Sep 132016
 

A graphic of a projection screen with a pie chart.

Projection Screen With Pie Chart

We’re all normal.

let me repeat that, we’re all normal.

Our bodies are normal.

Our relationships are normal.

Our sexual desires are normal.

Our sex lives are normal.

Note: This only applies if you don’t use sex as a weapon. If you do,stop…just stop.

*

Emily Nagoski is the Wellness Education Director at Smith College. During her keynote at this year’s Guelph Sexuality Conference, she shared one of her most life-changing moments teaching college students about sexuality. When she asked her students, on the end-of-year exam, so, you know, they had to answer – what one thing they learned from the course, the answers were, overwhelmingly, some flavour of “I learned that I’m normal.”

When we (and I mean we of any age, not just young people) talk to our friends, or read sexy novels, or watch movies, we see and hear conversations about sex that often just don’t resonate. We get the message, from those books and movies, that there’s one kind of sexy, and we’re not it. We worry, when we talk to friends, or see their bodies, if our desires aren’t like theirs, or our bodies don’t look like theirs. This reminds me of when I went to Cara Liebowitz’s workshop on asexuality at the Breaking silences conference and she shared how strange and isolating it felt to hear college friends talk about feeling horny, to hear the trope that all young people want sex, and to not know, on a gut level, what horny even felt like.

Another example: Most of us aren’t too interested in sex when we’re stressed, right?

Right – but most isn’t all. Apparently, studies have shown that 80% to 90% of participants reported trouble getting aroused when they were stressed out. That leaves 10%-20% of participants who got more revved up sexually when the stress piled on. Neither way is “right,” it just is – though I’m guessing it makes for lots of misunderstandings in relationships.

*

Emily wants to help people understand their own sexualities, and figure out what kind of sex (if any) they want by looking at what the science has to say.

If you’re a sex nerd like me – or, just a nerd – this is super exciting. I was on the edge of my seat, frantically taking notes, the whole time Emily was talking.

That said: Relying on the science does have limitations. As Emily pointed out, science still classifies people as either male or female, depending mostly on what they have between their legs. Yeah, there are other ways to measure that, but most of us haven’t had our chromosomes tested. And, even if we did, maleness and femaleness aren’t so clear-cut as all that. Sex and gender are way, way more complicated.

What Emily didn’t mention in her lecture was that there are other unknowns when we’re looking to science to tell us just what the heck’s going on with our sexualities and sex lives.

We’re limited by who gets researched: Is it mostly college students? Mostly nondisabled folks? Mostly people from one cultural background or another? Mostly people who are evaluated as being in “good health?”

How we experience life affects how our sexualities develop. it affects how we relate to our bodies, to other people, to the world around us. Our personal histories can affect how our bodies react, and how we react to our bodies

My biggest take-away from all the scientific research is that the results give us new ways of looking at the world, new ways of thinking about sexuality, and new ways of -possibly – understanding our own bodies.

*

The research also clears up, once and for all, a misconception that’s been around far too long!

When you’re having sex with someone, listen to what they’re telling you, not whether they’re hard, or wet, or panting, or flushed, or….

The way someone’s body reacts, doesn’t tell you whether they want to be having this sex. It’s called arousal nonconcordance and while the studies show that it happens more to participants who were categorized as women – in other words, people with vulvas and vaginas – this can happen with any person, at any time, for any reason. Yes, even people in long-term relationships can have their bodies act like they want sex, when they couldn’t be less into it. Wanting sex one day doesn’t mean wanting it the next, even if all the physical arousal signs are there.

It doesn’t help that wanting sex is usually talked about in terms of how fast someone got wet, or the fact that their penis was hard. I don’t know about you, but most novels I read take us from casual flirting to full-on arousal (and, implied, full on interest) in less than thirty seconds.

Emily read us a passage from Fifty Shades of Grey (first time i’d read any of it, and I doubt I’ll be reding more). Christian is spanking Ana, and remarks on how much he “knows” she likes it because he sees her wetness. Meanwhile, Ana’s thoughts are all about how much she doesn’t like it, and wondering why she’s doing this, and justifying to herself why this is okay.

Nope, Ana is not aroused, or having fun!

The worst part of judging whether someone wants sex by what their body is doing, rather than on what they’re telling you is when that person’s “no” or “slow down” or “I don’t want this” isn’t listened to. A friend told me recently about a mutual acquaintance who was trying to make out with her. He stopped when she asked him to, but he couldn’t resist observing that her nipple had gotten hard, as if that was some kind of hard evidence (no pun intended – really!) that she enjoyed the contact even if she said she didn’t want it.

Then there are the people who don’t stop. It’s way too common (and makes my stomach turn! – No, scratch that: Fills me with rage!) that sexual abusers will insist that their victims must have liked it, because they got wet, or had an orgasm, or moved their hips, or whatever lie seems to fit best and work to manipulate or discredit the “I didn’t ask for or agree to that.” Little do they know: Science is not on their side.

If the mind is saying no, we listen to that, however someone communicates that to us. period.

Here’s a Youtube video on arousal nonconcordance (fully captioned).

*

The second most pivotal thing I learnd was this:
Scientifically, sex is not a drive; we don’t need sex to survive, the way we need food, or water, or sleep, or enough sodium (salt).

No one ever died or got injured for lack of sex.

So, what we call a “sex drive,” that feeling that makes us want to get our sexy on? That’s actually called a sexual incentive motivation system. That doesn’t roll off the tongue so well, but there you have it. It’s totally fine if we want to keep calling it a drive, as long as we understand the differences.

A drive is for something we need to have to survive – like I said above: water, sleep, food, certain minerals from food.

An incentive motivation system is an external thing, external attraction, that pulls you into it and compels you to explore. Think of it like being intensely curious about something where you start reading everything you can on it, talking about it all the time, living it day in and day out, versus being dry-throated, fuzzy-mouthed “dying of thirst” thirsty.

According to Emily, when we say we have a high sex drive, we’re basically saying that we have a high curiosity for sex, a strong pull to explore sex or feel sexual sensations.

I have this in my notes, which I really love: Your partner, or a sexual act, is a source of wonder, exploration, curiosity – hot curiosity.

Takeaways:

  • We do not need sex to survive.
  • Sexual frustration will not kill you.

Sexual frustration will not kill you.

I repeat: sexual frustration, lack of sex, unsatisfying sex, not having a sexual partner – won’t kill you. It won’t even make you sick.

*

The title of this presentation was “Pleasure is the Measure.”

when we shed the things we think we’re supposed to do, or feel, or think, about sexuality, we’re left with what we want.

It doesn’t matter who you have sex with, or how, or why, or where (as long as you’re obeying local laws), or even if you’re having sex at all.

What matters is that it’s what you want to be doing.

It’s not just sexytimes and orgasms that make the plesure happen; it’s feeling safe, happy, secure, not doing things you don’t want to do, knowing what you do want to do.

Further Reading

Come As You Are

The dirty Normal

A sexually accurate romance novel “How Not To Fall”

Feb 052016
 

Of the five sex toy stores I’ve personally visited over the past 15 years, only one had a flat entrance.

Of those five, only three had employees who didn’t respond to me as a visibly disabled person with obvious anxiety, and, in one case, hostility.

Sex toys – It’s one of the first things people think about when they think sex and disability – if, of course, they’ve managed to get past the “OMG disabled people? Sex? I think I have the vapours!”

For people who follow online media, anyway, the idea of people with disabbilities being sexual creatures is getting more familiar, and sex toys tend to feature in those narratives.

For example:

There’s a great reason for this. Toys can make sex play more physically pleasurable for people who have spinal cord injuries or other reasons for genital nerve damage. Or, they can help a person who has chronic pain, or limited mobility (or both) reach their butt. Or, they can help partners do the sexual thinggs they desire but that their bodies won’t allow. Or…the list has no end.

How do folks with disabilities get their hands on sex toys in the first place? Generally, the way anyone else does: stores, online, or cobbling something together from the kitchen drawer or bathroom cabinet. ON the surface, it’s easy-peasy. Another But, a lot of stores still aren’t physically accessible to folks with mobility impairments, with steps at the entrance or inside, no automatic doors, narrow aisles, and more. Some stores don’t keep sample versions of each product on the shelf for people to handle. At the stores where they do have all sample products out for customers, you can literally glance at, or hold, or sniff dozens of dildos (or anything else you’re looking at) to get an up-close-and-personal sense for which one is most likely to work for you.

As with anything, you’ll really need to try the thing before you know for sure if you’ll like it, and you’re not allowed to do that until you pay up!

Having this large display of products right there can improve everyone’s shopping experience, but it’s virtually vital for folks who can’t see to get a sense of the depth and breadth (no puns intended here) of what’s out there. It’s also pretty crucial for folks who need to be able to tell if their hands, let alone any other body parts, can use the toys.

Shopping at sex toy stores is unlike most other shopping experiences.

It’s fun. It’s sexy. It can be scary as hell or as normal as going to the drugstore to buy toothpaste. A trip to a sex toy store, for some, is the ultimate “OMG that changed my life” experience,; for others it can be a “Bletch! never again!” story their best friends tease them about forever.

But shopping for anything can be a big deal for people with disabilities – whether it’s being able to get to the store (or use the store’s Web site without cursing technology and punching the computer), or physically accessing all aisles and shelves, or receiving customer service that’s respectful and helpful, receiving customer service at all (I.E. not being passed over in favour of the person in line behind you), or even being able, with a significantly lower likelihood of being employed and having disposable income, to afford what’s being offered.

The rest of this post will look at how beliefs about and attitudes towards disability can make or break a shopping experience, and why that’s even more of a big deal when we’re talking sex toy shopping.

My own first sex toy shopping experience went something like this:

Me: “I’m looking for a G-spot vibrator.”

Shop Owner: Opens clear plastic box and places toy in my hands. “here’s one. It’s only $34.99. Here’s the button to turn it on. How are you going to be able to put the batteries in?”

Me: Touching the slender hard-plastic cyllinder with a curved end that looked better for fishing (minus the sharp edges) than for rubbing delicate tissue: “Does this actually feel good?” (What I wanted to say: It feels too hard.)

Store-Owner: “Here, let me show you how to put the batteries in. You unscrew this part–”

Me: “I’m not sure it’ll feel…?” (Silently: “Yes, I think I can figure out how to put the batteries in. Not really worried about that right now.”)

Store-owner: “Oh. You just have to experiment and find what feels good for your body.”

Me:”Umm, sure. I’ll guess I’ll try it… That’s all you have for G-spotting?”

store-Owner: “This one will be the easiest for you to put the batteries in.”

Me: “Okay, I guess I’ll try it.”

A minute later I’d payed my money and left, plastic bag full of toy in hand.

Was this just one of those store-owners who wasn’t interested in spending time with customers?

No. When we weren’t talking about batteries, she mentioned that she’d just spent an hour helping a guy pick out a toy for his wife. I’m guessing the guy didn’t have a physical disability. He sure didn’t use a wheelchair; that was one of the stores with steps.

My experience hardly counts as discrimination, but there’s a reason it’s stuck with me.

I walked into that store expecting to be treated like a customer, shown options, given space and time and information to make my decision. I wouldn’t particularly have minded being shown how the battery compartment worked, but in a more “oh, by the way” manner as part of giving me information about the toy. The store-owner expected that I was a blind person. Whatever a blind person meant to her, it wasn’t someone who comes to buy toys.

My needs as a sex toy customer weren’t any different from any other customer’s needs. The store-owner needed me to not be different from any of the other people she expected to walk into her store and buy stuff so she could pay her bills.

My needs were to have a sex toy shop employee or owner stay calm and professional at a time when, no matter how enlightened I was about sex toys, I needed their help and was feeling nervous, anxious, and like I wasn’t quite supposed to be doing what I was doing or spending my money on “frivolous” things. The store-owner’s needs were – well – to deal with this anxiety-producing situation of being faced with a blind customer as quickly as possible.

I’ve learned from friends and acquaintances who’ve run or worked in sex toy stores that how to support customers is a big part of their work. They want customers to feel welcome, but not crowded, supported, but not intruded on, cared for, but not too much.

They know that people who come into their store could be having any number of sexual insecurities, relationship problems, body image issues, and more. They know that sometimes their potential customers come in looking for answers without even knowing what the questions are.

Your standard retail experience, where you usually expect that a salesperson will greet you, cheerily ask if you need help, and check in with you every 4 minutes, might feel downright terrifying to some folks trying to buy a sex toy, or porn, or a bondage kit, or a bottle of lube. Most of us have been taught to feel such shame around sex in general, and especially our own sexualities, that too much input or friendly chit-chat could feel really invasive or scary. (Note: This doesn’t apply to everyone. For some people, that kind of friendly connection puts them at ease, but they need to be the ones who initiate it.)

but, for a blind person, who may or will need help – depending on how much usable vision they have, E.G. Can they read lube bottles, see the pictures on DvD covers, or see where the rainbow-coloured dildos are kept? – how does a sex toy salesperson maintain as much physical or emotional distance as the customer wants while still giving practical help finding items and reading packaging? Or, what if a person in a wheelchair wants to look at a dildo they can’t reach? Asking a sales associate to reach it and hand it to them isn’t necessarily an invitation to talk.

I think what makes customers with disabilities’ experiences in sex toy shops unique is that many sex toy store customers, regardless of ability, bring their own nervousness, fear, anger, or whatever to their shopping experience. Let’s face it — sex and sexuality carry huge emotions attached to them. Most of us have internalized shame around sex and sexuality in one way or another.

Going into a toy shop, especially in a small town, especially if you look different or distinctive, can carry a whole lot of emotions and fearful thoughts with it.

So, the average toy shop customer could be walking through the store with any one of these emotions, or all of them and more all at once! They’re counting on people working their not to judge them.

Disabled customers, in addition to potentially coming in with this emotional bagage, will also often be carrying around the anxiety of “How will I get treated by these strangers, today?” and for some “Will I even be able to get into the store?” That’s a lot of inner chatter and anxiety to be carrying around all the time.

Based on what we know about general attitudes around and knowledge about disability, it’s pretty reasonable to say that When a visibly disabled customer enters a store, some people working their are going to have big, complicated emotions of their own come up. People have huge fears and uncertainties around disability. Folks will often explain their awkward behaviours around visibly disabled people as “not knowing what to do,” or “not wanting to do the wrong thing.” Disability is, I think, still this really unfamiliar thing, at least when it comes to disabled people being out and about, earning and spending money, making sexual choices, window shopping, and just generally not being off in some special space. I’m still working out ways to help nondisabled folks, or folks with limited experiences around a variety of disabilities, understand some of the basics of giving assistance, without turning it into a list of “do”s and “don’t”s that ends up looking a lot like this guide.

A lot of the negative and nervous responses to disability from nondisabled folks come from a place of “OMG, what if that (being disabled) was me” and also from a place of “This person isn’t anything like me; I can’t relate.” The fear most people have around disability is deep and it’s unlikely that that fear isn’t going to afect the interactions of people who feel it with visibly disabled folks.

So, you’ve got a person looking for sex toys or sexually explicit materials, or condoms, or maybe they don’t even know what they’re looking for, and you’ve got a person feeling undone by the physical reminder of disability in front of them. Remember what I said above about hostility? Yes, that happened. No, it wasn’t fun, but that’s a story for another time.

I think the reason that being greeted with hostility in a sex toy store surprised me so much was that, by and large, people who work in sexuality-related fields have been some of the warmest, most respectful, most creative and disability-aware people I’ve ever met. But these have alsso been the people who recognize that both disability and sexuality are mega-giant issues that can undo people’s sense of security. More happily, these are also the people who realize that sex and sexuality can be fun, creative, and playful, and is something everyone has, and can access, if they want.

Oh, and in case you wanted to know: My instincts were spot-on (pun intended, maybe?) about that toy. It didn’t work for my body.

And, the toy store with no steps? Come As You Are, though, sadly, they had to close their doors in 2016.

Aug 032015
 

Can we all agree that asking random people on the street (or in the mall, or anywhere, really) about their sex life is just plain creepy?

People with disabilities are asked, much more often than you’d think, how, or if, we have sex. No, really, this happens all the time. If it’s not about sex directly, it’s something to do with relationship status. Maybe it’s random questions about whether you’re married, or about your dating life. Maybe it’s your server at the fancy restaurant assuming the person you’re sharing a romantic candlelight dinner with is “just” a friend, or worse yet, your brother or payed caregiver.

***

Honey, if they’re with me then they’re not looking for normal — and I don’t mean because I’m crippled. Because sex with me can mean any fetish, any request you’ve always been afraid to make, any position you can think of. Because sex with me can be watching porn together, reading erotica together, or preferably making our own of both…

– Kelsey Warren, My Body

This poem is Kelsey’s answer to the question about her sexual relationship she couldn’t laugh off.

It’s powerful, edgy, and provocative.

As with anything both taboo and sexy, Internet news sources picked this up right away, with headlines like What It’s Like to Have Sex with a person With a Disability.

Kelsey’s sexuality is clearly broad and flexible, and she has the gift of a lovely voice and the art of creating words that grip us and won’t let go.

I know I’ll be going back to this video for inspiration -the sexy kind, not the inspiration porn kind.

But this doesn’t speak to all disabled people’s sexualities – and I doubt Kelsey means it to, since she named her poem My Body – even as it’s the perfect challenge to the idea that disability makes someone not-sexy and incapable of or uninterested in sex, or to the idea that “normal sex” – (whatever that is) – is impossible for disabled folks.

The lives of people with disabilities are so often boiled down to being about our disabilities alone, – usually because nondisabled folks can’t imagine how life with a disability would work – that the idea of grocery shopping, or getting dressed, or having sex with one’s partner become exciting or alien concepts nondisabled people want to learn about the way they’d learn about astronomy or the mating habits of giraffes.

There’s also the assumption that all of these life activities are controlled first and foremost by the disability – that disability changes everything. Newsflash: It doesn’t. We’re just as likely to swoon over cute puppy pictures (or stories for those of us who can’t see the pictures), have ridiculous laugh-fests with friends, or get frustrated over the rising costs of milk. The ways we get dressed – whether it’s how we know what colours we’re wearing or how we put on our underwear or tie our shoes – are just the ways we dress, not anything better, or worse, than dressing the “normal” way – because that way of dressing is normal for us.

***

“I want to learn more about accommodating people with disabilities if I’m going to have sex with them.”

This was one of the answers I got to a question on Twitter asking what people most wanted to learn about sex and disability.

Since it was sex we were talking about, I asked if this wasn’t actually more about pleasure than about accommodation. When I think about accommodation, at least when it’s related to disability, I think of Braille signs on elevator buttons, equal opportunity employment, or buses that announce stops and have wheelchair lifts – not sexual intimacy or X-rated play time.

It turned out this person was concerned about hurting a potential disabled partner if he didn’t understand how their disabled body worked.

Fair enough – but… We don’t know how anyone’s body works until they tell us, until we’ve spent enough time with it to learn what every little sound or wiggle means. It ultimately doesn’t matter what someone’s body does or doesn’t do; no “Sex and Disability 101” Or “Sexual Exploration for Everyone” workshop is going to be able to tell you how to have sex with them.

The fun, and fear, of sexy time with a new partner is the same regardless of ability. The challenges come up when we’re faced with things we’ve never encountered, and sometimes have never heard of.

Knowing something about different disabilities can take some of the mystery of disability out of the equation, and that’s a good thing. The more familiar words and realities like cerebral palsy, hemiplegia, degenerative retinal diseases, PTSD, etc, are, the less unfamiliar they’ll be to people, and the quicker they can get on with their everyday business, including getting it on with a new lover. It’s also a relief to disabled folks when people understand the basics of what we’re telling them, even if it’s as simple as knowing basic human anatomy.

Sure, there are general disability-related differences in romance and sex we can pretty much always assume to be true: A blind man can’t glance across the room and entice an alluring stranger with eye contact. A woman who uses a wheelchair to get around may, depending on the nature of her disability, need help in and out of the chair, with changing positions, with going to the bathroom after sex. A deaf person will likely want to leave the lights on so they can read a lover’s lips, watch body language, or do whatever they need to do to communicate while getting it on.

Understanding disability by studying WebMD and Wikipedia won’t help anyone learn a lovers’ body.

We want answers, and formulas, for sex, and for understanding disabilities, and there just aren’t formulas for understanding either, or both together.

No one’s limbs work the same way, no one’s brain chemicals do the same things, no one person likes exactly the same sexual activities in the same way.

Becoming an encyclopedia of disability and intimacy will only take anyone so far in growing a relationship with a disabled or nondisabled partner or playmate.

I don’t necessarily suggest conducting an interview with someone you want to have sex with – unless question-and-answer sessions light your erotic fire, and theirs – but discussing questions like the ones below can be a good place to start if you’re just not sure what to do with this playmate you find so hot:

  • What feels good to you?>
  • How do we have sex so I don’t hurt you?
  • I want (insert your deepest fantasy, or just what your body craves that day). What do you want?

***

I think the connection we need to keep making between disabled people and sexuality is our right to want sex, to think about sex, to be sexy and express our sexuality – or not to do any of those if we choose not to. For some people that includes the right to have sex, but for others it’s more about the right – and the responsibility – to live in a world that’s so often about sex appeal, and where so many interactions are expected to have sexual overtones.

…unless you’re disabled, in which case you’re assumed to be childlike, uninterested in sex and lacking a sexuality, even unaware of sex; in other words, nonsexual.

We used to describe these attitudes towards disabled people’s sexualities as seeing people with disabilities as “asexual.”

Asexuality is, however, an actual identity or orientation. It’s not generally seen as an absence of sexuality, but as a way some individuals relate to their own sexualities or with the idea of sexuality in general.

Disabled people can, and do, identify as asexual, without that having anything to do with their disability.

I think highlighting the variability of disabled people’s sexualities is important, and sometimes overlooked.

We emphasize so much that disabled people are sexual beings, that we forget that we’re allowed to be lousy lovers, or to have sexual relationships that don’t work, or to have lovers who just don’t enjoy our sexiness without that making them narrow-minded, ableist jerks. We forget that having sexual rights also means we have the right to be lousy in bed, that we have the right not to shock others with our sexualities, that we have the right to be celibate by choice.

So many disabled people don’t get choices, though. They don’t get privacy, or say in who provides their personal care, or who knows about their personal business. The idea that disabled folks who need physical assistance with daily personal-care needs (dressing, bathing, caring for their home, etc.) could also get assistance (without judgment) with the parts of their sexual and intimate lives they physically can’t negotiate themselves is deeply complicated.

There are no easy answers – so much of what I’ve brought up here would, and has, fill books – and there are no quick fixes for making mass changes to attitudes about disability, or sex, or disabled people expressing our sexualities. We’re talking about changing generations of attitudes about two experiences people hold so much fear around in general.

Maybe one place to start, for everyone, is to expand what we think of as sex in the first place.

Jul 162015
 

I published this interview with Joan Price on another blog more than three years ago. Since then, I’ve met Joan several times, and she’s just as funny and smart in person.

Joan’s approach to sex and sexuality is a perfect fit here at Ready, Sexy, Able.

Not all the changes seniors go through will be related to disability, and people with disabilities are all ages. But I think there are similarities in the kinds of discussions seniors and disabled people have about sexuality and relationships – conversations about how, yes, we really are intrested in and able to do sexy things, and no, our sexiness or our interest in sexuality really isn’t gross.

***

Joan Price JoanPrice.com calls herself an “advocate for ageless sexuality”. She is the author of Naked
at Our Age: Talking Out Loud About Senior Sex
(Seal Press, 2011), Better
Than I Ever Expected: Straight Talk About Sex After Sixty
(Seal Press, 2006), and several books about health and fitness, including The
Anytime, Anywhere Exercise Book: 300+ quick and easy exercises you can do whenever you want!
! Joan also speaks professionally about senior sex and about fitness. Visit Joan’s award-winning blog about sex and aging at Naked At Our Age. Joan lives in Sebastopol, California, where she teaches contemporary line dancing – which she calls “the most fun you can have with both feet on the floor.”

How did Joan start writing and speaking about senior sex? For fifteen years, Joan was a widely published health and fitness writer. Then at 57, after decades of single life, she fell deeply in love with artist Robert Rice, who was then 64. Their love affair was profound, joyful, and extremely spicy. Their passion, in contrast to society’s view of older people as sexless, led Joan at age 61 to write Better Than I Ever Expected: Straight Talk about Sex After Sixty (Seal Press, 2006) to celebrate the delights of older-life sexuality.
read more about Joan

You can also watch Joan talk about senior sex here!

A few months ago, I sat in on a phone interview with Joan,and found her one of the most personable, articulate, and delightful people I’ve ever virtually met. Her comppassionate but no-nonsense approach to sexuality is refreshing. Joan was kind enough to answer a few questions so I can share a little of her wisdom with you. Thank you Joan!

R.M. You’ve done a lot of things in your life, most of them relating to education in one way or another. I’m particularly interested in how your experience as a fitness professional and a sexuality educator interconnect. Do you think they do?

J.P. Yes, on many levels. bif we feel like we’re “in” our bodies, feeling the joy of movement and the way our muscles work, we enjoy both sex and exercise more. Physiologically, exercise increases blood flow not only to the muscles and the brain, but also to the genitals, enhancing arousal and sensation. Emotionally, the better we feel about our bodies, the more sensual and sexual we are able to be. And at our age, knowing we’re treating our bodies well will let us enjoy them more, overlooking wrinkles — I hope!
Also physical exercise is great foreplay! Robert and I always made time for walking or dancing as part of our foreplay. By the time we embraced in bed, we were already in sync with each other’s bodies and our own.

R.M. What are the three most important things you’d like seniors to know about their sexuality?
J.P. 1. Our youth-oriented society’s view of seniors who enjoy sex as icky, weird, pathetic, or ludicrous is wrong, wrong, wrong! Our sexuality can be pleasurable and joyful throughout our lives.

2. If something emotional or physical is interfering with your enjoyment of your sexuality, there are solutions available! That’s why I wrote Naked at Our Age: Talking Out Loud about Senior Sex, because so many of us just accept our changes as inevitable, unchangeable, and too embarrassing to seek help for – and don’t know that solutions exist that can totally change our experience.

3. We as seniors need to talk out loud about our sexuality. That’s the way we can change both society’s view and enrich our own enjoyment by seeking information, learning what’s possible, and sharing that knowledge.

R.M. I notice that you use the terms “senior sex” and “ageless sexuality.” What would you particularly like younger people to know about sex and aging.

J.P. I know it’s part of youth to believe you’ll never be old, never be wrinkly or arthritic or have saggy skin, never fall out of love or lose a partner to cancer – but this all happens! The best “sex insurance” that a young person can have for a sexually gratifying older life is to learn about the changes, listen to elders about their experiences, and embrace older people who are willing to share with you. It’s a sign of deep maturity to welcome a dialogue with elders, and emotionally enriching, too.

R.M. …and if you could say a few words about what is coming up next for you, what your current projects are, that would be terrific!

J.P. Woo hoo! I’m very excited about my new project, editing an anthology of senior erotica! This will be a collection of stories and memoir essays by writers over fifty, featuring steamy characters over fifty. Think about it – why is erotica almost always about young, hot bodies? Is there an upper age limit to being sexy, wanting sex, caring about sex? I say no. Please see my Call for Submissions.

Update: Ageless Erotica was published in 2013. It’s available in paperback and e-book.

Further Reading

Better Than I Ever Expected: Straight Talk About Sex After Sixty and Naked at Our Age: Talking Out Loud About Senior Sex are both availble in audio.

Joan’s latest book The Ultimate Guide to Sex After Fifty: How to Maintain ? or Regain ? a Spicy, Satisfying Sex Life is available in paperback, e-book, and audio