The other night my pal stepc brought my attention to the following news item via Twitter. It’s a quick read but if you’re pressed for time, the gist is this:

Cathy Sanders, the mother of a 13-year-old Nanaimo boy objects to the distribution of an animated flip book in her son’s grade 8 class room. The book, produced by Catie.ca and distributed by AIDS Vancouver Island features an explicit demonstration of a woman putting a condom on her erect partner’s penis and having sex with him.  According to the article, Ms. Sanders is pissed about the graphic nature of the pamphlet and the fact that it apparently upset her kid quite a bit.

(If you’d like to see for yourself, check out Ian A Martin’s latest blog post.  He turned the flipbook in to a pretty nifty animated gif. As I said, it’s graphic, so exercise necessary discretion when clicking through.)

I have to admit that when I first read the article, my initial reaction was ‘Bah! It’s not that big a deal. Cathy Sanders is uptight, overprotective and blowing this thing WAY out of proportion!‘.  I even composed a tweet to that effect. But as I looked over my 140 characters snark, I thought, ‘Hold up there, Judgey!‘ . Sanders may be affronted by flip-book sex but I have my own set of biases…

  • I am building a career predicated on the belief that frank, open and explicit communication about sexual health and pleasure are a good thing. Not everyone shares that belief.
  • I’ve worked in the sexual health/pleasure field for several years. Graphic depictions of sexstuffs have become normal and commonplace for me. This isn’t the case for most people.
  • I’ve spent the last three years of my sex education career working with youth. I know that many teenagers are sexually aware. I’ve become extremely comfortable with the reality that teens may be sexually active and may have sexual partners. But sexual readiness comes at different times for different people. Just because many of the youth I’ve encountered have been interested in sex that doesn’t mean this woman’s son felt the same way.

I’m also biased because I’ve spent a lot of my career advocating in favour of sex education for youth that goes beyond the telling them how sex will get them pregnant or sick. I’ve spent a lot of time and energy defending against the type of inflammatory rhetoric that calls a museum exhibit pornographic or claims that comprehensive sex ed curriculum will “teach kids how to have anal sex”.

So I read the article and because of my biases, my first impulse was to get defensive. But then I thought a little more. I thought, ‘This woman probably loves her son and wants what she feels is best for him.‘ I thought about how it might feel to be confronted by your troubled child and a cartoon erection if you weren’t expecting either of those things. I thought about parents and the type of messages we’re given about the role we’re supposed to play in our children’s sexual education.

I don’t feel the pamphlet was pornographic nor would I say that it was categorically age-inappropriate for 13-year-olds. But it may have been age-inappropriate for this particular 13-year-old, or at least unsettling. And when I stop to consider his mother’s position I do feel some sympathy for her. ‘Cause in my experience, parents are primed on exactly three types of sex talks: The Birds, The Bees and The BasicsYour Body Is Going Through Some Changes; and finally Only Have Sex When You Are Ready (You Are NOT Ready!) Son, Let’s Talk About This Naked Flip Book And Why It’s Bothering You, isn’t in the parents’ sex talk playbook. For the most part, we’re told it’s our job to dissuade our kids from having sex. So while I disagree with Ms. Sanders’ characterization of the book, I can sympathize a bit too.

As I was discussing this article on Twitter and later with The MoMs, I realized that as much as I talk and teach about sex, I rarely talk about sex education as part of parenting. And I think I need to change that. Yes, I have a certain level of factual knowledge. But how to convey that information to my son? I know my role when I walk into a classroom or workshop. What is my role as a parent?

Like most parents, ultimately I want my son to grow into a healthy, happy, decent human being. I know that as an adult his sexuality will most likely affect that health and happiness. But what do I say? How do I impart my ethical belief that everyone has the right to make their own choices about their own bodies, when my parental instincts are already hollering at me to MAKE HIM WEAR A CONDOM!?

If he chooses to be sexuality active, long-term I want him to enjoy those experiences without shame or fear. But if it turns out he’s straight, there’s a reasonable chance I’m going to ruin is early dating life by screaming “DON’T GET ANYONE PREGNANT!” every time he’s with a girl.

I want to tell him that he should have sex when he feels ready? But if he asks me, “Mum, how do I know when I’m ready?”, I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know if that’s my question to answer.

All of this to say, that it’s hard. Parenting means flying blind most of the time, especially when it comes to sex. I guess this blog post is my way of sending out a signal. Tell me, fellow parents, how do you feel about sex-educating your kids? Do you have fears, issues you feel ill-equipped to deal with? Do your emotions and the instinct to protect your young ever clash with your general belief system?

It’s sobering to realize how quick to judgement I can be. It can be far too easy to position myself as the enlightened sex expert in these situations. But while our boundaries may differ, Cathy Sanders is probably a loving, well-intentioned parent who found herself in a situation she probably didn’t know how to handle. I can sympathize with that, because I’ve been there…and I will be again.

How do you define the word ‘sex’?

I use the word in a couple different ways. There’s “sex” the biological category – intersex, female, male, etc. For a long time, I thought of “sex” in this sense as being synonymous with “gender” and would use both words interchangeably. Eventually I learned that “sex” refers to a set of physical traits (hormones, genitalia, chromosomes and more), while gender has to do with a person’s psychological and emotional identity.

Of course, I’m not a super science-y gal, so most of the time when I say “sex”,  I’m referring to the physical act. But what physical act?  ”Sex” is a word that open to a lot of interpretation. What I call sex may be very different from your definition of the word. What I call sex today is very different from the definition I had twenty years ago. Back then I would have told you that sex was  penis-in-vagina penetration because it had the potential to result in pregnancy and that everything else was a form of foreplay.

Then I experienced oral sex. Nothing about it felt like a warm up, a precursor or anything but the main event! So, I began to think of sex as not just vaginal penetration, but any partnered activity that was likely to produce an orgasm.

When I began working in sexual health and sex education, I began to understand how varied sexual experience can be. Again, I began to amend my definition of what consitutes “sex”, trying to find a meaning that was a bit broader and didn’t depend on partners or orgasms. Nowadays when I say sex, I mean something along the lines of “an intentional, consensual physical act which produces or enhances sexual pleasure.”

What do you mean when you talk about “sex”? Has its meaning changed for you over time or with certain experience? The comment section is yours!

 

Chlamydia is one of the most common sexually transmitted infections in North America. Communicable illnesses are a part of life. We can get sick from sharing food, from sharing space and sometimes from having sex. Infections aren’t ideal, but heaping extra stigma on STIs just because they result from sex, seems irrational, mean and all kinds of negative.

One in four of us will contract a sexually transmitted infection in our lifetime. For many of us that infection will be chlamydia. So kick back and relax, while I hit you with a few chlamydia facts! *

What is it?

Chlamydia is a bacterial STI, caused by microscopic shit-disturbers known as Chlamydia tracomatis. Chlamydia infects the cervix in females or the urethra in males. Left untreated, chlamydia can lead to further complications such as pelvic inflammatory disease, epididymitis and in some cases infertility.

How is it transmitted?

Chlamydia can be transmitted through vaginal, anal or oral sex. It can also be passed from an infected parent to a baby during a vaginal delivery. Using safer sex barriers like condoms and dental dams can help reduce spread of Chlamydia.

What are the symptoms?

The most common symptoms of chlamydia are burning or pain during urination, abdominal pain, pain during during intercourse, fever and cloudy white discharge. (Pro-tip: The discharge is different from the normal ejaculate/discharge that comes out of our fun bits.)

Now here’s the important thing about chlamydia and symptoms. Chlamydia is super-weasely. Most people with the infection won’t present any symptoms at all – especially when the infection is in the cervix.  Fortunately, medical-types can screen for the infection with either a swab or urine test.  If you’re sexual active, you can arrange for testing through your regular health professional or pay a visit to a sexual health centre. In Ottawa, you can also download your own requisition form and take it directly to a testing lab.

How is it treated?

Chlamydia can be cured with course of oral antibiotics. Most health care professionals will tell you that it’s very important to complete the entire course of medication. They often direct patients to lay off the sexin’ until a week or so after they’ve finished their antibiotics, just to be on the safe side.

What else should I know?

Performing oral sex on an infected partner can sometimes lead to a chlamydia infection in the throat. Also touching an infected area and then touching the eyes can cause a nasty eye infection, which left untreated may lead to blindness.

Chlamydia testing is not part of a routine pap smear.

If you test positive for chlamydia it is highly recommended that your sexual partners be tested as well. Sometimes public health practitioners will ask for partners’ contact information so they can give them the heads up that they should come in for testing.

There are other strains of Chlamydia, some which affect humans and some that can be found in other animals, such as koalas. (Shout out to Younes for that fascinating fact!)

* FYI, I’m not a doctor or any kind of medical authority. I strongly suggest you based any health-related decision on the advice of a trained professional.


 

 

In the spirit of a new year and new beginnings, I’m introducing a new feature called: Question of the Week.

In university my classmates and I used to write a ‘Question of the Day’ on the blackboard in the theatre student lounge. These questions almost always centered around sex and almost always sparked some lively, informative discussion. All that talking about sex helped me feel okay about sex. It seems like a tradition worth reviving.

Of course participation is completely optional. You can answer often, occasionally or not at all. If you have something to say but you’re feeling shy, you’re always welcome to comment anonymously.

So without further ado, let’s get to this week’s question:

How did you first learn about sex?

I’m lucky. My introduction to sex was safe, simple and very straightforward. I was three or four years old when I asked my mother how babies were made. Mom calmly replied that babies were the result of  intercourse. She went on to explain that intercourse was when a man put his penis in a woman’s vagina. My mom described sex as something totally normal, which I realize in retrospect was some pretty rad parenting on her part. I walked away from that first conversation with a shiny new piece of knowledge and virtually no prejudice about whether this sex thing was good or bad

Most experts agree that when preschoolers ask questions about sex, adults should answer their question directly, without going into  a lot of additional detail. Which is what my mom did. Throughout, it’s also what my teachers and other adults in my life did. Because sex was always described to me as a penis in a vagina and because all the pictures I saw in books were static, I thought sex was passive and still.  My mom told me that grown-ups enjoyed sex because it was pleasant and pleasurable. I assumed she meant “pleasant” the way grown-ups thought drinking coffee was pleasant or reading magazines was pleasant. The word sex conjured images of naked people lying in bed, quietly connected at the crotch, talking about taxes or names for the baby they were making.  It wasn’t until I saw my first saw porn that I understood how active sex can be.

That’s my story. I’d love to hear yours. The comment section is open – tell me how and when you first learned about sex.

 

I have a hard time expressing myself erotically. True story.

I can talk about sex. I’ve engaged in what I call “intellectual smut” for years. It didn’t begin this way but over time, these frank, informative discussions of sexuality have become familiar and easy for me. After years of reading, writing, learning and teaching I’m perfectly comfortable steering any conversation towards the subject of clitoral response or anal anatomy. These days sex-words virtually spill from my mind and my mouth – so long as the purpose is to inform, rather than to arouse.

I am an erotic person. I have sexual thoughts and desires. I ponder people, their parts and things I’d like to do to them. I think about thing I’d like done to me. I also have an amazing partner that I love, trust and really like having sex with. When you consider all of that and the fact that I’m a pretty chatty, expressive person – you’d think I’d be the dirtiest talkin’ gal in town. Instead, it’s a struggle.

I read a lot of erotic fiction. I’m often inspired to create my own stories, but when I sit down to do it, I find it’s a long, fairly uncomfortable process. I have no compunction about baring most of my body to hundreds of people during a burlesque performance Reading an authentically erotic poem for an audience of fifteen makes sweaty and tense. Even when it comes to The Man of Mans – my partner of seventeen years, I find it much easier to express my sexual desires during a matter-of-fact discussion at dinner than I do when we’re hot, heavy and in the moment.

Words. Words make it real. Words bring what is barely perceptible into sharp focus. Words turn formless lust into an acute awareness of exactly where and how I want to touch and be touched. And there is a place deep inside of me where that knowledge feels exciting and good. But piled on top of that is a bunch of vulnerability, insecurity and maybe even a little guilt.

I’m a pretty big proponent of communication in general and sexual communication specifically. My reluctance to get dirty with my words makes it hard to put my money where my mouth is. What’s that all about? I have some theories.  The past few years of my life have been filled lots of sex-positive learning. It’s changed a lot of how I think about sex. However, I’m also part of a culture that perceives of sexual pleasure as inherently sordid, dangerous, offensive and taboo. Logically, I’ve largely dismissed that characterization. But my emotions are still under the influence of deeply ingrained sex-negative ideology. I’m fine with the knowledge that I want to put my tongue there. I haven’t been able to shut out that pesky voice telling me nice people don’t say it out loud.

Despite my awkward embarrassment, I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to push past those feelings and get comfortable talking erotic. And writing erotic.  First, because the very idea of that tongue thing is pretty hot and there’s nothing wrong with saying so. Second, because the more explicit I am about the kind of sex I want, the more likely I am to get it. And lastly, because I think being okay with down and dirty communication is key piece in building consent culture.

Discussions around sexual consent often lead to a few common concerns. One is that is ensuring a partner’s consent means a bunch of super-formal negotiations where all parties sit down and to outline the all details of the sexual encounter. Another worry is the ensuring ongoing consent.  Naysayers sometime conjure a scenario where people have to stop the action every couple of minutes to ask , “Can I put my hand there? About there? What about there? How about there?” It’s an unappealing prospect for some people. I’m one of them.

But consent doesn’t have to be either of those options. You don’t have to sit primly on the couch and ask “May I please put your penis my mouth?” You don’t have to stop in the middle of fucking to say, “Sorry, I know we didn’t talk about it before but I was wondering if I could penetrate your anus digitally.” I mean, you can if you want to. But you can also lean in and whisper, “I would love it if you let me suck your cock.”*  You can be skin to skin and all over each other when you ask, “How about a finger in your ass?”**  Consent isn’t about ruining the fun. It’s about communicating. It seems like talking specifically and explicitly about the sex we do want to be having is a good way to avoid making people have sex they don’t want.

Unfortunately, there seems to be a pervasive notion that the ideal way to hook up is with languid body language, coy looks and a host of other non-verbal tactics. Asking for sex outright is often labelled crass and kind of pervy. So, it’s not entirely surprising to me that some people see explicit consent as the antithesis of hot sex. We aren’t exposed to a lot of dirty word-slinging and when we are, it’s rarely presented as a positive thing. I want it to be a positive thing. Emotionally, it may make me twitch. Logically, I think it’s a key part of a safer, hotter, healthier sex.

I’m not much for New Year’s resolutions, but I think 2013 will be the year that I challenge myself to move beyond expressing my thoughts on sex. It’s time to get comfortable expressing my sexual feelings. Bring on the dirty talk!

*I got all flushed when I wrote this.
** And this.

 

 

Now that I’ve been in the sex-educatin’ game for a few years, I’ve noticed a few common misunderstandings and myths about what our bodies do when we’re getting it on. I chose the following five, not only because I hear them repeatedly but because I used to believe them myself.  I’m not sure where some of these ideas started, but I’m fairly certain Cosmo had something to do with it.

When in doubt, blame Cosmo.

1. The G-spot is the holy grail of sexual satisfaction with guaranteed orgasms and female ejaculation.

G-spot stimulation can be an intensely pleasurable experience for some people. Others may find it uncomfortable, overstimulating, painful. A lot of G-spots respond differently at different times. And while most G-spots do get juicy when aroused, that porn-style vaginal squirting is a relatively rare occurence.

2. Having regular bum sex – especially with big people or sex toys – will stretch out your sphincters. You’ll wind up in adult diapers.

Contrary to popular belief, anal penetration with larger body parts or toys does not stretch you out. As long as you’re doing what’s safe and comfortable for your body, there’s some evidence to indicate that having regular bum sex is actually beneficial to anal health.

3. Multiple orgasms are better than a single orgasm. Being able to give and/or experience multiple orgasm means you’re better at sex.

First, I have yet to find a definitive explanation of what constitutes a multiple orgasm. Also, trying to force a lots of orgasms when you were perfectly satisfied with one – or even none – is rarely a gratifying experience.

4. My sexual partner masturbates. I must not be satisfying them.

A lot of people find that masturbation and partnered sex feel very different. Even partners with white-hot sex lives have a hankerin’ for some self-satisfaction every now and again.

5. If we have sex when my partner is having their period, they can’t get pregnant.

It’s less likely, but still possible for a person to conceive if they have intercourse having their period. The timing of a person’s menstrual cycle can change without warning. There’s always a chance they may ovulate within a couple days of the previous cycle’s period. If sperm from a recent sexual encounter are still present…welcome to Zygote- town!

 

Dear Santa Claus,

Whassup? Merry Christmas, seasons greetings, holiday cheer and all that rad stuff!

This past Saturday some cool peeps at the Adult Fun Superstore invited a group of local bloggers to check out their wares at an in-store Pandora Party.

I used to host similar workshops back in my sex store days, but I haven’t been to one in years so I was keen to see what’s new in the wonderful world of adult toyland.

 

Props to your sexy elves, Santa! There are quite a few items that have made my wishlist. Yes, I am a grown woman. Putting gift requests through your office at my age is unorthodox, to be sure. But The MoMs and I are instating holiday austerity measures in anticipation of some costly plans in the new year. That leaves you and my mom as gifting sources. I think we can both agree that you are by far the more appropriate option.

I think I’ve been pretty nice this year so here, for you consideration, is my naughty Christmas wish list.

 

1. Dickalicious Penis Arousal Gel

Saying the word “dickalicious” elevates my mood by at least 17%. As a person living with clinical depression, I cannot ignore the profound effect this product might have on my quality of life.

Also? I licked it and it is super-yum.

2. Dreamworlds Steelworks Plug

 

This is some beautiful, blinged out backside hardware. I’ve been wanting to experiment with accessories. Every moment in life – including anal -is an opportunity for style!

3. Lelo Luna Beads

 

Fact: I love me some Lelo toys

Fact: I love me some vaginal balls

Fact: If you bring these for me, Santa, I will be full of Christmas cheer, all year long!

4. Sportsheet Spreader Bar

Truthfully, I’d never considered playing with one but the moment I saw this, I desperately wanted it. The neoprene cuffs are so comfy! It doesn’t take a Freudian to understand why the thought of a hard steel rod between my legs is exciting.

So, in conclusion…

Please can I have a spreader bar? Please can I have a spreader bar? Please, please, please, pretty please, please please, PLEASE?

Yours sincerely,

Nadine

 

 

 

Image by Tim Geers

Number 11 of my 40 Before 40 is: Write a book.

Shelley Taylor is, amongst other things, a champion of sex-positivity, the founder of Venus Envy and an all-around superb human being. She’s also the creator of Pass The Herpes, an awesome blog that discourages stigma by encouraging people who live with genital herpes to share their stories.

Shelley asked me to participate in a blog hop.  It’s similar to a chain letter, except instead of correspondence, each blogger answers a series of questions about their book. Vain woman that I am, I lept at the chance to write an entirely self-focused entry about my book. Then I remembered that I haven’t written a book…unless you count my  NaNoWriMo endeavour from 2005, which you absolutely should not because it’s utterly dreadful.

So, no book yet; however it is on my list of things to do before I hit the big 4-0. So consider these answers a preview of my future literary endeavours.

What is the work­ing title of your next book?

The Talk: How to speak to kids about sex and what to say.

How did the idea come about for this book?

A few months ago, I found myself on the periphery of some controversy about a local museum exhibit designed to teach youth about sexuality. I thought it was fantastic presentation. Critics of the exhibit feared it was too explicit. Time and again, I was confronted by the argument that kids should learn about sex from their parents, not from a public institution. I disagree that sexuality and sexual health should be exempt from public education spaces. However, I total support the ideal that parents, guardians, grandparents, aunts, uncles and other caring family members can be an integral part of a young person’s sex education.

Unfortunately, most caring, conscientious parent-types don’t have easy access to comprehensive information about sex. Even basic stuff, like using lube or dentals dams as part of safer sex practices are things I only learn about through my work. People can’t and  shouldn’t have to become professional educators to access to the information their kids need. I thought to myself, “Self, what can you do to change this?”

My answer?  Start by offering advice on how to talk to youth about sex but follow up by giving them all the accurate knowledge to share.

What genre does your book fall under?

Sexual Health. Or Sexuality Education. Or Nadine Is Determined Not To Be The Only Parent Whose Kid Who Yells “Ovaries” In Public.

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

A movie version of a non-fiction book about sex? Balls-out awesome!

LeVar Burton because he would bring the ‘Reading Rainbow’-style, educator cred. My friends Kate and Natalie Joy who are both fantastic actors and fantastic parents. And finally, Sir Ian McKellen because then the Oscar nomination’s in the bag.

The one sentence rendition of your book

Teach yourself how to teach your kids about sex.

Will the book be self-published or represented by an agency?

Since we’re dealing in hypotheticals, let’s assume I’ll get picked up by a big-time publisher. Let’s also assume they’ll give me a big, fat advance which I will use to secure my retirement and to buy Fluevogs.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

It took me a few days to solidify the concept for the first manuscript. I suspect writing it might take a little longer.

What other books would you com­pare this to within your genre?

That’s the thing. I haven’t come across any other books quite like this in the genre. There are books that give advice on how parents can talk to their kids about sex but I haven’t found any that also include a lot of factual information.

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

Every moment during a class or training module or workshop that made me think, ‘Wow. I wish I’d learned this when I was twelve.’

What else might pique the reader’s interest about your book.

Sexually transmitted infections are fascinating – fascinating, I tell you!  My book will include a comprehensive chart listing all the STI’s, their symptoms, their effects and known treatments. It will also include some sort of fancy-pants legend. It’s seriously going to blow your mind!

Now hop along to:

Danielle Writes 642 Things

My dear friend Danielle wears many hats. She’s an author, a poet, a mother, a partner and a stand up comic. She was a fixture in Ottawa’s spoken word community until life whisked her away to Seattle. Settling into a new home while raising two young children and nuturing one’s artistic career would be more than enough to keep most people busy. But Danielle is not most people ( I suspect she has secret powers). Inspired by the book 642 Things To Write About, Danielle has made it her mission to write 642 things in 642 days.  If you want a glimpse into the extraordinary mind of a woman living an extraordinary life, check out Danielle and her blog – immediately, if not sooner!

 

 

 

 

Kegel exercises strengthen the pubococcygeal or PC muscles. They’re commonly recommended for those wanting to retain or regain vagina strength and tone. But did you know that Kegels are good for the penis as well? Add a few pelvic reps to your workout routine and you may experience longer, more powerful ejaculations. Kegel exercises can also be an effective treatment for erectile dysfunction and premature ejaculation.

So remember, peeps – no matter what kind of bits you have – get some exercise!

Steel cock rings

A cock ring is a ring…that fits around the cock. Apparently the person who named it favoured the obvious.

More specifically a cock ring is a snug band worn around the base of the penis (and sometimes the testicles as well). They work by blocking the flow of blood out of the penis, which can create longer, more tumescent erections. The “rings” are made from a variety of materials and may be ring shaped, but may also be oblong, tear dropped or have interesting adornments to make your package all fancy pants.

Rope-style ring

I’m a gal who very much enjoys the aesthetics of dick au naturel; however, I dig the cock ring for it’s simple functional brilliance. D Erections occur when blood flows in through vessels deep inside the shaft of the penis. Conversely, when the penis returns to flaccid state when blood leaves through vessels near the surface of the skin. A cock ring puts pressure on those external blood vessels, while the ones deep inside remain wide open. Blood comes in, but it can’t get out. And that puts the “hard” in hard-on.

Some people are old pros when it comes to using cock rings. But if you’re trying one for the first time, here are a few things to consider:

  • If you put a cock ring around your flaccid penis, make sure the fit is snug but not tight. A tight fit on a soft cock will get significantly tighter when you’re hard. This is especially important if you’re using something like a metal ring, which can’t be removed easily once you’ve got an erection. If you’re unsure, better to wait and decorate the general with they’re standing at full attention.
  • Adjustable rings are a great option for beginners and pros alike. There are many options in flexible materials such as leather, silicone, nylon cord, jelly vinyl and rubber that allow you to customize the fit and easily adjust or remove the ring if the fit isn’t right.

Leather cock ring with snaps

  • Be sure to remove the ring after 20 minutes or so, so you risk any blood vessel damage.
  • Do you know that there are cock rings that come with a small vibrator attached? Bonus good time feelings and you can share them with a partner!

Vibrating jelly vinyl cock ring

On its own, the penis is a pretty cool phenomenon. But increased pleasure through the penile power of hydraulics? If you like it, why not put a ring on it?