with the repercussions of this complication on my sexual life rather than with its roots and motives. I\u2019ve always been a results-driven person, and the real issue, for me, was centered around the question: why was my sexual pleasure so difficult to attain when I was in others\u2019 company, and so smooth when I was on my own?<\/span><\/p>\n

At first, I blamed my intellectuality. After all, my sexual awakening happened in my head first and foremost, which resulted in my drive being more cerebral than instinctive and \u201canimalistic.\u201d My kind of pleasure needed a set-up, certain theatricals even. The mood had to be created from scratch. The man\u2019s physical seductiveness wasn\u2019t enough, nor were his moves or touches if unaccompanied by a twisted imagination and perverse language. I also blamed masturbation, and believed that it had sort of corrupted or \u201cbroken\u201d me. The solitary act of sex is so user-friendly, so uncomplicated and inexhaustible that it\u2019s hard not to have an insatiable predilection for it once we get used to it.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then, one day, more specifically in my forties, I stopped scrutinizing and blaming and questioning. I was finally old enough and experienced enough to accept myself the way I was. I let myself go.<\/span><\/p>\n

And that\u2019s when I soared.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Oscar Wilde once wrote that everything in the world is about sex except sex itself. \u201cSex is about power,\u201d he wrote, and he was totally right. It\u2019s about the power we exert, or the power we forsake, or both, alternatively, depending on our sexual tastes and preferences and sometimes even moods of the day. Personally, it took me a long time to understand that in consensual sex there is no place for shame, or embarrassment, or timidity, or idealism. There are no faux-pas, no right and wrong techniques, no normal and abnormal desires, no good and bad ways. But first and foremost, in consensual sex there is no place for political correctness. It is a moment of absolute freedom, above and beyond appropriateness and rationality.<\/span><\/p>\n

It took me a long time to understand all of the above, and to act on it. Yet despite it all, the fact remains that the best sex I\u2019ve ever had was, and is, with myself. Not because any of my partners are bad lovers, but because I am my own best lover.<\/span><\/p>\n

And that, I finally realize, is not a predicament, but a superpower.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Joumana Haddad lays bare the physical and cerebral journey that has led her to experience the best sex she’s ever had.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":255,"featured_media":31879,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[12,3392],"tags":[239,3351,507,3362,1061],"coauthors":[1990],"class_list":["post-31797","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-essay","category-tmr-39-burn-it-all-down","tag-arab-sexuality","tag-arab-womens-bodies","tag-desire","tag-intimacy","tag-love-and-sex","entry"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nThe Fires of Shame; the Burn of Desire - The Markaz Review<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"Joumana Haddad lays bare the physical and cerebral journey that has led her to experience the best sex she's ever had.\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"The Fires of Shame; the Burn of Desire\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Joumana Haddad lays bare the physical and cerebral journey that has led her to experience the best sex she's ever had.\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"The Markaz Review\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2024-03-03T11:00:45+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Aula-Al-Ayoubi-Intrusive-Thoughts-acrylic-on-canvas-36x24-in-2021.jpg\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:width\" content=\"1300\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:height\" content=\"1894\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:type\" content=\"image\/jpeg\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"Joumana Haddad\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"Joumana Haddad\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"14 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\\\/\\\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"Article\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\\\/#article\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\\\/\"},\"author\":{\"name\":\"Joumana Haddad\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/#\\\/schema\\\/person\\\/1f6dce3bb06c9283844bdad93a1dcc03\"},\"headline\":\"The Fires of Shame; the Burn of Desire\",\"datePublished\":\"2024-03-03T11:00:45+00:00\",\"mainEntityOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\\\/\"},\"wordCount\":3036,\"commentCount\":0,\"publisher\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/#organization\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\\\/#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2024\\\/03\\\/Aula-Al-Ayoubi-Intrusive-Thoughts-acrylic-on-canvas-36x24-in-2021.jpg\",\"keywords\":[\"Arab sexuality\",\"Arab women's bodies\",\"desire\",\"intimacy\",\"love and sex\"],\"articleSection\":[\"Essays\",\"TMR 39 \u2022 BURN IT ALL DOWN\"],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"CommentAction\",\"name\":\"Comment\",\"target\":[\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\\\/#respond\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\\\/\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\\\/\",\"name\":\"The Fires of Shame; the Burn of Desire - The Markaz Review\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/#website\"},\"primaryImageOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\\\/#primaryimage\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\\\/#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2024\\\/03\\\/Aula-Al-Ayoubi-Intrusive-Thoughts-acrylic-on-canvas-36x24-in-2021.jpg\",\"datePublished\":\"2024-03-03T11:00:45+00:00\",\"description\":\"Joumana Haddad lays bare the physical and cerebral journey that has led her to experience the best sex she's ever had.\",\"breadcrumb\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\\\/#breadcrumb\"},\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"ReadAction\",\"target\":[\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\\\/\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\\\/#primaryimage\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2024\\\/03\\\/Aula-Al-Ayoubi-Intrusive-Thoughts-acrylic-on-canvas-36x24-in-2021.jpg\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2024\\\/03\\\/Aula-Al-Ayoubi-Intrusive-Thoughts-acrylic-on-canvas-36x24-in-2021.jpg\",\"width\":1300,\"height\":1894,\"caption\":\"Aula Al Ayoubi, \\\"Intrusive Thoughts,\\\" acrylic on canvas, 36x24 in, 2021 (courtesy of the artist, aulaalayoubi.com).\"},{\"@type\":\"BreadcrumbList\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\\\/#breadcrumb\",\"itemListElement\":[{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":1,\"name\":\"Home\",\"item\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/\"},{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":2,\"name\":\"The Fires of Shame; the Burn of Desire\"}]},{\"@type\":\"WebSite\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/#website\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/\",\"name\":\"The Markaz Review\",\"description\":\"Literature and Arts from the Center of the World\",\"publisher\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/#organization\"},\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"SearchAction\",\"target\":{\"@type\":\"EntryPoint\",\"urlTemplate\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/?s={search_term_string}\"},\"query-input\":{\"@type\":\"PropertyValueSpecification\",\"valueRequired\":true,\"valueName\":\"search_term_string\"}}],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\"},{\"@type\":\"Organization\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/#organization\",\"name\":\"The Markaz Review\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/\",\"logo\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/#\\\/schema\\\/logo\\\/image\\\/\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2023\\\/08\\\/cropped-New-2023-TMR-Logo-500-pix.jpg\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2023\\\/08\\\/cropped-New-2023-TMR-Logo-500-pix.jpg\",\"width\":473,\"height\":191,\"caption\":\"The Markaz Review\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/#\\\/schema\\\/logo\\\/image\\\/\"}},{\"@type\":\"Person\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/#\\\/schema\\\/person\\\/1f6dce3bb06c9283844bdad93a1dcc03\",\"name\":\"Joumana Haddad\",\"image\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/secure.gravatar.com\\\/avatar\\\/4cb9cc4dc4d754ffa087067f02e61d06f564a450c6b8ea891d700d89df4f2b48?s=96&d=mm&r=g413a88d9b33819f6ac4067b1bf5fe911\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/secure.gravatar.com\\\/avatar\\\/4cb9cc4dc4d754ffa087067f02e61d06f564a450c6b8ea891d700d89df4f2b48?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\\\/\\\/secure.gravatar.com\\\/avatar\\\/4cb9cc4dc4d754ffa087067f02e61d06f564a450c6b8ea891d700d89df4f2b48?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"caption\":\"Joumana Haddad\"},\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/themarkaz.org\\\/oldsite\\\/author\\\/joumanahaddad\\\/\"}]}<\/script>\n<!-- \/ Yoast SEO Premium plugin. -->","yoast_head_json":{"title":"The Fires of Shame; the Burn of Desire - The Markaz Review","description":"Joumana Haddad lays bare the physical and cerebral journey that has led her to experience the best sex she's ever had.","robots":{"index":"index","follow":"follow","max-snippet":"max-snippet:-1","max-image-preview":"max-image-preview:large","max-video-preview":"max-video-preview:-1"},"canonical":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\/","og_locale":"en_US","og_type":"article","og_title":"The Fires of Shame; the Burn of Desire","og_description":"Joumana Haddad lays bare the physical and cerebral journey that has led her to experience the best sex she's ever had.","og_url":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\/","og_site_name":"The Markaz Review","article_published_time":"2024-03-03T11:00:45+00:00","og_image":[{"width":1300,"height":1894,"url":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Aula-Al-Ayoubi-Intrusive-Thoughts-acrylic-on-canvas-36x24-in-2021.jpg","type":"image\/jpeg"}],"author":"Joumana Haddad","twitter_card":"summary_large_image","twitter_misc":{"Written by":"Joumana Haddad","Est. reading time":"14 minutes"},"schema":{"@context":"https:\/\/schema.org","@graph":[{"@type":"Article","@id":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\/#article","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\/"},"author":{"name":"Joumana Haddad","@id":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/#\/schema\/person\/1f6dce3bb06c9283844bdad93a1dcc03"},"headline":"The Fires of Shame; the Burn of Desire","datePublished":"2024-03-03T11:00:45+00:00","mainEntityOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\/"},"wordCount":3036,"commentCount":0,"publisher":{"@id":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/#organization"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\/#primaryimage"},"thumbnailUrl":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Aula-Al-Ayoubi-Intrusive-Thoughts-acrylic-on-canvas-36x24-in-2021.jpg","keywords":["Arab sexuality","Arab women's bodies","desire","intimacy","love and sex"],"articleSection":["Essays","TMR 39 \u2022 BURN IT ALL DOWN"],"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"CommentAction","name":"Comment","target":["https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\/#respond"]}]},{"@type":"WebPage","@id":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\/","url":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\/","name":"The Fires of Shame; the Burn of Desire - The Markaz Review","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/#website"},"primaryImageOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\/#primaryimage"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\/#primaryimage"},"thumbnailUrl":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Aula-Al-Ayoubi-Intrusive-Thoughts-acrylic-on-canvas-36x24-in-2021.jpg","datePublished":"2024-03-03T11:00:45+00:00","description":"Joumana Haddad lays bare the physical and cerebral journey that has led her to experience the best sex she's ever had.","breadcrumb":{"@id":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\/#breadcrumb"},"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"ReadAction","target":["https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\/"]}]},{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\/#primaryimage","url":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Aula-Al-Ayoubi-Intrusive-Thoughts-acrylic-on-canvas-36x24-in-2021.jpg","contentUrl":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Aula-Al-Ayoubi-Intrusive-Thoughts-acrylic-on-canvas-36x24-in-2021.jpg","width":1300,"height":1894,"caption":"Aula Al Ayoubi, \"Intrusive Thoughts,\" acrylic on canvas, 36x24 in, 2021 (courtesy of the artist, aulaalayoubi.com)."},{"@type":"BreadcrumbList","@id":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/the-fires-of-shame-the-burn-of-desire\/#breadcrumb","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","position":1,"name":"Home","item":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":2,"name":"The Fires of Shame; the Burn of Desire"}]},{"@type":"WebSite","@id":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/#website","url":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/","name":"The Markaz Review","description":"Literature and Arts from the Center of the World","publisher":{"@id":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/#organization"},"potentialAction":[{"@type":"SearchAction","target":{"@type":"EntryPoint","urlTemplate":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/?s={search_term_string}"},"query-input":{"@type":"PropertyValueSpecification","valueRequired":true,"valueName":"search_term_string"}}],"inLanguage":"en-US"},{"@type":"Organization","@id":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/#organization","name":"The Markaz Review","url":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/","logo":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/","url":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/cropped-New-2023-TMR-Logo-500-pix.jpg","contentUrl":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/cropped-New-2023-TMR-Logo-500-pix.jpg","width":473,"height":191,"caption":"The Markaz Review"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/"}},{"@type":"Person","@id":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/#\/schema\/person\/1f6dce3bb06c9283844bdad93a1dcc03","name":"Joumana Haddad","image":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/4cb9cc4dc4d754ffa087067f02e61d06f564a450c6b8ea891d700d89df4f2b48?s=96&d=mm&r=g413a88d9b33819f6ac4067b1bf5fe911","url":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/4cb9cc4dc4d754ffa087067f02e61d06f564a450c6b8ea891d700d89df4f2b48?s=96&d=mm&r=g","contentUrl":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/4cb9cc4dc4d754ffa087067f02e61d06f564a450c6b8ea891d700d89df4f2b48?s=96&d=mm&r=g","caption":"Joumana Haddad"},"url":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/author\/joumanahaddad\/"}]}},"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Aula-Al-Ayoubi-Intrusive-Thoughts-acrylic-on-canvas-36x24-in-2021.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/31797","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/255"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=31797"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/31797\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/31879"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=31797"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=31797"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=31797"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/coauthors?post=31797"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}