NSFW. Discusses sex experiences.
Since blogger-that-makes-me-uncomfortable-quite-often Glosswitch coined the term “smugsexual” and things erupted on twitter, since which the hole has continued to be dug, it seems like it’s time for terrible feminists like me to be smug about sex.
I don’t have any good commentary to add to it all right now. If you want some good discussion that gets into personal experiences of biphobia, do read what Stavvers posted on the matter. But I was thinking about sex and my life, and I do feel the need to take a moment to be smug about sex experiences right now.
It took me fucking long enough to get there. It took me 23 years of life to get to a point at which I date and sleep with other women in a way that’s understood by both parties as homosexual; a way that means dating someone because you’re like each other, not because you’re each other’s complementary opposite or some shit like that. For that reason, it took me 23 years of life; it took me attempts to date either women or men from the (fundamentally wrong) position of being a man, to actually really enjoy and be comfortable with dating and sleeping with other people.
And it took me 24 years of life and the assistance of more estrogen than I ought to be taking to have orgasms like I have now.
Actually, I’m not sure I ever really had orgasms before that. Either that, or they were just crappy; some heightened sensation in my genitals for a few seconds and… basically just that. And not even that though PIV sex. I would sometimes express pleasure that I wasn’t really feeling so that partners didn’t think they were failing (very much more so with male partners; make of that what you will).
It took me 24 years of life before I felt orgasms that spread right through my body; that cause me to make sounds of pleasure involuntarily; that make me lose all ability to produce conscious thoughts; that make me screw my eyes closed and devote all my attention to other senses. Orgasms that last more than a few seconds, and afterwards give me feelings of closeness to the person I’m in bed with that I’d not felt in the course of sex before. Orgasms that come close to explaining the fuss other people make about orgasms.
It’s really difficult to get there, and it requires that me and a partner are both really into what’s going on and want to put time and work into each other’s enjoyment of it. I can’t get there at all by myself (indeed, my sexuality requires others and the idea of pleasing others far more than it used to; a result certain feminists may prefer were buried). And sex that does not conclude with a magnificent orgasm or any orgasm at all can still be enjoyable and worthwhile.
It took me fucking long enough, but I got there and it’s awesome. I think I get to be smug about this one, right? I have not, after all, “shagged away [my] privilege and ended up on the margins of society“. Rather, I ended up being marginalised when I realised that I was a woman, and at least shagging can be a good experience as a result.
Indeed, that marginalisation comes back to me because I have sexuality and talk about it. I’m told I can’t be a real lesbian. That I’m an autogynephile – that I’m just fetishising the idea of myself as a woman. That by enjoying sex and talking about it, I’m contributing to the objectification of women, pandering to the male gaze and/or reinforcing gender stereotypes. That by not being hetero- and mono-sexual I make other trans women look bad. This all comes from those that should be my sisters as well as my oppressors.
I’m pretty sure the women being sneered at are much the same as me. We find ourselves marginalised on the basis of gender and/or sexuality. We find ourselves shamed by other women under the guise of feminism. Fuck all that; we’re entitled to our sexuality. And it’s not always easy for us, but the least we should be able to expect is that we enjoy the sex we have.