Sexual Disorientation: Anything Butt
Start your week with sex… or lack thereof. Delve into the jungle of the newly out and single every Monday morning in Sexual Disorientation.
Words are powerful. We hear thousands of them everyday and process them automatically, but the attachments we attribute greatly affect the way we understand our experience. As feminist theologian Mary Daly wrote, “If God is male, then male is God.”
I had been wondering recently how homos define the word “virginity” when the typical meaning doesn’t make much sense. If the LGBT community has traditionally been excluded from formulating discourse, how do we find a definition for a word like virginity that is actually relevant to our dealings in the world? Do we have to reconsider what we mean by some of the most basic words in our vocabulary?
To put it bluntly: what the fuck is sex?
I was at the theatre last week telling a friend about this column. At first he was adamant that for gay men, sex had to involve anal intercourse, a definition that I think many gay men share without having put much thought into it. But what about those who just aren’t into it? Or who practice it sometimes but don’t usually get off that way? “Fine,” he conceded, “I guess oral could count as sex, too. But that’s it – I refuse to consider a handjob sex.” He said that there had to be fluid and moisture involved on both ends, and that I could quote him on that.
“In other words, we need some membrane action?” After making this suggestion, I realized what a horrible conversation this was to have at the theatre.
The trouble with having a more open mind as to what constitutes sex is that it deprives us of having non-sex erotic experiences. The “anything but” trend in heterosexual culture – whereby hetero kids promise to stay virgins with the caveat that touching, oral and anal don’t count – might just be a laughable example of conservative hypocrisy. On the other hand, at least this concept presents the opportunity for messing around without giving everything up, and for there being more of a nuance to sexual experience.
LB, a TNG assistant editor, made this point while explaining her changing definition of sex. “Once upon a time, back when I was straight, I only counted vaginal sex,” she told me. Now she considers the intent to produce an orgasm her working definition for lesbian sex, but pointed out that that leaves a lot less gray area for stuff to happen without counting it as sex. By her definition, even an over-the-clothes orgasm could count as sex, a concerning thought to us both.
I was especially concerned when I realized that if clothes-on orgasms counted as sex, I lost my virginity to a girl in high school while in a car full of unknowing friends. I won’t be detailing that story, but let’s just say that my definition of sex instantly adopted a “clothes off” exclusive policy.
My investigative plot thickened with a story from another TNG editor, Gem, who works at a gay ladies’ bar in the city. Last week, she recounted, a few older women were inquiring about her sex life. One asked her if she was a virgin, to which she answered no. “Her response to this was then, ‘Oh god! What is the world coming to?!’” Gem said, and the reason was obvious. “When she asked if I was a ‘virgin,’ what she intended by this question was, ‘Have you ever had sex with a man?’”
Needless to say, she was more than a little annoyed. For Gem, “when genitalia has touched some other body part in an effort to orgasm,” sex has been had – with or without a man. (She also has a clothing-off clause, leading me to wonder if a lot of lesbians are getting action without stripping down.) Why should queer sexual experience be limited to the heteronormative standard? Doing so discounts the sexuality of those gold-star gays who have avoided encounters with the opposite sex, and also tramples on the sexuality of the gay community in general.
Having listened to my friends, though, I was still no closer to coming up with a definition of sex or of virginity for myself. I felt like the same word could have different meanings in different contexts. For example, I could understand two men in a relationship sticking to oral some nights and considering it sex. In contrast, two guys who had never hooked up before would likely not count the giving of a blowjob in a parking garage as sex. After all, they would lack sexual precedence with each other and would probably think of that blow job as more of a warm-up act to the real deal.
Mutuality doesn’t seem to be the dividing line either as it’s pragmatically arbitrary in a world in which some people prefer to give and some to receive.
And even the clothing and touching rules don’t work for everyone. As I have written about before, after an afternoon of phone action this summer I was shocked to be asked, “How did you enjoy our first time?” by the dude on the other end. For some people, evidently, sex can happen from three thousand miles away, no physical contact needed.
My conclusion is that sex, the lack thereof, and virginity are all what we want them to be. Maybe this is too convenient an analysis, but why make expressing our experience difficult? I personally like to be able to do different things with people and decide for myself whether I consider it sex or just a workout with a payoff.
Perhaps my hesitancy to throw the word “sex” around shows that even though its meaning is complicated and ambiguous, it’s still very powerful. I think that’s all the more reason for us to take control of it and not let someone else’s standards rule. To borrow sentiment from Daly, if screwing is heterocentric, then homos are screwed.
And as to my notions of virginity and the status of my V-Card – well, as Webster would surely agree, there are some definitions we just don’t need to print.
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Many use narrow definitions as to define themselves as virgins, others just admit the truth.
I know I spent time pondering the very same things a couple years ago, and came up with similar diagnostic questions (“Do clothes need to be off?”, “Is intent to produce orgasm sufficient?”, etc.)
Ultimately, though, my answer has become that the question itself is inherently flawed. I feel like trying to comprehensively express queer sexuality by shoehorning it around words like “sex” and “virgin” implicitly validates the heteronormative patriarchy that gives those words all of the baggage they carry. (Also, having conversations like this leads me to using phrases like “heteronormative patriarchy”, which makes me die a little inside =p) I use the word “sex” sparingly, and think we could drop the idea of “virgin” all together.
On a completely different note, to quote Dan Savage, “The more things you consider “real” sex, the more sex you’ll be having.”
I think defining virginity in terms of sexual acts is missing the point. To me, I liken “virginity” to “innocence” in that, if you help achieve an orgasm for someone else or vice versa, and it is an experience you have never had before, then you have had sex. Sex is essentially the mutual physical pleasuring of two (or more) people, and having an orgasm with someone else is, at least to me, an intimate act. Once that happens, there’s no going back: your “innocence” (or ignorance, for lack of a better term) in regards to sexual pleasure with another human being is gone and frankly, so is your virginity.
But the entire article illustrates how virginity was essentially thought up and used by religious organizations to enforce guilt and curb sexual behavior. Think about it: the author and his interview subjects work hard to narrowly define virginity. Let’s say for argument that over-the-clothes orgasms would count as sex, which would mean that the author lost his virginity in his early teens. His prose indicates that this would be a negative situation, so he redefines sex as a strictly “no clothing” act.
But why should he even have to do that? Why is there such a negative stigma in losing your virginity at whatever age you experience sexual pleasure with someone else? If we are going to live our lives in a “non-heteronormative way,” then maybe we need to recognize the concept of virginity for what it is:
Controlling the sexual habits of women.
Remember, virginity was never really expected of boys or men in the days of old, but my god, a woman had better be a virgin (or at least appear that way), otherwise there would be hell to pay: the man would be a laughing stock and the woman would be stoned, burned, or hanged, depending on the century we’re in.
Virginity is nothing more than an unattainable moral standard used to make people feel guilty about sex. And frankly, there is too much guilt with being gay as it is (at least for some people). So if we really want to define it ourselves, how about this:
Virginity is when a person does not yet know the wonderful, exciting feeling of pleasuring and be pleasured by someone else.
Being a virgin is not a negative thing, because the person “does not YET know.” Hopeful language there. And when virginity is lost, it’s because of a “wonderful, exciting” experience.
But maybe I ramble……
I think a very important thing that you glanced over is the difference in emotions during sex. “Sex” (in my mind) is physical, and it doesn’t matter if it’s a blow job in the parking garage or an intimate encounter in your partner’s bed. It’s penetration and/or the intent of orgasm (as far as I’m concerned).
What makes the difference is what you feel during it. I think that the definition of sex is too skewed by the social norms. No one wants a loose definition, because then they have to admit they might be a little slutty. No one wants an overly strict definition, because then they can’t brag about it as much.
I think people need to be able to stand up for the sex they have, but delve a little deeper into what each encounters means to them and why they do what they do.
Re: Mike
I do agree. I felt my response was getting a little long so I did glance over the emotional aspect of sex. I also felt that it was also the most vague and grey area to define, so I decided to just focus on the physical aspects, which is generally what most people use to define their virginity or lack there of.
Corey,
It’s Alejandro from the campaign. Thoughtful discussion. Thanks for putting it out there. You’re a clear writer.
Love the Family Guy reference! As for what counts as sex, I completely agree that it is in the eye of the beholder (as opposed to the ear… eww), but that’s definitely not a cop-out. It reflects the diversity of sexual experience and attitudes about sex. Any time we push back against those who would place sexuality and sex into a short list of convenient little boxes, be they heteronormative or not, I’m all for it.
Isn’t the whole notion of virginity kind of repressive and patriarchal, anyway? Why do you need to make a distinction? Obviously there’s no clear line between sexual and nonsexual contact.
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