Sex and the City

I saw the Sex and the City movie opening weekend. I wasn't very excited about seeing it but a friend of mine really wanted to go so I gave in and I have to say that it was awful. I was going to write a long post about it but Samhita at feministing beat me to it. Check out her post Sex and the City: A Trainwreck. She had me nodding in agreement the entire time.

The only redeeming part of the movie was Samantha's character, which for me was usually the only reason that I watched the show in the first place. Her character isn't without flaws and personally I'd like to see her a little less sexualized sometimes but for the most part she is the one woman that over and over presents herself as a strong woman that is in control of her life.

For those of you that have seen it I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Note: If you plan on seeing the movie wait to read the post, but after you see it check it out.

Pillow Talk: a quasi-open letter

Dear Gee (and Playground readers),

Thank you for this post. I feel like it's important that your story and mine are back-to-back on the Playground because the relations and contrasts between them raised a lot for me--both emotions and questions.

First, let me say that I sat with this for a full day and a half, thinking about the best way to further the discussion. I have a feeling that the comments I make here may partly come off as hurtful. Please know that this is not my intent. I know that it may hurt anyway, and I own that. But I want you and the readers to know that my aim truly is to draw out deeper discussion among us all. The relationship you described between you and your ex is truly beautiful, and I feel a deep and personal connection to your story.

That said, something I'm sitting with after reading your post is the question of what constitutes "virgin." It's certainly subjective and the answer is not cut and dry, but reading your story brought up strong feelings of invalidation for me around my relationships. Let me be clear that this is not a reaction to YOU or YOUR story/experience in particular, but to the hetero-focus of how we discuss sex in general.

I'm wondering what the difference is between your non-penetrative sexual experiences and mine. Do the types of interactions that I named as the "best [sex] I've ever had" still leave you a virgin? (I may be wrongly assuming that you went further than kissing on the lips, and if so, I apologize, but I think the question could be asked of any other straight person as well).

Through the Blog-a-thon, I've come to wonder whether I will always be considered a virgin--a guy who does not need to penetrate; a person born female who does not want to be penetrated. It seems like virginity and sex are so often defined by vaginal penetration; sex is defined as one penis and one vagina (hm. I wonder if future homophobes will take marriage discrimination laws in this country one step further...).

As a person who identifies somewhere under the rainbow-colored umbrellas of queer and trans, my sexual interactions have no such reproductive ends. But the sex I have is hella productive; it has produced intimacy, growth, self-discovery, and (multiple) orgasms. But does it not count as sex if there's no risk of pregnancy?

I wonder what readers' thoughts are on this. Specifically, I'd love to hear from straight-identified folks who consider themselves allies--How do you define "sex" and "virgin" for yourself? What are the implications of these definitions for how you view and support your queer friends and relatives?

People of all genders and orientations are welcome to share their thoughts.

With love and respect,

-Sky

Let's talk about Sex

From Wednesday to Wednesday, May 28-June 4, 2008, The Playground will be participating in the Fourth Youth Media Blog-a-thon hosted by YO! Youth Outlook Multimedia and WireTap. Youth bloggers– along with any bloggers dedicated to writing about youth issues and youth media – will address the topic of sex.


I'm a punk. The topic for this month's youth media blog-a-thon was sex and I slyly sidestepped the issue by writing about dating. There are plenty of reasons for my topic evasion, but I think it's futile for me to make excuses at this point in the game. I've got to own this—I'm shy about putting my shit out there. So now, in my true drop-and-run fashion, I'm writing my real sex blog at the session's closing. I guess you can consider the last blog foreplay…

Ain't nothin sexier than mutual respect. The best sex I've had was with my recent ex. When I say "best," I mean GOOOOOOD. Like lung straining, earth shaking, leg slamming, vibrating, can't tell which way is up— GOOOOOOD. We were together for 2.5 years, plenty of time to discover each other and ourselves and the rhythms we made as a single unit. Together, we discovered our own sensualities and sexualities; we became one through fingertips, through skin on skin, curve in curve, brown melting in the heat of brown, chocolate and cinnamon and so delicious love.

So why am I talking about respect? Well, what was a home run for us, most would consider 3rd base. Our sex never involved a phallus—no dick or dildo or even digits played that role. Yes, survivors of different gender-based traumas, we made penetration-free, passionate love night after night to soulful heart-beats and the melodies of our breath.

And it was the BEST I've ever had. Respecting her made me feel sexy as hell: suave and caring and so completely in tune with her body that I knew she was climaxing before she did. And she respected me, too. She learned to caress my female figure, mold it into "gentleman" through kiss and touch. She helped me feel the parts of me that had for so long existed only in my mind's eye; she made them flesh. And Flush.

I was bashful about writing this out of fear of who might read it. I was worried that my friends and I wouldn’t be able to look each other eye to eye again, or that she might read this post and be triggered by its contents; to be honest, I still am. But I wrote anyway... because I'm still overwhelmed by the passion between us. And because I need to give voice to the beauty of mutual respect in sexual relationships.

Protect Yourself

From Wednesday to Wednesday, May 28-June 4, 2008, The Playground will be participating in the Fourth Youth Media Blog-a-thon hosted by YO! Youth Outlook Multimedia and WireTap. Youth bloggers– along with any bloggers dedicated to writing about youth issues and youth media – will address the topic of sex.

I lost my virginity at 16 in a less than ideal location and situation. At the time I thought I was ready. We didn’t use a condom and I wasn’t taking birth control and I had no fear that there may be consequences to my actions. Luckily I was fine. No pregnancy scare and my boyfriend at the time had not yet cheated on me.

After that first time sex became something I had to have. It was exciting and new and since we couldn’t just go in our rooms and close the door together we had to be creative about where we did it. Now I have a great list of places I’ve had sex that I can pull out during games of ten fingers.

I learned a lot about sex that first year. What I liked and didn’t like, what to do and how to do it, but I still wasn’t careful. I trusted my boyfriend completely and he later proved to be less than trustworthy which left me with more than just emotional pain. I vowed then to always use a condom even if I trusted the person. That vow was broken the very next time I had sex and the time after that. The fourth person I was safe with but only because he made it a point to use a condom. I convinced myself that since I knew the people I was sleeping with I didn’t have to worry about using a condom.

Each time I didn’t use a condom I would think in the back of my mind, “Why am I doing this? Why am I putting myself at risk?” but I didn’t stop. I would later get scared and get tested and find out that I was fine and again vow to always use a condom. At times I did it and I would feel great for asserting myself as a strong woman but other times I would just let myself fall captive to male protest. Then I would question why I was sleeping with someone that didn’t want to use a condom.

It took me a long time to figure out why I wasn’t more assertive and serious about using condoms. Most of the time I would just try and push it out of my mind and pretend like it wasn’t a big deal. Then I realized that the reason I didn’t use condoms was directly related to my fear of talking about sex with my partners. I could always talk about sex with friends with confidence but with my partners I got nervous and worried about what they would think. So if they didn’t use a condom or suggest using a condom then I didn’t either. Once I came to that conclusion and acknowledged my fear I was able to take control of it.

I recently ended an almost three year relationship. We started off using condoms but as things became more serious we stopped and that was ok with me. I truly trusted him and knew that we were committed to each other. Enough time had gone by since I was burned by my first boyfriend for me to recognize when someone was actually trustworthy.

However, now that I am in the dating scene again I have to get comfortable talking about sex with a new person and remember to stay safe and use a condom in all my sexual relationships. Especially as someone that works on the issue of comprehensive sexuality education I need to take control of my sex life just as I advise others to.

Lately I’ve been dating a man that wants to “take things slow.” Something I’m not used to at all when it comes to sex. It’s hard for me to not want it and think about it when I’m with him, but I greatly admire his ability to take it slow and take a step back. We are able to really get to know each other and think about what it is we like about each other without having sex get in the way or take up most of the time we spend together. It’s giving me time to reflect on what sex means to me and what I want in a relationship. By not having sex right away I feel like I’m allowing myself to open up to this man in a new and different way. Plus, in a way it’s like extended foreplay. And if and when we do decide to have sex I’m confident that we’ll use a condom.