(hell, yeah) Scarleteen

sapphire12758 asks:

The guy I’m sleeping with really wants to have PIV sex with me, but he won’t wear a condom because he’s Roman Catholic. Everything else we’ve done has been amazing and I really want to do it, but I’m terrified of getting pregnant and I’ve already had a scare that I haven’t told him about. I’m on the pill now, but I know that it isn’t 100% effective. Would it be really wrong to try and get him to change his mind about condoms? I’m religious too and I’d hate to make him do anything that would go against his faith, but the idea of getting pregnant scares me so much that I have nightmares about it, and since we’re not really together I don’t know what he’d do.

Heather Corinna replies:

He doesn’t want to engage in sex with condoms (or, I assume, anything that would reduce your risks of pregnancy or sexually transmitted infections).

You don’t want to engage in sex without those things.

So, your limit, a limit you need to make clear to him, is that you won’t engage in sex without the things that reduce the risks you aren’t comfortable with: that includes condoms.

You can say something like, “I respect your beliefs, wants and limits here, but this is what I need in order to feel okay engaging in that kind of sex, just like you’re saying going without condoms is what you need. I know your limit, and now you know mine: now let’s talk about where we both want to go from here.”

Then he gets to decide what he wants to do, and what is or isn’t in alignment with his own limits.

It may be that he feels it’s more important to him to have sex without condoms or other risk-reduction than it is to have sex with you — whether or not that’s based on his faith. I say that because Roman Catholicism doesn’t support sex (of any kind, not just intercourse) outside of marriage, sex for purposes besides procreation, or engaging in sex where someone is using the pill, so it’s hard for me to tell how much this all really is or isn’t about religious doctrine, since he’s being awfully inconsistent here.

Regardless, if he decides he’d rather hold his line about sex with no condoms than compromise with that so he can have sex with you, that’s okay (and it’s okay no matter what his desire to not use condoms is based in). He gets to feel that way and he gets to decide to only have sex with people who don’t want to use condoms or other forms of contraception and risk reduction.

Or, it may be that he decides that his desire to have sex with you takes bigger precedence over his belief that it’s not within the bounds of his religion to engage in sex using condoms, and he may decide he’d rather use condoms than not have sex with you. He gets to do that, too, if that’s how he feels and what he finds he feels best about.

(I’d also say that you should figure that someone who insists on not using condoms with a partner probably poses higher STI risks. Because if they have had any other partners before, they probably did not use condoms with them. So, with someone like this, I’d say just from an STI-safety standpoint alone, going without condoms for any oral, vaginal or anal sex is probably a bad idea. Personally, in a situation like this, I’d just be graciously saying it was time for me and someone like this not to continue to be sexual, since what I needed for emotional and physical safety obviously isn’t compatible with what they believe in and want to do. No harm, no foul, everyone is still awesome, but I’m going to just exempt myself from the whole situation and move on along.)

No matter what he decides, you can both set your own lines AND not make anyone do anything they’re not uncomfortable with when you’re just clear that, like they have given lines, so do you, and you want and intend to respect both of them. In other words, he’s set his. Now you’re going to set yours. And so long as you both respect what the other decides, and neither of you attempts to change the other’s mind about each of your limits, it’s all good.

Read the rest here at Scarleteen

Secret_girl asks:

I was with this guy down at the beach late in the night and we started to hook up. It got a bit heated and asked me if I wanted to try something new. I said yes (I consented). He started to eat me out following with me giving him oral.

I’m scared that if I tell any of my friends I’ll get judged. Girls are like that these days :( It’s not like I regret it or anything. To be honest, I enjoyed it. I’m just afraid because there is so many labels being thrown around.

Heather Corinna replies:

For most of our global history, people really haven’t been free from the judgment of others about their sexual lives. Very unfortunately. Mind, we can say the same for pretty near every part of human life and behavior: some people are judgy or sanctimonious about some things sometimes, and some of those people, some of those times, choose not to keep it to themselves.

So, this isn’t anything new. I’m a pretty huge sexuality history geek, and as far as I know, this has been an issue for pretty much forever. Same goes for the various disparaging words or labels people can and do put on other people’s sexualities or sexual lives: alas, we’ve a long, rich tradition of that kind of crummy behaviour.

Of course, what gets judged, by whom and how is all over the place. Whether we’re talking hundreds of years ago or today, one person might judge us for making a given sexual choice, while someone else might have strong, negative opinions they cannot seem to keep to themselves if we had made a different one. As I explained in this answer here, there’s simply no sexual choice or set of sexual choices anyone can make where they are going to have everyone’s approval, or be magically free of other people’s judgment. No matter what you do or don’t do, someone’s not going to like it or put some kind of judgment on it.

The best we can do is to take the time to really figure out what we want and what is best for us at a given time, make sure any sexual partners we have feel the same way about what we do together, and then share things about our sexual lives with people who are safe for us: with people we know, even if they might not agree with all our choices, will accept and respect them, and accept and respect us as people making our own, unique choices.

A lot of people still walk around saying, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” Of course, you and I know that’s just not true: words most certainly can hurt us. Since our sexual lives and sexualities tend to be very vulnerable, sensitive and personal places, certain words or judgments put on them or us can really hurt and feel just awful. I certainly understand feeling scared and nervous about that. I’d also say we’re currently experiencing a whole lot of that in our world right now.

I’d say if you have the clear sense that someone might disparage you like that, or get all super-judgmental about your sexual choices? If you know or strongly suspect someone will have nothing positive to offer you when you share these kinds of things, but only or mostly negatives? Don’t tell that person. This is the kind of thing we usually will only want to talk about with people we trust. I think it’s safe to say that if you don’t know if your friends will or won’t call you crummy names, that’s a sure sign you don’t have that kind of trust with them yet. If they already do that, then you would certainly have good reason not to trust them in this regard.

By all means, if you want to take that chance, and it seems pretty safe, but know you might have to call out trash-talk or stand up for yourself, it’s not like that’s a bad thing to do. It can actually be a great thing to do that benefits everyone involved. But we also have to take care of ourselves, and we’re just not always going to feel up to taking those kinds of social risks. If you don’t, it’s not like you’re less-than-fantastic because you just aren’t up to dealing with callouts around a given thing at a given time. Whatever works for you, and whatever you feel able to handle — or like you even just want to — is all good here.

Your sexual life gets to be as private as you want it to be. You don’t have to tell anyone about it.

But you probably just want to: we usually will want to talk about our sexual lives, the highs and the lows, the stuff we’re finding out and the stuff we wind up having worries or questions about, with someone. I always advise, for people of any age, that we make sure we have at least one person we can trust to talk to about our sexual lives when we need to, both for the stuff that’s so awesome we’re sure we’ll explode if we don’t share it, and for the things we’re worried about, or need help thinking or feeling our way through.

Read the rest at Scarleteen here.

Meghan_Hoover asks:

I am 15 and I just had sex for the first time last Friday. It was unprotected but he did not cum. The next morning I had pain. The pain continued through Saturday and Sunday. I thought the pain was from having sex for the first time, but it’s now Monday and I realized stinging while I pee, cloudy with some blood in it too, in addition to constantly having to pee and never feeling empty. I have had chills, too. I am almost 100% positive I have a UTI, but there is no way I’m telling my mom and getting medical attention for it, she can’t know I had sex. I’ve read into it in depth, and the more I read the more scared I get. I’m on a vitamin regimen and I am able to get a z-pack, which treats bacterial infections but I’m unsure if it’ll help me. Will it? are there anything I can do besides drink water and wait it out? How long will it last untreated? HELP!

Heather Corinna replies:

I have to give you an answer I know you won’t like, but there really isn’t any other right answer.

It very much sounds like you need to get this evaluated, ASAP, by a healthcare provider. Right now.

A Z-pack may or may not treat your infection, especially since that class of antibiotics isn’t always what’s prescribed for urinary tract infections. (I also cannot ethically advise you to use any medications off-label or to use them besides as you have been directed to by your prescribing physician.) We also really don’t want to self-prescribe antibiotics, nor try and self-diagnose what sounds like something other than a very mild infection. Especially when you don’t have medical training or access to clinical tests to even see what’s wrong with you in the first place. Google can’t make any of us into doctors.

If you’re starting to get chills, and you’re seeing blood in your urine, it may be this UTI, if that’s what it is, is getting worse or spreading to your kidneys, and that’s very serious business. It is also what will often happen with untreated UTIs. Those infections don’t just stay put forever in your urinary tract or bladder, they keep moving, spreading to other organs. To boot, since the sex you had was unprotected, you’d also want to make sure this isn’t some other kind of infection entirely or a UTI and an STI.

Drinking more and more water isn’t going to treat your infection: that’s one way we can prevent these kinds of infections in the first place, and sometimes if we are just starting to get one, something like water or cranberry can nip them in the bud before they start. But it sounds like you’re way, way past that at this point. And infections don’t just go away: they have to be treated.

You need healthcare, and I’d say that really is all there is to it.

Read the rest at Scarleteen here.

fox asks:

I’m unclear on how condoms are supposed to be effective in preventing female-to-male contamination during “plain” sex, I mean insertion of the penis into the vagina. Let me explain.

Latex is an effective barrier to virii and germs. I get that. As far as protecting the woman is concerned, I’ve no trouble believing it works. The STD virii or germs are present in the semen and/or pre-cum; these are “emprisoned” by the condom, don’t get out, and don’t get into contact with any part of the anatomy of the woman. She’s protected. The sweat of the man does not contain these virii or germs and thus no risk with the rest of the skin-to-skin contact. But in the other direction, I don’t quite get it.

From what I understand, when a woman gets sexually excited, she secretes some kind of lubrification in her vagina. I presume that for STDs, the virus / germ is present in that natural lubricant, and that the contact with that lubricant is what’s dangerous. But a condom covers only the shaft of the penis. Couldn’t the lubrication “drip” out a bit and land on the man’s crotch area, not covered by the condom? And here you are, infection! Or, similarly, your article here says that vaginal discharge / secretions will end up on the woman’s labia; when thrusting “till the end”, penis shaft completely inserted, wouldn’t these labia come into contact with the men’s uncovered crotch and, again, infect him?

If my premise is wrong and vaginal discharge/lubrification does not contain the STD virii/germs, then how does STD transmission from woman to man (during unprotected sex) happen in the first place?

Heather Corinna replies:

In the early 80’s, safer sex was called safe sex. That language was changed to reflect the knowledge that these practices — namely, latex barrier use, STI testing and limiting the number of sexual partners — couldn’t make sex “safe.” They could only make sex safer. So, know above and beyond all else that what condoms can do is reduce our risks: they cannot eradicate them nor provide absolute protection, ever. They make sex safer for us and for our partners: they don’t make sex safe.

Not all men and all women have the same kinds of bodies or genitals. Some people who identify as men have a vulva. Some people who identify as women have a penis. But for the purpose of your question, when I say “men” here I will mean people with a penis, and when I say “women” I’ll mean people with a vagina, especially since the studies I’ll be talking about typically use that same framework (and here’s hoping some day soon they start to shift out of it). I don’t want to confuse you instead of helping you get more clear.

Let’s start with some STI (sexually transmitted infection) basics. While STIs tend to differ in a lot of ways — some are parasites, some viruses, some bacteria, some are more easily transmitted than others — on the whole, we divide them into two basic groups: those transmitted by fluids, like HIV, gonorrhea, chlamydia and trichomoniasis, and those transmitted just by bodily contact, like HPV, herpes, syphilis, molluscum, chancroid and scabies.

With fluid-borne infections, infection occurs not because fluids have contact with skin like that on the thighs or testes, but with parts of the body which can or do provide a direct route to the bloodstream. So, for instance, in vaginal intercourse, your sexual fluids, and any infections they may be carrying, can or do reach the inside of the vagina, the cervix, the uterus and beyond: all places with direct routes to the bloodstream. On a female partner’s part in intercourse, her fluids, any any infections she’s got, could reach your urethra, which is often the only direct route into the bloodstream through the penis, particularly for men who are circumcised (uncircumcised men may have higher risks than men who are not). For men and women alike, other pathways to the bloodstream that can be other possible routes of fluid-borne infection are the anus, the mouth, and any shaving cuts or other skin abrasions or wounds on the body, including on or inside the genitals. Unless you have a cut or abrasion on the base of your penis, testicles or “crotch area,” these are not going to be sites for fluid-borne infection transmission. If we’re only talking vaginal intercourse, the anus is a non-issue.

You’re asking specifically about how you’d be protected during vaginal intercourse with condoms: the simplest answer is that condoms cover the opening of your urethra completely, the orifice through which you would be most likely to acquire a fluid-borne infection with that activity. So, the answer for the most part is that you’d be protected very well, especially from fluid-borne infections.

However, not all sexually transmitted infections are transmitted by body fluids. Some infections spread by only contact between or to mucous membranes like genital tissue, the mouth, the inside of our noses. Fluids are a non-issue with these kinds of infections. Condoms reduce risks of STI transmission for these kinds of infections well, well, but not as well as they can reduce risks of fluid-borne infections, primarily because condoms, dental dams or latex gloves often don’t provide a barrier to the whole genital or oral area. These are the infections to figure you, as person with a penis, have less protection from when using condoms.

When you’re expressly asking about penis-in-vagina intercourse, women tend to be a lot more susceptible to acquiring most infections than men. That’s because of physiological differences and also because of common social/gender inequities that often impact women’s health, like men as a group being tested less often for STIs, having sex more often outside relationships understood to be monogamous and more frequent refusal to use condoms. If you spend time with studies on latex barrier use and STIs, one common finding you’ll see is that men are frequently afforded better protection from condoms with most infections than women are. That does not mean you shouldn’t be concerned about your own health: you so should! I encourage everyone to protect themselves as best they can. However, I think it’s also important to just know, in having the facts, that female partners you have for intercourse will usually be at a higher risk than you will of acquiring an infection.

Another having-the-facts riff: women can and often do produce several different fluids. Self-lubrication from arousal, menstrual fluids, and fluids produced by the cervix and the vagina that are part of the fertility cycle and/or the way the vagina keeps itself clean are all typical. Some women also ejaculate. For men, the genital fluids at play are ejaculate and/or pre-ejaculate, and any fluids/oils produced by the foreskin if you have one. Both your bodies produce urine and fecal matter, and both of you have blood. Nursing or lactating women also produce breast milk. With fluid-borne infections, the fluids which typically transmit STIs are primarily vaginal fluids, penile fluids, blood and/or breast milk. Fecal matter is another biggie in terms of bacterial infections and hepatitis, but that’s not something you or a partner are likely to be exposed to with vaginal intercourse.

So, just how effective ARE condoms for you per infections? If you read public health information, you will most typically see them stated as “highly effective,” which we know them to be. Reliably expressing just how highly effective in numbers is harder to do outside any one specific study.

Read the rest at Scarleteen here.

Want a quick way to sort out what sexual activities pose what kinds of risks of pregnancy or sexually transmitted infections? Based on what we know from current, scientifically sound study, and in alignment with what credible, dependable health organizations report, the list and graphics below provide you that information.

You can use this as a tool to help figure out what activities you do or don’t feel ready for, are or are not comfortable with, and what contraception, safer sex practices, or both you’ll want or need to use when to reduce your risks of pregnancy, STIs or both. You can use it if you already engaged in a given activity, but aren’t sure what levels of risk it posed to know if you should consider emergency contraception, and when you might need STI testing.

You can check it out here at Scarleteen.

praying-for-a-miracle asks:

I’m transgender. My girlfriend has supported me from the time we got together, celebrating my “transliness”, even finding tips to help me transition easier. When I got my packer, she laughed at it and asked me to take it off. I felt humiliated, but did so. Ever since then, she begs me to take it off if we start to become intimate. (The term there is “if”; our intimacy has been on a steady decline ever since then.) Now that I’m on testosterone, she’s shying away even more. It seems that being able to afford a decent quality binder has really halted anything. She’s even refusing to kiss me more than once or lay against me. A few nights ago she said that something was bothering her and to not get offended. She admitted that she is a lesbian, and only got with me originally because I was female bodied. She says that she’s fallen completely in love with me, but is no longer sexually attracted to me unless I take my packer and/or binder off. She coaxes the binder off by offering a back massage. (Seeing as I have pulled every muscle in my back and slipped 2 discs, I can’t refuse.) I have absolutely no idea what to do. I’m humiliated. She says that she will always love me, but is sexually frustrated. She doesn’t want to leave me because she loves me, but would rather have sex with a girl. Any advice or..?

Molias replies:

I’m sorry to hear that things have been so strained between you and your girlfriend when it comes to your transition. Gender transition is a pretty intense experience; a good thing for you, to be sure, but it’s still full of a lot of changes in a relatively short period of time. And it can be tough, even for folks who want to be supportive and are happy for you, to adjust to those changes as quickly as they’re coming.

For some people, too, it’s a very different thing to be supportive of the idea of trans people, or of trans acquaintances and friends, and to see a loved one go through that process. You’ve probably had a good while to sit with your thoughts about your own identity, get excited about the physical changes that testosterone will bring, and try out changes to your gender presentation. But even if your girlfriend’s known that you were trans for a while, she still hasn’t known as long as you have, and the reality of it may be startling or jarring to her as changes become more apparent.

There’s a process some cisgender folks go through, consciously or not, of “mourning” their “lost” sister, son, girlfriend, father, etc. when a loved one transitions. To be honest, I personally roll my eyes at this a bit because I didn’t die or vanish when I transitioned, and didn’t feel like I was mourning anything at all - I was celebrating! Even so, I don’t have to like or agree with it to understand that it happens.

Your girlfriend may just be taking a while to really understand and process the changes you’re going through. It also sounds like she’s been thinking a lot about her sexual orientation and what it means for her identity if she’s in a relationship with someone who is not a woman.

Your girlfriend is entitled to whatever feelings come up for her right now, around you, your transition, and her own identity - there’s no way any of us can control our feelings and emotional responses to things that happen in our lives. However, while your girlfriend has the right to her feelings, no matter what they are, it’s also her job to manage them in a way that is not excessively hurtful to you.

She doesn’t have the right to be disrespectful by laughing at your packer or anything else you wear that makes you feel happier and more comfortable. That’s really not okay.

Read the rest from Molias at Scarleteen here.

poonamdeshmukh asks:

I had to go through an abortion at the age of 18 of a 20 week fetus. I had experienced orgasm just once in my life before the abortion. I have not experienced orgasm after my abortion through any sexual activity or masturbation. Have the abortion made me unorgasmic? I am getting married soon and I’m worried whether I’d be able to satisfy my partner, since I m doubtful whether my partner would have the same experience he used to have before abortion and whether I’d ever reach climax. Kindly help.

Heather Corinna replies:

Hi there, poonamdeshmukh.

There isn’t any data that I know of which associates abortion specifically with troubles with orgasm, and I keep pretty good track of these things.

However, here are a few things we do know to be real and which have been verified:

• There certainly are some sexual problems or issues, as well as some mental health issues, linked to pregnancy and post-pregnancy. In other words, regardless of how a pregnancy ends, be it with birth or a termination, it’s actually quite common to experience things like post-partum depression (which, like other kinds of depression, often impacts sexuality and sexual response). After all, no matter how a pregnancy ends, there are big chemical changes to the body both during and after pregnancy. However, looking at your profile, it looks like it’s been about five years since you were 18, so it’s not likely that any of this is related to that previous pregnancy at this point, unless you have feelings about that pregnancy you think may play a part here.

• We also know that in our predominantly anti-choice world, plenty of people feel guilt and shame about abortion, regardless of whatever circumstances were part of making that choice. If you don’t feel resolved with or okay about that abortion — or if it wasn’t your own choice — those conflicted feelings, again, may be part of this.

• It sounds like your history around orgasm is consistent here, in that, save the once, orgasm isn’t something you tend to experience.

My best guess is that your inability to experience orgasm probably isn’t related to your abortion or to having been pregnant. I think the most relevant thing you’ve shared here about orgasm is that you have a history of not experiencing it.

In other words, it doesn’t sound like anything changed in that regard with your pregnancy or abortion. It sounds like things have basically stayed the same in regard to orgasm: you weren’t experiencing orgasm before, save the once, you’re still not now.

I’m not sure why you’re concerned that your partner’s sexual experience with you will be different post-abortion. Certainly, pregnancy can create some usually-temporary changes to the body, and can certainly also impact our hearts and minds no matter what choice we make. And if abortion wasn’t a choice you truly wanted to make, then, like any reproductive choice that isn’t really what we want, we can get hit pretty hard emotionally, sometimes for a long time after. As well, if your pregnancy was unwanted in any respect, you might be feeling some negative impact on your sexuality still from whatever circumstances got you in that position. But abortion, at any stage of a pregnancy, rarely creates any permanent changes to the body: so if your worry here is that your body is somehow going to feel different to a partner because you had an abortion, know that’s not a reality. They can’t and won’t: that’s just not something real.

Sexual satisfaction is a term people tend to use pretty casually, but also often think about in ways that aren’t reflective of people’s real experiences with sexual satisfaction. A lot of people think it’s only or mostly about orgasm, only or mostly about enjoying certain kinds of sex or sexual frequency, or only or mostly about a body feeling a certain way. Some people even say “sexual satisfaction” when all they mean is orgasm, as if orgasm were the only way to find sex satisfying (it’s so not).

In reality, what we know as people who work with folks around sexuality, as well as from broad study, is that sexual satisfaction is not only typically about a lot more than other things, the things most people will say are the core parts of feeling sexually satisfied often aren’t those things at all.

Read the rest here at Scarleteen.