What being a sex-positive feminist means to me
On widening our thinking, language, and experiences of healthy sex
I’ve found that a lot of cis heterosexual folx* have a very narrow, toxic understanding of sex and sexual pleasure — they place too much emphasis on penetrative sex, orgasms, and ignore the role of care in sex. Given the stigma and shaming of sex, and the stark absence of sex education in India, there is very little public conversation about healthy sexual practices. And for a society that is grappling with complex questions around sexual consent and sexual violence, we understand and speak too little about sex and sexual pleasure. Even when folx understand sex positivity in theory, many still fumble with putting it to practice. So I decided to write this post on explaining what I mean when I say I am pro-sex, and why you should be too (in your own ways), so we may expand our thinking, language, and experiences of healthy, feminist sex. This is what sex-positive feminism is for me, and hopefully it will open up some wider articulations and discussions around sexual liberation.
*“folx” is a queer-inclusive term for “folks”
[Author’s note: Some parts of this post are taken from several of my Twitter threads.]
Sex-positive feminism (also called pro-sex feminism) began as a movement that can be traced back to feminists in the1980s who began demanding that sexual liberation should be an important part of women’s liberation. This demand arose largely in opposition to anti-pornography feminists (in what are now popularly known as feminist / lesbian sex wars of the late 1970s and early 1980s). Pro-sex feminists thus began voicing and centring the patriarchal control of sexuality as one of the primary reasons for the continued subjugation of women. This gave us a language to understand the oppression of women, and in theory, empower us to liberate ourselves sexually.
Yet, having a language to articulate sex positivity does not (and should not) mean there is just one way to be sex positive. Your sex positivity may very well look different from mine, and I believe such disagreements about what different movements mean to us are healthy to have within feminism and social justice. This post is going to focus on what sex positivity means for me, and if it helps you perhaps locate some meaning for your own experiences, that would be enough for the purposes of this writing. I will part-by-part explore some concepts that are core to my understanding of sex positivity, and how everyone can practice them in their everyday lives. Because feminism is not just textbook theory, it is everyday lived experience.
Virginity and the compulsory script of sex
The dominant rhetoric around sex views it as a contest. The language of first base (kissing), second base (breasts), third base (genitals), and home-run (peno-vaginal penetrative sex) makes sex seem like a race to an orgasm. There is supposed to be this scripted linear progression of what should be done after what during sexual intercourse. So we call everything we do before penetrative sex as “foreplay” and just the act of penetrative sex as “sex.” We place lesser value on “making out” than we do on penetrative sex.
If you’ve not had specifically penis-in-vagina sex, you’re called a “virgin” which is a patriarchal and heterosexual way of thinking about sex. We obsess over whether a woman’s hymen in broken or intact, and classify women as virgins or non-virgins on the basis of it. Virginity is a social construct that commodifies women’s bodies, but is culturally emphasised upon heavily. Brides in some traditions have to wear white on their wedding day to signify purity and virginity. Mary is called a virgin in Christian mythology. A woman’s sexual “purity” is believed to be attached to her virginity, reducing a woman to her body, her vagina and giving men immense power over being able to “transform” women into non-virgins. Such an understanding of sex also erases experiences of lesbian, bisexual, trans* women, who are not considered to have “lost their virginity” unless they’ve had heterosexual sex with men.
Beyond virginity, in the past, some of my sexual partners (men as well as women) have been worried they’re not “doing this right”, have felt the need to shave their genitalia, and have faked orgasms to pass off being “good” at sex. This pressure in bed comes in only when we think of sex as a performance to be carried out in a specific way in order to be “good” at it. What does being good or bad at sex even mean? There is no right or wrong way to have sex as long as consent is respected. Thin, flexible, hairless bodies are not “better” at sex. We should focus on feeling good instead of doing it “right”, on enjoying the experience instead of worrying if we’re “good enough”, and understand that orgasms are not the goal of sex. Pleasure, in whatever way you may feel comfortable mutually experiencing it, is the only goal of sex.
Importance of care in sex
You can be caring without being in a romantic relationship. A toxic thing many straight folx do is treat sexual partners differently from romantic partners, especially during “casual” hookups without romantic commitments. Not having romantic feelings is used as a justification to not care about one’s sexual partner.
All women who have had “no strings attached” hookups have experienced this uncaring behaviour — the ghosting, the aversion to cuddling after sex, the cold messages when you’re not physically around each other, and the freaking out if you text a “♥️” or say you miss them. Women, you deserve a partner who is honest, respectful, and affectionate even if it’s a “casual” scene. You deserve to be with people who want to introduce you to their friends. It’s beautiful to be excited to see your partner, no matter how un-committed you are. Don’t accept trash treatment from men just because you don’t romantically like each other. Care has nothing to do with romance. It has everything to do with being a decent human being.
Fetishization of sex
Sex is considered more intimate, personal, and secretive than other forms of interaction. People are more reluctant to talk about their sex lives, listen to details about other’s sex lives, and are more guarded about who they share sexual intimacy with. But sex does not have to be more intimate than hugging, or cuddling, or having dinner with each other. Why should it be? This adds to a fetishization of sex. I’ve written before how this mystical fetishization of sex has harmful consequences like policing of women’s sexuality, viewing affronts to women’s sexual organs as more heinous than other violence, and thus demanding harsher punishments for sexual violence.
Being a queer bisexual woman, and having had many diverse but equally pleasurable and satisfying experiences of sex, I’ve come to learn that sexual preferences are varied, but all equally valid. Yet heterosexual folx perform this toxic regulation of sex that benefits nobody.
Consent and male pleasure
You can’t write a post on sex-positivity without flagging some of the nuances of consent. Consent of course is not limited to sexual interactions, but here, I will focus on consent during sex. As I’ve said above, regulation of how we should have sex, and what we value within the ambit of sex, benefits nobody. I think the only “right” and feminist way to have sex is by actively seeking and valuing consent and respecting bodily autonomy. Everything else is negotiable through conversations about boundaries, preferences, and kinks without judgments and shaming. How do you do this? I want to spend a little space here explaining how one can practice this.
I’ve heard from many men that “stopping to ask for consent” at each point during sex kills the “mood.” This is simply not true. Not only is consent mandatory, it is also very sexy. Men, here is a crash course in How To Keep Consent Sexy In Bed In Less Than 5 Steps -
Step 1. It is mad sexy to politely ask, “Can I kiss you?” Ask, instead of sticking your tongue in someone’s mouth because you read some imaginary non-verbal cues about them wanting it. If someone doesn’t want it, they shouldn’t have to say “no”. Not saying “yes” should be enough. Silence should be enough. Any other utterance should be enough. Unless someone explicitly in their conscious mind says “yes”, it’s a “no”. Forget no means no. Follow yes means yes.
Step 2. This is not just for the first kiss, continue taking consent at each step. I assure you it is sexy to whisper in someone’s ear, “Can I touch you?” “Do you like that?” “Do you want me to continue?” “Are you comfortable?” Use your words. Use them sexily. Put in some effort.
Step 3. Establish clear boundaries with conversations. Talk about your boundaries beforehand, what are no-no’s, what you’re into. This way you can still explore “new stuff” and keep the “kink” that everyone is so worried about losing if you have to take consent at every step. There are also web apps for this if you need — you enter yours and your partner’s email addresses and it sends you both a list of questions about things you’re comfortable with in bed, and you can both independently take the questionnaires and it’ll share your responses with each other, and you can then have a conversation about them.
Step 4. Have conversations with your partner even after sex every single time. “Did any part of this make you feel uncomfortable?” “Could I have done something differently to make it more comfortable for you?” Make it a part of pillow talk routine if you need to, to keep it sexy.
Step 5. There isn’t even a Step 5 (I wasn’t lying when I said less than 5 steps), it’s that simple. But if you still think this is too difficult, then deal with it like an adult and learn. Because you know what’s significantly more difficult? The experience of having your consent violated during sex.
These are all equally applicable to relationships. Being in a romantic relationship with someone does not entitle you to their bodies. Sex positivity does not mean that you have to be up for sex any time your partner desires. Consent needs to be taken at all stages in all forms of sexual interactions, irrespective of the relationship you share with your partner.
How is it that men are self-proclaimed experts in reading women’s bodies when it comes to catching onto “obvious” non-verbal cues (“she definitely wanted it!”) but are suddenly naive puppies when it comes to catching onto the signs of a woman’s obvious discomfort? Women have spent centuries in discomfort for the pleasure of men. So even the possibility of a woman’s discomfort should be reason enough to cut a man’s pleasure short. Male pleasure should only include those actions that live up to a very very high standard of explicit consent. If it is off-putting for you to continuously take consent, please reflect on what it says about yourself if you think that your mood is more important than someone’s safety and comfort. Please reflect on what it says about your views on sex if it is fun for only one person involved. Consent is sexy when you do it right.
Whom is sex positivity for?
As a survivor of rape and sexual violence, I have a complicated relationship with sex. It is an experience that with consent respected like described above, has been pleasurable and positive for me, but when consent has been violated, has been a source of great trauma, fear, and negativity. Being sex positive does not mean that it’s about having a simple, uncomplicated relationship with sex. It includes and recognizes all the pain and regret that women may have experienced during sex.
Sex positivity also recognizes that sex is not desirable for everybody. There may be many reasons for why some folx are indifferent to sex, not interested in sex, repulsed by sex, or scared of sex, and these are all valid even if you don’t relate to understand them. Some folx identify as asexual, some folx identify as aromantic, and respecting those preferences is a part of sex positivity.
For me, sex positivity does not mandate body positivity. While it is liberating to love yourself and your body (and we should all try to), there are many valid reasons why folx feel ashamed of or uncomfortable with their bodies. Women and trans* queer folx are conditioned from a young age to dislike their bodies, and to attain unrealistic standards of beauty to be likeable. But you do not have to love your naked body for others to respect you in bed. Everyone deserves respect.
Sex positivity recognizes intersectionality. It recognizes that people hold multiple identities of gender, sexuality, caste, religion, class, ability… For instance, as a Brahmin queer woman, I am privileged through my caste identity but face some oppressions through my marginalized sexuality. Having such identities that are often at odds with each other means there are bound to be power dynamics in any sexual interactions. So, we need sex positivity as a framework to be able to critique and analyze what is happening for instance when cis gay men refuse to have sex with trans* men, when professors have sex with students, when older men repeatedly seek out sex with significantly younger women.
I want a sex-positive feminism that recognizes and is here for women like me, and women different from me. For survivors of sexual violence. For asexual folx. For aromantic folx. For folx who find it difficult to love themselves and their bodies. For folx who are still healing from the trauma of sex.
Let’s discard the language of sex that makes it feel like a football game to be won rather than a mutually consensual pleasurable experience. Let’s drop this script and this fixed pattern of sex that needs to progress from one “base” to another. Let’s be caring of our partners. Let’s value each other’s consent and respect each other’s bodily autonomy during sex and otherwise. Let’s not fetishize sex to be more valuable than other forms of interaction. Let’s open ourselves up to the idea that sex, like people, is fluid.
That, according to me, is what sex positivity is all about. The acknowledgement and acceptance of the many diverse ways diverse folx experience sexual pleasure, without the pressure to conform to or perform a particular way. That is sexual liberation after all.
