Sex blogger Girlonthenet candidly dicusses society’s squeamish reactions to discussion of sexual desires. A good insight on the equal distribution of sexual desire and breaking away from boundaries of expressing them.
Let’s cut to the chase. Most of us pursue sex with a sweaty and dogged determination. And yet the newspapers are horrified by civil servants tweeting lewd jokes and female film stars who have affairs with beautiful men. It’s not just newspapers – people, in conversation, make judgmental statements and possess narrow-minded attitudes about sex. Their actions and attitudes are frequently hypocritical as well. We tell people that sex disgusts us not because we believe it but because we are made to feel we have to.
We frown on spankos like Max Mosley, express pity for the men who visit prostitutes, and pretend we only read 50 Shades of Grey to see what all the fuss was about. On Saturday evenings cackling hen parties giggle about dick – “ooh, Janine, isn’t it funny! Aren’t cocks dangly and gross?” – then rush home with moist cunts to thoroughly enjoy the gross, dangly appendages belonging to their partners.
But we can’t believe these things we say – not really. If we were as repulsed and amused by the sexual act as we pretend to be, no one would ever fuck. Right now you can open up a browser window and be deluged with filth so powerfully diverse that it couldn’t possibly have been made just for a group of anomalous perverts. We’re *all* perverts – the vast majority of us like sex. So why don’t we talk about it?
“But we do, girlonthenet, you fucking idiot. Sex is everywhere – it’s in our adverts and on telly and in magazines and books and films. You can barely turn around in a crowded shopping centre without seeing at least three references to cock rings.”
Fair point – we do talk about sex. But not properly – we’re not having an honest conversation. We’re not even having an inclusive conversation. We’re having a discussion about sex led by the people who write the tabloid headlines and commission the playful ‘sex tips’ articles. The ones who make the blow-up cocks and drip feed us laminated, bleached, explain-it-to-your-parents-as-a-laugh view of sexuality that doesn’t capture how any of us really feel.
Sex is disgusting. It’s sweaty and dirty and horrible, and wonderful. It’s full of lust, deeply complex emotions, screaming orgasms and whispered desires and wanking and crying and spunk.
“My boyfriend calls me a bitch and I like it.”
“One of the hottest things I ever did was get groped by men in a sex cinema.”
“I’ve always wanted a guy to piss in me. Not on me – in me.”
And of course we don’t have these discussions over the water cooler at work. But I don’t understand why we so rarely have these conversations with our friends and our lovers.
The most common thing people say to me since I launched my sex blog is “you’re so honest. I wish I could be that open.” Well congratulations – you can. You’d be surprised at how, by becoming the go-to pervert, you are suddenly privy to the desires and needs of other people. Whispered admissions from women that they actually enjoy anal. Blushing confessions from men that they’ve always wanted to wear knickers.
Yes, I’m disgusting, but so are you. And so are millions of others. It’s just that they don’t want you to know, because they think you’re ‘normal’, whatever the sweating fuck ‘normal’ is. None of us really knows, because instead of talking to each other about real desires, we’re listening to giggling Ann Summers reps and guffawing ad men, who brandish pictures of the copy/paste amply-titted angels they imagine all men want.
I get it – you’re embarrassed – you don’t have to recount every intimate and repulsive sexual foible over a pint in Wetherspoons, but you can at the very least join me in supporting those who will.
So next time someone in the pub recounts the latest fetish they were asked to live out by an oversharing OK Cupid user, instead of saying ‘oh my God, how disgusting, he should be LOCKED UP’ in the manner of a screaming tabloid banner, give it a bit of thought. Is their sexual example really that bad, or is it harmless? Is it, in fact, something you yourself might find hot if the person requesting it was one you fancied?
And, in light of these things, should your reaction more realistically be ‘it’s not my cup of tea, but to each his own.’
I appreciate that it can be awkward and difficult to broach sexual subjects. But while we’re building up the courage as a society to come out as foot fetishists, spankos, and sexual oddballs, could we at the very least avoid knee-jerk condemnation of those who are?
Don’t just react how you think you should. Don’t write articles about buttsex as if it’s a rare and terrifying challenge, and don’t giggle when people talk about dick. Stop, take a minute, and think ‘do I really, deep down, believe this?’ I bet in many cases you don’t.
www.girlonthenet.com
www.twitter.com/girlonthenet
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