The difference is that sex-positive feminism is involves thinking about sexuality, talking about sexuality, and not apologizing for bringing up sexuality as a part of feminism.  It’s the idea that sex is value-neutral, not a shameful thing to be giggled about hidden under the covers.  Sex is a valid topic for feminist discussion, and part of feminism is looking into the shame and blame our culture attributes to sex and challenging those attitudes.  This is getting confused with sexuality according to scripts set by the mainstream, without any actual thought about it, disguised as “feminism” but really just another form of marketing.

Sex-positive feminists are critiquing a culture that uses sexual repression and shame to make space for women who seem to have no idea what they’re talking about and may be having bad sex, but aren’t really thinking about it.  This culture encourages girls to grow up enthusiastic about sex, but actually asking detailed questions is extraordinarily taboo.  We encourage girls to “just know” when they reach puberty, and assume the same of boys. Of course, we don’t provide any education into queerness, trans* identities, polyamory, or kink, so kids just have to fumble into those things on their own.  On the surface, this permissiveness about sex in a general sense may look like sex-positivity, but it’s really just as Puritan as condemning sex wholesale.

I am a proud sex-positive feminist, and I’m committed to changing this culture for the better.

The two CDs are very similar–each 44-minute meditation starts with an extended period of relaxation, moving the focus through each body part, and then moves into sense-focused cues intended to evoke a feeling of pleasure throughout the body.  The meditations are followed by a 16-minute music track.  One CD features Michaels’ voice, and the other features Johnson’s, so the listener can select a meditation based on a preference for a male or female voice, or for one of the featured artists used for a backing track.

Compared to other audio meditations I’ve used, I found Anandra Nidra to be very effective.  Though, like most meditations, I had difficulty staying awake through the long relaxation portion, afterwards I felt rested and slightly heavy in my limbs, a feeling I’ve sought from my early yoga practice without success.  I would use these CDs to meditate for that effect alone, aside from any sensual desires.  I was pleasantly surprised that my first experience with yoga nidra was in fact more effective than a “regular” meditation.  My only complaint on this point is that the instructions at the end of the CD guide the listener through waking and movement, which makes it harder to maintain the meditative state through the additional music track.

As a sensual practice, I have more mixed feelings.  I like the idea of focusing on different sorts of pleasurable sensations, but the cues are specific enough to alienate some listeners.  For example, a reference to penetration may pull some out of the meditation.  The meditation also assumes that the listener has, or has had, a sexual partner, and has had specific sexual experiences with that person.  I did appreciate that the culmination of the practice does not put pressure on the listener to have an particular experience, but I didn’t feel that the meditation gave me any special sort of sensual or sexual experience, either.  I am curious about whether over time, this might be a way of becoming more in tune with one’s sexuality or sensual experience, but it’s probably a good idea not to have your tantric expectations set too high as a beginner.

If you’re interested in purchasing this CD, it can be found through the TantraPM website.

So in general, I really, really agree with this.  However, I wanted to bring something up about one of the points, because it is an interesting question, and it’s part of why I’ve struggled with the way enthusiastic consent is presented, while at the same time loving the model.

the moment she softly or UN-emphatically says “fine” or “yes”

It’s problematic that we require a “no.”  I have been in situations where I was silent when I wasn’t sure how or whether to say no, and while in context it wasn’t rape, it was a little dodgy.  We need to respect that often it IS rape in that circumstance, because someone is not able to speak for whatever reason, or decides not to because they don’t think the person would stop if they did and don’t want to go through that, or whatever else.  It’s also crucial to pay attention to a partner’s tone in sex.  I can easily imagine a tone in which someone could say fine, especially—fearful, resigned, etc.—that would to me signal “STOP.”

But at the same time, I think that sometimes enthusiastic consent is presented in a way that limits the sexual options of those who are shy, or experimenting, or trying something they DO want but are nervous about.  That’s why the communication piece of enthusiastic consent is so important, of course.  If you’re having sex where you’re not talking much, and that soft “yes” is the only thing someone has to go off of, it’s very difficult to know where your head is.  If you’ve talked, if someone knows that, for example, you’re shy and this is really hard for you and it’s a battle to speak up in sex but you’re trying and that soft yes is a triumph, then it’s easy to proceed and know everything’s consensual.

I have a problem with the idea that everyone must be loud, enthusiastic, unapologetic, and shouting from the rooftops about sex, because often we feel that way inside but it’s hard to vocalize.  Or maybe it’s easy in some cases, but hard in others—a submissive in subspace, for example, may find it harder to talk when hir head is there.  If that’s the case, then partners can talk in advance, come up with non-verbal ways to communicate, or just accept that a quiet “yes” is going to be all the consent a person can manage to get out of hir mouth.

I have found that enthusiastic consent in terms of communication, negotiation, and being specific about desires is pretty fucking awesome.  And so sometimes that quiet “yes,” even when you feel silly about your barely-audible voice, even when you’re shaking, even when to an outsider you might look like someone about to end up in a pretty dodgy situation, can be amazing to get out of your mouth.  That can be a real achievement, and I’d like to see that recognized alongside other means of consenting.

How many people’s mouths would you stick your finger in? A lot. I would stick my finger in a lot of people’s mouths. But how many people would you let stick their finger in your mouth? Not as many! There is a biological difference between the way women and men experience sex, and each gender should view and treat sex in its own way. I think women need a velvet rope and a self-important doorman for their vaginas, monitoring who gets access. If you’re not on the list, you are not coming inside.

This is how Nagy’s article starts, firmly rooted in the second grade.  Sexuality, I don’t need to remind my regular readers, is not a linear transaction that we take part in by following a rigid script.  This includes heterosexual sex.  By distilling it down to the penis-in-vagina elements, Nagy clearly misses a thousand points.

But it gets better.  What’s so dangerous about this article is that it’s not satire. People are taking it seriously.  It appears on the Huffington Post front page, guaranteeing a huge number of page views, and it plays into familiar ladymag myths of the woman who, while “overly” sexual in her twenties, embarking on what Tony Nagy deems as every self-possessed woman’s “whore tour,” comes to view sex as a transaction, a game in which men and women play familiar roles.

Nagy plays into biological arguments that have shown up far too frequently in articles on heterosexuality recently–sex makes women want to bond, good sex is emotional, and women crave sperm.  She then treats sex as a prize that men have to earn, stating that “The harder a guy has to work to get into your pants, the better he will treat the girl wearing them. “

Watch out, ladies.  Don’t make him work hard enough, and your vagina’s value will be diminished.

So how does this article perpetuate rape culture, you ask?  Well, it puts another voice behind the proposition that sex is a commodity, as are women’s bodies.  It positions heterosexual sex as a game–though women are apparently expected to give it up young, a little twist on the usual narrative, as women age the dating game shifts back into transactional territory where value lies in access to a woman’s body.  That access, of course, revolves around PIV sex, because we should be picky about who puts their “finger” in our “mouth.”

Sex-positive activists, it’s time to amp up the education efforts.  Let’s keep talking about why articles like this are damaging to women and to our entire society.  Let’s attack these myths by providing examples of how sex can be fluid and varied.  Let’s remind everyone that gender is far more complicated than this picture would suggest, and that queer women exist.  If we don’t point out the cissexism, heteronormativity, and plain old sexism in arguments like this, no one else is going to do it for us.

The book relies on a number of foundational exercises to help women find their dirty talking style, along with a plethora of examples taken from Dr. Neustifter’s practice.  The real meat of the book comes when readers are encouraged to find their personal style by choosing a wearable item to symbolize their sensuality and form the basis of their style of dirty talking.  The burgeoning dirty talker need not be led any particular direction by this exercise–it is highly individualized, which is what makes it a good jumping off point for the rest of the exercises in the book. Whether the “nice girls” picking up this volume are drawn in the direction of shocking and nasty, sweet and sensual, or shy and boyish, this particular exercise allows the reader to find a comfortable starting place from which to explore dirty talk.

Given the massive destructive impact of using funding to silence NGOs, I’m thrilled to hear that a court has recognized the free speech implications here.  Unfortunately, this only applies to funding for American groups, but it is a first step.  Why is this so important?

You can’t fight a disease without recognizing the circumstances under which it spreads and without understanding why people do or do not seek treatment for it.  Denouncing sex work is a pointless, moralistic requirement that actively harms a group’s ability to get treatment and prevention help to those who actually need it.  If we’re going to fight HIV and AIDS, we need to destigmatize both the disease and the populations it impacts.  We also need to look at circumstances that impact its transmission, including violently restrictive policies against sex work, widespread rape, unequal marriages, homophobia, transphobia, police abuse, and drug use.  We need NGOs to learn about the populations they support and understand context before providing resources.  We need to stop overlaying one culture onto the entire world.

I hope this ruling is just the first in a long series of steps in the right direction.

Here’s my take: when you teach adults and children sex-negative messages, sex becomes an undifferentiated mass of “wrong.”  If all sex is wrong, then why try to tease out good from bad, pleasurable from painful?  When students are taught not to think about sex, they aren’t going to spend any time determining what they do and don’t want, or what they might be interested in.  Of course, they’re going to have sex eventually, but when it happens will they be able to communicate at all through the veil of guilt, shame, and self-loathing that sex negativity encourage?

Sex-negative messages don’t keep people from having sex.  They keep people from having good sex.  They keep people from having pride in their sexuality, from sexual self-awareness.  They keep people from asking questions about sex, and communicating with their partners.  They discourage experimentation.  They blur the lines between consensual sex and rape by framing all sex as an undifferentiated mass of “bad.”  They combine victim-blaming with generalized guilt about sex, so that perpetrator and survivor are equally culpable.  Basically, they take logic and reason out of the equation.

Sex doesn’t “lead to assault.”  Sex is not the culprit.  Silence is the culprit.  Shame is the culprit.  Educational institutions should teach young people how to communicate, how to express their desires and listen to what a potential sex partner is saying.  If young people have no language to communicate about sex, if sex is a furtive, secret, scary thing, then some of those young people are going to assault their peers because it is the only way they know to respond to their physical desires.  However, if young people are taught to speak clearly and honestly about sex, and to respect one another, then the sex that does take place will more likely be consensual.  It may not be possible to eliminate rape entirely, but the answer is not to put sex back in the closet.

Now, I realize that dominants are not mind readers, and that it is important to have some comfort with approaching someone you’re interested in if you want to hook up in a D/s space.  Submissives shouldn’t expect to stand shyly in a corner and have a dominant immediately approach and proposition them.  But it’s also insulting to put down shy personalities.  It’s not unreasonable for someone who identifies as submissive to prefer to be the one reacting when it comes to flirting.  Many submissives may be more comfortable accepting an invitation than making one.  And frankly, that can lead to a more rewarding submissive sexuality.

Let’s say a submissive person runs up to you and says “hey, I’m interested, let’s go, here’s what I want to do, right now, come on.”  If that approach attracts you, you may very well be uncomfortable taking the lead.  If that’s true, then submitting to you might be be difficult, scary, and possibly unrewarding.  It would seem to make more sense, then, for a shy submissive to wait for someone more compatible than risk that kind of thing happening.

I’m not going to try to respond directly to the article, though if you’d like to read a good response, you should try Jill’s Feminism makes boners sad or Thomas’s Inherent Female Submission Follies: Why Ogi Ogas Is Full of Shit.  Instead, I want to share a perspective that is entirely anecdotal, and doesn’t prove anything about this hypothesis because I’m a queer person that does not live on the gender binary.  I want to share it because it’s important to me as a submissive, as a feminist, and as someone who believes in the importance of sexual communication.

I fell into feminism late, at the age of 23.  I don’t think it’s much of a coincidence that all my negative sexual experiences occured before this date, and all the positive ones after.  I don’t believe that feminism is a magic pill, but I do think that certain feminist resources, such as the anthology Yes Means Yes, as well as a slew of feminist blogs, can be eye-opening.

I’ve known that I was a submissive since the age of 13, and was raised female.  I never had a problem with being submissive, but I did find it difficult to express when presented with an actual sexual partner.  I started having sex at 19, with a male partner, and the sex ranged from boring and painful to me lying on my back wondering if this is what rape feels like, and then feeling guilty for having such an ugly thought about such a nice young man.

The defining characteristic of that sexual relationship was a lack of communication.  I had submissive desires, but I didn’t express them because he was very “normal” and not very sexually motivated.  I couldn’t imagine him having sexual kinks.  I wanted to enjoy sex, and I encouraged it taking place, but it felt more like a duty.  Pants off, do the deed, fake an orgasm, and about our merry way.

What changed, later in my life, is that eventually something snapped, and with the help of feminism and a considerable degree of choosiness regarding sexual partners, I learned to communicate my sexual desires frankly and honestly.   My current sexual partners, and those I’ve had sex with on a more casual basis since discovering feminism, have been supportive of my submissiveness and made me feel safe in communicating those desires.  I’ve felt far more empowered as a practicing submissive, having fantasies about being ordered and even forced almost everytime I’ve had partner sex, than I ever did in a more conventional sexual relationship.

My conclusion is that, for me at least, submission is entirely consistent with gender equality and with feminism.  It’s a patriarchal, misogynist culture that makes it difficult for submissive women to communicate their desires to heterosexual cismale boyfriends, because there’s frankly no way of knowing what to expect.  In a sexual culture where communication is discouraged, it’s entirely possible and even likely that a boyfriend will use the knowledge of a female’s sexual submission to humiliate, take advantage of, even assault her.  Disclosing submissive fantasies requires a lot of trust, and knowledge that a relationship is a safe space to communicate, to be specific about desires and limits.

I also think that the researchers missed the point in another way.  There’s a big difference between wanting to submit sexually and wanting to be completely overpowered or wanting to live in an unequal relationship.  There’s nothing wrong with consensually choosing a TPE relationship, of course, but the tone of the article leads me to believe that the authors picture female sexual submission where a woman is fully fulfilling her desires as a situation where she has no control, gives up on any notions of feminism, and allows a man to fully overpower her in as many ways as possible.

There is, in fact, a middle ground.  A heterosexual couple can work towards gender equality in their relationship and the wider world while also engaging in D/s play where the female submits.  Not to beat a dead horse, but this is the whole point of a safeword and negotiation.  Those safeguards, and the communication encouraged in many BDSM cultures, are entirely consistent with feminism.  In an ideal world of gender equality, women would have a safe space to communicate submissive desires, submit to a dominant man, and not feel ashamed or guilty about it.  Pipedream, maybe, but less so than the world where these researchers live.

Some of the highlights for me included:

• A couple of really great practical workshops courtesy of Shanna Katz and Lillith Grey on intersectionality and feminist relationships, respectively
• An opening panel that really got my mind moving and made me feel encouraged about my possible role as a young sexuality activist bridging the gap between young feminist and queer communities and sex educators (not to mention an incredibly welcoming table of folks who helped to assuage my initial anxieties for the con)
• Massage exchange to cure that incredibly inconvenient “Twitter neck” phenomenon
• Princess Kali doing a workshop on D/s and feminism in absolutely genuine motherfucking Christian Louboutins, and the winning sex geekery of having a partner in perversion in the form of Miss Luna
• Just generally, the joy of the Twitter stream making up at least in part for the fact that I can’t be in three places at once
• A really awesome panel that I got to participate in with Jenny Block, Anita Wagner, Jessica Karels, and a very engaging audience
• The unexpected support I felt from various folks at the con when I brought up things like class, accessibility, and financial difficulties in relation to sex work/writing/activism
• Reid Mihalko doing a speed flirting session to break the ice, because let’s face it, in an environment like this I want to have sex with half the people there and simultaneously cannot stop blushing (yes, we are all in 7th grade!)
• A really nice chill time Saturday evening that helped me recharge and get my head back together
• An also really nice time Saturday night in the bar with some pretty intensely sexy things to watch, snuggles, a cane, and a two-thumbs-up encounter upstairs that I would definitely classify as sex positive
• The small but very supportive group of people who came to my Poly & New Media session and helped turn it into a moderated discussion (which always feels much more comfortable to me in a small group) with a productive exchange of ideas about social media and how to improve it to be more poly-friendly
• The absolute kick-ass final panel that made me want to buy some Tristan Taormino porn

See you next year!