Part 3 of 8
(…a continued reflection on Datable by Jessica Slice and Caroline Cupp)
Let’s be real: sex education in the United States is a joke. Even when it does exist, rarely does it cover anything outside of nondisabled, cisgender, straight sex and biology. So, just like our nondisabled peers, we disabled daters have often unconsciously turned to popular media for guidance. Unfortunately, there are extremely few examples available to anyone outside of the white, cishet, thin, male pleasure-focused, penetrative sexual ideal.
Yet, as Slice and Cupp claim, “the right to sexual pleasure and sexual autonomy is, in fact, a civil rights issue. We deserve what scholars and activists call ‘sexual citizenship.’ Disabled people have the right to learn about our bodies and explore our sexuality. We deserve access to information and independence” (p. 83). Arguably, we all do.
However, without even imperfect examples to draw upon, disabled people “expect our bodies and minds to fit within a narrow window of sexual normativity, and those constraints can limit what we want, with whom we want it, and how often” (p. 80). Without a template with which to work, figuring out what our sexual desire and expression looks and feels like can be overwhelming and confusing.
Slice simplifies the process down to two steps: “Step one: expand what sex means. Step two: try some things!” (p. 88) I know, easier said than done.
Internalized ableism, on its own, can at times feel insurmountable. As one person they interviewed admitted, “she loved having a partner who did not publicly identify as disabled. She felt like it offered proof of her worthiness and reinforced her social posts about disabled people being sexually desirable,” and that “while she publicly shares messages about disabled worth, internally, she worried she would never find someone else.” (p. 104).
This is all the more complicated by the reality that disabled people are exponentially more likely to be sexually assaulted in their lifetime compared to their nondisabled peers. And even those who have escaped these assaults, they have usually “felt disempowered in medical settings and may have body-related trauma. Often the only available solution in traumatic medical situations is dissociation” (p. 89).
Trauma aside, we are all facing endless heteronormative notions of what sex includes, which is one reason why disabled people seem to be drawn to kink. After all, “kink requires a beginner’s mind” (p. 91). (Good) kink is centered around curiosity, imagination, and consent. These are all required ingredients for disabled sex. I agree with Slice in the notion that “all sex, for every person, should be bespoke” (p. 95), kink or otherwise.
Leave a Reply