KAM REDLAWSK

View Original

Valentines Series on Disability, Sex and Intimacy

Part 1: Valentines Series on Disability, Sex & Intimacy

Part 1: Valentines Series on Disability, Sex & Intimacy

This is one of my favorite topics! I like breaking misconceptions and stigmas in this area for both the non disabled and the disabled community who have been bound by incorrect rules and portrayals of what relationships, intimacy and sexy are supposed to look like.

When you find out you’re going to be disabled, one of the first things you may think of is sex and dating. “How is this going to work?” is not a question relegated only to curious prying eyes from strangers yet also an internalized one that can burn deep within.

When you become disabled, you have to begin relearning your body including new ways to be intimate. This can be challenging as we compare ourselves to the image of what we think it’s supposed to look like—images etched into our minds through repetitive narratives we are fed every day. It’s not just the physical relearning but also social as we disabled are typically inundated with constant thoughts on how the other person is going to perceive us, and then many of us can bring this insecurity into the bedroom. This is natural.

When I first learned I was going to be disabled for the rest of my life at 20 years old, I queued up my own doomsday perception of my future with love and sex—a byproduct of internalized ableism that had been hatched into my mind - into all our minds - from day one.

Ability is subjective.

Many non-disabled disabled can’t have sex or need assistance (there’s a multi-billion pill industry specifically for assisting men) and yet it’s disabled people who are unfairly stereotyped as sexually “broken” and/or indifferent. We drastically omit that sex, sexuality and relationships come in all different packages and styles—this aided by the media's lucent box booming subliminal messages of what is right and wrong.

When we envision sex we imagine thrashing bodies, arching backs and robust writhing, but I can’t do any of this anymore. I have a rare muscle-wasting condition that’s been slowly depleting nearly every muscle into nonexistence. My condition doesn’t affect sensation, but most think it does.

This well-kept ignorance is why it’s important to know disability and sex are not monoliths; we’re all different.

Sex is far more mental than physical.

As I’ve lost mobility, sensation has only heightened at equal pace. I’m also far more sexually and mentally connected to my body than I ever was pre-disability. Part of this I credit to disability-the other, experience and time as a near 45 year old woman.

When we think of sex organs, we think of gender appendages yet our brain is the largest sex organ we have. The brain is in the driver seat and tells our body when something is pleasurable and exciting. This is why despite no physical touch, for some, dirty talk is so arousing.

What my progressive disability has taught me is that opening and clearing the mind is essential. I’ve learned to accept that I have little movement, so I work with what I got, because it’s more important for me to experience my sexuality as freely as I can. If I’m always thinking about how I can’t move or of my insecurities, then my mind will never be present and neither will my body.

Think of sex more like the meeting of the minds than the meeting of the bodies.

Intimacy is about being present; it's not about the body as much as we think. When your mind is present, you’re able to experience how the body is intended to feel more clearly because you’re not weighed down with insecurities or fears of what the other person is thinking. You’re truly present. A good way to think of it is, most of the time if a person is with you, they’re probably just happy to be there and have that exchange with you, and there’s a good chance you’re judging your body and self much harsher than your partner is. This is true for both disabled and non.

Knowing sex is more mental than physical, it shouldn’t be surprising that when you lose sensation or mobility, the ability to experience pleasure and sexual connection is not over. There’s so many ways one can adapt and explore so don’t give up just because it looks different. For example, did you know you can have the big O just by thinking of sex, even if no one is around? This was mind blowing when I figured out how to do this, no pun intended.

I’ve read stories of men with SCI and zero sensation below the waist that could orgasm just by rubbing his thumb. The sensory structures in our bodies is like a highway system, more complex and amazing than we realize, and the mind a marvelous playscape that drives it.

My sex life post disability is far more liberating and freer than pre-disability, and much of this was about letting go of my perceived inadequacies, being in the moment and being open and present beyond the physical space. I can get lost in my mind, in the moment and thus my body.

During sex I feel the most connected to my body. I’m usually in constant pain but IN the moment of intimacy all sorts of endorphins release. People don’t think of it this way, but sex is actually good for your physical health; it’s a natural pain reliever, natural antidepressant, exercise/physical therapy, immune booster and helps you sleep (use this “health benefit” on your partner next time 😉). I’m more mentally in the moment and have learned to completely release myself from any expectations and control, and this has enhanced my sensory and sexual experience so much more.

Many of us struggle with insecurity with sex and our bodies. Newsflash, it’s not only us, non disabled do too, but for us there is definitely an extra layer of pressure non disabled don’t have to live through when it comes to intimacy.

To overlook yourself as worthy of love or intimacy just because you can’t walk, move, speak or hear is a great disservice to the spectrum of sexuality and how pleasure and intimacy can unfold. This rigidity we place around an idea or person smothers imagination. We think sex and love has to look and feel a certain way, and in doing so we miss out on so much variation and the infinite unique paths to pleasure.

In the end, if you truly want love, it has to start with loving yourself first. We may look or move differently, but different is ok, and you’re every bit worthy of these expressions no matter what your body looks like or how you move (or don’t). Sexy is a state of mind. All other opinions are unnecessary.

Part 2: Valentines Series on Disability, Sex & Intimacy

PSA: Disabled people like sex, we talk about sex and, yesss, we can have sexxx!

(CW: Some SA talk)

Why do I talk about sex and disability? It’s not to be shocking or sensational. I actually think it’s important to have an open dialogue about sex, mostly because it’s an area we’ve been taught to be shameful of throughout generations, whether by cultural, religious or societal influence.

There is so much unnecessary stigma around this topic. We see violence and guns all day on TV and yet sex, one of the most natural aspects of being human, is the thing we’re shielded from or taught to fear. We instead waste time banning and firing art teachers (Florida) showing the David’s sculpture because of its “nudity”.

Now add disability on top and we’ve now just entered (no pun intended) no, no land.

Much of society views disabled as asexual, disinterested, unable, void of desire or agency, and talking about sex is still taboo, especially when it involves disabled people. This honestly irks me when we are immediately and completely washed of sexual agency. Everyone needs access to love and intimacy, no matter who you are. This connection is a natural part of being human, and denying this essential part of the human condition is cruel. This ignorance is also precisely why disabled people are oftentimes dehumanized.

Ok…we’re gonna get a little more serious, hang on.

One of the major reasons I think sex (+ disability) should be talked about more is it helps wash away the shame we’ve associated with our body, and even taught since we were children. Shame is horrible. No one should ever feel shame around their body. But there’s another dimension we don’t think of with shame, and that is how it has been used to silence (CSA & SA) abuse into the shadows. When it happens, since we’ve been taught we’re dirty, the abuse and blame almost always falls onto the victim.

I could go on and on about how sex, in general, has been used throughout human history as a form of control; how shaming (especially women) and controlling sexuality through dogma or arbitrary rules created a culture of silence.

Where there is silence, abuse breeds, and it’s not uncommon for disabled people to experience a high rate of sexual abuse.

If we don’t feel comfortable talking about sex, if we’ve been told our bodies are terrible our whole lives, if we’ve been told to be ashamed around subject X, then abusers and systemic institutional abuse are able to do as they please in the shadows, whether it’s through religious institutions (very common, as we’ve learned), Women’s Olympics or the Boy Scouts that was recently implicated with decades of systemically hiding abuse-producing tens of thousands of victims. 

We don’t realize that the tradition of shaming creates silence, but there should never be shame around one’s

body, and most certainly not in abuse. Tying this back into disabled people, it is easy for disabled to be victims of this, and we have been taught an extra layer of shame for our bodies by the general cone of society.

One of the reasons society is completely ignorant of the fact that we have all the same desires as them, is simply lack of visibility. I say this all the time: What we don’t see, we don’t know. Our mind or span of personal experiences is filled with many gaps that can only be filled through curiosity beyond the self. 

Greater society has dehumanized us, in part, because they’ve taken us out of the love, relationship and human experience of intimacy. We’re not on covers or media showing we can be sexual so it’s assumed we aren’t interested or able. 

When you have an accident or are born with a disability and reach the age of sexual intrigue, no one really tells you much about how sex works in this (new) body. In fact, many doctors say your life is over like mine did when I was first diagnosed back in Michigan of 2003.

When I first became disabled some 20 years ago, of course dating and sex came to mind. I was initially insecure, but with time I built up confidence. I’ve been fortunate to have an active and healthy sex life throughout the stages of this progressive disease, but it didn’t come without work and relaxing anxieties of how I’m being perceived.

Now, confidence doesn’t mean void of insecurities. Anyone who pretends they are confident all the time is lying to you. Do I get down as my body weakens and I can’t move in certain ways anymore? Of course. But the trick was not letting those fears limit me more than my condition already was, because living life and experiencing its pleasures was just too important to me. 

This has been one of the greatest gifts of this progressive disability; it has pushed me beyond insecurities and comfort, and for that I’m forever grateful.

This progressive condition of mine intersecting with sex has mostly been about adapting and challenging myself to create new ways to reach the desired end. It’s been about being imaginative and making use of props like pillows, wedges, sex chaise and the like to assist the parameters or milestones of my body.

I want to normalize sex and disability. I want both non disabled and disabled to see we can be loved and have fruitful sexual and intimate relationships, so don’t discount us. We aren’t victims and we aren’t someone you need to overlook nor feel sorry for. We are just different as all bodies, disabled or not, inherently are. 

I believe in taking full autonomy for your body and sexuality, because then you’re in control, not others, not dogma or arbitrary rules. We’ve been fed all these rules-whether by society, media, political or religion-of what we can or can’t be, but we don’t have to be anything but ourselves.

Everyone deserves love and intimacy, whether you can’t walk, have Down’s syndrome,  limb or facial differences, blind, deaf, think or look differently or can’t move. Never forget this.

For more ♿️ travels, disability and accessibility musings, mini-memoirs @ https://Instagram.com/kamredlawsk