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Sexuality

A Personal Sexual Ethic

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The other day, I got thinking about sexual ethics. I decided that it would be an interesting exercise to try and summarize and clarify my own sexual ethics. A lot of what I will say here will be based on the first episode of The Bed and The Blade podcast. My views about sexuality are deeply rooted in my understanding of the everyday sacred, and I feel like this post gives me a chance to expand on what I briefly mentioned as a part of that episode.

I will note that this is my personal sexual ethic as I understand it myself. You will not find any “thou shalt” statements in this post, because I have no desire to prescribe how anyone else should approach their own sexuality. Now, I think many people might find my thoughts here informative and helpful. Otherwise, what would be the point of sharing this post? But at best, I think of this post as indicating my own personal perspective based on my limited experiences and providing another (and there are many out there — some probably of better qualify and deeper research than mine) resource that someone might find helpful to consider as they develop their own personal sexual ethic.

I will also note that I’m working on my personal sexual ethic as a cisgender gay white man, which means it really is limited. There are those whose lives and experiences mean that they will find gaps or dead angles1 in what I write here. If this describes you, you are welcome to borrow only those things I’ve said that work for you and encouraged to fix the rest so it works for you as well. In fact, I’d love to hear from you about any changes you might make. Drop me a comment, maybe?

Defining My Rights

It may seem strange to start a treatise on sexual ethics by defining my own rights. I mean, isn’t ethics normally about responsibility and doing the right thing vs. the wrong thing?

I submit that this is the problem with much of what has passed for sexual ethics over the years: the abandonment and devaluing of self. I maintain that understanding our own value and what we can reasonably expect, hope for, and even demand is foundational and essential to questions of responsibility and treating others right.

I have the right to want or not want sex.

For many of us, sex feels good. Barring coercion (in which case it’s no longer sex) or bad circumstances, it tends to make us feel good. I have a right to want to feel good, to enjoy the pleasure my body and sexual activities with other people gives me. I’m allowed to want to experience that.

On the flip side, I have the right not to want sex either. That can be situational (I don’t want sex right now or with this particular person) or general (I’m just not into sex, end of story). In the end, it’s about understanding my own wants and needs and respecting that. And “keep the sexy times away from me please” is as valid as “bring on the threesomes!”

I have the right to want as much or as little sex as seems right to me.

This is an extension of the last statement. Maybe I’m feeling like a horn-dog and want to have sexy times every night. Maybe I’m good with once per month or less. Again, this is about understanding my own personal wants and needs and honoring them.

I have the right to want to engage in the sexual activities that seem right to me.

If I want to stick to masturbating, that’s okay. If I want to get toys to enhance my solo time, that’s okay too. If I want to engage in “vanilla” sex, that’s okay. If I want to explore spanking, rope play, cupping, needle play, or any of the other kinks out there, that’s okay too. Again, sex is meant to be enjoyable, and engaging in the kinds of activities that I really enjoy without guilt or shame is a gift I give myself.

I have the right to want to have sex with the people who appeal to me.

I’m gay, so for me, I’m really only interested in sexy times with men and and mostly male-presenting people2. But if I also wanted to have sex with women and mostly female-presenting people, that would be my right as well.

This principle also applies to how many people I want to have sex with. Personally, I’m a happy monogamist. I’m happy in my exclusive relationship with Joe. But if that changed, I’d have the right to want to explore polyamory. And before I met Joe, you better believe I had string of partners.

I do feel like this principle needs a caveat, however. There are those who might use this principle to justify racist or transphobic dating preferences. I especially remember all the Grindr profiles who used to say “no blacks” and justify it with “just a preference.” There still comes a point where we need to interrogate our preferences to see whether they’re really just a preference or are rooted in something more sinister. That’s not something I’m going to adequately address in this post — or possibly ever — but I wanted to acknowledge it.

I have the right to decide my own reasons for having sex.

I can want to have sex because I’m hoping it will strengthen the bonds of love and affection between myself and another person. Or I can want to have sex because an orgasm would feel good right about now. Sex can fulfill different needs and even multiple needs at one time. And I get to decide what needs matter in any given situation. Because that’s the other beautiful part: I can engage in sex for different reasons each time.

I have the right to re-evaluate any of the decisions I’ve made and make new choices at any time.

One of the things that the last twenty years have driven home to me is that things change. Needs change. What works for me changes. I need to be empowered to roll with those changes and adjust my approach to sex accordingly. There was a time when casual sex with some guy I met on A4A, Grindr, or Craigslist was a blast for me. Then I got tired of it. (It inspired a short story I wrote years later, actually.)

I think an important thing to note is that my change of heart does not imply that my earlier behavior was wrong or a mistake. It just meant that things had changed for me and it was time to consider a new course of action that better addressed my evolving needs at the time.

Defining My Responsibilities

Now that I’ve defined my rights in terms of sex, it’s time to define my responsibilities. This will mostly be framed in terms of responsibilities toward the people I’m having sex with. If I were to always fly solo, things would be a lot simpler. But not nearly as satisfying in my opinion.

Other people have the same rights that I do.

Everything else I way will tie back into this statement. In fact, I could almost get away with making it the sole bullet point of this part of my sexual ethic. Because this section is essentially about honoring other people’s rights when it comes to sex.

I have a responsibility to honor the rights, wants, and needs of any sexual partners or potential partners.

At it’s heart, this means talking to my partner(s) or potential partner(s) about what they are looking for and what they want, need, and expect from a sexual relationship (even if it’s a one night stand) with me). This also means I need to be open to the possibility that they don’t want a sexual relationship with me at all. Or just don’t want to have sex right now.

At this point, the attentive reader might recall that in the section about my rights, I said I had the right to want sex. I never said i had the right to have sex. This is why. Once I start to seek sex that involves more than myself , having sex becomes contingent on finding willing and interested partners.

I have a responsibility to communicate my wants and needs to any sexual partners and potential partners.

Knowing what I want and need in the realm of sex doesn’t matter if i don’t make the effort to clearly communicate that information to those I’m looking to have sex with. My partner(s) needs to know what I’m into and what I find enjoyable. They need to know about that little thing that I’d like them to do so it will drive me wild.

They also need and deserve to know what I hope to get out of sex with them. Am I hoping this will be part of a romantic relationship? Or is this a casual, one time thing for me? Or am I hoping that we can be friends with benefits with no romantic attachments.

I have a responsibility to be clear on whether I can meet any sexual partner’s or potential partner’s needs.

This is where we get into the heart of any healthy sexual relationship: Communication, negotiation, and respect. If my partners have a certain sexual activity that they feel they absolutely need, but I’m uncomfortable with that activity, I need to be honest about that. Maybe we can find a way to work around it. Or maybe it just means we’re not compatible and we both need to move on.

Similarly, if someone is looking for a long-term romantic relationship and sees having sex with me as a way of building that with me, I need to be honest if I’m not in it for the long haul or simply have no interest in romance. It would be grossly cruel of me to mislead them just so I get my own need for sexual gratification filled in that situation.

I have a responsibility to respect any sexual partner’s or potential partner’s boundaries.

While I’ve been considering my partners needs and whether I can meet them, my partner has hopefully been doing the same thing. Maybe they find my needs incompatible with their own. Maybe I’m into a kink that is a hard limit for them. I need to respect that feedback from them. Again, I have the right to need and want what I need and want. But I don’t have the right to expect any particular person to fulfill that need or want, especially when it’s not something they’re into and are potentially even uncomfortable with.

I have a responsibility to communicate when my needs and wants have changed and be open to the changing needs and wants of any sexual partners.

As I said in the section listing my rights, needs and wants can and often do change over time. That’s not a problem. But when it does happen, I need to communicate that to any partners I have. it may mean that we need to adjust our relationship. Or it may mean we need to end it if it means we’re no longer compatible. That’s potentially heartbreaking, and it’s important to handle it with empathy and understanding.

I also need to be open to my partner experiencing a change in needs and wants. And again, I need to work from a place of empathy and understanding while we figure out how to adjust or end our relationship accordingly. After all, changing needs and wants are not a moral failing. It’s just the occasional fact of life.

Conclusion

In the end, sex can be a wonderful and pleasurable thing and something people can share with each other under many circumstances and in a myriad of ways. Or sex can be an ugly and exploitative thing that leaves people devalued and harmed. By understanding both my rights and my responsibilities, I can increase the chances of the sexual encounters that I pursue to be a positive and enjoyable experience, both for myself and those who join me in those encounters.

Notes:

1 I don’t know who first recommended this term as an alternative to “blind spots.” I first ran across it earlier this week on Twitter and I like it. I’ve heard before how “blind spot” is ableist and should be avoided. Before now, I’ve revised my statements to avoid the term, which tended to be more wordy. It’s nice to have a “drop-in” replacement.

2 This part needs work. A lot of work. To be honest, I don’t have the vocabulary or sufficient understanding of nonbinary people to really provide the nuance this section needs and deserves. I hope this acknowledgement at least softens the sting some enby readers might feel over this failing.

Gender and Sexuality

Think having a huge penis is a huge selling point? It’s not. In fact, it may be the opposite.

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[Content Note: Frank sex talk.]

[Additional Note: Family may want to skip this one, as I’m about to get extremely personal. If you decide to go ahead and read this anyway, I don’t want to hear about it.]

I remember a while back, some guy was trying to entice me to hook up with him. Circumstances indicated that at best, it would be one night stand. The guy indicated he had absolutely no prior experience with another man. I turned him down. He tried to talk me into it. He promised that I would absolutely love sex with him because he “had a cock as long as my arm.” I’ve found that this is a common theme among guys. Many of them assume that because they (allegedly) have a massive penis, that automatically makes them awesome in bed.

It does not. In fact, I’ve found that in many cases — especially in cases where the guy has little or no experience — having a partner who is well-endowed can be a liability.

Let me spell it out for any guys who may be reading with incredulity. The bigger you are, the more likely it is that you could end up hurting me. That means that it’s even more important than it is with average or even slightly smaller guys — and it’s still pretty damn important with those guys — to make sure that I am perfectly relaxed and sufficiently in the mood before anything too serious happens. And that usually requires an attentive, considerate, and usually experience partner. (If not experienced, he at least has to be willing to follow directions and I have to be in the mood to actually guide him through what I normally prefer him to know on his own already.)

So a well-endowed guy who is inexperienced is a pretty unappealing partner, to be frank. (Especially for something that’s only going to be  a one night stand, since saying yes makes a lot of work for me with a very short-term benefit at best.) A well-endowed partner who can’t demonstrate that he knows how to be a good and attentive lover — or worse, demonstrates that he has absolutely no interest in being one — is an immediate hell-no.  And to be frank, if all you can say about your skills as sexual partner is that you have a big dick, you’ve pretty much relayed the fact that you fall into that category of man.

So guys, do yourself and your prospective partners a favor. Quit leading with the fact that you are (allegedly) well endowed. In fact, quit mentioning it at all. Instead, focus on saying and doing things that demonstrate that you are attentive, caring, and invested in making any experience with you mutually pleasurable for the other person, too.

Gender and Sexuality

Follow Up on “Art School Stole My Virginity” story.

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Back in October, I blogged about a Queerty story about art school student Clay Pettet’s scheduled performance art piece.  At the time, the Queerty writer (and the handful of other writers I saw cover the story) presented it as if the performance art would involve Pettet being anally penetrated in front of an audience.  According to a report in Gay Time Magazine by Darrel Larkin, that’s not what the actual performance involved:

We hear Pettet revealed himself to the crowd with “TEEN WHORE” written on his body and a few other performers carrying signs that read “ANAL VIRGIN”. So far we’re scoring 10 out of 10 on the terminology used, all of which Google would happily suggest well over 500,000 results for. Then afterwards he migrated to another dim lit room where randomly selected guests were invited to penetrate his mouth with a banana….

Quite a different experience than what everyone was expecting.  Larkin makes some interesting points about how our expectations of this performance was an underlying point of it.

 

Gender and Sexuality, Politics

I’m not down with media that polices other people’s sexual choices

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[Content Note:  Sex, Policing others’ sexual choices, Homophobia]

While perusing Twitter today, I ran across a link to a Queerty story (linked article includes NSFW image) about a young man who plans on having anal sex for the first time as performance art.  The article describes the planned event thus:

The sweeping act of teenage narcissism deflowering will be tittled “Art School Stole My Virginity” and will feature 19-year-old Pettet and his friend engaging in safe sex until completion.  Afterwards, they will ask the audience what they thought of the performance.  Because who doesn’t like to be critiqued after sex?

No PolicingThat quote is verbatim.  I did nothing to edit it.  The phrase “sweeping act of teenage narcissism” is included in the original article, complete with strikeout font.  Because apparently, the Graham Gremore, the writer, couldn’t help but fill the entire article with signs of his contempt for Pettet’s choices.

And that what my blog post is about.  I have nothing to say about Pettet’s plans, other than to wish him the best and hope that he finds the whole thing rewarding, however he chooses to evaluate what would make the experience rewarding to thim.  Because in the end, I’m pro-choice and fully embrace Pettet’s agency.

It becomes pretty obvious that the writer for Gremore would rather condemn and ridicule Pettet’s choice.  Fankly, I’m not okay with that.  I think this is just more evidence that the LGBT community — or at least certain segments of it — is still all too willing to police the sexuality and sexual choices of others.

Of course, a lot of this plays into the attempt to gain LGBT approval through mainstreaming.  “Oh, we’re not all like those promiscuous [a word which, in my experience, is highly subjective and simply means “has had more sex than the speaker personally approves of”] gay men in bath houses.”  It’s true, of course.  But I’m deeply troubled by the fact that some people are willing to throw gay men who are like that under the bus for the sake of their own increased freedom.  (And to make matters worse, it’s not a very effective strategy.)

I am pro-choice and I believe that everyone’s sexual choices should be respected.  People should be allowed to have as much or as little sex as they want, with who they want (and only with who they want), how they want, and for whatever reason they want (be it love, the need to get off, or performance art).  To me, this idea is central to the equality and freedom of sexual minorities.

And I would like a site like Queerty to be a bit more onboard with and sensitive to that notion by telling Mr. Gremore and anyone else like him to keep their contempt for others sexual choices out of their writing.

Gender and Sexuality

The shocking discovery that women are sexual beings too

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[Content Note:  Sexism, Rape Culture, Objectification of Women]

Don't tell him that some women hit on guys. I fear his head may explode!
Don’t tell him that some women hit on guys. I fear his head may explode!

I didn’t get a chance to write a blog post for today as i was having too much fun celebrating my birthday yesterday.  However, I wanted to spotlight Libby Anne’s post from today.  In it, she discusses a preacher who is pro- modesty movement and who recently wrote an article in the Christian Post in which he discovers that (heterosexual and bisexual) women experience sexual desire when they see men.  I love and fully agree with Libby Anne’s response to this discovery:

He had never considered it.He had never considered it. Twenty years of ministry, twenty years of preaching modest, and he’d never thought about the fact that women are also sexual beings. This alone is illustrative of a huge blind spot in the circles that preach modest, if you ask me.

Of course, experience tells me that this isn’t just a problem with people in the modesty movement.  The idea that women are sexual beings seems to escape the notice of a lot of people, especially a lot of men.  There are too many narratives about men being the sex-seekers and women being the gatekeepers of sex.  Those narratives also tend to ignore the idea that women might actually want and seek out sex rather than try to prevent it.  In many ways, the erasure of women as sexual beings with sexual desire is a key component of treating women as sex objects and the proliferation of rape culture1.

So I’m not entirely surprised that this minister missed the memo that women have pantsfeelings too.  After all, we live in a society that too often ignores a lot of things about women, including the fact that they are fully human and therefore sexual as well.  And it contributes to a lot of problems.

At any rate, be sure to go read the rest of Libby Anne’s post if you haven’t yet.  It’s great.

1As an aside, Libby Anne’s blog is a great resource for exploring how both the modesty and purity movements influence and reinforce the objectification of women and rape culture as well, despite the fact that their stated intent is to uphold the value of women.

Gender and Sexuality, Trans*

Thoughts on “Transgender Basics”

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After the trans* panel discussion on Thursday night, I talked to Kelly, one of the allies who had spoken.  She suggested I watch and blog about a video as a way to promote ongoing discussion.  The video that she suggested I blog about is called “Transgender Basics,” produced by the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Community Center in New York City as part of the Gender Identity Project.  I’m embedding the video here:

There’s a lot that I could and would like to say about this video, and I suspect I may do multiple blog posts about it due to the vast range of thoughts I had and my limited time today.  Part of me is tempted to hold off on this post for a few days so I can work more on it, as this topic deserves a great deal of thought and consideration.  However, my desire to keep my commitment to talking about this today is going to take precedent.  I think it would be way too easy for me to use “working on a better, more considerate post” as an excuse to procrastinate.

I think one of the things that interested me is how the Authentic Gender Model breaks down and separates physical sex, gender roles, and gender identity.[1]  Having done some reading[2] on gender essentialism and the growing body of evidence that most of the traits and roles that we tend to consider inherently gendered is a matter of social conditioning, I’m well aware that physical sex and gender roles can be quite distinct.  The idea of gender identity being a distinct paradigm separate from gender roles, however, is somewhat new to me.  It’s quite possibly the one take-away from this video that I need to think more about.[3]  I hope to get a better understanding of what it means from a trans* person’s perspective when zie says their gender identity is as a man, a woman, or neither.

The other part that I found interesting about the AGM was the fact that it presents even physical sex as a spectrum.  Before this video, I had never considered that there’s more to physiological sex than which genitals someone has.  The video rightfully points out that even in terms physiology, sex is much more complex than the simple binary we tend to make it out to be.  To me, this strengthens the already strong argument that our understanding of gender needs to be even more complex when we start to move beyond physiology and think about roles and identity.

My first take-away from this video is an even bigger understanding of just how nuanced and complex gender actually is, and that being trans* is first and foremost about recognizing that complexity and rejecting society’s attempt to force one to fit into the simplest and most inaccurate model in favor of embracing the far more complex and unique reality for oneself.

One of the things that I noticed about both the panelists from Thursday night and the trans* people who spoke in this video is that they are unique, authentic, and compelling people who are seeking to live authentic lives.  As one of the speakers in the video says, she desires people to avoid reducing her to a transwoman and see the incredible person[4] that she is overall.  I hope and trust that by allowing her and other trans* people the freedom to express their gender identity authentically, we enable them to show what incredibly unique and and complex individuals they are in other ways as well.

What are some of your thoughts on the video?

Notes:
[1] I’m intentionally leaving out the fourth component of the model, sexual orientation, for this initial post to focus on the first three.  There will be time enough to talk about sexual orientaten and how it relates to gender later.

[2]  Thank you for guiding me down that path, feminists.

[3]  I’m also hoping that the resources at the Gender Identity Project site will provide me with deeper insight.

[4]  I’m hesitant about saying “person” here rather than “woman.”  On the one hand, I want to stress that her identity includes far more than her gender identity and that she’s incredible for more reasons than just her gender identity.  On the other hand, I don’t want to deny or ignore that identity either.  Her gender identity may not define all of who she is, but it is an integral part of who she is, and I don’t want to deny or invisibilize that part of her, either.

Gender and Sexuality

Exploring Sexual Ethics: Personal History

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Quite a few days ago, I got into a discussion about sexual ethics and how people respond to others who have a different (mostly more permissive) sexual ethic than their own.  As the conversation continued, I’ve considered how my personal sexual ethic has changed over the past year.

Prior to March 2010, my personal sexual ethic was still more or less what it was like when I was a Christian.  While I felt other people should be free to come to their own conclusions about what was appropriate for their own lives – provided their choices treated others with the dignity and respect that they deserve – the best course for me was to continue to seek a life-long partner and enter into a monogamous relationship with him.

In retrospect, this did cause me to act rashly and rush taking a few of my romantic relationships to a more sexually intimate level more than may have been prudent.  I quickly convinced myself that I was experiencing “true love” so that I could acknowledge and consummate that bond through sex.  And then everything would crash and burn, and I would feel miserable, get depressed, and kick myself for being such a fool.

After a particularly abysmal failure at love and a relationship in early 2010, I decided that I was tired of that pattern.  I decided that I was even tired of looking for “true love” and a life-long partner.  I decided that I wanted to have short-term fun.  In short, I wanted to have sex for the sake of having sex.  And I spent a few months doing exactly that.  I looked for friends with benefits.  I looked for fuck-buddies.  I even looked for one-time hookups.  I had sex and I enjoyed it.  I found that I really could enjoy having sex with another man without first having some sort of emotional bond.  And in many ways, it took a lot of pressure on me to find Mr. Right.  I was able to relax rather than worrying about being single quite so much.

Of course, it wasn’t all roses either.  More than once, I found that I eventually developed those emotional attachments anyway.  I remember in one case, I was quite devastated when one of the guys I saw a few times suddenly quit showing any interest in me and even quit talking to me.  I was terribly upset about this, despite the fact that our arrangement was supposed to be no strings attached.

And of course, there was the incident where I caught an STD, despite the fact that I was  extremely careful.  I was fortunate that it was treatable/curable.  The experience was traumatic, but not the end of the world.  And then there was the incident when, despite the fact that I was being careful about such things, one of my partners managed to steal from me.  Being taken advantage of like that left me feeling quite betrayed, and I remember spending over an hour crying and blathering to a very dear friend.

I can honestly say that despite the bad experiences I had, I don’t regret anything that I did during that time.  I learned a lot about myself in the process, I ended up making a couple good friends, and I had a lot of great times too, far more than the bad times in fact.

All that being said, though, I can honestly say that I’m happy to put those adventures behind me.  While I feel like I needed to give myself that chance to explore and play and heal from my past experiences, I think I’m ready to think in terms of long-term relationships again.  After all, in the end, I personally will be happiest when I’m with that special someone I can share every part of my life and body with.

That’s not to say I’ll never explore a more casual experience again, mind you.  Truth be told, if I ever reach a point where I feel I absolutely need to have sex – after all, there are just some things about sex that cannot be reproduced or satisfied through manual or mechanical stimulation – I might give myself permission to do so.  I think it’s far healthier than trying to rush around, find Mr. Right, and push myself prematurely into a relationship that’s not going to work out.  (In some respects, I think it’s also more respectful towards the other person and more ethical.)  And so long as I’m honest with the other guy and treat him respectfully, I see no problem with that.

That’s the thing I learned from the whole experience, I think:  it’s all a question of what someone needs at the time.  Different people have different needs.  Sometimes, the same person has different needs at different points in their life.  As long as the person is honest with themselves about what those needs really are, is honest with any partners and is clear about what they are willing to give in return for those needs, I think there is a lot of flexibility in what behavior is acceptable.