Month: April 2020

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Xs & Os:

Couples Who Regularly Show Physical Affection Have Happier Relationships

by John Anderer

Cuddling, hugging, and touching that doesn’t lead to sex can help build a stronger and happier relationship and marriage, according to a new study conducted at Binghamton University. The research team examined the effect of non-sexual physical intimacy on relationship satisfaction across a variety of attachment styles.

One’s “attachment style” refers to how comfortable a person is regarding both physical and emotional intimacy. Some people crave such affection, while others are more reserved and selective. These tendencies usually develop within a person during their childhood, but they can also change over time as well.

“It all depends on how open, close and secure you feel with that person, which is impacted by many, many factors,” explains study leader Samantha Wagner, a Binghamton University doctoral student in psychology, in a release.

To examine the connection between marital or relationship satisfaction, attachment style, and touch satisfaction, a group of 184 couples were gathered for the study. All participants were over the age of 18, and no same-sex couples were included. People receiving hormone therapy, and pregnant or breastfeeding women, were also excluded due to the study including hormonal sampling.

Each participant was interviewed separately and asked about their attachment style, the usual amount of touching and affection in their relationship, and their overall happiness with the relationship.

Before starting the study, researchers expected to find that avoidant people wouldn’t enjoy being touched and anxious people would like more physical affection. The findings, though, weren’t as cut and dry as expected.

Regardless of attachment styles, the more a couple reported showing physical affection towards one another, the more satisfied they felt with their partner’s touch. Anxious husbands tended to be less satisfied with their wife’s touch if physical affection was infrequent, but the same relationship wasn’t observed in anxious women. This suggests, according to the study’s authors, that women may look for missing affection more naturally.

Higher overall levels of physical intimacy were linked to more relationship satisfaction in men, and low levels of physical intimacy were linked to relationship dissatisfaction in women. It’s subtle, but researchers believe those two findings point to distinct differences in the genders. For men, physical intimacy is a nice extra, but for women it’s a necessity.

“There’s something specific about touch satisfaction that interplays with relationship satisfaction but not dissatisfaction for wives,” Wagner notes.

Additionally, regardless of attachment styles, touch perception was associated with “touch satisfaction.” Essentially, this means more touching is beneficial because it helps partners communicate without actually speaking. All in all, researchers believe their work indicates non-sexual physical affection can help build a strong relationship.

“Interestingly, there’s some evidence that holding your partner’s hand while you’re arguing de-escalates the argument and makes it more productive,” Wagner comments.

Just like anything else, there are exceptions to these observations. Someone with physical abuse in their past may not react positively to lots of touching, for example.

“Feel free to give some extra snugs on the couch. There’s plenty of evidence that suggests touch as a way to decrease stress,” she concludes.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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What it’s like to be sharing a polyamorous home during lockdown

Love in the time of coronavirus is tough enough for two. Adding a third or fourth romantic partner to the quarantine equation only makes life more complicated.

by Abby Moss

Quarantine is putting a lot of strain on people in relationships. For long-term couples, being trapped under the same roof 24/7 is inevitably going to cause friction. And while people might have entered lockdown expecting daytime sex and boozy lunches, many have ended up with arguments over whose turn it is to go queue at the supermarket. Divorce rates went through the roof in China post lockdown, and there’s no reason to expect things will be any different in the UK. For people in the early days of a relationship, it’s even tougher. There’s only so much phone sex you can have before things start to go stale.

For people in polyamorous relationships these complications are multiplied, and quarantine has forced some tough decisions. Some polyamorous people have been forced to choose one (or more than one) partner over others, while others have taken the choice to quarantine together. Polyamorous relationships aren’t exactly mainstream, and polyamorous individuals are more likely to reject traditional labels for their sexualities. However, the concept of exploring sex and relationships outside of monogamy is certainly on the rise. Five percent of people in relationships report practicing some form of consensual non-monogamy and dating app Feeld — dubbed ‘Tinder for threesomes’ — is reportedly thriving.

Billy Procida is the host of The Manwhore Podcast and has been in his current polyamorous relationship for 10 months. Billy lives in Brooklyn but is currently quarantined in Jersey City with his girlfriend Megan and Megan’s partner Kyle. “I figured if I’m going to be stuck somewhere, I’d rather be stuck with someone I love,” Billy tells me over the phone. Their quarantine started out on a trial basis when Billy happened to be in the area after a comedy gig, before a full lockdown was announced. Billy explains that they wanted to test the waters first and make sure the arrangement worked for everyone. The longest amount of time he and Megan had spent together prior to lockdown was on a five-day road trip. Luckily, they realised the set up was going to work out, and they’re now over a month into being quarantined together.

“People think it’s a 24-hour fuck fest, but, I don’t know, something about a global pandemic being mishandled by the most powerful world leaders… yeah, that doesn’t make me feel so horny.”

Unlike some poly couples, Billy, Megan and Kyle are not all in a relationship together, but rather in a “V formation”, in other words, Billy and Kyle are not in a relationship with each other. I wanted to know if this caused any animosity between them. “Not at all,” says Billy instantly. “The only beef he’s had with me is ‘cause I’m kind of messy. Or he might be like ‘Billy can you crack a window if you’re gonna smoke weed in here?’” The dynamic isn’t all that different to being in a house share.

Billy doesn’t feel that his quarantine experience is all that different from that of monogamous couples. “I mean, we’re all still sitting around here in our sweatpants watching Netflix,“ he explains. “People think it’s a 24-hour fuck fest, but, I don’t know, something about a global pandemic being mishandled by the most powerful world leaders… yeah, that doesn’t make me feel so horny.” Quarantine has, however, helped him think up new ways of showing affection and expressing his feelings. “I’m naturally quite romantic,” he says. “I’ve had to think of new ways to be romantic, which in quarantine might just be something small like making her a cup of matcha tea for when she wakes up. Or perhaps an act of love could just be giving Megan some time and space to be by herself.”

Claire (not her real name) has been married for three years. When full lockdown was announced, Claire, her husband, and their girlfriend of six months chose not to quarantine together. “We did discuss it, but we all decided it was too soon to be doing that, that it would put too much pressure on the relationship,” she explained. “But now that we’ve been apart for a few weeks it’s made us realise how much we all mean to each other. We’re all really missing each other and it’s been tough.” They have been regularly catching up on FaceTime and having virtual date nights, but Claire is worried for the future of the relationship. “I really feel for anyone in a new relationship right now,” she says. “Ours is no different, it’s still got that new relationship feeling, we’re still excited by one another, and trying to keep that spark going while we’re physically separated is hard.”

For Daniel Saynt — founder of New York sex club NSFW — the quarantine has left him and his relationships in limbo. Daniel was on vacation with one of his partners when the full lockdown was announced and the pair are now stuck on St Maarten. “I feel like I’m in some kind of limbo,” Daniel explains over email. “Like I’m in poly purgatory. I’m very happy to be with one of my partners, but I am severely missing my other partners and hope I can see them again before the connection diminishes.” Being with just one partner for an extended period isn’t something Daniel is used to. I wanted to know what quarantine had taught him about relationships, connection, and intimacy. “Being forced to be ‘monogamish’ has been a lesson for me,“ he says. I know I’m capable of being with one person, but it’s not what I want. And not getting what I want has taught me a lot about patience, acceptance, and how I love. I’m still very much in lust and love with the partner who is with me, but it’s a relationship based on restrictions out of our control. Will we still feel this way once the world becomes available to us?”

In the weeks and months to come the world will begin to return to normal. Once going on Tinder dates and meeting matches from Feeld becomes a possibility, how many relationships, (monogamous or poly) will survive? “We keep joking that if we can survive this, they’ll be no breaking us up,” says Claire. “We’ll be the toughest triad going. But for now, we’re just taking it day by day, just like the rest of the world.”

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Now’s the Time to Learn How to Sext

Social distancing doesn’t have to kill your sex life. 

By Amanda Chatel

In the uncharted waters of COVID-19, life has been put on hold. Dating IRL has gone digital—and sex? Let’s just say it’s a great time to learn how to sext. Even if you’ve never sexted in the past, didn’t have an interest in it, or just never had it come up, more people are turning to their devices for intimacy that’s not just possible in person right now.

“We have a lot more time than normal on our hands,” says Megan Stubbs, a sexologist and sex and relationships coach. “While sexting is great for couples who are already established but apart because of COVID-19, it’s also great for new relationships (i.e., meeting on a dating app), because it establishes a connection.” Connecting with someone in an intimate way can help relieve stress while staying house-bound. “The best part is you can edit what you say, and you get to be playful and creative,” Stubbs says.

Sexting can be intimidating, whether you’re messaging someone you’re in a long-term relationship with or a relative stranger. We get it. But if you’ve put off learning how to sext, there’s no time like the present. Here are five experts with your ultimate guide on sexting.

1. Ask for consent.

“Just because you’re in the head space to start sexting, that doesn’t necessarily mean your sexting pal is,” says Alicia Sinclair, CEO of sex-toy maker Children of the Revolution and certified sex educator. Checking in with your partner is required before you go from zero to 60. “Unless of course, you’ve already pre-negotiated or established you have sexting carte blanche,” she says.

Sexting example: “Hey you! Had you on my mind and wanted to share some NSFW thoughts. Are you into that right now?”

2. Know your angles.

“If you’re incorporating photo or video into your sexting routine, know your angles,” says Cassandra Corrado, sex educator and brand consultant. “I don’t mean the view that makes your ass look like the best version of itself—I mean the angles that keep you the most digitally safe. We don’t often want to think about sexual and digital safety when it comes to sexting, but you have to.”

Corrado makes a great point. Even if you’re sexting with a partner and you trust them, you still never know where those photos could end up. So when it comes to your face and distinguishing features, like tattoos, do yourself a favor and keep them out of view. Or even add a fake tattoo for fun.

Sexting example: “I’m sending you a photo of my hand down my undies and I want you to know I’m wishing they were your hands instead.”

3. Tease, tease, tease.

Just like when it comes to sex, there’s no sense in rushing it. “Don’t give it all away with the first sext,” Sinclair says. “Tell them what you want to do to them, or send them a naughty picture. Take your time.”

Sexting example: “Thinking about what I want to do to you has been driving me crazy. I get more and more turned on every time I imagine it.”

4. Be creative.

“While sexting might, in some people’s minds, mean going straight for the genitals, you can actually talk around it in a creative way,” Stubbs says.

Sexting example: “Tell me what you’d do to me if we were together in a room with just whipped cream, one candle, and no mattress in sight.”

5. Don’t skip the foreplay.

If you wouldn’t skip the foreplay while you’re with someone in person, you shouldn’t skip it during sexting either. “Foreplay and anticipation in any sexual play (aka the buildup) is what helps make the grand finale so special,” Sinclair says.

Sexting example: “Let’s take this as far as we can, slowly. Then let ourselves orgasm.”

6. Have your thirst traps locked and loaded.

“Visuals are important when sexting, and in the age of social distancing, the more you’ve got the better,” says Daniel Saynt, sex educator and founder of the New Society for Wellness (NSFW), a private community of sex-positive workshops and experiences. “Take a lesson from gay culture and consider having a library of naughty pics and videos in your arsenal for when you’re ready to sext.”

Sexting example: “Do you want to see a photo of what I’m wearing right now?”

7. Do what makes you feel sexy.

As many of these experts have pointed out, nude photos are definitely hot—especially if you’re comfortable with the person and you take the time to edit them for the sake of privacy. But, as Saynt points out, you don’t have to be totally naked in whatever photos you’re sharing. As the saying goes, sometimes less is more. “If you don’t want to go full nude, don’t feel that you have to,” Saynt says. “This is about what makes you feel sexy.”

Sexting example: “I’m sending you a photo that’s going to leave a lot to the imagination.”

8. Use a memory.

If the person you’re sexting with is someone you’ve been in a relationship with, then Stubbs suggests pulling out a hot memory, one that neither one of you will ever forget, and go from there.

Sexting example: “Remember that time in the elevator when I went down on you a few months ago?”

9. Share a fantasy.

We all have fantasies. Even if you’ve yet to explore them, they’re there. So if you’re looking to dip your toes in those waters, sexting is a chance to do that. “It’s completely normal for all of us to have fantasies,” says Sinclair. “Sexting is the perfect opportunity to share that you want to be tied up, want to tie your partner up, experiment with role playing, or try double penetration.”

Sexting example: “I feel like you’ve been really naughty lately. So naughty that I’m going to need to tie you up to teach you a lesson!”

10. Step outside your comfort zone.

One of the best parts about sex is that there’s always room to experiment. “When sexting for the first (or 40th) time, people often feel they have to follow a particular script,” says Corrado. “The thing that makes sexting fun is getting to explore desire and fantasy in a different medium, so don’t feel locked into any one script or persona.”

Sexting example: “I think it’s my turn to tell you what to do.”

11. Don’t forget to include voice notes.

Voice notes don’t exist only to make life easier when you want to get your point across to someone quickly; they also come in handy when you want to use your voice to entice your partner. “Voice notes allow you to tap into your lover’s audial desires,” says Jess O’Reilly, sexologist, relationship expert, and author of the upcoming book The Ultimate Guide to Seduction & Foreplay: Techniques and Strategies for Mind-Blowing Sex. “For those of us who are auditory learners, the sound of a lover’s voice, even if they are not talking dirty, can be overwhelmingly hot.”

Try lowering your voice and speaking softly while telling your partner what you want to do to them or what you want them to do to you. “Build anticipation by sending one sentence at a time over the course of a day or week,” says O’Reilly.

Sexting example: “Tell me how the sound of my voice makes you feel.”

12. Make up a scenario.

Although creativity does score points when it comes to sexting, making up a scenario doesn’t have to be complicated, according to Stubbs. Even tossing out there the possibility of you just showing up at their house as a surprise can feel exciting.

Sexting example: “What would you do if I showed up at your house in nothing but a trench coat right now?”

13. Realize this could be practice for the real deal.

If you’re sexting with someone you’ve recently met on an app but haven’t been able to meet IRL, you could be practicing for the real deal—if you do want to meet after all this. This practice allows you to know each other intimately before that first, potentially awkward date.

Sexting example: “I guess if dinner and drinks feels awkward, we already know what we want in bed. Tell me again what you’ll do to me first?”

14. Take turns being the narrator.

“At its most basic, there are two central roles that you can take while talking dirty: the director or the narrator,” says Corrado. “The director is someone who is doing the telling, while the narrator is describing what is happening around them.” One role might feel more comfortable to you and the other to your partner, so you just might fall into them naturally. But this doesn’t mean you can’t switch it up.

Example of director: “I want you to use your vibrator on your clit, but you can’t come until I say so.”

Example of narrator: “I love it when you tease me that way.”

15. Get creative with language.

Honestly, there’s only so many times you can say “pussy” or “cock” before it wears thin. That’s why, according to O’Reilly, creative language is a must. “Consider crafting your messages with broad and vivid vocabulary,” she says.

Sexting example: “I wish you were here to feel how wet my treasure trove is.”

16. Keep the conversation going.

There’s nothing worse than getting all hot and bothered and then there’s a lull. Like, WTF. “Engage and try not to be unresponsive during moments when the sexting is consistent,” Saynt says. “There’s nothing worse than someone losing interest or getting distracted on either side, so try to be there for your partner and be sure to call them out when they seem to not be there for you.”

Sexting example: “I’m not sure where you went, but if you haven’t come yet, let’s work on that together.”

17. Get all five senses involved.

“Your sexting partner isn’t there with you, so they only have your words (and their imagination) to figure out what’s going on,” Corrado says. “If you’re describing to them the ways that you’re touching yourself, make it a sensory experience.” According to Corrado, you want the person you’re sexting to feel as if they’re right there, seeing, feeling, hearing, smelling, and tasting it all.

Sexting example: “The leather chair I’m sitting in feels so good on my skin right now.”

18. Role-play.

It’s exhausting always being the same person, isn’t it? Stubbs suggests setting up a role-play situation. This is another place where you can let your mind run wild. Did you just receive a text from a stranger that must orgasm ASAP to save the planet?! It’s totally okay to be silly while sexting!

Sexting example: “You don’t know me, but I’m from Venus and I’ve been given your number to make you wetter than you’ve ever been before.”

19. Communicate what you want.

Unless your sexting partner is a mind reader—or you’ve been together that long, you’re going to have to communicate and maybe even steer the direction of the sexting. “Want your partner to engage in a little fantasy play? Looking to have them say dirty things to you? Communicate what you want and ask for all the naughty things you know you deserve,” Saynt says. “Most likely your partner will be down to comply with giving you exactly what you’re looking for.”

Sexting example: “Tell me what you want me to do with my hands right now.”

20. And consider what arouses your partner.

Even if you’ve yet to meet IRL, a few rounds of sexting will give you an idea of what your “lover’s seduction learning style” is, according to O’Reilly. It’s in these cases that you can really cater to your partner and their exact desires by crafting “messages that make them feel sexy, desired, curious, excited, relaxed, challenged, loved, nervous, catered to, enticed, and more,” she says. “Take advantage of the variety of options including photos, videos, voice notes, text, GIFs, and live chats.”

Sexting example: “I want to know exactly what you want right now, so I want you to tell me in detail.”

21. Let sexting help you get over your fear of dirty talk.

Not everyone is comfortable using the type of words you find in sexting—and that’s totally fine! But for as long as we’re all cooped up at home, quarantined and isolated from current and future lovers, sexting is a great way to get over any cringiness.

Sexting example: “I want you to tease my clit with that dildo.”

22. Be ready to go live.

Going live isn’t for everybody, but the hotter it gets, the more likely you’ll be ready to go there, says Saynt. With that in mind, be ready for it. “As the sexting gets hotter and hotter, you may be asked to open up some live video to bring the conversation to the next level,” Saynt says. “Plan a time for this so that you can be ready for your close-up. Be voyeuristic and ask to just watch if you want the experience without having to show your goodies. Most partners will jump at the chance to show off for your pleasure.”

Sexting example: “I’m getting so close. Want to move this to FaceTime?”

23. Take time for aftercare.

“Sexting is unique because it’s a both partnered and solo sexual experience, and that can come with some intense emotions,” says Corrado. “If you find yourself feeling out of sorts once things have wrapped up, take time for physical self-care. Be mindful of how you’re touching your body, taking extra care and paying attention to how your own hands feel on you.”

According to Corrado, this can help ground you, especially if you’re feeling a bit lonely after the sexting session. This is the perfect time to light a candle and draw yourself a calming bath.

Sexting example: “Woo. That was a hot session. Now it’s time to take it easy and relish in how good it was.”

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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What Does Asexual Mean? Definitions & How To Know If You’re “Ace”

Definitions & How To Know If You’re “Ace”

By Suzannah Weiss

Even as people gain more awareness of LGBTQ+ identities, asexuality remains poorly understood by many. Until recently, lots of people assumed that everyone was sexually attracted to someone or another. But in fact, some people don’t experience sexual attraction. Here’s what you should understand about being asexual, or “ace” for short.

The National LGBTQ Task Force defines asexuality as “a sexual orientation where a person experiences little to no sexual attraction to anyone and/or does not experience desire for sexual contact.” Different people define it differently for themselves, however. For some, it’s more about a lack of sexual desire, while for others, it’s just a lack of desire for anyone. And while some feel neutral about sexual activity, others are put off by the idea of it.

Asexuality exists on a spectrum that ranges from “no sexual interest or feelings at all” to “maybe sex under very specific circumstances,” explains Good Vibrations staff sexologist Carol Queen, Ph.D. Some people may feel more comfortable saying that they’re on the asexual spectrum than classifying themselves as asexual since it leaves wiggle room for different gradations of the identity.

Aromantic, panromantic, and more

An aromantic person is someone who isn’t interested in romantic relationships, though they may still be interested in sexual relationships. “They might be put off by the idea of [romantic partnerships] or just experience little or no desire or interest,” says Queen. A panromantic person, on the flip side, is open to romantic relationships with any gender, though they may or may not experience sexual attraction. So someone could be panromantic asexual, for example, or aromantic asexual. Or somewhere in between!

“Demisexuals still experience sexual attraction but in a way that centers emotions rather than lust,” explains sex and relationship therapist Cyndi Darnell. Often, demisexual people don’t feel sexually attracted to someone until they get to know them.

Some people use the term “graysexual” to refer to being somewhere in between asexual and sexual. “If you’re graysexual, you sometimes feel sexual attraction but not always,” says Queen.

Can asexual people fall in love?

One popular misconception is that asexual people can’t fall in love—but they absolutely can. “Sex does not equal love,” says LGBTQ+ expert and dual-licensed social worker Kryss Shane. Someone who doesn’t tend to fall in love would more likely designate themselves as aromantic, says Queen. Some asexual people get into romantic relationships, and some have sexual relationships with their partners.

Just like it’s not really clear what makes someone heterosexual, we don’t know what makes someone asexual, says Darnell. Some people feel they were always that way, while others may become asexual because they feel that societal conventions around how people have sex don’t work for them, says Queen.

Where you are on the asexual spectrum may change throughout your life. For example, some women begin identifying as asexual due to hormonal shifts around menopause, says Queen. Some young people might begin to identify as asexual after having sex and realizing they don’t enjoy it. “But very often, if someone ‘comes out’ as asexual, it basically acknowledges what they have felt all along,” Queen says.

No sex drive whatsoever: Am I asexual?

You might wonder if you’re asexual if you’ve been experiencing a lower libido than usual or in comparison to others. Even among allosexual people (aka people who are not on the asexual spectrum), it’s normal to not want sex sometimes. The key difference between being asexual and having a lower libido is whether you feel this lack of interest in sex is at the core of who you are or merely a challenge you are facing. Feeling like you can’t get turned on (even though you want to) is often linked to a medical, psychological, or relational problem that people can fix, whereas asexuality is an intrinsic trait that you probably can’t change and wouldn’t necessarily want to, Shane explains.

“A person with low libido likely still feels interest or attraction, but there’s not much fuel in the engine, so to speak—no, or a very limited, sense of urge,” says Queen. “They might be really dissatisfied with this, and very much want to get their ‘oomph’ back. An asexual person, once they are comfortable with themselves as they are, probably won’t feel this way.”

How do I know if I am asexual?

A few signs you might be asexual include:

1. You don’t relate to other people’s sexuality.

Asexual people often feel alienated when the people around them talk about their desire for sex or feelings of sexual attraction, says Queen. “They really don’t get why the people around them seem so motivated by sex.”

2. Other people don’t turn you on.

Some asexual people actually do experience sexual desire and even masturbate. But most asexual people won’t get turned on in response to other people. “You may feel that someone is attractive but not be attracted to them,” Shane explains. You may not have ever had much interest in engaging in sexual activity, or you may have tried to be intimate with someone but not gotten aroused, says Queen.

3. The label resonates with you.

Ultimately, there’s no test that will tell you if you’re asexual—it all comes down to how you feel. “People who are not ace spectrum might still not always enjoy sex or not be super motivated to have it because there is ample variation within sexuality, too,” says Queen. “But when someone discovers asexuality as a potential self-identity and really feels like ‘that’s it, that explains it,’ they’re probably ace.”

“Being asexual is normal, and there is nothing wrong with being asexual,” Shane adds. “Some never feel the need to seek out trying to increase their desire for sexual intimacy. If this is you, awesome! Own it! Just be sure you are clear with any romantic partner so that expectations on all sides are clear.”

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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How do young men navigate consent in a post Me Too world?

Young men are keen to talk about consent. So say sex educators, who are helping them move the conversation beyond ‘no means no’

 

by Franki Cookney

In a small classroom tucked away up a few flights of stone steps, two dozen young men are reflecting on their chat-up lines. “Sometimes I’ve gone in and told a girl she was hot and maybe I shouldn’t have,” admits one. “I might think differently now.”

The desks have been pushed back against the wood-panelled walls and the lads are sitting around in their sportswear, discussing “rugby culture”. In half an hour they’ll be out in the chilly February night, training with Cambridge University’s under-20s team. But right now, they’re crammed into what is becoming an increasingly stuffy classroom to attend a workshop on masculinity.

The session is run by Good Lad Initiative (GLI), an organisation which delivers volunteer-led workshops in schools and universities on everything from male mental health, to LGBTQ+ identity, sex and consent.

No one in the room has actually used the word “consent”, but that’s what they’re talking about. And recognising that innocuous-seeming compliments can make women feel uncomfortable is the first step towards a more nuanced understanding of it.

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Facilitator Jolyon Martin, 27, first attended a GLI workshop himself four years ago when he was still a student. “People often do these things for social capital,” he says. “The workshop shows them that actually no one in the room is impressed by that behaviour.”

He’s noticed a move away from a “minimum standards” approach to consent – which focuses simply on what’s legal and what’s not – and towards a more holistic view. He also believes the freshers arriving at university have a better attitude than some of the older students.

“I’ve been in workshops where an older guy has said something and the 18-year-olds have called him out on it,” Martin says.

For Matt Whale, consent wasn’t something he gave much thought to as a teenager. “In my head, saying ‘no’ was in response to a violent act by a stranger, or a random man being creepy,” the 24-year-old admits.

At 18 he moved to London to study and began to hear stories that undermined this view. Friends told him about being sexually assaulted on dates. Others talked of the pressure they felt to appease their partners. “The frequency of this has completely blown my mind,” he says.

These conversations are to empower young men to want more for themselves

Like most people his age, Whale’s school sex ed consisted of basic biology and an assertion that ‘no means no’. But as the Me Too movement and the recent conviction of disgraced Hollywood producer Harvey Weinstein shows, consent is more complicated than that.

Very few young people are taught what it means when someone equivocates, changes their mind or doesn’t say anything at all. In 2018, Childlike reported a 29 per cent increase in teenagers seeking advice on peer-on-peer sexual abuse. The organisation noted that callers lacked understanding about consent and how it applied within relationships. Meanwhile, a 2019 survey of 5,649 university students by sexual health charity Brook found that 56 per cent had encountered unwelcome sexual behaviour.

But while many may appear fearful or defensive about their ignorance, few are apathetic. Contrary to the typecasting, boys and young men are keen to participate in conversations about consent.

For her recent book, Boys and Sex, journalist and author Peggy Orenstein spent two years interviewing young men in the US. She feels optimistic about their willingness to discuss consent. “I saw so much in them that was so interesting and valuable,” she said in an interview with Time magazine. “They were really ready and eager to engage in all of these issues.”

And me

Nathaniel Cole is a London-based writer, speaker and sex educator, who works with organisations such as Sexplain UK and GLI delivering workshops to children aged 8 to 18. He says the key to opening up consent conversations with young men is not by lecturing students, but by listening. “These conversations are not just to tell them what they’ve been doing wrong, but to try to empower them to want more from themselves,” he says.

This is what workshops like GLI’s aim to do. “Boys have been taught that to survive in the harsh world of dating you need to learn some tricks,” explains director of GLI, Dan Guinness. “We want to open up space that people can say these things, then discuss what that would feel like for the other person. It’s about trying to shift the perspective.”

The students attending today’s workshop seem confident and engaged, but you might expect that from Cambridge undergraduates. However, youth worker Glen Wiseman, who delivers sex education in state secondary schools, says teens are just as eager to talk.

“They’re desperate to have these conversations,” he says. “Whenever they’re asked what they’d like to cover next, they always say they want the sexual health or relationship sessions.”

Wiseman is part of Bracknell Forest local authority’s sexual health team in Berkshire. As well as facilitating discussions and offering advice, they give out free condoms, offer pregnancy tests and STI screening, and prescribe contraception.

The team runs 300 sessions a year and in 2019 saw 5,000 teenagers come through their doors. “We’ve moved on from the basic consent stuff,” Wiseman says. “We talk about accessing pleasure and communicating how you want it to be.”

Historically, relationships and sex education (RSE) in British schools has focused on the mechanics of sex and on contraception. The 1999 Teenage Pregnancy Strategy brought government funding into areas like Bracknell Forest, which had one of the highest teenage pregnancy rates in the country at the time.

Justin Hancock remembers the initiative well. He has worked with young people for more than 20 years, first as a youth and social worker and then as a dedicated sex educator. Boys’ desire to talk about consent isn’t new, he says; but society’s realisation that those conversations matter is.

“Young men have always been fascinated about consent and wanted to talk about what it is that they’re supposed to be doing,” he says. “They’ve always been very aware that, generally speaking, they will have the most power in a sexual situation, and they want to make sense of it.”

As the 10-year strategy came to an end, for a lot of places the money dried up. Further cuts to local governments caused RSE to drop down the list of priorities. Continued financial support to his area allowed Wiseman and his colleagues to adapt their clinics and workshops in line with shifting attitudes and priorities, but many schools do not have that luxury.

Young men have always been fascinated about consent

From September 2020, RSE will become statutory in all secondary schools in England. The curriculum guidelines mention consent, but how these lessons will be taught depends on the available resources. “Schools either don’t have enough money or they’re not allocating enough money towards RSE,” says Hancock. “They’re not sending their staff on training because they can’t afford to pay for cover staff. And they can’t afford to pay for external workshops.”

Talking the talk

Harvey Weinstein was sentenced in March to 23 years in prison, after being found guilty of a criminal sexual assault in the first degree and third-degree rape. During the trial his defence lawyer, Donna Rotunno, told the New York Times’ The Daily podcast that, if she were a man, she would ask women to sign consent forms before sex.

Both the high-profile trial and Rotunno’s controversial words – which outraged many – have helped to keep the topic of consent firmly in the public sphere. Generation Z boys and young men, growing up with access to a wealth of information and ideas on social media, are switched on to that.

Whale says he’s never had a conversation with a group of male friends about consent, but tells me about an Instagram account he follows which has helped his understanding. Everyone interviewed for this piece agreed the Me Too movement had made a huge impression, raising awareness of consent among teenage boys, but not always in the way you might expect.

“Me Too has also had a negative effect in that boys are starting to question it and ask if it can be true,” explains Cole.

Guinness agrees: “People get defensive. It’s that idea of, ‘You can’t do anything anymore,’ or, ‘You put your arm around someone and you go to jail’.”

The key, Cole says, is to try to meet their challenges with compassion. In his 2019 talk for TedxLondon, he explained that allowing boys to talk about their fears and frustrations was a crucial part of consent education.

According to Cole, society is finally cottoning on to how valuable education around consent can be; and where schools have brought it in, they’ve seen good results. “More talks and workshops are being booked proactively,” he says. “Rather than waiting for boys to go down a certain path, they want to have the conversation now.”

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Sex Tech Has Embraced Female Pleasure,

But Lesbians Are Still Being Left Out Of The Conversation

LGBTQ+ women bring skills, experiences, and insights that straight consumers can benefit from, … [+] says Brianna Radar, the founder of Juicebox.
By Franki Cookney

Sex tech entrepreneurs wanting to cater to women, would do well to listen to what lesbians have to say about female pleasure.

Barriers between the traditionally white, straight, male world of investment and the increasingly female-populated worlds of design and production are starting to slowly break down. Women are leading the way in audio porn, sex education, and toy design, and the sexual wellness industry is no longer a stranger to female-founders. But the vast majority of products that come to market are still based around a heterosexual understanding of sex.

Speaking as part of DIVA’s Lesbian Visibility Week schedule of virtual events, psychosexologist Dr Karen Gurney pointed out that there are some key differences when it comes to women who have sex with women. “Research shows that when you ask heterosexual people what sex should look like, there is a formulaic and narrow definition given,” she said in a video talk. “But sexual scripts for women who have sex with women provide more freedom. There’s no typical script for what lesbian sex should look like or who should do what in what order.”

The clinical psychologist and author of of Mind The Gap: The Truth about Desire and how to Future-proof Your Sex Life, Dr Gurney added that women who have sex with women are well-placed to bust myths around female bodies and sexuality. “Women’s bodies are not tricker than mens,” she said. “And women who have sex with women will probably know more about that than a lot of women out there.”

She referred to what is known as The Orgasm Gap, based on a 2016 study into differences in orgasm frequency, which showed that women’s rate of orgasm when they have sex with men is only 65%, while straight men report having an orgasm 95% of the time. However, she points out that the rate of orgasm for women who have sex with women is 85%.

“Women who have sex with women typically report a greater variety and frequency of sexual acts,” she said. “Unsurprisingly, this shows itself in more orgasms, as well as higher reported sexual satisfaction.”

Despite this, marketing in the sexual wellness sector is still largely informed by the experiences of heterosexual women.  “Historically, cis men have been the leaders in the space we now call sex tech,” says Maggie Stiggleman, the senior software developer at Lioness. “When women are thought of it’s often only straight women.”

While there are of course similarities between what straight women enjoy in bed and what gay women enjoy, lumping lesbians in with discussions of straight female sexual pleasure is unhelpful. “It is almost like lesbians get forgotten in the mix of female sexuality,” says Alice Derock, the CEO of Wet For Her. “When it comes to products, it does feel lesbian sexuality is approached in the same way as heterosexual women’s sexuality. There doesn’t seem to be an understanding of lesbian couples’ sex and how this is different. There is a market within the lesbian community and I think this sometimes forgotten. ”

Founded in 2009, Wet For Her designs and manufacturers lesbian sex toys. Derock says that while she’s always found the adult industry to be very welcoming, the startup space is still tricky to navigate as a woman, let alone as a lesbian-founded sex tech company.

“Many people assume when you say you have a lesbian business, that it must be making porn,” she says. “When you search the term ‘lesbian’ on search engines, it is always porn that pops up first, even though the terms ‘sex tech’ and ‘sexual wellness’ have become more mainstream.”

Stiggleman says that gay women also face an extra hurdle when it comes to breaking into the sex tech world, because of the ways that sexism and homophobia intersect. “Sex tech companies have a hard time being taken seriously because of the stigma already associated with sex,” she says. “Women-run ones have an even harder time because society has taught us to trust men with business, not women. So, a lesbian-run sex tech company? Investors don’t come running for something society has told them is deviant in so many ways.”

Both women say they feel completely supported and welcomed in their own workplaces, but acknowledge this isn’t always the case. Furthermore, Stiggleman feels proud to be working on a product—a smart vibrator that allows users to measure and track their orgasms—that is taking the lesbian experience into account. 

“I do a lot of the designing and coding for our mobile app, and I make sure that we do not assume the sexuality or gender of our users,” she says. “It is important to me that I’m helping to make a great sex tech product when I know that lesbians weren’t even thought of during the inception of many others.”

O.School founder Andrea Barrica recently pointed out that in today’s market there is no single identifiable customer for sex tech products. While there will always be a demand for lesbian-specific products, entrepreneurs looking to reach a broader customer base need to let go of assumptions about what kinds of sex their users are having.

Brianna Radar is the founder of Juicebox whose products include Slutbot, a virtual sexting coach. She thinks the future of sex tech will lie in taking a more gender neutral approach. “That’s the future Gen Z is looking for,” she says. “Not necessarily a product that exclusively speaks to queer women but a more gender neutral approach that’s personalized.”

She too thinks that LGBTQ+ women bring skills, experiences, and insights that straight consumers benefit from. “More than any other demographic, queer people are excellent at talking about sex,” she says. “We have to be, as minorities. The goal of our product is to take everything I’ve learned from being in fringe communities and bring the positive aspects to the mainstream.”

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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The New Sex Practice

Shibari Is Like Bondage’s Cousin, but Better

If you saw it on Netflix’s new series “Too Hot to Handle,” come right this way for all the deets.

By Taylor Andrews

You’ve probably heard a thing or two about BDSM (at the very least, you’ve watched Fifty Shades of Grey and thought about converting your S.O.’s video game room into a red room). The term stands for bondage and discipline, dominance and submission, and sadochism and machocism.

Maybe you’ve dabbled in it a bit, maybe you haven’t. But for those who are interested in spicing up their sex life in both an emotional and physical way, you might want to learn about shibari—BDSM’s sort-of, kind-of cousin.

If you’ve already binged Netflix’s new dating show Too Hot to Handle, you probably saw the contestants practice shibari in one of the challenges and thought: Wait, what the hell is happening? And while I personally loved seeing Harry getting tied up, I’m p sure the show isn’t the best place for understanding and learning what shibari is (lol)—but thankfully, this article is.

Not only can shibari be enjoyed by all genders, body types, and sexual orientations, but it’s a great means to bring healthy communication, trust, and spice into your sex life. With the help of four experts, here’s everything you need to know about the rope bondage about to change your sex life.

Okay, so what is shibari?

“Shibari is a contemporary form of rope bondage that originated in Japan. Sometimes it’s called kinbaku, but it’s most simply referred to as Japanese bondage,” says sexologist Midori, author of Seductive Art of Japanese Bondage. And yes, while shibari can be used as a means for sexual pleasure, historically, it’s been used as a form of meditation, relaxation, and trust-building practice between two partners, says sexpert Gabi Levi.

(Fun fact to impress your friends on trivia night with: The word shibari actually means “tying” and kinbaku means “tight binding,” says Jonathan Ryan, an international rope artist based in Seattle.)

How is it different than regular bondage?

Bondage, in general, can use any kind of restriction—handcuffs, tape, ties, scarves, etc.—but shibari refers exclusively to the practice of using rope, or rope-like material, to bind yourself or partner, says sex educator Rev. Rucifer. “Shibari is often not just about the sensation of restriction, but also about the intimate connection between the rigger and receiver.”

And while rope bondage is used commonly in BDSM practices anyway, “Shibari stands out for its striking visual aesthetic and emphasis on the emotional and psychological connection between the participants,” says Ryan.

How should you and your partner start if you’re interested in trying shibari?

Like engaging in any new sexual experience, communicating your boundaries and hard limits prior to beginning is a must. “Because rope bondage involves restraint and power dynamics, the person being tied may not express boundaries clearly,” says Ryan. “For that reason, be sure to have a clear discussion beforehand about what you both want out of the experience, what is on and off the table, and how you’ll communicate if there is an issue,” he continues.

It’s worth developing a safe word (like “pineapple” or “red”) that could relay to your partner the scene is going too far or there’s a boundary being crossed. Here are some questions you should ask and answer with your partner beforehand:

  • What do you look and sound like when things feel good to you?
  • How will I know if you’re having fun?
  • How will I know when I need to change course?
  • What kind of mood or feelings do we want to have while we play (rough, tender, naughty, cared for, etc.)?

Once you have boundaries established, you should get familiar with the basics. Here are some things you’ll need to know in order to get started:

  • Learn how to tie a “single-column tie” (like a Somerville Bowline) because that’s the foundation of the practice, suggests Ryan. Here’s a video tutorial.
  • Start with a floor tie rather than going straight into suspension, says Rucifer. This ensures that you practice the proper methods before jumping into in-air suspension.
  • Have safety sheers on hand… for obvious reasons.
  • Make sure you have a safe and comfortable space to play. It should be familiar to both parties.
  • The preferred material of rope is jute because it’s a strong natural fiber, but hemp and cotton will work too.

Lastly, educate yourself with videos, resources, books, and anything else you can find on the subject to ensure healthy and safe practices. This rope bottom guide is great if you want to be the person tied up. This website offers general education about shibari from trained educators. And this how-to video can properly get you started if you’re new to this world.

So why should my partner and I try shibari instead of regular bondage?

All BDSM practices require high levels of trust and communication, but for shibari, there’s sometimes a more intimate and emotionally-binding (pun intended) component to it. “The sensation of being tied up is not the sensation of being ‘trapped’ but rather lends itself to the idea of completely letting go of the physical bounds and allowing for that deep, emotional catharsis to take place,” says Levi.

“The play between the power dynamics and the release of control from the bottom to the top creates an intimate dance of trust and connection between partners. This often creates deep emotional connection, sometimes experienced as crying, euphoria or simply a feeling of a deeper connection,” says Rucifer.

Any tips, tricks, or benefits of trying shibari?

  • Blindfolds will make everything significantly more fun. “These take the pressure off the new adventurer and enhance the sensation for the person bottoming,” says Midori.
  • Keep things simple and sexy. No need to overcomplicate the ties.
  • Relish in the untying part too—don’t just focus on the aesthetics of tying your partner. “Take your time to savor that—it’s often when the skin and body is really awake to sensuality,” says Midori.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Why These Sexual Health Educators Took Their Activism Online

Education can be radical.

by Gretchen Brown

Sonalee Rashatwar believes education can be radical.

“Any time we are giving someone information about their own body, we are informing them about their rights, and that’s political,” she said.

“It destabilizes the structure when I tell someone they don’t have to opt into it.”

Rashatwar is a clinical social worker, sex therapist and grassroots organizer.

Known under the Instagram handle TheFatSexTherapist, she also works as a public speaker and sex educator.

She does this through her own lens as a person who is queer, south Asian and fat. Much of that means sharing her own personal story — experiences with dieting and sexual trauma, bifobia, fatphobia and xenophobia.

“I’m not generalizing, I’m not universalizing, and I’m allowing folks to map onto my narrative the parts of their own lived experience,” Rashatwar said.

That’s not the kind of sex education you typically get in schools. It wasn’t what Rashatwar grew up with either.

Sonalee Rashatwar is a clinical social worker, sex therapist and grassroots organizer.

Her teachers taught with the assumption that most people having sex were cisgendered, heterosexual, able-bodied, thin and white. There wasn’t information about sexuality, or gender identity or different body types.

Only eight U.S. states require that sex education programs be free from racial or gender bias, and only eight mandate that programs include information about sexual orientations.

“Sex has routinely been thought of as something that doesn’t happen pleasurably to people who look like me,” she said.

But there’s a new class of sex educators like Rashatwar — on the internet and beyond — who have flipped the script on sex education.

They teach it as a justice movement, as activism, as personal. And they include folks and identities that had previously been left out of the conversation.

Normalizing sexuality

Research suggests that many adolescents look to the internet for more information about sexuality.

Toronto-based sex educator Eva Bloom grew up on Youtube channels like “Sexplanations,” famous for their warm, casual and non-judgemental tone.

She’s always used the internet to fill in the gaps.

So when she became a sex educator herself — complete with her own YouTube channel, “What’s My Body Doing?” — it was a tone she wanted to emulate.

But Bloom is also a researcher, and just finished her Master’s degree in July, with an emphasis on sexting. She brings a distinct, research-based approach to her videos, many focusing on queer youth, like Bloom herself.

Eva Bloom is a Toronto-based sex educator.

She also talks about something that’s ignored in the classroom — pleasure.

“I talk about sex toys, I talk about kink,” she said. “And I try to really normalize and approach all of that with curiosity and excitement.”

Along with Nadine Thornhill, Bloom also hosts a Youtube series for kids, “Sex-ed School,” which has episodes on consent, gender identity, sexual orientation and masturbation.

“There’s one comment that sticks in my mind: ‘I’m really excited I can share this with my nonbinary kid,’” Bloom said.

Their goal is to make episodes that are normalizing, not dramatic. Think: the opposite of the sex educator in the film “Mean Girls.”

Thornhill and Bloom take into account that many kids already have knowledge about sex and sexuality. So the kids are the center of the show, and it’s about hearing from them, more than talking at them.

Access as justice

For some young people in the U.S., the internet is their only resource for sexual health. Many teens don’t get sex education at all.

Only 24 U.S. states require sex education, and only 20 require that it be “medically, factually or technically accurate.”

Haylin Belay grew up in Texas, a state where sex education is abstinence-only. So her career began as a teenager, as a youth intern and peer educator through GSA, a student-run organization for LGBTQ+ youth and straight allies.

A decade later, she’s still teaching sex education — often to adults who never had that education and are feeling that gap as they try to navigate their sexuality.

“They’re not new to sex, but they never had an opportunity to learn, ‘Here’s how your body experiences pleasure, here’s what you can learn if you are uncomfortable experiencing sex,’” said Belay, now based in New York.

Haylin Belay is a New York-based sex educator.

“… Just understanding how their body works, you can see the light go off in their eyes.”

She teaches with the manifesto, “all people deserve an integrated sex life and the healthy pursuit of pleasure.”

“Access to this information is a form of justice, it is a right, and it’s unsurprising that it’s a lesson that I was able to learn in high school through working with a queer organization,” she said.

Whether she’s going into a classroom and talking to young people about how to be sexually responsible adults, or teaching workshops about communication to adults in a sex shop, it’s liberation, she said — work that started with the reproductive justice movement in the 1990s.

So while she doesn’t call herself an activist directly, the work that she does runs parallel to activism. Information is power.

Space for survivors

“Something I like to bring into the classroom is how to say yes or no,” said Jimanekia Eborn, a sex educator and trauma specialist.

“…I had never had that. And I think that goes hand in hand with consent, and with learning boundaries.”

Eborn, who also goes by the moniker “Trauma Queen,” initially worked as a crisis counselor, in a mental health facility for young adults. The same life experience kept coming up: sexual assault.

Eborn, who is a sexual assault survivor, saw a need for sex education catered to other survivors, especially those from marginalized identities.

Jimanekia Eborn is a sex educator and trauma specialist.

That’s a space she had to carve out herself. Sex education is typically not catered toward survivors.

“There’s so many people that talk about the pleasure aspect, forgetting that people can’t get to that aspect because of the trauma,” she said.

Her approach is emotionally-focused, and treats recovery from trauma as a journey. As a Black, queer, polyamorous femme, Eborn wants folks like her to feel like they have someone to connect with.

It is a heavy labor. Eborn gets personal and teaches through sharing her own story. She finds that many folks have been sexually assaulted, but don’t have the words for it.

“I heal through my work. I’m constantly finding new things out about myself,” she said.

“And I think it’s nice for people to be able to see someone being able to share their story.”

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Sex during lockdown

Are we witnessing a cybersexual revolution?

Quarantine encourages the prosperity of sexual exploration. In the absence of consequence, there’s an abundance of freedom

By Ciara Gaffney

It’s with an almost nascent nostalgia that I recall the coining of the Gen Z “sexual recession”: a patronizing concern that our youngest generation would be rendered psychosexually stunted, unable or unwilling to fornicate due to over-exposure to smartphones, social media and porn.

To an extent, the stats affirmed this; between 1991 and 2017, the number of high school students having sex dropped from 54% to 40%. But in the nick of time, a worldwide pandemic arrived, and a budding sexual renaissance emerged in its wake.

Flinging the Gregorian calendar into irrelevance, humanity will be bisected into pre-Covid-19 and post-Covid-19, and although many will ruminate on how we have changed, one thing is indisputable: the rose-colored epoch before the coronavirus bitterly shamed the sending of nudes. They were perceived as gauche, even pathetic. In the lockdown era, however, thirst traps and nudes are not only making a glorious, unrepentant comeback, but are now a form of emboldened agency in Gen Z’s blossoming sexual liberation.

Sexual revolutions are often birthed by a narrowing of choice. Confined by the puritan values of 1950s America, the free love movement prevailed as a counterculture in which sexuality was celebrated instead of admonished. Its belief system was salaciously novel; the normalization of casual sex, porn and masturbation (all table stakes today) was bemoaned as a doomsday harbinger by the “boomers” of the time. They feared the death of convention: conventional love, conventional relationships, conventional sex.

Ironically, a deeper symmetry links the sexual revolutions of then and now, and that is pandemic. Free love met its abrupt end at the hands of Aids, but times, and the tools at our disposal, have changed. While one pandemic cut off a sexual revolution, another pandemic is galvanizing a new one.

The confines that spurred free love were morals, but the confines that mobilize the Gen Z sexual revolution are walls. Stratified by distance, Gen Z is similarly tasked with reinventing what sex looks like, in a quarantined world where physical sex is frequently impossible. As free love shattered the conventions of its time, Gen Z’s sexual renaissance is doing the same for organic sexual connection.

Is sending nudes foreplay? Are thirst traps posted to Instagram “close friends” lists modern courtship? Is mutual masturbation via Zoom sex? What separates the virtual from the real? Why is sexuality by video-screen considered lonely or isolating? If anything, we are seeing humanity at its most tender, reaching earnestly through the virtual void to “actualize” contactless sex. Filled with unfiltered longing posted with abandon, Gen Z’s sexual revolution is one that has been reconfigured and reborn for the digital age.

So, how exactly is this so fruitful for a groundbreaking sexual revolution? No one knows when lockdown will lift; we may be social distancing on and off for the next two years. Some commentators predict the “normal” we knew will never return. The mantra of the day is “nudes sent during the quarantine don’t count”. Yes, Gen Z’s sexual revolution is partly a response to the pure boredom of lockdown; what else are we supposed to do with our days besides masturbate excessively and send a flurry of nudes? But it’s more than ennui or physical stratification. It’s a seizing of finiteness.

Quarantine not only encourages, but forces, the prosperity of sexual exploration; of experimenting with nudes, thirst traps, camming and sexting for debauchery, mostly without IRL repercussions. Unlike regular life, which would encase sexual choices with all the judgmental trappings of “forever” – what will the other person think of me? What will this be like in person? – a pandemic provides a get-out-of-jail-free card. In the absence of consequence, there is the abundance of freedom.

If Gen Z are more sexually reticent than prior generations, a pandemic finally caters to Gen Z coming into their sexuality on their own terms – without stigma and pressure, and decidedly in favor of the virtual. In the end, it won’t matter whether the things that go down during quarantine happen “in real life” or not; whether the nudes and thirst traps don’t translate to everyday eternity. The Gen Z cybersexual revolution may be corporeally prohibited from morphing into free-love hedonism, but it is an uninhibited sexual renaissance nonetheless.

And in a pandemic that beseeches social distancing, a contactless sexual revolution was, quite simply, predestined.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Why adults with autism need sex education

by

What do autistic adults need to know about sex? Everything. Just like everyone else.

As I have discovered over the course of my career, a lack of comprehensive sex education may prevent them from forming fulfilling romantic relationships, and it may make them targets of abuse.

I am a teacher at a nonprofit organization in western Massachusetts that serves children and adults who have autism or intellectual disabilities. I often work with adults who are attending a sex education class for the first time. My students are diverse in gender — although often more men than women — diagnosis and age, ranging from 18 to 50 years.

Over the past four years, my colleagues and I have written an evidence-based sex education curriculum for these students. We have a gained a strong sense of what adults on the spectrum lack in terms of sex education — and also what they desperately want to know.

They want to know it all: from how to make a platonic friend to the right time for a marriage proposal.

Sometimes my students explode with excitement and an earnest desire to talk about topics they were long told were off limits. Other times they are filled with worry, afraid they are doing something bad if they talk about sex or even say the words ‘penis’ or ‘vagina.’

These reactions to sex education are not surprising or even unusual considering that many of my students are members of an especially underserved group: 84 percent of people with moderate-to-severe intellectual disabilities in the United States receive no sex education at all1.

This knowledge gap has negative consequences, including inappropriate or unsafe sexual behaviors and low self-esteem2. People with intellectual disabilities are also seven times as likely as typical people to experience sexual abuse. And without the right information about sex, adults with autism and intellectual disabilities can put other people at risk as well.

Teaching boundaries

Until a decade ago, many experts did not consider the idea that people with autism or intellectual disabilities wanted romantic or sexual relationships. But those interests are expressed clearly in the notes stuffed into the anonymous question box at the back of my classroom: What is intimacy? What is a crush? How do I know if someone likes me if they are nice to me? When should I ask my girlfriend to marry me? What is sex? How do I make a friend?

Think back to elementary or middle school and ask yourself: How did you know that someone was flirting with you? Could you make educated guesses about what they thought or felt? How did you know when you had a crush on someone?

These subjects can be tricky for anyone, but for people with autism or intellectual disabilities — who often have difficulties with social communication — they are especially challenging. It is for this reason that our classes are responsive to the students, changing to reflect what each student wants and needs to learn on any given day.

Our core curriculum aims to break down topics that neurotypical adults may take for granted — flirting, dating, reading body language, distinguishing between public and private places and topics, emotions, co-worker relationships, self-care and abstract concepts such as love and intimacy.

For example, instead of jumping right into going on a date, we break it down into steps. First attraction, then crush, then getting to know someone. If this goes well, they would consider asking the other person on a date. Once a student is dating, the lesson becomes more about what healthy relationships look like.

We focus on how to build trust, respect, support and communication, and on setting boundaries. Knowing how good communication works between friends can help students later in communicating with a romantic partner. Knowing what trust feels like between family members may help them spot problems in romantic relationships.

For all of us, including autistic adults, sex education needs to be about much more than the mechanics of sex. It should be about relationships with others and with ourselves; about safe sex, consent and bodily autonomy.

Adults with autism or intellectual disabilities need safe places to ask honest questions about all of these aspects — without shame. I hope the work we are doing can become the norm. Until it does, I will make sure my classroom door is always open to anyone who wants to be there.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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A new wave of online sex education introduces children to LGBTQ+ issues

How YouTubers are providing free LGBTQ+ focused sex ed to bolster school curriculum

YouTuber Lindsay Amer on the set of Queer Kid Stuff.

By

Picture this: A chalkboard with rainbows drawn on it propped up on an easel made for children. Crayons and other props are spread out on a desk. A stuffed bear sits at attention ready for class.

“Welcome to Queer Kid Stuff! I’m Lindsay, and this is my best friend Teddy,” the host says.

This is how YouTuber Lindsay Amer begins each of their sex education videos for children.

Just after finishing their study of theatre for young audiences, Amer, who goes by they/them pronouns, fell in love with children’s storytelling. After coming out as non-binary and reflecting on their own experiences, they wanted to alleviate the lack of LGBTQ+ representation in the media for kids.

“I wanted figure out how to marry these two things that (were) coming out in my life the same time, this love for storytelling in theatre, performance and media and also my queer identity,” they said in an interview with the Toronto Observer.

Amer’s series fills a niche by educating grade school students on same-sex issues, which has been largely missing from Ontario’s public school curriculum since the provincial government made cuts in 2018. Much LGBTQ+ representation disappeared, including references to gender identity, sexuality and more.

Many LGBTQ+ students have to resort to outside sources for their sex education. A study by MediaSmarts in 2014 reported that 23 per cent of teens sought out pornography online, an unreliable source for education on this topic.

However, certain content creators are working to change the narrative for LGBTQ+ youth who are disadvantaged by the education system by making reliable information available to them in relatable terms, just as Amers is doing with Queer Kids Stuff.

Their web series “aims to eliminate stigma by properly educating future generations through entertaining video content,” according to the website.

Similar to the way Ontario’s sex education curriculum has been a topic of controversy, so has Amer’s content. The conservative censorship rules that platforms like YouTube require users to follow have affected Amer’s content, by means of demonetization and even blacklisting, a term used when a video will no longer appear in the platform’s “suggested” pages.

“I’m actually part of a lawsuit suing Google and YouTube over discrimination of the LGBTQ+ community,” said Amer. They could not comment further on the topic.

Amer’s stance is that representing diverse people means including diverse people in the conversation about representation. They believe sex education is more than just a curriculum because it shapes the lives of LGBTQ+ and non-LGBTQ+ youth alike. They want to see the schools’ sex education curriculum reflect that.

“It’s important that when you’re writing these curricula that you are consulting queer people, that you are consulting women, that you are consulting intersex folks, who are very underrepresented in sex education,” said Amer.

“It’s so important to include those marginalized voices.”

There’s a divide between those who supported the inclusivity of the 2015 sex education curriculum versus those who commend Doug Ford for the changes made during the summer of 2018 to reduce LGBTQ+ representation.

“If you look at what is provided in terms of elementary grade level discussion of LGBTQ+ issues, it’s practically non-existent. The curriculum is really too late in terms of when it starts to address LGBTQ+ issues,” said Alex McKay executive director of the Sex Information and Education Council of Canada (SEICCAN), a not-for-profit charitable organization.

McKay said that in order for a sex education curriculum to be successful, it must be relevant to all kinds of students.

In a report titled “A call to action: LGBTQ Youth need Inclusive Sex Education,” the Human Rights Campaign specifies on their website that “well-designed and well-implemented sex education can reduce risk behavior and support positive sexual health outcomes among teens.”

Egale Canada, the country’s leading organization for LGBTQ+ people and issues, released a study called Every Class in Every School that looked further into what LGBTQ+ students face in secondary schools. These were some of their findings:

  • 55 per cent of sexual minority students have reported being verbally harassed in school.
  • One in five LGBTQ+ students reported being physically harassed in school.

“It’s very important that, from the very beginning, when we’re providing developmentally appropriate information to children and youth, that we are being inclusive. Kids in elementary school, for example, are aware of diversity of sexual orientation,” said McKay.

“The fact that sexual health education in schools often just ignores that sends a very negative message not only to LGBTQ+ children and youth, but it’s also sending a message to the whole school community, and it’s not being inclusive.”

Limited sex education is not only an issue for Ontarians, but an issue widely seen across the world. That’s where online educators where Amers and Nadine Thornill come in.

Thornhill, a Toronto-based expert in adolescent sexuality, is host of her own sex education web series. #SaveSexEd is a collection of videos tackling sex-related topics in an educational manner so that anyone – parents, caregivers, teachers, educators, community leaders or even youth themselves – can have positive conversations about sex and sexuality.

“If I had $1 for every time somebody said to me, ‘This is something that I did not know and never learned in school,’ I would be doing very well,” Thornhill said.

She started her journey to becoming a sex educator when she realized how insufficient her own sex education had been.

Topics like diversity of gender, of sex, or of sexual orientation are not beyond a child’s comprehension, she said.

“Those are things that young children are certainly capable of, being aware of and of knowing, it’s not going to destroy them” Thornhill said.

“By saying, ‘Okay, we have to wait until [age] 13 to have any kind of public discussion about this’ implies that there is something inherently sort of dangerous and child inappropriate about gender diversity.”

Thornhill is willing to create the content that she does if it serves the greater good, but her primary intent is to give adults the resources they need. She wants adults to have is to become responsible and trustworthy figures who can facilitate young people’s education.

“I think a lot of us don’t have a framework for how you would have this conversation in a child-appropriate way,” she said.

Content creators amongst the likes of Amer and Thornhill share one common belief that the public education system does not: LGBTQ+ youth deserve the same relevant sex education as their heterosexual, cisgender counterparts do.

“Even if children don’t have the language to express to us or even explain to themselves who they are, there is an instinctive understanding that almost all of us have,” Thornhill said.

“And so, when what they’re being taught is incongruent with what they are experiencing internally, or even what they’re seeing of the world, there’s going to be a lot more confusion that can be much more deeply entrenched.”

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Your Guide to Fertility and Getting Pregnant

Here’s a primer on how to conceive, whatever your sexual orientation, gender identity or relationship status.

By Brooke Borel

The early scenes of “Private Life,” a 2018 Netflix film about a New York City couple who are trying to conceive, present an unsettling scenario for anyone pondering their biological clock: A 40-something woman wakes up after an infertility procedure to find that things can’t progress as planned. Her doctors successfully extracted her eggs — but they also realized that her partner can’t produce any sperm. There might be a fix, but there’s a catch: It’ll cost another $10,000. Oh, and the doctors need the check today.

The scene, of course, is fictional and is meant to draw laughs, but it’s also a good reminder of how unpredictable and costly infertility treatments can be. If you’re thinking about having kids, what’s the best way to achieve that goal without unexpected and costly medical intervention?

For most heterosexual couples, the first step is to try to conceive the traditional way, said Dr. Sherman Silber, M.D., director of the Infertility Center at St. Luke’s Hospital in St. Louis, Mo.: “I recommend, frankly, if they are young and fertile to make sure they have enough sex.”

But intercourse isn’t always a sure-fire route to pregnancy; many couples struggle with infertility because of age, illness or reasons that aren’t yet known to science, said the two fertility doctors and one researcher I spoke to for this guide. Around one in 15 married American couples are infertile, according to the most recent published data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. And there are special considerations for people who are transgender, single or in same-sex relationships.

Then there’s the high cost, which “Private Life” got right: According to the Society for Assisted Reproductive Technology, as well as a fertility benefits expert I interviewed for this guide, treatments may run to thousands or tens of thousands of dollars and aren’t always covered by insurance.

For many, the first step is to time sex with ovulation.

First, some Sex Ed 101: In order to become pregnant, a sperm has to meet an egg at the right time. The ovaries typically release one egg once a month during ovulation. The egg travels through the fallopian tubes, where the sperm has to fertilize it. Next, the fertilized egg has to make its way to the uterus, develop a little more, and then implant in the uterine wall.

For heterosexual couples, it’s important to time unprotected sex with ovulation. (Women who have irregular periods and people who are single, transgender or in same-sex relationships are likely to skip this step and head straight to a fertility specialist.)

“We know that women ovulate about 12 to 14 days before their next menses,” said Dr. Esther Eisenberg, M.D., a medical officer in the Fertility and Infertility Branch at the Eunice Kennedy Shriver National Institute of Child Health and Human Development. “If you have regular periods, you can kind of figure it out.”

One option for tracking ovulation is to use a regular calendar and count back from the first day of your next projected period, although both free and paid smartphone apps will do the math for you. (If you’re using an app, read the fine print to make sure you’re comfortable with the data collection policies — some period trackers have come under scrutiny for sharing user health data with third parties.)

Another option, according to Dr. Eisenberg, is to use over-the-counter ovulation kits, which are a bit like at-home pregnancy tests. You pee on a stick, which measures luteinizing hormone. A surge in this hormone indicates ovulation, although it doesn’t prove it has happened (a woman can have the hormone surge but then fail to ovulate).

Doctors’ recommendations for how much sex you should have around ovulation vary, but it’s a good bet to try every other day or so in the days leading up to ovulation. Sperm can survive for several days in the female reproductive tract, but once you’ve ovulated, your egg has about a 12- to 24-hour window for fertilization. So, for the best chances of conception, have enough sex in the time leading up to that brief window.

Experts also recommend following basic health practices — such as sleeping on a regular schedule; avoiding alcohol and cigarettes; maintaining a healthy weight (being underweight or overweight can contribute to infertility) and following a balanced diet — to improve your odds of getting pregnant.

If you’re having trouble calculating your ovulation because of an irregular period, or if you’re not in a heterosexual partnership, it’s a good idea to seek the services of a fertility specialist at the beginning of your quest to conceive.

If you’re transgender, the American Society for Reproductive Medicine recommends that you discuss with a doctor how certain medical treatments — such as hormone injections or gender reassignment surgeries — may affect your fertility, as well as options for preserving eggs or sperm prior to transitioning.

For heterosexual couples, see a fertility specialist if you haven’t conceived after a year of regular, unprotected sex (if the woman in the partnership is under 35) or if you haven’t conceived after six months (if the woman in the partnership is 35 or older).

As with any medical treatment, your health insurance (if you have it) will largely determine which fertility doctors you can see without having to pay fully out of pocket. But it’s still a good idea to make sure you feel comfortable with whichever clinics are available to you, said Dr. Silber. Consider asking: What are the live-birth success rates? What sort of testing do they do? When doctors answer, Dr. Silber said, “see if they look you in the eye.”

Understand the basic fertility tests.

If you’re a woman in a heterosexual partnership and are struggling to conceive, you may assume that there is something wrong with you. But in many cases, the male partner is responsible as well, so both partners should get fertility testing from the start.

The type of testing you receive will depend on your sex and situation, said Dr. Janet Choi, M.D., medical director of CCRM New York, part of a nationwide network of fertility clinics.

For most women, Dr. Choi said, basic testing starts with blood work to check for certain infections and hormone levels — the latter of which is part of an ovarian reserve test to estimate how many eggs you have left. There may also be a blood test to check thyroid levels, since certain thyroid disorders can affect the menstrual cycle or increase the chances of miscarriage.

Next comes a transvaginal ultrasound, which is another part of an ovarian reserve test. A practitioner will insert a wand-like instrument into the vagina, allowing her to visualize the reproductive organs and to check the ovaries for cysts or other abnormalities, as well as to get an idea of how many eggs are left.

Your doctor may also order an X-ray called a hysterosalpingogram (H.S.G.), which helps show whether anything in the reproductive tract is blocking sperm from reaching the egg. A practitioner will thread a tube through the cervix and inject an iodine dye into it, which fills the uterus and flows through the fallopian tubes; the X-ray picks up the dye to show whether the uterus is shaped normally and whether the fallopian tubes are blocked.

Comparatively speaking, most men have it easy when it comes to basic fertility testing: A doctor might order blood work to scan for certain infections or to check if hormone levels are normal. Men will also probably be asked to produce a sperm sample so that a practitioner can assess how much sperm is in the semen, how well they can move and how they are shaped. If the sperm fall short in any category, they may have a harder time reaching the egg — and the man may have to go through additional testing.

Know which treatments are available.

As with fertility testing, the type of infertility treatment you receive will depend on your unique health and medical history. If you’re a woman with a blocked fallopian tube, for instance, you may need surgery to remove the blockage or to repair damage before trying other fertility treatments. If you’re a man who isn’t producing sperm, it’s possible you have a blockage as well, and your doctor might recommend a procedure that retrieves viable sperm directly from the testes, or a surgery that removes the blockage.

If you’re a woman under 35, treatment will likely start conservatively, said Dr. Choi. For example, your doctor may prescribe oral drugs such as clomid or letrozole, which increase the odds of pregnancy by boosting the number of eggs you release during ovulation. This approach is also common for women with certain hormonal conditions such as polycystic ovary syndrome, in which ovulation doesn’t occur regularly.

Your doctor might instruct you to combine oral drugs with sex at home; or to time taking them with ovulation or with an in-office procedure called an intrauterine insemination (IUI), in which a clinician prepares a sperm sample then inserts it directly into the uterus to increase the odds of conception.

Women who are over 35 may also start conservatively with oral drugs or IUI, but if those measures don’t work after a couple of tries, or if it’s clear from your medical history that they aren’t likely to work, Dr. Choi typically recommends moving more quickly to more aggressive treatments, such as in vitro fertilization (I.V.F.). Here, the idea is to fertilize the egg outside of the body and then put the resulting embryo back in. (To read more about I.V.F., see our guide on it here.)

Fertility treatments will also vary for people who are single, in same-sex relationships or transgender. If you’re a woman who’s single or in a same-sex relationship, for example, you may try IUI or I.V.F. with sperm from a donor, depending on your age and your fertility status. Women in same-sex partnerships will also need to decide which partner should carry the baby, which will depend on preference, age and health. (It is also possible for one partner to harvest eggs and the other to carry the embryo, a process sometimes called reciprocal I.V.F., shared maternity or co-maternity.)

Men who are single or in same-sex partnerships will need a surrogate to carry the embryo, whether she uses IUI, I.V.F. or some other means of conception. Men in these circumstances may also need an egg donor.

If you’re transgender, your fertility treatment will depend on your individual history regarding sex reassignment surgeries, hormone treatments and so on. For example, if you’ve already had sex reassignment surgery, you may need donor sperm or eggs, unless you froze your own beforehand. If you only had hormone treatments, you may be able to reverse this process temporarily through new hormone treatments (under the guidance of a physician), in order to produce viable sperm or eggs.

Most insurance companies will cover fertility testing. But every expert I spoke to for this guide agreed that it’s a good idea to check with your provider before you start fertility treatment. There are no federal laws that require insurance to cover infertility diagnosis and treatment, and only 16 states require insurance companies to either cover or offer to cover it. “Under traditional coverage, if you have it, or if you don’t have coverage, you’re going to start acting a bit like an accountant and start adding up the dollars to figure out if you can afford it,” said David Schlanger, chief executive officer of Progyny, a fertility benefits management company.

Even in states that require coverage, details can vary. Some insurance plans cap the amount of money you can spend on fertility treatments. Say, for example, your plan allows up to $25,000, which sounds like a lot. But that could go quickly. According to the National Conference of State Legislatures, the average cost of one I.V.F. cycle is between $12,000 and $17,000 (without medication), and many people will need multiple cycles. Other insurance companies may require you to try IUI before I.V.F., even if your medical history suggests the latter is a better choice, which chips away at your allotted coverage. Still other plans don’t cover I.V.F. at all.

Even if your insurance covers a procedure, it may not cover other key factors. Prescriptions, for example, may not be included, and some fertility drugs can cost thousands of dollars. People who need sperm or eggs should check to see if donor tissues are covered. And laws regarding surrogates are “different all over the country,” Schlanger said. In New York, for instance, surrogacy isn’t even legal, although there have been proposals to lift the ban.

If your insurance doesn’t include fertility treatments, RESOLVE, an infertility advocacy nonprofit, recommends asking your employer if it’s possible to expand your plan.

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Sexual assault is a consequence of how society is organized

By Jennifer Hirsch and Shamus Khan

The Department of Education is about to release new rules about how schools must deal with sexual harassment, stalking, and sexual assault. There’s a lot that’s disastrous about this interpretation of Title IX, which is supposed to promote equal access to education for women.

But what’s largely missing from both the rules and the flood of public criticism they are generating is a discussion about prevention. This is typical of the national discourse about sexual assault on campus and beyond, and of the broader conversations in this era of #MeToo. The singular focus on adjudication reflects two assumptions.

The first is that victims frequently fabricate claims of sexual assault; all the evidence suggests that false accusations are rare. The second is that sexual assaults happen because of “bad” or “sociopathic” people. The only way to deal with them is through punishment harsh enough to strike sufficient fear into those who commit or want to commit assaults.

But what if the most sexual assaults were “normal”? Not in the sense that it’s acceptable, but in the sense that it’s often something that everyday people do—  a predictable, if awful, a consequence of how society is organized. In doing the research for our book, Sexual Citizens, that’s exactly what we found. And there’s an important consequence to this finding: we’re not going to punish our way out of these normal assaults.

Because those who commit normal assaults often don’t think they’re committing assaults, they believe they are having sex. When a student we interviewed for our research with undergraduates at Columbia and Barnard told us “I put on a tie. So I knew I was going to have sex”, he meant that, for him, agreeing to go to a sorority formal with a woman who invited him came with an obligation to have sex her. He described doing while she was blackout drunk; he never reflected any awareness that he’d raped her.

Acknowledging that sexual assault is often socially produced, rather than solely the result of individual moral failings, expands our vision of what to do about sexual assault: rather than responding to sociopaths’ evil acts, the goal also becomes to prevent those harms from ever being committed.

We’ve been successful using this approach to address other social problems. Think about drunk driving. Since 1982, there’s been a 50 percent reduction in drunk driving fatalities. Among those under 21, fatalities have reduced by 80 percent. This tremendous success reflects what public health calls a ‘multi-level’ response, with efforts that include but go far beyond trying to change the behavior of the individual causing the harm.

Drunk drivers are held responsible, but so are the bar and restaurant owners who over-serve them. Road design has smoothed dangerous curves and urban planners have added speed bumps to slow traffic, complemented by safer cars, drivers’ education, points on licenses for repeated infractions, and increased enforcement during periods of greatest risk. The power of moral persuasion has made it socially unacceptable to drive drunk or to allow others to do so and has normalized the idea of a designated driver.

We need a prevention approach for a sexual assault that parallels the success in addressing “drunk driving”. We still must address the harm done by those who commit assaults. But punishment would not be enough, both because it doesn’t necessarily address harm and because it’s relatively ineffective at prevention. A new approach must be built upon the realization that far more progress will be made through things like education, transforming the physical environment, and drawing upon our moral institutions and commitments. The steps are many, but they are also fairly clear.

The adults at home need to be partners in sexual assault prevention — which means raising children who have the skills to have sex with other people without assaulting them. This is consistent with a central task of parenting: helping children develop the social and emotional skills to manage their bodies so that they can go about their lives without hurting others. When they want something, we say, “don’t grab — use your words.” We teach them not to hit and to apologize if they step on someone else’s foot. We make sure that they know how to drive before we let them borrow the car. Yet our silences around sex have meant these lessons haven’t been extended and applied to young people’s intimate lives, with disastrous consequences.

Parents may object that talking about sex is awkward, or that it’s the children themselves who shut down the conversations. But many parents are frequently the source of much discomfort.

When they choose words like “hoo-hoo” or “pee-pee” instead of vulva and penis, they are communicating that some body parts are unspeakably shameful. Children learn very early that sex is not something they can talk about, especially with their families.

The solution isn’t only to start naming body parts. Nor is it to make the discussion technical, talking with young people about fallopian tubes — that’s like teaching driving by explaining how spark plugs work. 

What young people need is a moral education: to hear from us that we want them to be fully formed sexual citizens, with the right to say yes and to say no to sex, and that they must always respect that those they’re with have the same rights. Adults have a choice: to talk with young people about how sex and intimacy will be an essential part of their lives — how they connect a person they love—or to let their values be shaped by a cacophony of messages from pornography, advertising, and mass media.

Families can’t do this work alone. Children fortunate enough to have the adults in their life help them develop a sense of sexual citizenship will nonetheless go out into a world in which they will be surrounded by others who have grown up in sexual silence and shame. That’s why comprehensive sex education is so essential.

Research suggests that sex ed can reduce the likelihood of perpetrating sexual violence. An analysis of survey data from the Columbia and Barnard campuses showed that women college students who had had sex education that taught them to refuse sex they didn’t want were half as likely to be raped in college. That’s as strong a protective effect as the flu vaccine. At the population level, high immunization rates create “herd immunity.” Protecting everyone. Making sure that all American school-children receive comprehensive, age-appropriate, medically-accurate sex education will prevent a vast number of campus sexual assaults.

And yet the current American landscape for sex education is starkly unequal; young people who grow up poor or in rural areas are less likely to receive comprehensive, medically-accurate sex education. And as is true nationally, the LGBTQ students we talked with told us that the sex-ed they’d received in high school only addressed heterosexual experiences. They didn’t feel just underserved; they feel erased. That erasure is part of their well-documented greater vulnerability to being assaulted on campus.

Beyond parents and schools, faith communities have mainly figured in discussions about sexual violence as sites of perpetration. Those same institutions can and must do more than just prevent harm — they can join as allies in prevention. We have seen through the first-hand experience how powerful it can be for young people to engage in conversations about relationships and intimacy grounded in religious values with trusted adults other than their parents.

If the fundamental goal of religion is to provide a framework for people to figure out what it means to live a good life, then sex and intimacy must be part of that discovery. Prevention is everyone’s job. The character-development element of youth sporting can reinforce lessons of fundamental respect and decency. Musical education can reinforce lessons of listening to one another. Sexual education isn’t just about sex. It’s about connecting the experiences of what it means to be a good person to one’s intimate life.

Unquestionably, campus adjudication processes should be fair to all involved and not cause more harm. But research conducted on our campus showed that only a minute proportion of all assaults are formally reported; that’s typical of many institutions. Getting adjudication right will barely move the needle on reducing sexual assault. We can’t spend most of our energy reacting to assaults that have already happened.

There are small clear steps we can take to make assaults less likely to happen in the first place. We need to talk about sex. We need to ground that discussion in moral visions of how we must treat one another. And we need to provide comprehensive age-appropriate sexuality education for young people. The path to prevention is clear. We simply all need to walk along with it together.

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How to Reconnect With Your Partner After Having Kids

Don’t wait for the most convenient time to rebuild intimacy. You’ll be waiting a long time.

By Christina Caron

First things first: This is not another article that simply tells you to “go on a date night.”

Nothing against date nights. The best ones can remind you why you fell in love with your spouse or partner in the first place.

Or they can involve staring at each other in a sleep-deprived haze over an expensive meal while intermittently glancing at your phone for updates from the babysitter.

If date nights aren’t working for you, or if you’ve been struggling to maintain intimacy for months — or even years — after having children, here are some different ways to stay close to your spouse or partner, despite the stresses and frustrations of parenthood.

Try not to become complacent.

Just as there was never a perfect time to have children, there will rarely be a perfect time to rekindle a connection with your partner.

It’s easy to push your romantic relationship to the side: “Let’s get through sleep training first.” Or: “As soon as I get back into shape.” Or: “Maybe when I’m less tired.”

Then winter arrives. “Everyone’s sick again? Let’s wait until we get better.”

But if you keep waiting, experts say, regaining intimacy can become increasingly difficult.

“It seems to have been the norm for so many couples to say to themselves, ‘Now that the kids are here, we’ll focus on the kids. Our day will come,’” said Michele Weiner-Davis, a marriage and family therapist whose TEDx talk about sex-starved marriages has been viewed more than 5 million times. “But here’s the bad news from someone who’s been on the front lines with couples for decades. Unless you treat your relationship, your marriage, like it’s a living thing — which requires nurturing on a regular basis — you won’t have a marriage after the kids leave home.”

Couples may start to lead parallel but separate lives — and discover they have nothing in common.

“They’re looking at a stranger, and they ask themselves, ‘Is this the way I want to spend the last few years of my life?’” Ms. Weiner-Davis said. “And for too many couples the answer is no.”

But all of that is preventable, she added.

“It’s absolutely essential not to be complacent about what I call a ho-hum sex life. Touching is a very primal way of connecting and bonding,” Ms. Weiner-Davis said. “If those needs to connect physically are ignored over a period of time, or are downgraded so that it’s not satisfying, I can assure people there will be problems in the relationship moving forward.”

Slow down and start over.

If you had a vaginal birth, you and your partner may expect to begin having sex as early as six weeks after the baby is born, if you have been physically cleared to do so.

For some couples, that signals “the clock is now ticking,” said Emily Nagoski, author of “Come As You Are: The Surprising New Science That Will Transform Your Sex Life.”

But a lot of women simply won’t be ready that early. And that’s O.K.

“After the postpartum checkup, I didn’t feel like myself, I didn’t feel physically ready to have sex,” said Emily Stroia, 33, who lives in Los Angeles. “In terms of libido, I didn’t really have one.”

Ms. Stroia, the mother of a 10-month-old, eventually starting having sex with her partner once a month — but before she became pregnant, they had sex nearly every week, she said.

“I still kind of forget that I’m in a relationship,” said Ms. Stroia, who is struggling with sleep deprivation. “I have to remind myself that I have a partner.”

After any potential medical problems are ruled out, Dr. Nagoski advises couples to “start over” with one another by establishing a sexual connection in much in the same way they might have done when they were first getting to know each other: making out, holding each other and gradually moving in the direction of bare skin.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Isolation could improve how we think about and navigate sex and relationships

By

The coronavirus pandemic has already profoundly changed many of our lives. And it is certain that the virus will change some things forever. Some industries will fail, others will prosper. We will learn new ways of working and new ways of understanding the impact of capitalism. We will reconsider who the most vulnerable people are in our global society.

Other things may change too – things not so well documented. I study sex – and I’m sure that this crisis will have some significant effects in terms of the way society sees it. This is because requirements to practice social distancing and isolation have meant that the way we think about sex has been turned upside down.

A third of the global population is on lockdown and we must stay apart from each other not for ambiguous or contested moral reasons, but to save lives. As such, many ways in which we navigate, understand and talk about sex and relationships is likely to change as a result.

1. Masturbation, sex tech and porn

Some sex toy companies are reporting that their sales have surged since the requirement to isolate, with some companies offering isolation giveaways. Access to pornography is on the rise too, with companies capitalising on the opportunity isolation brings to encourage us to watch more porn.

Before the crisis, these industries would hardly have been thought of as essential. Conversation around porn, sex toys and masturbation is conventionally seen as taboo, but an inadvertent consequence of the pandemic is that masturbation is not only being more freely discussed, but might be considered an important part of our wellbeing – even life saving.

So the conversation has begun to shift in interesting ways since isolation was imposed, but also by virtue of the willingness by normally prudish governments and officials to talk explicitly and in a detailed way about sex. The pandemic has seen the NYC Department of Health and Mental Hygiene stating that “you are your safest sex partner” and warning against kissing and poorly cleaned sex toys.

2. New understandings

Social distancing means that we have been forced apart, yet sexual desire and our desire to touch, and be touched, continues. Cohabiting couples might find themselves divided due to advice to be three steps apart even within the same home if they become ill. And single people have inevitably been shut off from opportunities to connect sexually, which has caused a surge in (virtual) online dating.

Expert in sex and public health Carlos Rodríguez-Díaz has suggested that it is necessary to consider and recognise forms of virtual sexual contact as ways of expressing erotic desire, such as sexting, video calls, and reading erotica. This move away from physical touch as the centre of sex shifts conventional understandings of sex as only physical penetration.

It will be necessary to experiment with ways of not only connecting sexually, but also of appreciating these forms of sex as being meaningful.

3. Non-monogamous relationships

Under these unique conditions, we will be pushed to reconsider enduring questions around fidelity and non-monogamous relationships. Consider a situation where a partner within a long-term cohabiting relationship has an additional partner whom they do not live with, perhaps it is through an affair, or perhaps the relationship is polyamorous. The impact of isolation may provoke the possibility of break ups of some affairs, through a new understanding of risk in light of the pandemic.

Covert affairs and polyamorous relationships are already more emotionally complex than monogamous relationships, given the inherent challenge they bring to accepted and conventional ways of loving, as well as their unusual hierarchical structures. Physical presence is important, since it can often be the only way of communicating (particularly in covert affairs), and maintaining intimacy and equality among partners.

Isolation and this global crisis will trigger new conversations based on people’s lived experiences of the challenges and possibilities of such relationships.

4. Home as a dangerous space

While people must remain at home to preserve themselves and others, many governments have recognised that some may find their wellbeing jeopardised if they are isolating while in an abusive relationship. The risks to people in these situations can be physical, but they are also psychological and emotional. Shelters and hotels are being made available but access to these options will not be easy for all, since leaving the home at all will be difficult when under the control of an abusive partner.

Questions about the ethics of remaining in the space of such a relationship are now different. Outsiders might suggest that the person should now stay in the relationship, rather than criticise them for not leaving. COVID-19 should open up discussions, and bring focus back onto what causes harm in these relationships, rather than blaming the actions of the survivor.

5. Thinking about consent

To understand more about consent, it is important to understand more about the impact of touch. COVID-19 has made everyone more conscious of how their body might affect others, while also recognising our capacity for kindness towards one another through mutual aid groups compiled of volunteers, who in turn also need to be conscious of how they deliver aid with minimal touch.

COVID-19 forces the debate to focus on the impact of our actions on other people and those connected with our partners – parents, family members, friends. Isolation makes the consequences of breaches of consent visible and clear. The world therefore is presented with a unique opportunity to understand the impact of touch to have unintended consequences and chain reactions.

We are also forced into awareness of our capacity to be kind and put others first: a cornerstone of navigating good sex.

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