The WiseGuyz program, run by non-profit agency The Centre for Sexuality (formerly known as the Calgary Centre for Sexual Health), is a school-based healthy relationship and sexual health program that targets boys in Grade 9 (ages 13 – 15) in several schools in the Calgary area. WiseGuyz consists of four core modules — healthy relationships, sexual health, gender and media and human rights — facilitated over 15 weekly, 90-minute sessions. Issues of sexuality, gender and relationships are explored.
Building and maintaining a safe space is critical to the program’s ability to engage young men in challenging conversations. Focus groups with the boys identify how the program structure allowed them to feel safe and explore topics regarding sexuality and masculinity without the fear of being judged. Creating a sense of safety is important, as it supports an environment whereby the boys can begin to openly discuss masculine stereotypes, pressures and expectations.
The program is facilitated by men in their mid-20s to early 30s, whom boys in the program see as mentors, role models and friends. Having these kinds of facilitators is important, as young men from numerous studies say typical sex education is delivered by staff with limited credibility. By deliberately choosing young, socially relevant male facilitators, the centre has been able to engage program participants in conversations about sexuality, masculinity and relationships.
Supporting boys to critically reflect about gender is an important part of the program. According to boys, once they began to examine masculine norms and stereotypes, they began to understand how they were influenced by them. Young men speak about gaining greater awareness of the ways in which language is used to police behaviour. For example, one shared that “you don’t realize the destruction that it does” to be called derogatory names that challenge or question your masculinity.
Boys spoke about the way the program supported them to think about masculinity differently. For example, although boys may enter the program aware of the differences between themselves and other group members sometimes with negative judgment, during the program they appear to increase their respect for these differences. This can lead to a greater acceptance of a wider range of qualities and behaviours from both themselves and others.
My preliminary research suggests that WiseGuyz is a promising program in reducing boys’ endorsement of traditional masculinity ideologies that contribute to dating and sexual violence.
Providing boys with skills to address, examine and challenge beliefs around traditional masculinity ideologies allows young men to resist and re-define the highly gendered expectations they face regarding their identities and behaviours.
By empowering boys with the confidence and skills to resist societal constructions of masculinity, WiseGuyz is supporting the young men they work with to attain emotionally healthy adulthood.
And I don’t mean before the sex starts or after it ends (although both are great things as well). I mean during the actual sex.
If you’re indeed a talker in bed, you’re probably a lot happier with your sex life than the rest of us zipped-lipped fornicators. A new study published in the Journal of Sex & Marital Therapy just found that people who communicate in bed tend to be more satisfied both sexually and in their relationships.
To clarify, you can certainly talk with your body: Nonverbal cues, including moving someone’s hand where you want it to go, moaning when they do something you like, or shaking your head when something makes you uncomfortable, all count as forms of communication. Both verbal and nonverbal communication were associated with more communication satisfaction and thus more sexual satisfaction.
“Our findings suggest that use of verbal or nonverbal communication, specifically, is less significant to one’s sexual satisfaction when individuals are satisfied with their sexual communication,” the researchers wrote in the paper on their findings. “In other words, trying to ascribe to a particular communication style may be less important than simply being satisfied within a relationship with a particular communication style.”
To reach these conclusions, researchers surveyed about 400 people about how often they communicated during sex, how they communicated (verbally and nonverbally), and how and how often their partner communicated. The partners also reported how happy they were with their sex lives, their relationship, and the sexual communication within their relationship. More communication of all kinds during sex (whether verbal or nonverbal and whether it was you talking or your partner talking) was associated with people being more satisfied with the levels of sexual communication in the relationship. And being satisfied with the communication was associated with being satisfied with the sex.
In other words, the more people communicate in bed, the better the sex is.
That might seem obvious, but think about it: How often do you speak actual words during? How often do you directly convey to your partner what you do and don’t want while you’re actually in the middle of the romp?
The researchers point to past studies that have suggested people can be really uncomfortable about ruining the mood or getting shut down if they speak up during a sexual encounter:
Some people believe that talking about sex will cause embarrassment or ruin a sexual mood. And some people may be concerned or fear their partner’s reaction to verbally communicating about sex. This fear, in turn, can inhibit open communication. In response to these fears, people may prefer more ambiguous communication in order ‘to test partner responses and save face if the partner does not respond positively.’ Indeed, couples report intentionally engaging in communication tactics to help ‘save face’ and avoid discomfort or embarrassment associated with direct verbal sexual communication. This may be particularly true during a sexual encounter. Given that individuals may be especially vulnerable when engaging in partnered sexual activity, the consequences of a negative partner reaction may have more impact than a negative reaction in a less vulnerable situation.
It’s so important for us to move past these fears of negative reactions. The results of this study prove that everyone tends to be more pleased with sex when the communication is better, both with oneself talking and with one’s partner talking. And there’s nothing wrong with a good ol’ nonverbal cue if that better suits you and helps keep you both in a sexual mood: “Nonverbal communication during sex is often perceived to be less awkward or less threatening than verbal communication,” they write. “It may be less awkward or threatening for a woman to guide her partner’s hand to her genitals rather than directing her partner verbally: ‘Please touch my genitals.'”
Not that a direct ask is ever bad. Having a person you find attractive ask you to touch their anything can be a big turn-on if phrased the right way and spoken seductively. It can give both of you a little bit of confidence.
Clinical sexologist and sex therapist Cyndi Darnell tells mbg that communicating during sex is just a good way to tell your partner what you’re into: “The silence means it’s hard to read what their partner is experiencing, and while it needn’t be a porno soundtrack, a little aural feedback is a great thing!”
Conveying our deepest desires, likes and dislikes, to our most intimate partner is essential. Here’s how…
“Yes,” I say, surprisingly firmly, to the man I have never met before, whose name I do not even know, who is massaging my back and shoulders. “Yes. Yes, please.”
I am lying on a mat on the floor of a conference room in a London hotel and around me three people – complete strangers – are rubbing my back. “Zero,” I say suddenly, which is the code word for stop. It’s not because I want the massage to end – in truth, it feels rather soothing – but because we have been encouraged to try saying “no” as well as “yes”. That, after all, is the point of the exercise. According to the leader of this workshop, intimacy and relationships expert Jan Day, we find “no” extremely difficult to say, and our lives would be better if we could bring ourselves to say it more readily. Instantly, the people surrounding me draw back, and I revel in the afterglow of both having articulated the difficult message I wanted to convey, and having it acted upon.
Around 40 of us have signed up to Day’s workshop, more or less equal numbers of men and women, spanning a wide age range from 20-something to 50-something. The topics under discussion are boundaries and consent, issues, Day tells us, that cause a huge amount of confusion and unhappiness in many people’s lives. While the #MeToo movement has focused attention on these in a societal setting, she believes we are as all-at-sea as ever over how to convey our deepest desires, likes and dislikes, to our most intimate partner.
Day’s own life story, with two unhappy marriages behind her, and the therapeutic practice she did to overcome the fallout, led her to this work. A qualified coach who has been a relationships specialist for 20 years, she says the crux of the matter is that most of us are either unable or unwilling, or both, to say “no”, even when “no” is what we mean.
There are several reasons for this, the first being empathy. “You don’t want to feel the feelings your ‘no’ will provoke in the other person,” she explains. “And then at other times, you’re simply embarrassed. Or another reason is that, as a child, you learned to associate the word ‘no’, uttered by the adults around you, with ‘bad’. And what your subconscious tells you is that if you’re responsible for something ‘bad’ in your partner’s life, you’ll no longer be loved.”
All of this is entirely logical. But failing to say what we mean, particularly in our sex life, has repercussions. “If we can’t say what we want to say, we learn instead to numb our feelings, to zone out, both physically and emotionally.” Some people – and this describes as many men as women – simply shut themselves down sexually. “They blank it out, say they’re not interested any longer, feign headaches, push it away completely. Or they go with whatever is suggested, but they zone themselves out from it – go through the motions, but fail to connect it properly with who they are inside.”
The fallout is more than just the obvious, says Day. Of course on the one hand it means a failure to live out a fulfilling sex life, but just as damaging is the effect on an individual’s power to enjoy and shape the wider world. “Our sexual energy isn’t only about sex,” she says. “In fact it’s not even mostly about sex. Your sexual energy is your life energy: it’s the centre from which your interest in life, your joie de vivre, arises. It’s the kernel of your aliveness.” It can also, she acknowledges, be very scary to give yourself intimately to someone you love. Sharing your deepest self with the person you spend most time with leaves you vulnerable in all sorts of ways. No wonder, says Day, that there are people who feel more comfortable with the idea of keeping sex and love, carnal pleasure and heart, entirely separate. “You’d be surprised by how many people are with a partner they very much love, but don’t have sex with, while their sex life is part of an affair.” It’s a way of keeping things “safer”. But they miss out on all the ways a 360-degree relationship can enhance a life.
A starting-point in Day’s workshop is the idea that we need to be grounded in our sexuality, knowing what we like and don’t like, and being able to do what we need to do to achieve it. And that means, in the first instance, being properly connected not with another person, but with ourselves. As with the business of being able to say no, this goes back to our earliest learned behaviour – because the vast majority of us were taught as children to denigrate our sexual urges as shameful, or dirty, or disgusting. What her day-long workshop does is give participants the chance to begin to rethink how they incorporate their sexuality into themselves. “Usually sexuality is denied or played down in our lives, and so we don’t get a chance to work out how it influences us holistically, and how to work it alongside the other parts of our being,” says Day. Throughout the event, she stresses that no-one is at any point required to do anything they don’t want to do. Indeed, speaking up about what you don’t want is, if anything, more important than saying what you do, for reasons already described.
The exercises – one involves holding a partner’s hand and, with their permission, massaging it gently – are simple and straightforward, but some of the 40 or so faces around me are tear-stained when we sit back in a circle to listen to more input from Day. In tracing our fingers across another person’s hand, in caring about whether it feels good to them or not – and then vice versa, with our own hand being massaged – we are allowing ourselves to be vulnerable; and for some, that brings sensations of pain. One woman is sobbing after being touched. She says she hasn’t had a relationship for many years, hasn’t felt another person’s loving touch for so long. For Day, what we’re experiencing is about allowing feelings to arise and not being afraid of them. This isn’t about hiding pain but feeling it and working through it as the key to the better self awareness she hopes we will gain from the workshop.
The point to which Day keeps returning is the need to work out what we want ourselves – and then to learn to convey it to another person. Too much of what happens in intimate relationships, she believes, is guesswork. We haven’t worked out what we want, we’re too worried or embarrassed about conveying it clearly, so all we can do is attempt to mind-read our partner’s deepest desires. “And the trouble with that,” she says, “is that you can’t mind-read on all this stuff, so you make assumptions that are wrong.”
Day’s assistant at the workshop is her husband, Frieder. They have put all her wisdom into play in their own relationship, she tells me. “He really likes it that I say no as well as yes. The thing is that if you know someone is able to say no, you can completely trust them when they say yes. And that means your partner can in turn enjoy himself or herself more, and can be more playful during sex, because they’re not taking responsibility for how you’re feeling, now they know you’re going to be clear about it.”
Day’s workshops are held at a variety of venues, with some a day long, others across a weekend or even a week. Participants come alone or with a partner – on my course, there were three couples. Either way is fine, says Day. Where people attend solo and have a partner, she hopes the energy and ideas of the workshop can help recalibrate a couple’s sex life. Certainly the exercises aren’t remotely complicated.
The one we keep repeating throughout the day is about signalling when we don’t like something and when we do, and knowing the other person won’t be offended by our “no” or “zero”.
“It’s incredibly simple,” says Day. “Anyone can do it, in the privacy of their own space. You just need to talk about it beforehand and agree on what you’re going to signal and how you’ll do it. And it really can revolutionise not only your sex life, but your wider life as well.”
Erectile dysfunction (ED) has been getting the millennial marketing treatment recently. On London transport earlier this year, you may have seen a ‘quirky’ ad campaign for a viagra delivery service called Eddie, which urged men not to be shy about the condition, proclaiming “ED isn’t an ‘old man problem'”. Men’s health company Numan, which manufactures treatments for ED, uses a minimal, earthy-toned colour palette for its packaging – clearly targeted towards the same younger audience. In the US, the hipster-friendly viagra company Hims (with its cacti motif) has even been credited with making erectile dysfunction ‘trendy'</a
It’s refreshing that brands are trying to de-stigmatise an issue that can emasculate men – and it makes sense, given that there’s cause to believe younger men are increasingly finding it difficult to get or maintain an erection for long enough to have sex. A study of 2,000 British men last year found that half of men in their 30s and 35% of men in their 20s are “struggling in the bedroom”, with stress, tiredness, anxiety and boozing too heavily cited as the predominant causes. The ubiquity of porn is also named as a possible cause.
The Instagram-ready billboards might do something to tackle the stigma surrounding ED for some men but certainly not all – a recent study of 1,000 men and 1,000 women by Numan found that less than half (42%) of men who have experienced ED took steps to fix it. Nor is the taboo lifting among the sexual partners of those with the condition. The fallout and shame arising from ED remains far worse for men themselves, of course – nearly 50% of men with ED told Numan’s survey they felt self-conscious during sex, while nearly 20% avoided it altogether, and 79% were experiencing anxiety of some kind – but its impact on their romantic partners and relationships shouldn’t be overlooked.
How do affected couples communicate about an issue that is so sensitive? How does it make them feel about themselves? And how does it affect their own sexual satisfaction and experience of sex? Sex and relationship experts advise “talking to him and letting him know that he has nothing to feel ashamed of” and suggesting that he seek professional help if the problem persists. But it can be difficult squaring your partner’s wellbeing, self-esteem and masculine identity with your own needs, as two women in heterosexual relationships told Refinery29
Jo, 36, a strategist and self-described serial monogamist, was in a relationship with a man with erectile dysfunction which was “cut short due to ED and how it manifested in the relationship,” she says.
“The situation was twofold; he’d had health issues in the past brought on by a partying lifestyle that resulted in a mild heart issue, and he previously had an addiction to pornography, which he felt had warped his mind and changed how his body responded in intimate situations. I didn’t know any of this, of course, but I sensed a disconnect when we were intimate. Like his mind went somewhere else. I found out a few months in that he regularly used Viagra to deal with it. He hadn’t spoken to anyone else before and god knows where he was getting the medication.
During the next few months, sex changed… I acted more like a sex therapist than a girlfriend. It was probably the first time he’d discussed it with anyone. I wished there was someone else, like a professional, who he could speak to, to take the pressure off me. Sex became less about my enjoyment and more about ‘fixing’ him. I did a lot of research but didn’t really know what to do in this situation and if I was being a ‘good’ girlfriend or not. Was I making it worse or better? I was kind and patient for sure but pushed my needs and feelings aside as a result.
The ED took over everything. If we wanted guaranteed sex then it had to be planned, so it was less spontaneous and felt fake. I think he possibly took too strong a dose or was on the wrong medication too, because I felt he changed a bit as a person sexually. As I say, it felt like a therapy session, which brought us closer together in a way but also got boring very quickly for me. I sound like a bitch even now saying it, but that’s the truth.
The experience gave me a good insight into how hard it can be to be a man in 2019 and opened my eyes to how modern lifestyles, porn and mental health can really affect the physiology of a human; we all need to get to know and understand our bodies better. It taught me to be more patient and how to have tough conversations. Moreover, it taught me to care about my own feelings more, when to set boundaries and when to cut out.”
Melissa (not her real name), 29, who works in recruitment, saw a man for several months from September last year, and it soon became clear that his religious beliefs were hampering his ability to have sex.
“I was really excited about him as we clicked on so many levels. Before we’d slept together, he told me he was quite religious and that he’d probably want to explore it more when he got older and settled down. I’m not religious, but I didn’t think too much of it. On another occasion, he started talking about certain foreplay things he liked to do and asked if I was game – I was. Back at mine we started getting into it and he focused his attention on me during foreplay. He didn’t let me pay much attention to him. He had an erection at the time. However, when it came to having intercourse he lost it, proceeded to hug me and said that what we had just done was so amazing, etc. The foreplay was good and I’d been hoping we’d go the whole way since the dirty talk at dinner. I brushed it off.
We met up again and the same thing happened – he couldn’t get hard to have sex. We tried and it got a little hard but he lost it immediately. I could see that he was frustrated, but I could also sense he knew what was going on. I told him he could feel comfortable speaking to me about it, as we’d already had several deep conversations. Eventually, he told me his ex-girlfriend of five years was very religious and only wanted to have sex once she was married. He’d had a few sexual partners before her and was willing to wait. In the last year of his relationship they began to experiment with foreplay and when they eventually had sex, at his insistence, it didn’t feel right and they ended up splitting up. Essentially, he could only get hard off his kinky foreplay fantasy and had gone so long without intercourse that when it came to it, he had a mental and physical block.
We got on well but the lack of sex and his unwillingness to address it meant we didn’t see much of each other after that. I was willing to try and help out, be understanding and patient but he kept me at a distance and ultimately didn’t want to talk to me about it. Since he’d been so forward about what he wanted in bed I felt deflated that he couldn’t go the whole way. It made me think I was the problem. I now realise this wasn’t the case, but if your partner has ED and doesn’t admit it, doesn’t talk about it and distances themselves, it doesn’t make you feel good. Men rarely talk about it and women are often embarrassed to talk about it with their friends to avoid embarrassing their partner, so seek your own advice and if your partner is hesitant, broach the subject yourself. Give them resources or solutions and let them know it’s a common problem. Help them to find out what really might be causing it.”
Sexuality and sexual orientation is one topic not often brought up in the average American household.
It’s a taboo, hush-hush subject left somewhere on the fringe of socially acceptable.
“I think in general, America has a really weird relationship with sex,” said nicci port, project director and LGBTQ+ initiative for the office of Diversity and Inclusion.
Things such as television ads are sexualized but as a society people are uncomfortable talking about sexuality, port said.
Twenty-two states require sex education in their schools, and only 12 states require discussion of sexual orientation within those sex education classes.
Three of those states require teachers to impart only negative information on sexual orientation to students.
“I think at the basis we think we have to be a puritanical society and care about purity by viewing sex as procreation instead of realizing we are sexual beings,” port said.
According to reachout.com, sexuality is about who a person is attracted to sexually and romantically, but “is more complicated than just being gay or straight.”
The Kinsey Scale, developed in 1948 by sexologists Alfred Kinsey, Wardell Pomeroy and Clyde Martin, organizes sexuality into a gradient scale which demonstrates that sexuality is a spectrum and not everyone fits into one specific definition.
The Kinsey team interviewed thousands of people about their sexual histories.
Their research showed that sexual behavior, thoughts and feelings toward the same or opposite sex were not always consistent across time.
Instead of assigning people to three categories of heterosexual, bisex0ual and homosexual the team used a seven-point scale. It ranges from zero to six with an additional category of “X.”
A person’s sexuality can manifest in many ways and forms that only the identifier truly understands, but there are quite a few umbrella terms that encompass the currently defined sexual orientations.
The most common and widely recognizable sexual orientation within the United States is heterosexuality, with an estimated over 90 percent of the population not identifying as lesbian, gay or bisexual, according to Gallup.
Heterosexuality is when “a person has emotional, physical, spiritual and/or sexual attractions to persons of a different sex than themselves. More commonly referred to as “straight” in everyday language,” according to the Center for LGBTQIA+ Student Success website.
On the opposite end of the Kinsey scale is homosexuality, with an estimated 4.5 percent of the United States population identifying as lesbian, bisexual or gay.
Homosexuality is when “a person has emotional, physical, spiritual and/or sexual attraction to persons of the same sex,” according to the Center for LGBTQIA+ Student Success website.
The term is often considered outdated and potentially derogatory when referring to LGBQ+ people or communities.
Within the homosexual umbrella lies at least two sexual orientations, these being gay and lesbian. Gay is used to refer to men who have an attraction to other men, but not all men who engage in sexual behavior with other men identify as gay.
Lesbian is used to refer to women who have an attraction to other women, but not all women who engage in sexual behavior with other women identify as lesbian.
Under the homosexual umbrella “about 4 to 6 percent of males have ever had same-sex contact.”
For females, the percentage who have ever had same-sex contact ranges from about 4 percent to 12 percent,” according to the Kinsey Institute.
In between homosexuality and heterosexuality on the Kinsey Scale are at least two sexual orientations. The most heard of and talked about of the two is bisexuality.
Bisexuality is when “a person is emotionally, physically, spiritually and/or sexually attracted to both men and women,” according to the Center for LGBTQIA+ Student Success website.
The other orientation is pansexuality.
Pansexuality is “a term used to describe a person who can be emotionally, physically, spiritually and/or sexually attracted to people of various genders, gender expressions and sexes, including those outside the gender binary,” according to the Center for LGBTQIA+ Student Success website.
Though both pansexuality and bisexuality are similar in that identifiers have attractions to those of multiple sexes, they are inherently different — but are often confused and assumed to be the same sexual orientation.
The “X” on the Kinsey Scale refers to either those who have not yet had sexual contact with another person or those who identify as asexual.
“In its broadest sense, asexuality is the lack of sexual attraction and the lack of interest in and desire for sex,” according to the Center for LGBTQIA+ Student Success website. “However, some asexual people might experience emotional attraction or other non-sexual attractions.”
Asexuality is one of the less-heard of sexual orientations and the smallest group within the LGBTQIA+ community, with the CDC finding in 2014 about one percent of the population identified as asexual.
Homosexuality, bisexuality, pansexuality and asexuality all fall under the umbrella term of queer, which essentially is anyone who identifies as not heterosexual in the broadest sense.
Queer is “an umbrella term which embraces a matrix of sexual desires, identities and expressions of the not-exclusively-heterosexual and/or monogamous variety,” according to the Center for LGBTQIA+ Student Success website.
Sexual assault is typically something you think will never happen to you—until it does and and you find yourself in desperate need of help and support.
According to the Rape, Abuse, & Incest National Network (RAINN), 1 out of every 6 women has been the victim of an attempted or completed rape in her lifetime, so it’s a scary (but common) reality—and one that can leave you feeling anxious, fearful, sad, angry, or a combination of those things.
“It’s a natural human state to be overwhelmed with this kind of traumatic event,” says Jessica Klein, a licensed clinical social worker and adjunct faculty member at the University of Southern California. “The thinking part of your brain really can’t process everything that’s happened.”
Thankfully, there’s help for sexual assault victims, whether your assault happened thirty minutes or three years ago. If you’ve been assaulted and need to know what your next steps are, here’s a timeline of all the various ways to get help—from the first minutes after your assault to the days, months, and years that follow.
1. Evaluate your surroundings and get medical treatment ASAP.
In the immediate aftermath of your assault, it’s time to think about your health and safety. Evaluate your surroundings and get yourself to a safe place if you aren’t already in one. Then consider calling 911 or going to a hospital, even if you aren’t visibly injured or are unsure whether you ultimately want to involve the police.
“After your safety is secured, medical treatment is often an immediate need,” says Kathryn Stamoulis, PhD, a licensed mental health counselor in New York City. “Even if you are reluctant to undergo a medical examination for the purposes of reporting your assault, trained staff can provide you with emergency contraception, treatment for sexually transmitted infections, and referrals to a counselor.”
2. Try not to change your clothes or use the bathroom.
Something important to keep in mind: You can decline or discontinue your forensic examination (a.k.a. “rape kit”) at any point if you become uncomfortable, says Stamoulis.
According to RAINN, you don’t need to commit upfront to reporting the crime in order to have an exam performed, but it’s a good idea to get one, anyway: Should you choose to report your assault later on, you’ll have gone through the necessary steps to collect evidence.
RAINN also advises against doing anything that could damage that evidence in the time between your assault and your exam, like bathing, changing your clothes, or using the bathroom. (FYI, even if you’ve done these things, you can still get an exam.)
3. Don’t hesitate to reach out to someone you know and trust for immediate support.
It may be helpful for you to stay with a local friend or family member in the hours after the assault, says Stamoulis. Being around someone familiar can be extremely comforting and reassuring.
If you are a student, she says, many schools and colleges have counseling centers or victim advocates on campus to help support you through the aftermath.
4. Try to make yourself feel as safe as possible.
In the short-term, you will be dealing with the traumatic effects of your assault. This might include feeling anxious or depressed, having nightmares, having difficulty concentrating, or struggling in your relationships, says Stamoulis.
During this time, it’s important to prioritize your physical and emotional needs. That might look like taking time off from work, finding babysitters or extra childcare assistance if you have children, or even replacing the locks on your doors.
All of these needs are normal, and you should feel free to ask for whatever helps you. Try not to judge yourself—there’s no way to predict how your body and mind will respond to the trauma.
5. See a trained counselor who specializes in sexual assault.
Well-meaning friends and family members may not (or cannot) offer you the best advice for your particular situation, so Stamoulis strongly recommends seeking professional counseling.
A trained counselor, she says, will know the best practices for helping assault victims cope and can educate you on what to expect during your recovery. (If you’re having trouble locating a counselor in your area, RAINN’s crisis hotline can refer you to someone.)
“Sexual assault is different from a lot of other traumas because our society tends to blame the victim, [which] is another way of being traumatized,” Stamoulis explains. “A therapist who specializes in treating sexual assault survivors understands the unique needs of someone who experiences a trauma that is often shrouded in shame and secrecy.”
6. If you didn’t report your assault or receive a forensic exam, take those into consideration again.
If you didn’t receive a forensic exam immediately after your assault, there may still be time; in some states, Klein says, evidence can be collected and preserved up to 96 hours later. And even if you’re beyond the forensic window, reporting your assault is absolutely not a “now or never” proposition.
“Law enforcement is getting better at understanding why people don’t report immediately in the aftermath and not having forensic evidence is not a dealbreaker,” she says. “There are other corroborating factors they look into, and you never know who filed a report against that perpetrator before you—or who might file one after you, since many perpetrators are repeat offenders.”
7. Know the lifelong risks associated with sexual assault.
Being a victim of sexual assault puts you at a higher risk for depression, anxiety, PTSD, eating disorders, and substance abuse problems, per Mental Health America.
So if you’re feeling really down, having trouble with your daily functioning, or relying on unhealthy habits to cope with overwhelming emotions, seek help from a qualified therapist ASAP.
8. Remind yourself that healing isn’t always linear.
The road to recovery in the wake of sexual assault is not always a straight line. Stamoulis notes that some people find themselves doing well emotionally for a long time, then suddenly struggling with intensely negative feelings again.
If this happens to you, she recommends being kind to yourself (making sure you are eating and sleeping well, monitoring your stress levels), as well as eliminating any identifiable triggers, like watching the news.
9. Know that you may need to confront your trauma again.
The healing process is a complicated one that unfolds over time, but you will likely need to address your trauma head-on at some point. That may be done through professional counseling or through reflective mediums like art or journaling. Stamoulis calls this process “post-traumatic growth” and says it’s a key component of long-term healing.
“When you’re working through the trauma, you’re not trying to get rid of the memories completely, but trying to gain a different relationship to the memories so you can think about them in different [less triggering] ways,” she says.
10. Realize that everyone’s healing process looks different.
In the long-term, it’s important to be aware of your unique needs during recovery and to choose activities that help you move forward in a healthy way.
“Some people find that they want to make meaning from the experience by volunteering with other victims or fighting for social justice, while others want to put it completely behind them,” says Stamoulis. “There is no right or wrong response.”
If you’ve been a victim of sexual assault, you can call 800-656-HOPEto receive confidential crisis support from a trained specialist with the National Sexual Assault Hotline. It’s free and available 24/7. You can also chat online with a support specialist.
Here’s how to tell if sex therapy is right for you.
How many people have you known who confided in you that they went to a sex therapist or were considering sex therapy for intimacy problems in their marriage?
For many people, talking about sex with a partner is not always easy, so reaching out to a sex therapist might actually be a more comfortable way to address any concerns you have about your sex life.
So what is sex therapy, and how can working with a sex therapist help you create a stronger, healthier sexual relationship with your partner or spouse?
Sex therapy is defined as “a strategy for the improvement of sexual function and treatment of sexual dysfunction.” Sex therapy addresses a wide range of clinically described sexual behaviors and difficulties that create sadness, fear, frustration, and disappointment for people who want to explore and enjoy their sexuality.
Sex therapists provide focused and personal attention, typically in a private office setting, where couples — or individuals — can talk about their sexual relationship and any differences or problems they’re experiencing relating to physical intimacy.
Individuals often contact a sex therapist with very specific concerns. In contrast, many couples often look first for a couples therapist and then see if sex therapy is offered, too. Sometimes it’s very difficult for couples to decide which direction they want, especially if one or both of them aren’t so sure how sex therapy will go.
Sex therapists typically begin with an assessment of each person’s sexual history. Then, they’ll explore other experiences within the current relationship or address ongoing sexual problems like premature ejaculation or inhibited sexual desire.
Most people don’t know what they don’t know about sex, which is why working with a sex therapist can help.
Some people aren’t sure if love is a necessary and important aspect of sex, but the truth is love and sex do go together.
Yes, people have sex with people they don’t know well. But generally, people prefer having good to great to sex with someone when they feel affection toward their sexual partner(s). Given the chemistry of romantic love, a sexual bond came become much greater than a friendship and go beyond affection.
Positive sex education, knowledge, and awareness are essential for men and for women (and for children, too).
Sexual counseling is also very important, though it differs from sex therapy. This type of counseling is often offered by a wide range of medical people (nurses, doctors, midwives), as well as in sexual health clinics and educational classes, where very important information and misinformation can be talked about individually or in groups.
Sex therapists provide intensive attention to difficulties and fears that individuals or couples experience and have knowledge and expertise in exploring their sexual desire and negotiating their sexual relationship.
Sexual problems and mismatches are common in committed and marriage relationships.
Even when couples have been together for a long time, you could be surprised to know that having a passionate and loving sex life can also last a lifetime.
Yet sadly, sex is often surrounded by secrecy and insecurity. Talking openly with your partner about your sexual thoughts and feelings, as well as sharing your fantasies, is an important key to a pleasurable relationship.
The root of sexual ignorance, shame, and embarrassment can be deep. Although there is so much information available, marriage, couple, and family therapy were interconnected with sex therapy in the early years with a focus on marital difficulties around sex. Premarital counseling, which also included attention to sex, began in the early decades of the twentieth century.
The evolution of sex therapy has been very important in helping individuals and couples with often complicated sexual experiences. These can include sexual traumas, sexual abuse, and a wide range of diagnoses from sexual desire, arousal, orgasm, and pain disorders, and many more sexual problems, like healing from infidelity.
Sex therapy can and will help you.
Sex is no longer a taboo subject, and it can last a lifetime for committed, loving couples. Both sexuality and sensuality can be an amazing personal experience.
Suffering from guilt, shame, misunderstandings, trauma, misinformation, and silence can be overcome with the help of a certified sex therapist. One of the most important aspects of having a healthy sexual relationship is the benefit of emotional and physical well-being.
Passion begins with your own sexual desire and fantasies, and so many people struggle and ignore the unique and amazing potential of what can happen when love, affection, desire, and sex expression combine. Your sexuality is a gift and if you’re worried that you’re not enjoying yours, don’t be afraid to reach out to a sex therapist for help.
Most people learned about the basics of sex education growing up — or at least heard the slogan “wrap it before you tap it.” Yet it seems college students have forgotten this slogan and are not practicing safe sex.
Women, when having male partners, are often expected to be on a method of birth control, and while many women rely on birth control — some 60% — that is not the only concern for both partners when having sex.
For some sexual partners, the idea of safe sex may be directly correlated with being on the pill, and many forget pregnancy isn’t the only risk of unsafe sex. But sexually transmitted infections are a risk for all parties engaging in sexual activities, and college-aged people are at higher risk of contracting these types of diseases.
Since this age group is at the most risk, it is important for them to practice all forms of safe sex, which means consistently using condoms and other forms of contraceptives.
Many people choose not use condoms in long-term relationships because they know their partner’s sexual history and have been previously tested. But in college, sexual experiences are more than often outside of relationships and sexual history is not discussed. Statistics from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention about STIs found that, “Young women (ages 15-24) account for nearly half (45 percent) of reported cases and face the most severe consequences of an undiagnosed infection.”
A study from researchers Elizabeth M. Farrington, David C. Bell and Aron E. DiBacco looked into the reasons why people reject condoms and stated that, “Many reported objections to condom use seem to be related to anticipated reductions in pleasure and enjoyment, often through ‘ruining the moment’ or ‘inhibiting spur of the moment sex.’”
Taking a few seconds to put on a condom is not something that will ruin the experience, especially if it means protecting yourself from STIs, considering some infections are life-threatening.
Protection does not always mean using a condom, and even condoms must be used properly to prevent risk of tear. Planned Parenthood stated, “It’s also harder to use condoms correctly and remember other safer sex basics when you’re drunk or high.”
In same sex relationships, protection is just as important. Research found that, “Among women, a gay identity was associated with decreased risk while among men, a gay identity among behaviorally bisexual males was associated with increased STI risk.”
Condoms might be the first thing that comes to mind when thinking about protection, but there are many other options for birth control that can help prevent contracting a STI, and it’s important to talk with your partner about which method or methods with which you’re both comfortable.
Dr. Candace Black, a lecturer at the School of Social and Behavioral Sciences, just finished conducting research on the practices of safe sex and said that often the lack of condom usage comes from a lack of sexual education.
“I don’t have data on this so it is anecdotal, young women are really targeted for sex education when it does occur and so it attributes to ideas like (they are more exposed to ideas like) STIs, condom use and birth control. I think collectively we spend a lot of time teaching young girls about sex education and prevention, which I think is wonderful,” Black said. “I have not observed a parallel effort for young men. And so in my observation, again this is just kind of anecdotal, the young men don’t have the same kind of sex education as far as risk factors, as far as pregnancy as far as all of that. There is a gender disparity as far as access to sex education.”
According to the American Addiction Center, when someone’s inhibitions are lowered due to alcohol, many are “at risk for an unwanted and unplanned pregnancy or for contracting a sexually transmitted (STD) or infectious disease.”
“You have to look beyond the current circumstances of people and consider access to sexual education which is seriously lacking in a lot of places, and in particular Arizona. The sex education isn’t great,” Black said. “There are various nonprofits that try and fill that service gap and provide adolescents and kids with sex education, but there is still a significant need.”
Not properly educating young people on the risk factors surrounding unsafe sex leads to these problems in the future when students are given more freedom in college. This often results in students not prioritizing thorough sexual health, but it should be on the minds of all sexually active students.
In the long run, it’s easier — and safer — to have sex with a condom than to deal with all the repercussions that can come from not using one.
The internet has changed how kids learn about sex, but sex ed in the classroom still sucks. In Sex Ed 2.0, Mashable explores the state of sex ed and imagines a future where digital innovations are used to teach consent, sex positivity, respect, and responsibility.
Sex ed in the U.S. is often a hot mess. Teens regularly get medically inaccurate information, learn solely about abstinence, and hear only bad things about LGBTQ identity and sexuality.
Young people with disabilities can feel particularly invisible in classroom sex ed lessons, since the content typically doesn’t reflect their experience. Meanwhile, some teens may assume their peers with disabilities have no interest in sex or sexuality at all.
This new video from AMAZE, a YouTube sex ed series for adolescents and teens, takes on and then shatters the stereotypes and misconceptions about disability and sexuality.
The clip features a young character who uses a wheelchair and the pronouns they/them. They share with an inquisitive friend that yes, they are interested in dating, and yes, their “parts work just fine.” (It’s important to note that while the direct questions help start an educational dialogue in the video, young people shouldn’t similarly quiz their friends with disabilities.)
The candid conversation covers gender identity, sexual orientation, healthy relationships, and the specific challenges people with disabilities can face while trying to date. In just three short minutes, the video scores wins for representation, inclusion, and education.
In one of my favorite scenes in the Netflix series Sex Education, Aimee goes to Otis for advice because her new boyfriend has what she thinks is a weird kink. “Steve says his ‘thing’ is girls properly enjoying sex,” she says with an eye-roll. After Otis asks her a few questions, Aimee shares that she’s never had an orgasm and she’s never masturbated. Otis, as Aimee puts it, “prescribes a wank.” Cue a montage of Aimee masturbating in various positions all around her bedroom. The next time she’s with her boyfriend, she has very specific instructions: “I want you to rub my clit with your left thumb. Start slow, but get faster, but not too fast. When I start to shake, blow on my ear and get ready for fireworks.”
Let me stress that part again: if you’ve never (or rarely) orgasmed and you want to, you should start with masturbation. Because you don’t have to orgasm. Sex or masturbation can still be plenty of fun without an orgasm. Part of the Mayo Clinic’s definition of anorgasmia (the medical term for consistent difficulty reaching orgasm) is that the lack of orgasm distresses you or interferes with your relationship. If you’re not orgasming and you’re totally fine with that, then don’t feel like you need to have an orgasm. While pressure to orgasm, body image, and shame around sex can contribute to anorgasmia, there are a variety of other possible causes, including medications such as SSRIs, illnesses such as Parkinson’s disease, and gynecological surgeries.
Okay: if you do want to learn how to orgasm, the first step is to stop focusing on trying to have an orgasm. Though this might seem contradictory at first, taking away the pressure to perform can be a big help. “Commit to practicing some mindful masturbation on your own, and just figuring it out,” Emily Morse, Doctor of Human Sexuality and host of the Sirius XM radio show and podcast Sex With Emily, tells Refinery29. Instead of trying to have an orgasm immediately, commit to getting to know your body over a period of several months.
“Common reasons why people, particularly women, have difficulty orgasming is because we’re in our head, and we’re focused on orgasming,” Dr. Morse says. “If you go in with the goal of ‘I’m just going to try to see where I can find pleasure in my body,’ knowing that you, on your own, can figure it out can be empowering. You’re much likely to get there once you just say, ‘I’m exploring.’”
While you’re doing this exploring, commit to experimentation. “Make sure you’re warmed up, you’re turned on, you’re exploring other erogenous zones, and you’re really taking the time,” Dr. Morse says. Spend some time in front of a full-body mirror while masturbating; try different breathing patterns; try using sex toys; try different positions. Touch different parts of your body, and use different types of touch. If you have a clitoris, Sex With Emily has an episode called “The Clit Notes” that covers all the different ways you can touch your clit. Dr. Morse also suggests spending some time “seducing yourself” — clean your room, light some candles, put on some music, try out different fantasies</a
“Our brain is the largest sex organ, no matter who you are,” Dr. Morse explains. “My advice would be to do the exploring, cultivate a really rich fantasy life, and figure out what your erotic themes are. What really turns you on? What are your fantasies? What do you need to feel the most pleasure? And then just experiment with that. Let go of what everyone else is doing, and do your own work to find out how you’re going to get there.”
After you’re comfortable orgasming on your own, then you can take what you’ve learned and tell your partner what you like. “It’s called self-love for a reason, right?” Dr. Morse asks. “No one else is responsible for our orgasms and our pleasure but us. And then once we learn that, we can communicate that to anyone else who’s interested in coming along for the ride.
In fact, studies and averages are “a comparison trap,” says Megan Fleming, PhD, a sex and relationships counselor who practices in New York. “It’s really more about what works in your relationship.”
Sex therapists generally consider someone with a penis to be experiencing premature ejaculation if they are ejaculating after less than two minutes of penetrative sex, Dr. Fleming says. The Mayo Clinic’s definition of premature ejaculation adds an important caveat: “Premature ejaculation occurs when a man ejaculates sooner during sexual intercourse than he or his partner would like.” If both partners are happy with how long sex is lasting, then it’s not something to be concerned about — there’s a lot more to sex than penetration, after all. “How much does [the partner] enjoy penetration?” Dr. Fleming asks. “Maybe they already had an orgasm first because of foreplay, oral, or manual stimulation.”
But if both partners — no matter their gender or genitalia — want sex to last longer, they can try some different tactics to make that happen. Dr. Fleming divides these strategies into two groups: the physical and the psychological. On the physical side, there are masturbation exercises. In particular, people with penises can “learn to stay in the safe zone before the point of inevitability, which is ejaculation,” says Dr. Fleming. If sex isn’t lasting long because one person is experiencing pain or discomfort, see a professional who can see if there’s an underlying health condition. If you’d like sex to end more quickly, masturbation exercises also apply. And whether you’d like sex to last longer or end more quickly, you should be using lube— it helps reduce friction, makes sex feel more comfortable, and feels great. Try experimenting with different amounts lube, or trying different kinds of lube, to see how that feels.
There’s also the psychological side of sex. Along with trying out positions and types of sex, “that might mean including fantasy, or talking dirty,” Dr. Fleming says. It can also mean reframing what you think of as sex to include sexual activities outside of penetration — and if there’s a cis man in the couple, it can mean rethinking the idea that sex ends when he has an orgasm.
Dr. Fleming also suggests trying new sexual activities more than once — even if the first time you try a new position doesn’t have an effect on how soon your orgasm happens, that might be different the third time you try it. “When you try something new, you want to try, try again,” she says. She refers to the safe word system of red, yellow, and green, where red means “stop,” green means “go,” and yellow means “slow down” or “give me a moment.” “If it’s awful, ‘red light,’ then obviously don’t” try it again, she says. “But if it’s more like a yellow, then hang out and see if it turns green. Sometimes we have to do things enough to really be present and relax, and relaxation is the foundation of arousal.”
In her influential 1959 Atlantic article, “Sex and the College Girl,” Nora Johnson predicted that young, educated women pursuing expansive new opportunities would likely end up disappointed. She spent the rest of her life finding out what could happen instead.
High-school students graduate in 1960. Nora Johnson’s articles, novels, and memoirs followed women as they matured from infatuated teenagers to aging lovers.
Every few years, new concerns bloom about the changing ways young people are approaching relationships, from the stigmatized early years of online dating in the 1990s and 2000s to the panic over campus hookup culture in the early 2010s to the dawning concern that rather than having too much sex, Millennials aren’t having enough. Many young people are now experiencing a sex recession, my colleague Kate Julian wrote for the cover of this magazine in December.
But long before Tinder or Match.com were founded, and even before most universities went coed, the seeds of these ideas were planted in another Atlantic article: Nora Johnson’s influential “Sex and the College Girl.” Written in 1959, the article captured a snapshot of college romance on the lip of the sexual revolution and the second-wave feminist movement: Young women were pulling back from romantic commitment and domestic life to explore their options; young men were left bewildered and resentful as their relationships shifted in turn.
Johnson framed the moment not as one of ecstatic liberation, but rather as an uncertain and sometimes overwhelming introduction of possibility for female students. She observed educated women navigating a convoluted path of desire, respect, security, and shame in pursuit of the dream of a full life: “a husband, a career, community work, children, and the rest.” Only an exceptional few could achieve that life without sacrificing personal or professional goals along the way, she predicted. For many of the rest of them, this pursuit would end in “an ulcer, a divorce, a psychiatrist, or deep disappointment”; and for some of them, those who were put off by the apparent futility of trying to balance all the expansive possibilities, “the most confining kind of domestic life.” Without the “moral generalizations” of her grandmother’s era, Johnson’s college girl was left to forge ahead toward those difficult choices with more subjective, and personal, judgment—carrying “her belief in herself,” or what she calls the “modern version” of herself, forward into the unknown.
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Johnson wrote “Sex and the College Girl” when she was 26, just five years after graduating from Smith. Though young, she was already beginning to establish herself as an author. She’d grown up as the daughter of a Hollywood filmmaker, surrounded by “an encampment of storytellers,” as she later recalled, and had published her first and ultimately most successful novel, The World of Henry Orient, a year earlier. Like “Sex and the College Girl,” the book drew on her own experiences as a student, fictionalizing the crush she and a friend had nursed for an actor-musician while they were in high school.
As Johnson grew older, the subjects of her writing generally did too, maturing as the decades wore on from students navigating the college dating scene to married couples to divorcées to aging lovers. But though the characters changed, the sense of uncertain possibility she described in “Sex and the College Girl” remained—sometimes joyful, sometimes dutiful, sometimes onerous, but never entirely gone. Johnson’s love stories, told in an era of expanding female choices, were weighted with the consciousness of them.
In “Sex and the College Girl,” the choices were myriad, novel, and full of potentially far-reaching consequences. Female students faced decisions about who to date, what to offer physically and emotionally, and how much to hold in reserve for how long. Beyond that immediate horizon stretched a broader array of opportunities and potential pitfalls: children, careers, and all of the self-betterment and intellectual rigor their educations were preparing them for. Commitment and marriage, in a sense, presented an out—a sense of certainty, a solid support system. “Joe has a future,” Johnson wrote. “He knows exactly what he is going to do after graduation … The decision about [the college girl’s] life keeps her awake at night, but when she is with Joe things make more sense.”
Two years later, in “The Captivity of Marriage,” Johnson described the constrained choices of the women who stuck with their Joes. Now juggling the responsibilities of raising children, keeping a house, and engaging in “community or P.T.A. work of some kind,” married women “feel … like a pie with not enough pieces to go around,” Johnson wrote. But the new responsibilities and family and community ties did not put the “undefined dreams” of their younger years to rest; instead, the wife and mother “vaguely feels that she is frittering away her days and that a half-defined but important part of her ability is lying about unused.” That feeling of dissatisfaction, Johnson observed, was coupled with the lingering “quality of excitement that comes from strangeness and the idealization of still-unknown experience” that made the concept of sex with an unfamiliar partner attractive. But those choices, which would take women away from their husbands and children, were now taboo. In their place were new choices, more limited but still unfamiliar and consequential. “Choosing a house and everything that goes into it, and a school, and a competent doctor are decisions that the young mother makes without adequate knowledge,” Johnson wrote, “and she can ill afford mistakes.”
She described the fallout from one error in judgment a year later in “A Marriage on the Rocks,” an article published in the July 1962 issue of TheAtlantic. “The moment when it first becomes apparent that one’s marriage was a mistake,” she opened the piece, “is the beginning of probably the longest, darkest period in the human lifetime.” She chronicled the slow fracturing of a union that, to the college girl, had carried a promise of lifelong certainty in an otherwise unknown future. Unhappiness settled in and grew unbearable as the relationship devolved into “the endless opening of wounds … capitulating one’s beliefs … [and] adjusting oneself to the dismal and baneful workable compromise.” But choosing to break free of that unhappiness meant exchanging it for a new, unknown one, defined by a sudden and “terrible feeling of having no one around on whom to blame everything.”
Johnson expressed the frustration of seeing a marriage fail while knowing that, with the newly available options for women to marry for love and to define more aspects of their life and work, “all of us … have the potential to become the greatest lovers on earth.” She wondered: “All this freedom and opportunity are breathtaking. Do we deserve them, and can we possibly live up to their obligations?”
Divorce loomed large in Johnson’s life. Her parents’ marriage ended when she was 6 years old, and they moved to separate coasts, leaving Johnson to shuttle back and forth between her mother’s New York home and her father’s star-studded Hollywood life for much of her childhood and adolescence. “My heart begins to tear, a long ragged rent which I have spent my life trying to mend,” she reflected in her 1982 memoir You Can Go Home Again, looking back on the dissolution of her family. She recalled how her mother’s attempts to become “an elegant divorced lady in a lovely house in the most exciting city in the world” transitioned into a second marriage to a possessive man who resented Nora when she returned home for a time as an adult after her own first marriage failed.
By the time she turned 32 in 1965, Johnson had already been married, divorced, and married a second time herself. In The Atlantic’s June 1961 issue, in which “The Captivity of Marriage” was published, she was introduced to readers as “happily married and the mother of two daughters.” When “A Marriage on the Rocks” was printed in the July 1962 issue,those details were omitted from her introduction. By the time she published You Can Go Home Again at the age of 59, her second marriage had also ended in divorce. In that sense, she fulfilled the melancholy predictions of “Sex and the College Girl” twice over.
But she had also built a successful career as a writer of novels, memoirs, articles, and, once, in collaboration her father, a movie based on The World of Henry Orient. Decades later, in an essay for The New York Times, she wrote about something she hadn’t predicted: finding love again. Johnson “was a long-divorced 71”; George was 83 and “recently widowed.” He became her third husband. “What astonished us,” she wrote, “was that the electricity we generated was as strong and compelling as love had been 50 years before, that it scrambled the brain every bit as much. Yet more surprising was that we had a rousing and delightful sex life.”
They still faced daunting choices and disappointments. At first they lived together in Florida, but they grew bored and moved to New York, only to grow bored there too, and be cold, and miss Florida. They dealt with natural disasters and health problems. They had difficult conversations. And then, seven years after they met, George died.
All Johnson’s stories resist the neat closure of the happily ever after. The security that Joe seems to present in “Sex and the College Girl” proves illusory; love degrades, fractures apart, or abruptly ends. “Marriage, entered upon maturely, is the only life for most women,” Johnson wrote in 1961. “But it is a way of life, not a magic bag of goodies at the end of the road.” Even old age, retirement, and George, who she said “brought joy and magic to my life,” don’t put the uncertain possibility of other paths to rest or stave off the sting of disappointment.
But her stories also resist the closure of a final failure. The college girl grows up, gets married, gets divorced, gets married again. She makes the wrong choices and then gets to make new ones. “This, then, is what the result is for a girl who has been brought up in a world where the only real value is self-betterment,” Johnson concluded in 1959. “She has had to create her own right and wrong, by trial and error and endless discussion.”
This is the story that Johnson wrote again and again, for several decades, until she died in 2017: There’s no happily ever after, or any ever after at all, but there’s happiness. Heartbreak. Regret. Magic. Surprise. Her extraordinary work was also a life lived, and recorded in pieces, over decades of love stories.
Donald Trump is America’s most hated or loved man, depending on what side of the spectrum you’re on, and his deeply rooted misogyny is apparent in all levels of American culture.
While awarding a Presidential Medal of Freedom to the late Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia, Trump praised him for having lots of sex, but not without making a comment to Scalia’s widowed wife — “you were very busy.”
At first glance, this just seems like another one of Trump’s poorly-timed, unnecessary remarks. In reality, this is an example of how the double standard of men and women, especially in the bedroom, is so skewed even as adults.
It’s time for the double standard surrounding sex to end — including the sexual hierarchy that favors males.
Ian Moulton, an ASU professor of English and cultural history, said that this double standard is due to hundreds of years of society seeing a women’s place as in the home.
“What has happened over time, is that the work that men do is valued more than the work that women do,” Moulton said. “Men go out and do work that is seen as important or responsible or powerful and traditionally that’s been rewarded with some sort of payment. Whereas women’s work has been seen as unpaid work: you take care of the kids.”
A woman’s place is not confined to a household anymore — and society has begun to accept that.
Research with the Florida Atlantic University found that, “Men are usually allowed more sexual leniency and are evaluated with more acceptance and tolerance relative to sexual behaviors and number of sexual partners when compared to women who engage in the same behaviors.”
Heterosexual sex is often seen strictly as something a man does to a woman. While it may be a consensual, two person act, the woman’s role is diminished because the focus falls on the pleasure of men and less on that of women.
When sex is seen as something men are in control of, it can have harmful repercussions and even change the way men and women view sexual health. Research in connection with Pennsylvania State University found that women who view men with a traditional gendered role in society were less likely to use condoms.
“Findings suggest the importance of examining gender’s role in sexual behaviors and beliefs by assessing multiple gendered attitudes, rather than simply considering biological sex,” the research stated.
When men and women act how they are “supposed” to act, then gender roles begin to seep into the bedroom. Just because women need to be viewed as equals when discussing sexuality, it doesn’t mean a woman is always ready or comfortable to have sex — or that they will voice this discomfort.
The stigma around women’s sexual activity and identity should not be diminished.
Men tend to assume that their needs align to the needs of their sexual partners, and whether it’s a late night ‘booty call’ or at a party, it’s still an assumption. Whether a woman has two, ten or twenty sexual partners, her character or quality of life should not be viewed as less than a man’s.
In fact, studies and averages are “a comparison trap,” says Megan Fleming, PhD, a sex and relationships counselor who practices in New York. “It’s really more about what works in your relationship.”
Sex therapists generally consider someone with a penis to be experiencing premature ejaculation if they are ejaculating after less than two minutes of penetrative sex, Dr. Fleming says. The Mayo Clinic’s definition of premature ejaculation adds an important caveat: “Premature ejaculation occurs when a man ejaculates sooner during sexual intercourse than he or his partner would like.” If both partners are happy with how long sex is lasting, then it’s not something to be concerned about — there’s a lot more to sex than penetration, after all. “How much does [the partner] enjoy penetration?” Dr. Fleming asks. “Maybe they already had an orgasm first because of foreplay, oral, or manual stimulation.”
But if both partners — no matter their gender or genitalia — want sex to last longer, they can try some different tactics to make that happen. Dr. Fleming divides these strategies into two groups: the physical and the psychological. On the physical side, there are masturbation exercises. In particular, people with penises can “learn to stay in the safe zone before the point of inevitability, which is ejaculation,” says Dr. Fleming. If sex isn’t lasting long because one person is experiencing pain or discomfort, see a professional who can see if there’s an underlying health condition. If you’d like sex to end more quickly, masturbation exercises also apply. And whether you’d like sex to last longer or end more quickly, you should be using lube— it helps reduce friction, makes sex feel more comfortable, and feels great. Try experimenting with different amounts lube, or trying different kinds of lube, to see how that feels.
There’s also the psychological side of sex. Along with trying out positions and types of sex, “that might mean including fantasy, or talking dirty,” Dr. Fleming says. It can also mean reframing what you think of as sex to include sexual activities outside of penetration — and if there’s a cis man in the couple, it can mean rethinking the idea that sex ends when he has an orgasm.
Dr. Fleming also suggests trying new sexual activities more than once — even if the first time you try a new position doesn’t have an effect on how soon your orgasm happens, that might be different the third time you try it. “When you try something new, you want to try, try again,” she says. She refers to the safe word system of red, yellow, and green, where red means “stop,” green means “go,” and yellow means “slow down” or “give me a moment.” “If it’s awful, ‘red light,’ then obviously don’t” try it again, she says. “But if it’s more like a yellow, then hang out and see if it turns green. Sometimes we have to do things enough to really be present and relax, and relaxation is the foundation of arousal
“I’d rather they just don’t teach anything if they can’t be honest.”
— Susan Lontine, a Colorado state representative who introduced a bill that would mandate teachings about safe sex, consent and sexual orientation in the state’s public schools
By the time I was 15, most of my knowledge about puberty was gleaned from one-dimensional tales on TV and in movies. I learned what it meant when a pubescent boy carried a book in front of his body (cue laugh track) and that when girls develop breasts, boys (and men) “can’t help but” ogle them. That’s about it.
In the last year or so, TV and film have made strides in representing pubescent girls as complex and awkward beings who also happen to be sex-obsessed (a trait normally reserved for adolescent boys), my colleague Amanda Hess pointed out in a recent piece about the shows “PEN15” and “Big Mouth” and the movie “Eighth Grade.”
“The lustful adolescent girl is having her moment,” wrote Hess, a Times culture critic. “It is not, to be clear, an altogether glorious time,” she said, adding that “girls’ feelings matter, too. And these girls feel so much.”
Such nuances and acknowledgments of female sexuality are largely missing from sex education in U.S. schools, where curriculum is lacking over all.
The majority of states don’t mandate sex ed at all, and just 13 require that the material be medically accurate. Abstinence education remains a pillar of most programs. And that is saying nothing of more complex issues like consent, sexual orientation and gender identity. (In seven states, laws prohibit educators from portraying same-sex relationships positively.)
Simultaneously, the influence of pornography is growing. “Easy-to-access online porn fills the vacuum, making porn the de facto sex educator for American youth,” Maggie Jones wrote in The New York Times Magazine last year. Her article pointed to a study in which high schoolers reported that pornography was their primary source for information about sex — more than friends, siblings, schools or parents.
“There’s nowhere else to learn about sex, and porn stars know what they are doing,” one boy told Jones.
But to keep up with the times, new efforts to broaden the scope of sex ed are bubbling up.
A pornography-literacy course, titled The Truth About Pornography, was a recent addition to Start Strong, a peer-leadership program for teenagers headquartered in Boston and funded by the city’s public-health agency.
In Colorado, a new comprehensive, student-supported sex education bill is working its way through the state’s Legislature. It would require the teaching of safe sex, consent and sexual orientation, as well as bar abstinence-only sex education. If passed, Colorado would be the ninth state to require that consent be taught.
And today, the first guide to gender-inclusive puberty education was published by Gender Spectrum, a nonprofit organization that works to create gender-sensitive and inclusive environments for children.
Among other principles, the guide — intended to give educators tools they can incorporate into existing course materials — stresses the complexity of gender as the interrelationship between one’s body, identity and expression. The point, according to Gender Spectrum, is to “ensure that no student’s passage through puberty is stigmatized or made invisible.”
Perhaps leading the way is the British government, which last week announced a major change to the nation’s sex education curriculum, the first revision in decades. Starting in 2020, it will cover topics including same-sex relationships, transgender people, menstruation, sexual assault, forced marriage, pornography and sexting.
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