Tag Archives: Sexuality

Photo by Alberto Alonso G.

The topic of sex came up at lunch last week.

Well, technically I lead the conversation in that direction when someone else sitting at the table made a comment that could either be taken innocuously or….otherwise.

Of course I chose the second option.

I might be quiet most of the time in real life, but there’s always been a deep-seated ornery streak in my personality. 😉

I’d spent the last few hours of that meal tamping down everything that might have ruffled feathers at that table: my (lack of) religion; my sexual orientation; my political views; my cheerful childlessness.

(Whether or not doing this is a smart idea in the longterm might be fodder for another post someday, but I digress).

The funny thing about doing this kind of exercise is how easy it is for the mask to slip off, especially when you’re not used to wearing it.

So back to the sex talk. You’d be surprised by how much communication can be accomplished with a raised eyebrow and a few carefully-selected words. Anyone who didn’t know what we were talking about would have had to strain to hear what I was saying. Even then I had plausible deniability thanks to all of the wonderful double entendres in the English language.

Oh, the blushing. The faintest rumbles of it might have even been felt in Thunder Bay. It wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. The people I was sitting closest to at that table aren’t exactly known for being easily embarrassed.

Mission accomplished, I grinned and changed the subject. There’s a different between teasing someone and making them actively uncomfortable.

Although it did make me wonder why it is that (some parts of) western culture are comfortable dancing around the topic of sex but get flustered if you wander too close to it?

What do you think?

One of the most puzzling aspects of US culture is the difference between how people react to violence and how they react to sex in the media.

Violence pops up regularly in almost every genre, even in material written specifically for children. Sex may be hinted at but unless a movie or television show is rated for mature audiences it is much less common for characters to be featured in a graphic sexual scene.

Apparently it’s ok to air story lines about people being:

• tortured
• raped
• decapitated
• skinned alive
• dismembered
• kidnapped
• blown up
• shot
• stabbed
• mutilated

Yet it is equally unacceptable to show a nipple at the same time slots.

Why?

Why is sexuality so much more frightening than violence? How can murder be less offensive than two characters having consensual sex? These aren’t rhetorical questions. The longer I live outside of the US the less I understand certain aspects of their culture.

Possible explanations:

Desensitization. Violent art and other creative works have been around for so long and have become more graphic so gradually that the average person does not necessarily think about what it is their minds are absorbing.

(some) Violence is Cartoonish. That is, it doesn’t accurately represent how an action plays out in the real world. Certain guns, for example, do far more damage to a body than what is typically portrayed on tv or the movies.

Easier Conversations. Do some parents find it easier to bring up something in conversation that most people do not personally experience than something that the vast majority of people are going to do eventually?

Moral Qualms. Religious beliefs influence so much of how and what we think about sex and sexuality. It does make sense that people would think it was wrong to see graphic representations of sex if their religious backgrounds taught them not to seek out such subject matter or that certain acts were a sin. What I don’t understand, though, is why there aren’t more religious objections to violence in the media. If it’s sinful to watch someone having what your religion considers to be illicit sex shouldn’t it be just as (if not more) wicked to see a character being raped or murdered?

Internal Conflict. Western society (especially, but not only, in the US) is deeply conflicted about sexuality and how it is expressed. What we say isn’t necessarily what we  believe and what we believe often has little to do with what we actually do.

What do you think?

There were many things that the school that I attended from the mid 90s to early 00s did well. Sex education was not one of them.  The midwestern community that I lived in was rural, religious and conservative and the powers that be had determined that the best thing they could teach teenagers about sex is how dangerous it was so we wouldn’t have anything to do with it. Even if the curriculum they chose for us had to lie to convince us to remain or to become abstinent.

A few highlights from my adventures in abstinence-only sex education as a young teen:

Pet Your Dog, Not Your Date

This is the workbook page that stands out the most in my memory. The point being, sublimate your erotic energy into strengthening your emotional bonds, not substitute your pet for your significant other. (er, I hope.)

I’ve never actually figured out why this phrase ever saw the light of day. It’s ripe for mis-interpretation and doesn’t address any practical methods for understanding or coming to accept one’s emerging sexuality.

Hole-y Condoms

Holes too tiny to see with the naked eye, they argued, but large enough for the AIDS virus and sperm to sneak through could be found in every condom available for sale. There was a drawing in our textbook of sperm swimming through holes in a condom. Other forms of birth control were mentioned briefly as well, but only to point out their failure rates and the potential side effects of each type of contraception. Even sterilization, we were warned, could fail to prevent a pregnancy. And no form of birth control could protect our hearts.

Men Want Sex, Women Want Romance

(un)Remarkably, at least for that time and place,  the exercises we were to consider virtually always involved the myriad of ways in which a teenage girl could say no to sex with her would-be (male) suitor. Rarely a teenage male protagonist would ponder how to preserve his manliness without having sex with his lady-friend. In either scenario, though, it was assumed that one member of the (always heterosexual) couple yearned for sex from the depths of their loins, the other member of the couple wasn’t ready and that each of them would always assume the same role in that aspect of their relationship.

Here’s the thing: I felt something was wrong from the very beginning of this class and the condom hole mythlead me to assume that everything they said about sex was a lie.Other than the basic physiology of the reproductive organs and a few other simple biological facts, I’ve rejected everything they taught us. Women are not responsible for the sexual urges of other people. Sex is not the only thing men think about. Not everyone grows up to be heterosexual. Having sex has nothing at all to do with whether you’re a decent human being.

I shudder whenever I hear about current middle or high school student being taught about abstinence even though I tend to agree that the majority of teenagers are not emotionally or socially prepared to handle the possibility of pregnancy or a sexually transmitted infection. (Of course, I’ve also known people who were 30, 40, 50 years old and still nowhere near being ready to accept the consequences of their actions, sexual or otherwise.)

To be fair, there are some valuable lessons I learned from my abstinence-only sex education.

1. Don’t lie. It erodes the trust of others.
2. Exaggerating, manipulating or massaging the truth is worse than lying because it is so easily passed down to the next generation. This is how urban legends and myths are created.
3. Stereotypes are as destructive to the people who fit into them as they are to the people who do not.
4. Prepare for the worst but never assume that it’s the only possible (or most likely) outcome.
5. Ultimately, each one of us can only be held responsible for what we do or say as individuals. I’m not responsible for your actions or thoughts, you’re equally not responsible for mine.