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tw: rape aplogogy, victim blaming, slut shaming.
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GROWING UP IS REALIZING:
- YOU DON’T HAVE TO SAY YES!!
- YOU DON’T HAVE TO PRETEND TO LIKE THINGS IF YOU DON’T LIKE THEM!!
- AND YOU CERTAINLY DON’T...
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President Obama and his teen mom.
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May is National Teen Pregnancy Prevention Month, which basically means it’s the...
Happy National Masturbation Month!
Today is my birthday.
If you’ve been a reader here for more than a year or two, you might have noticed that some years, I ask for something for my birthday here, and not usually something that’s a thing, like a pony, a fire hoop, a scooter with a sidecar for my little dog, or a life-sized Fozzie Bear I could tell bad jokes to while going wokka-wokka (though I’d oh-so-gladly accept all of those things, for the record).
If and when I have a birthday where I blow out candles, the wish I make when I do is usually something around positive social change, and often positive social change in regard to sexuality. In a word, what I usually really, really want for my birthday is for people to have happier, healthier sexual lives, to feel better about sex and whatever their sexualities are, and to be more accepting and supportive of the diverse sexualities of all people.
One of the very biggest problems we have in most of our cultures and communities around sex and sexuality is silence, secrecy, and talk about sex that very often either isn’t truthful, or is, but isn’t the whole truth. We, as people, tend to often feel so scared and shameful and nervous about sex that we posture. We embellish. We make things sound better or worse than they are. We pretend we know more than we do, or have experienced less or more than we have. We talk about sex keeping everything very much on the surface, keeping the deeper, more complex and less super-sexypants parts of it locked away in our hearts and minds.
All of that really does contribute to a sexually unhealthy culture, a less healthy and happy personal sexual life, and a sense of our own sexualities that’s so much less great and in-touch than it could be. I absolutely know as a longtime sexuality educator that if everyone could just increase the openness and truthfulness of their sexual communication, or their communication about sex and sexuality even a little bit, it would create a great big change: a big change in each person’s own life, a big change in our world as a whole. The vast majority of the time, just opening our mouths (be that with spoken words, written words, or sign language: however it is we can communicate) and acknowledging elephants in our sexual rooms alone tends to leave a person feeling a whole lot better, especially in the long run. Just getting started by speaking our truths, especially the hard ones, paves a much clearer path to sexualities and sexual lives that people feel a whole lot better about.
So this year, as a birthday gift from you to me, and even more so, as a gift to yourself, I’m asking you to tell just one (but more if you like, of course!) truth about sex or sexuality with someone safe for you, today or sometime very soon.
The real truth. The whole truth. And, yep: nothing but the truth. Probably, as real, big truths tend to be, a truth that might feel scary to tell, even with someone you know is safe for you. A truth that has been jumbling around your insides making you feel anxious or weird or like a charlatan, and probably feels like it wants to burst out of your skin a whole lot. I’m asking that you finally let it.
Read the rest at Scarleteen here.
likeboom asks:
My boyfriend and I, both 18, are very comfortable with each other. We took things slow, somewhat due to my discomfort in the religious section and partly to make it more genuine. Skip forward a bit and we are delving into the world of sexual activity. I want to steer clear of PIV sex for pregnancy reasons and virginity reasons. But the other day we were exploring each others’ bodies and before we knew it we were having anal sex. Thankfully my boyfriend used much lotion in the absence of lube and took it very slow. We both enjoyed it and were even able to switch positions once or twice with little to no difficulty. My question for the staff of Scarleteen is simply this, is there something I’m missing? From word of mouth anal is supposedly unpleasant, unsafe, and should be avoided; but my boyfriend and I really enjoyed ourselves. We want take a day and just explore the possibilities but is there such thing as too much or things that I should be wary about before we even consider more anal sex? Thanks.
Heather Corinna replies:You know, one of the neatest, most interesting things about sex, from my perspective, is that what people do and don’t enjoy is so diverse. One person’s least favorite sexual activity is another person’s favorite. I think that’s really cool.
All of our bodies, sexualities and situations are so different that, for the most part, we can only really find out what we like (or don’t) by following our own interests and feelings, then by experimenting and exploring as feels right for us and any of our partners.
Some people love anal sex. Some people love it who are on the receiving end, as it were, others love it who are on the other side of things, and some people love pegging a partner and being the receptive partner. Some people don’t like it at all, again, be they a receptive partner or the person with a body part or toy who’s doing the entry with a partner. Some people have liked it a lot with one partner, but didn’t like it at all with another. Some people like it at one time of life, but not another. Just like with other kinds of sex, there are also some people who just can’t do it, due to certain limitations of their unique bodies.
What other people experience with sexual activities can sure be interesting, and it can tell you many things, but something it can’t tell you is what you like and enjoy.
The real difference with how anal sex is often talked about is generally that penis-in-vagina intercourse has a longstanding cultural stamp of approval while anal sex hasn’t had that, largely due to religious ideas, mythology about the anus and anal sex, and people’s negative feelings about their bottoms. This is also about historical shifts and changes. The way anal sex is often talked about now used to be how oral sex was talked about. Then oral sex became a more common or popular sexual activity, and one more people talked about as something they did in their sexual lives, so the stigma with it decreased. I highly suspect the same will happen with anal sex in time, particularly if we also get less homophobic as a culture, since many negative attitudes and fears about anal sex often have roots in fears and ignorance around homosexuality.
As far as what you hear about pleasure with anal sex goes, we know from many studies and anecdotes that a lot of people don’t find penis-in-vagina intercourse pleasurable, or the best thing of ever. But that cultural stamp of approval versus a cultural stigma also means we hear more about how anal sex is unpleasant for some people than we hear about how vaginal intercourse is (even though I’d say that based on the data we have, just as many people probably don’t like one as people who don’t like the other). It’s way more loaded for people to talk a lot about how they don’t like the one sexual activity (vaginal intercourse) often held up as the only kind of sex, or the only truly acceptable, sanctified or “loving” sex, so we’re going to hear more negatives about other kinds of sex just because people have more cultural permission to say they don’t like those.
And if you’ve heard some stuff about how the anus is only “designed” for “one way,” meaning that it’s only designed for things leaving the body, not entering it, do know that those are value statements, not statements based in sound science or current medical data. Especially since there’s no one on earth who has ever been able to identify, let alone consult with, the designer of our bodies or their parts or see their apparent blueprints that would tell us what a body part like the anus is “supposed” to be used for. Besides, we already know that on top of the anus and rectum being a key part of your digestive system that eliminates waste, is is also a body part people sometimes engage as part of their sexual lives and behaviours. That’s nothing even remotely new.
So, you’ve heard or read that some other people don’t find anal sex pleasant. That’s fine: we all get to like the sexual things we like and not like the things we don’t. Hooray for that!
You’re saying that you liked it, though, and this is about you.
Read the rest at Scarleteen here.
Fairydomain asks:
When my boyfriend preforms oral sex on me and “eats me out” it’s like it has no affect on me. Is this normal? I mean, he’s down THERE… using his mouth… shouldn’t that affect me? It’s almost as if I just don’t feel it either. Sometimes I exaggerate my motives a bit when he does just to make him feel a bit better. It’s not that I don’t WANT him to. And I don’t want him to stop. I just… don’t feel like it’s anything. And it makes me feel bad.
Jenna replies:It sounds like you have two different concerns in your question: that it is not normal for you to not be experiencing pleasure (or much sensation at all) while receiving oral sex, and that you also don’t want your boyfriend to feel bad about that. Let’s talk about the first part of your question.
What’s Normal?
When it comes to sex and sexual pleasure, nothing is really “normal” or “abnormal”. Everyone is different, and we all have different preferences for sexual activities. Generally speaking, what feels great or sounds appealing to me very well might not feel or sound so great to you. Many of us have similar body parts and anatomy, but the way our nerve endings respond to different sensations isn’t the same.
For example, many people enjoy stimulation of the clitoris or other parts of the vulva with a hand, vibrator, or mouth/tongue. However, some people don’t like that type of sensation. Some might find it too intense, or not intense enough. And any of that might be how a person feels about these kinds of sex all the time, even through a lifetime, or how they feel about it and the experiences they have might (and more often do) vary from one time of life to another, or feel one way in one sexual relationship or interaction, but different with another.
There is nothing wrong with liking this kind of sex or not liking it, as long as you recognize what you do and don’t like, and communicate with your partner if you are engaging in any activities that you don’t want to do (but more on consent and communication in a little bit). Additionally, people can experience pleasure on a spectrum. Something might feel neutral, mildly pleasant, or downright awesome. Just because something might not result in an explosive orgasm doe not mean that it is not a pleasurable experience. It might be helpful for you to check out Innies & Outies: The Vagina, Clitoris, Uterus and More for an overview of female sexual anatomy, as well as With Pleasure: A View of Whole Sexual Anatomy for Every Body to get more information about what parts of our body can provide us with sexual pleasure.
Something that’s important when experiencing sensation or pleasure with a partner is ensuring that you are mentally and physically aroused. Do you feel turned on when you are with your boyfriend? Do you feel sexual desire before engaging in any sexual activities? Many people’s bodies take time to warm up. What might not feel like anything if you aren’t turned on can feel amazing if you’re sexually aroused and with a partner that you are desiring. Additionally, if you aren’t feeling sexual attraction towards your partner (which feels different from general physical or emotional attraction), then it seems likely that you would not experience sexual pleasure from any type of sexual activity.
While feeling sexual arousal and attraction towards your partner can be necessary for pleasure, feeling any type of pressure is definitely not conducive to a positive sexual experience. Whether it’s external pressure (such as a partner asking “Did you orgasm yet!?”) or internal pressure that we put on ourselves, stress and sex do not go well together. Worrying about disappointing a partner is a huge barrier to really enjoying sexual activities together.
Read the rest at Scarleteen here!
Sevensinz asks:
I was wondering, can a doctor tell if you’ve masturbated? And in the case they can, is it possible to mistake it for being sexually active? I’m asking because I have a lot of health problems and I have to see an OB/GYNsoon, which means that there’s a chance the doctor will check to see if my vaginalooks right. And I’m really scared because I don’t want them to think that I’m sexually active, which with my health, would probably cause them to talk to my parents. And I’m just to shy to stick up for myself, so I really don’t want that to happen. Thanks in advance for your answer.
Robin Mandell replies:
No.
It is not possible for a gynecologistto tell if someone has been sexually active, either with themselves or with a partner through an examination. The only exception might be if you were examined shortly after masturbating; the doctor might notice redness or irritation of the vulvar tissues, but even then they would not be able to positively attribute that to masturbation. A doctor can tell by looking at someone’s vulva if their hymen has or hasn’t started wearing away, but that happens with or without any kind of sexual activity, including masturbation. A doctor often can also tell if and when someone has recently been sexually assaulted, particularly if that assault resulted in genital injuries.
The only way a doctor would know for sure that you’ve masturbated or been with a partner is if you told them.
In many areas — and most if you’re in the United States, Canada or the United Kingdom — your sexual health information is legally protected as private, and cannot be shared with your parents unless you give a healthcare provider permission to do so, or they feel your life or health is in real danger.
Read more at Scarleteen
On top of remembering that sexuality is so very diverse, I think it’s also very important all of us remember that sexuality is fluid, especially over a lifetime, and a lifetime is the length of time it truly takes to develop our sexuality. Something I find both hilarious and maddening all at once, for instance, are older people who criticize younger people for having a sexuality that resembles one of younger people rather than older people. It’s kind of like being annoyed with a three-year-old for being short. We all get to have, and need to have, developmental phases in our sexualities, and they get to be different from where other people are at.
Most people will have personal growth and change in their sexuality just like they will in all the other big parts of their lives and who they are. Someone’s journey in that, all of our journeys in that, is going to be as unique as we are. How long any of us stay in things that will be phasal for us, or stepping stones, is going to vary. If ever we have the idea that we’re helping someone to insist they be pushed out of a given place or sexuality “for their own good,” (or ours) we need to take a step back and check ourselves. While any of us can often be helped in our personal growth, real growth, the kind where we are simply becoming more of and the best of our unique selves, just can’t be forced, any more than we can — or should — try and force a plant to grow in conditions or an environment that just don’t really take it, rather than what people want from it, into account.
Patsy Niklas is someone I consider myself privileged to know in person. Until recently, she worked as the program manager for YEAH (Youth Empowerment Against HIV/AIDS) in Melbourne, coordinating volunteer training and taking care of the organisation’s social media.
Now she works with the Foundation for Young Australians on their Young People Without Borders project, helping young Australians get involved in volunteering and activism. In addition to all that, she hosts a weekly show about sex and relationships on Melbourne’s youth-run radio station, SYN. You can follow the awesomeness that is Patsy on twitter at @apatsy.
(Note: This interview was done while Patsy was still working for YEAH, so it focuses on her work there rather than her current work with FYA.)
What is it that got you started doing the work that you do? Was there a specific moment or event that prompted you get involved in sex education, or was it more gradual?
I suppose my interest in sex education comes from my experience – during university I was diagnosed with vaginismus, and spent a lot of time hanging out with my pelvic floor physiotherapist as she taught me to relax my vaginal muscles. It kind of surreal having chats with my doctor about politics, feminism and movies with her hand halfway up my clacker, but her sex-positive approach really inspired me to get into the field.
Read the rest of the interview at Scarleteen here!
When I began reading Heather Corinna’s s.e.x. I thought it might be too entry-level for me. Yet, while the book’s effort to be definitive means it necessarily covers some well-worn ground, it is invaluable as a thorough and detailed guide to the foundations of a healthy sexual life. It’s open-minded, it’s mind-opening, it’s engaging and it’s useful. I got a lot out of its ideas around relationships, sex, and sexual health. If you take the time to read it, I’m sure you’ll get something out of it too.
The morning after I had sex for the first time, I woke up with a crushing feeing that I’d done something evil and I was going to be caught and punished. The next time I saw my parents, I was terrified. I thought they were going to catch some nuance in my speech or gestures and go “Wait a second… you’re acting like a sex-haver! You are in so much trouble.” This didn’t happen, but the feeling of guilty terror lingered.And I think it was that guilty terror that led me to my paranoia. I was so convinced that I had been bad and would be punished, I believed biology itself would punish me. It didn’t help that I’d grown up hearing about how pregnancy and STIs were “consequences” for sex. Health class, parents, teachers, media, and peers had always talked about these things not as risks that adults have to manage, but as dire fates (or worse, humiliatingly comical fates) for sluts. At age 15, I took a certain toxic-girl-hate pride in being Responsible and Pure. At age 16, I’d had a penis inside me.
