Jean Paul Gaultier ‘Le Male’; I hate you. Simply knowing you existence makes me want to vomit, but actually smelling you, having your scent waft past me, in the most innocent of locations, in an entirely different place, time, and context… makes me want to perform a lobotomy on myself.
It makes me want to choke, to scream, to cry, to crumple.
When I was in a relationship with my abuser, the scent of Le Male was intoxicating. It made me want to swoon, and do all the good things described in romance novels. The scent was him, the scent was our relationship, the scent was that time in my life – a time I thought was so exciting – a time where I felt sexy, and wanted, needed. Continue reading
Found this great little video after writing my last blog post, explains consent in a way kids can understand.
To say this past weekend was an eye-opener would be putting it mildly.
In the words of Ricky Baker…
(those of you who’ve seen Hunt for the Wilderpeople will get the reference)
Friday night was the Halloween disco at school. The kids were all super excited about it and were more than happy with their ‘oh fuck we have no money, here wear strips of bed sheet you little mummy you, and here, have some smudgey dirty looking make up and horizontal stripes of masking tape around your top and pants, you little escaped convict you’ costumes.
A boy asked G to go with her. She was pretty excited and nervous. It was equal parts cute and equal parts scary. I know the boy, I like him, and his dad is a cop… I also knew they’d get to the disco and probably stand on opposite sides of the room all night. Continue reading
I have come to realise it’s not the questions you know your children will ask you at some point that are the most awkward to answer, it’s the questions that completely blindside you.
What is sex? Easy to answer, right?
What is a period? Another easy answer.
Why does he have a penis, but I have a vagina? Straight forward.
Then your 9-year-old confuses the words ‘autism‘ and ‘orgasm‘ and it all goes to hell. Continue reading
I have been wanting to do a post about rape fantasy for a long time now, but whenever I start the post I find myself staring back at a blank screen, unable to find the words to convey what I want to say… and perhaps subconsciously, a little embarrassed. A year or two ago I read Garden of Desires, written by Emily Dubberley (highly recommend it!) and finally realised that I am not the only woman in the world who finds herself fantasising about rape.
Having been in a sexually abusive relationship in the past – which included rape – the whole idea of a rape fantasy is extremely confusing to me. To begin with I was highly ashamed about my fantasy, why the hell would I want to relive that feeling of having no control and of being taken against my will? More to the point, why would my brain drift to that little place when I was having sex or masturbating, and why did it arouse me so much?
After a lot of research and admittedly a lot of soul searching I came to the realisation that for me (and it seems for most women) rape fantasy isn’t so much about the desire to be raped (I do NOT want to be raped, I want to make that clear!) but more about having control over the situation. I know, the idea of rape = control for the victim sounds crazy, but it makes sense when you think about it. The rape fantasy is happening in your head – ultimately it is you in control of the situation – unlike a real rape when the victim is most certainly not in control. Continue reading
When it comes to sex the focus is generally on the organs and assorted parts associated with it; the penis, the vagina, the clitoris, the anus, the g-spot et al. I happen to think there is one very important erogenous zone that is ignored and perhaps a little taken for granted – the brain.
First of all I say it is taken for granted because the brain really is the reason we can have a sexual response at all due to the fact it’s the control centre of the body. The penis and vagina (and associated parts) get all the glory while the brain is just sitting there, unappreciated and taken for granted. But the brain itself is more than just a control centre – it is a huge erogenous zone, a zone full of often untapped, pleasurable, orgasmic potential.
Being in a long distance relationship for 12 months is possibly why I am so aware of the erogenous potential of the brain. For those 12 months most of the sex we had was via the phone so a big part of what we had to do was talk dirty. We had to verbally make one another horny and help the other to orgasm through use of our voices. We’d tell each other what we would be doing if we were together right that moment, we would make up stories, we would do whatever felt right in the moment, just as we would if we were having ‘real’ sex. Fingers or vibrators were always part of this equation… until this one night. Continue reading
‘When a mummy and daddy love each other very much, they cuddle closely and daddy puts his penis in mummy’s vagina…’
From those very first ‘birds and bees’ talks we are told that sex is essentially a man putting his penis in a woman’s vagina… and that is it. We don’t question whether there is more to it or not and we certainly aren’t told that while, yes, sexual intercourse is the act of a man putting his penis in a woman’s vagina, there is actually far, far more to it; a beautifully broad spectrum if you will.
It wasn’t until my late 20’s that I realised the definition of sex isn’t quite as black and white (or penis in vagina) as I thought it was. It’s not that I was brought up being told ‘sex is a penis in a vagina and nothing else’, it was just something I didn’t question. Somewhere along the line society, as a whole, developed an inherent belief about what constitutes sex. It’s something we giggle about as kids, it’s something we’re curious about as teens, something we may or may not enjoy as adults… yeap, good old penis-in-vagina, ‘he puts his what in my where?’ heterosexual penetrative sexual intercourse.
To that idea, I now say a big fat bitch please! Continue reading
My wife and I are huge book lovers, the word ‘bibliophile’ definitely comes to mind. On top of this, we are also very sex(uality) positive when it comes to parenting, both wanting our four children to grow up with a healthy understanding of sex and sexuality, theirs and in general. Our eldest daughter is 11 now and is going through puberty; she loves reading puberty books, demolishes the damn things, then reads them two, three, four more times… and a month later will get them out from the library again. It got to the point we ended up buying the books for her.
A few months back we were in our regular secondhand bookshop, perusing the shelves full of booky potential. I came across a hardcover book – ‘Questions Kids Ask about Sex: Honest answers for every age’, Melissa R. Cox (ed) – and thought HEY! THAT SOUNDS FUCKING BRILLIANT! I checked inside and saw it was published in 2005 – great – the information would be relatively up to date and would probably be from a modern viewpoint. It was $3.00, I had to get it!
Home we came. Into the bookshelf the book went. Forgotten it was.
For whatever reason, my wife got it out of the bookshelf… the next thing I heard from her was a gasp of dismay.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. She began reading :
Masturbation isn’t inherently physically damaging unless excessive force or instruments are used; however it can be emotionally destructive and even become a substitute for relational intimacy in marriage. Your child should understand that masturbation can become addictive and he can lessen the risk for this addiction by having an honest sex education grounded in the values of abstinence until marriage…. In addition you should strongly encourage him to avoid the use of pornography, drugs, and alcohol if he wishes to avoid the consequences associated with becoming addicted to masturbation. If you’ve discovered (or heard) your child masturbating… remind him of the dangers of pornography; obsessive, all-consuming masturbation; and group masturbation. (pg 147)
I wasn’t sure I had heard right, but she then went on to read another juicy little segment, leaving me with my mouth wide open, looking at her in shock. What the hell? How could such a book be in our house? Only a few weeks ago I posted on this very blog about why women should embrace masturbation, and here this book was, explaining just how evil it is, listing numerous reasons to encourage your child not to masturbate. Continue reading
This post has been sitting in my draft folder for a couple of weeks now, or at least the mostly blank page, bar a couple of little notes. I resisted writing it because if I had done so when I first saved it, it would have been a huge, angry, one-sided rant, mostly fueled by my sensitive nature; I get so damn offended, so damn easily. On top of that I have this huge problem with not feeling good enough, with feeling as though everyone judges me, with feeling as though I don’t fit in.
What was it that sent me into this whirl of anger and… well, pissed-off-ed-ness? Fifty Shades of Grey. That’s what. Continue reading
I was in bed with my wifey this morning and we were discussing what is going to happen next in the WIP I am currently working on. The characters are going to have sex (writing erotica it is a common occurance!) and I mentioned them having a chance to finally have ‘nice slow, undressing each other sex’. My next comment was WE NEVER UNDRESS EACH OTHER! Then I thought about it more and I honestly can’t remember having sex that involved nice slow undressing of one another.
I’m sure it must have happened to a certain extent in the past. Perhaps I had help taking my top off, perhaps I helped him undo his pants… but I don’t remember having an experience like the ones so often portrayed in film and books… Continue reading