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Let’s talk about sex, baby

Let’s talk about sex, baby

Sex is a word fraught with many connotations. Are you having it? If so, who with? If someone meets you for the first time and they find out you’re gay, that’s one of the first things that comes to their mind; the HOW and WHO of sex.

I have found myself, over the years, having interesting conversations about sex And I can’t help but notice that people look at me differently when I have an open discussion with them. It’s like they’re thinking, “Oh, I didn’t know you were into that …”

For generations sex has remained one thing, if nothing else: fun. And we should be having as much of it is as we can.

I had conversations about sex all weekend. I talked with gay men, lesbians spanning from 24-to 49-years-old, queer identified women, sexologists and a lesbian psychology student that wants to be a sex therapist.

The conversations were about open relationships, non-monogamous relationships, monogamy, sex and aging, “boring” sex, kink, toys, toy stores, sex workers, BDSM, leather, porn, lesbian porn: a lot of great conversations. Earlier in my life I couldn’t have imagined I would have a philosophical opinion one way or the other about sex, let alone be willing to express it in a conversation. It has been enlightening, educational and titillating all at the same time.

I felt liberated. I have found my voice and I will not miss any opportunity to share it. This isn’t about pontificating; it is about being open and honest about who I am and how I feel.

The ’70s era of open sexuality has been a recurring point of ponderance for me this summer. I have been lamenting about how much easier sex was back in the disco days. There seemed to be more freedom with how one could sexually express themselves back then. Men and women wore platform shoes, had long hair and wore make-up. Women were owning their orgasm, looking at their “vajajay’s” for the first time and burning their bras. Straight men could express themselves however they wanted, and they were not pinned as being “gay.”
I am proudly a lesbian and absolutely free with discussion about the “roles” that we find ourselves in within relationships. However, I do not like one aspect of my life to define who I am. And as I was having these conversations this weekend, it occurred to me that people, gay or straight, often define themselves by the HOW and the WHO.

Anyone that spends time with me knows that I talk a lot about joy, and in my opinion a healthy attitude about sex is necessary to experience true joy. We spend too much time thinking about what other people think about our sex life, that we don’t spend time fully enjoying it.

It’s not really our fault.

Growing up, we are not given that much opportunity to discuss sex. We get “sex ed” in school, if we’re lucky, but very rarely does that include a discussion about something other than the anatomy and procreation aspects of sex. In fact, society’s understanding of what sex is comes predominantly from a straight, white male perspective. I am none of those things. So, I am always surprised when people think that my opinion doesn’t reflect that same ideal. No, in fact, I don’t think that’s sexy at all. And why are you judging me for not being attracted to what you are? Isn’t that the whole point of the saying “different strokes for different folks?”

I am reminded of being a kid and walking into Spencer Gifts, the novelty store. There was a whole section in the back of the store that you couldn’t even go in if you were under 18. I was fascinated with the idea of seeing what was back there. If you were to ask, you were told that it’s only for adults. No explanation. In fact, when you finally are old enough, there’s still no one to explain it to you.

Seriously, who do you ask?

Not to mention, you also have to be brave enough to muster up the courage and ask.

I think most people would have a much healthier understanding of pleasure if people weren’t too uptight or afraid to ask questions.

When I figured out that I was a lesbian, I saw it as my opportunity to graduate from the idea of “vanilla sex.” I am a lesbian, so obviously I don’t fall in the “norm.” So, why would I choose to engage in “vanilla” hetero-normative sex? Because my sexuality is outside of the lines, shouldn’t the sex itself be too?

Maybe we could petition the mayor to consider creating a “Sexual Freedom Day.” A day where you allow yourself to truly enjoy sex, period. My guess is that the next day, a lot more people would be smiling, laughing and enjoying all that life has to offer.

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