Pleasure/Sexuality Tag

‘Can We Write About This? Men, Sex and Feelings’ is a podcast by Tony Pletts, featuring fizzing conversations with two brilliant writers and me.

The podcast has come out of the book Tony has written about the loving journey of our relationship, together and into consensual non-monogamy with others. The book hasn’t been published…yet. Taking his manuscript into the world has opened up a broader enquiry about why men have been reluctant to write about their personal sexual experiences and vulnerabilities, and if there is an appetite for them be published at all.

The conversations Tony has with Lucy-Anne Holmes and Monique Roffey are intelligent, provocative and fun. There’s an interview with me too if you want to hear more about what it’s like to be physically and emotionally exposed in thousands of words.

It is Tony’s honest self-reflection that makes his writing different from the bombastic hero we have come to recognise as the unreconstructed Hollywood portrayal of men’s sexuality. Tony and I make many mistakes, and he is willing to reveal our faltering steps and stumbles into emotional quick sands. Amid the steamy explicit descriptions of sex, his book is about learning by getting things wrong. Tony shows us what it is like inside his perception, and it is refreshing to hear about his awkward mis-steps. For me, he typifies ‘Daring Greatly’ (Theodore Roosevelt) via Brené Brown.

“If we are going to find our way out of shame and back to each other, vulnerability is the path and courage is the light. To set down those lists of ‘what we’re supposed to be’ is brave. To love ourselves and support each other in the process of becoming real is perhaps the greatest single act of daring greatly.” Brené Brown

I hope what Tony’s brave revelations will do is open more conversations, inspire people to acknowledge their true longings, encourage people to negotiate the shape of relationship that meets their needs, and allow others to connect with their feelings and their voice.

There’s more information about the podcast here, and You can find a link and listen to it here.

I totally celebrate who I am now – a bisexual person, married and in a committed triad. I am lucky to have had an incredible journey of life so far, discovering love for myself and others. But love and loss weave together. In offering a ‘Queer and GSRD’ (Gender, Sexuality and Relationship Diversity) Grief Tending session, I have been thinking about grief from a queer perspective.

Francis Weller’s ‘Gates of Grief’ can be useful lenses to look at our life experiences. These Gates are helpful to understand ‘grief’ as a range of emotions caused by a much wider range of circumstances than bereavement. Everyone’s histories are different, and people will be affected in different ways. Here are some of the ways grief that is specifically queer has shown up in my life, seen through these ‘Gates’.

‘All that we love we will lose’
Sitting with a cousin that I loved as he died of an AIDS-related illness.

‘The places that did not receive love’
My shame and disconnection did not allow me to make the link between hidden parts of myself – my butch teen image, secret compulsion to draw naked women and my sexuality.

‘The sorrows of the world’
Have you seen ‘Welcome to Chechnya’? It’s a terrifying reminder of places in the world where different attitudes to gender, sexuality and relationship diversity are not welcome.

‘What we expected but did not receive’
Where were the elders and role models to support, welcome and educate me around puberty and sexuality?

‘Ancestral grief’
I received confusing internal messages, following the shame and repression that kept my father in the closet until he was 60, in a generation for whom being homosexual was illegal.

‘The harm I have caused myself and others’ (Sophy Banks’ Gate)
Remembering times when I failed to really engage and empathise with my housemates while living in a lesbian community house.

You can read more about my personal story with Francis Weller’s ‘Gates of Grief’ here.

If ‘Embracing Grief – Queer and GSRD’ speaks to you, you can see more details here.

Why don’t we talk about menopause?

Why don’t we talk about the menopause? Are we just embarrassed to speak about personal things? Or is it because the things that happen to our bodies are loaded with shame? In talking about it, we might risk showing our vulnerability.  We are loaded in western capitalist society by unconscious messages about beauty and mortality. Youth, productivity and fertility are valued markers of success, rather than wrinkles and wisdom. It may also be because approaching our senior years reminds people that they will not live forever, the truth we all try to forget.

How can we talk to our peers about menopause? Media images encourage women in particular to compete at looking younger for longer. Is it because we daren’t risk being rude or invasive that we don’t ask or reveal to one another? Talking about the menopause may be just one taboo in a long list. We may not have talked about the things that came before this rite of passage – puberty, bleeding, pain, lost pregnancies, infertility, terminations, tampons, fibroids, sexually transmitted infections, our sexual encounters, our sexual pleasure, masturbation…

The metamorphosis of menopause

Like puberty, you don’t know when the menopause will happen, and how it will land in your life. It is official a year after your final period. I see it effect the people around me in different ways. The most likely predictor for when it will happen is genetic. Early menopause can also come way before mid-life. This is less common, and is sadly much less widely recognised, as it arrives unexpected with many consequences. My final period came when I was 51, the average age, despite my first period being early. I now have a nostalgic fondness for copious bleeding and the earthy messiness of menstruation.

“Everything you cling to that’s comfortable in its familiarity including your very identity is metamorphosing from the inside out,” Christiane Northrup.

Up to 10 years of peri menopause

The piece of information I wish I had known ahead of time was that it may have a lead up of 4-5 or even up to 10 years of peri menopausal symptoms. Menopause can also come suddenly in response to surgical or medical situations.

Menopause used to be known as ‘the change’; as though it was a single turning point in the transition from the archetype of mother to crone. My experience has been of a gradual process of transformation. With hindsight I can recognise difficult and sometimes dramatic symptoms in a lengthy peri menopause.

During, or perhaps as a consequence of peri menopause I was exploring my sexuality, and I enjoyed surges in sexual energy. At the same time, I needed to come to terms with infertility. There was grief in being unable to be a biological parent. I gradually let go of dreams of being a birth parent. This came with an enquiry into who I wanted to become. I weathered the emotional shifts as my creative energy was channelled into other new ventures.

“Our hormones are giving us an opportunity to see, once and for all, what we need to change in order to live honestly, fully and healthfully in the second half of our lives.” Christiane Northrup

Navigating the changes of menopause

I was unprepared for the physiological changes. I did have encounters with medical professionals during gynaecological medical emergencies, but I found little information or support elsewhere. My mother couldn’t remember how old she had been by the time I got around to asking. There was a distinct absence of elders to pass on their wisdom on the subject.

Davina McColl’s refreshingly straight-talking documentary on Channel 4 ‘Sex, Myths and the Menopause’ is a good starting point on the subject. Information can be found on websites such as Women’s Health Concern – the patient arm of the British Menopause Society, Menopause Support and Menopause Matters. Look for independent reliable information that is not covert advertising for products, treatments or consultants.

There is still stigma and embarrassment in talking about menopause issues. Like other signs of mortality, talking about ageing can be taboo, worse still showing visible signs of it. I am aware that some people feel more invisible in the face of the physical changes of becoming mature. Others may redirect their energies into new endeavours with vigour.

The issues around menopause are not just ‘women’s business’. In a mission to make menopause more inclusive, Tania Glyde recognises that ‘Queer Menopause’ effects many including women, trans men and non-binary people. Whatever your identity, it is likely to include hormonal, physiological and emotional changes.

Menopause in Relationships

Friends, family and partners may be in different life phases, or moving towards elderhood in different ways. It may be complex to co-navigate changing needs and desires in lifestyle and relationships. After many years caring for others, I found myself with more time to invest in new interests that I hope will sustain me into the next phase of my life.

Coming to terms with changes in levels of desire, or response may precipitate exploration into what works for us sexually. If you haven’t already considered what you still want to receive, or give, I recommend Betty Martin’s ‘Wheel of Consent’. Being menopausal doesn’t mean we have to give up on intimate touch, although it’s a great time to work out what we do want to share in relationships with others.

A rite of passage

Like most rites of passage, the route through menopause is a liminal journey of stages – preparation, threshold and return. Ideally there will be support and education during peri menopause, and adjustments made before the final period. The threshold occurs, but we may not know it until a year after it has happened. One of the things that I found tricky was not knowing when I had actually had my final period. There was a gap of six months and then a year between my penultimate and final periods.

During this time, we will be aware that our years of potential fertility or procreation have come to an end. As with any big life change, this transition is an opportunity to grieve what is ending. Our ability to recognise and face this letting go process will reflect how we feel about our achievements and regrets as our identity shifts. The health concerns that may have accompanied our menstruation cycles will also be factors.

As physiological changes happen, are we welcomed into a community? Do we have support in place for this new time of life? Do we have peers we can talk to? Is our GP willing to hear and respond to our concerns? Are we resourced enough to find the support we need to manage symptoms?

After all the changes that may accompany peri menopause, and then menopause, I notice an absence of marking this initiation. Will our arrival on the shores of eldership be acknowledged or better still celebrated? Is this the time, or will I have become a member of the older generation when my hair turns white, or when there are no longer any family members ahead of me?

The symptoms of menopause

There are many symptoms that may be part of the experience of menopause. Hot flushes, (hot flashes), poor memory, changes in sexual responses and vaginal dryness have affected me. Then there are night sweats and early morning anxiety which disrupt my sleep patterns. Symptoms may arrive suddenly or gradually then ease off or stick around.

I have experimented with a variety of alternative treatments to support my physical and emotional health at different times including Chinese herbs and Acupuncture, Grindberg Method, Cranial Osteopathy, Herbal Medicine and natural bioidentical hormone creams. This is in addition to taking food supplements, good nutrition and exercise. My family enjoyed regular yam patties for a while. Yam is one source of naturally occurring oestrogen, but quite an effort to mash.

One solution to ease vaginal dryness

If you want to avoid the graphic details of my journey with vaginal dryness, stop reading here. Vaginal dryness crept up on me, and I became reluctant to engage in penetrative sexual play until I discovered that regular activity in my vagina actually made the pain improve rather than worsen. I retreated from the dread of the words ‘vaginal atrophy’ by putting some practical steps into action.

Experimenting to find what works for me, I now have a daily practice of repeatedly inserting and removing a ribbed glass dildo into my vagina. You can find a selection at Women’s ‘adult emporium’ Sh! and other adult stores including Love Honey. This stretches my vaginal sphincter and helps my vaginal walls to lubricate. I use a dollop of ‘Yes VM’ natural organic vaginal moisturiser. (Their lubes are great too.) Over time I built up to moving swiftly in and out for a couple of minutes. Now I do it about 70 times every morning just before brushing my teeth. When I began, this was an unimaginable goal. But it has over time reversed the pain and dryness which I was experiencing during intimate touch.

Anything that enhances blood flow to the pelvic area may help. Practices of self-pleasure that work for you are worth experimenting with. I find ribbed glass good for stimulating and stretching, and the glass has a cooling sensation. I wish someone had given me a few tips, so I hope this will be useful information to pass on.

On the other side of menopause

What am I like several years on from my last period? A more direct communication style has replaced some of the buffers of ‘niceness’. I am more confident in who I am and what I want to do. My gender identity also feels less fixed, and also less important as my hair greys. Brain fog and memory lapses can make me feel at the edge of my capability, but I feel as though I have no time to waste, ready to offer my experience to the world as an elder in training.

My inexpert experiences here are a kind of coming out, to reveal what often remains unseen and unheard in the shadows. I value intergenerational work. The conversations I have with the extraordinary young people I come into contact with fill me with hope. The generations have such different perspectives and exposure to ideas around sexuality and the body. In writing this I offer an invitation to risk having conversations about the nitty gritty of life with elders and youngers alike.

For me, relationship is an evolving creative process. It is an exploration into who I am becoming, who the other or others are becoming; and then being aware of, and expressing what happens between us. My own journey is to become more wholly myself. This is also happening in a dance with both Tony and Rose. It is possible because of the willingness and generosity of Dexter, and the luck of our circumstances.

It is also possible because we have the luxury of time to communicate often and deeply with one another. I wouldn’t be able to do this without a shared commitment to authenticity and honesty. Whatever you might think about a ‘threesome’, this triad probably isn’t that. Our relationship continues to unfold daily around the kitchen table. We have become woven with each other as chosen family.

“How do you do it?” someone recently asked, and I replied, “Articulate everything.” Rose added, “And be accepting of the different ways you articulate those things.” I have discovered that it’s hard for me to explore all of me with one person. To love more than one person takes energy, time and emotional capacity. Two duvets is a practical sleeping solution. And being toasted by two bodies in a three-way-spoon is sublime.

After a long dry spell without access to a pool, we are longing to swim. There is still the shock as warm flesh hits cold water, and a sharp intake of breath once I have inched in deep enough to lean out into the first lunge. It feels as though my skin is being stroked by silk as I acclimatise to the cold. I remember how it feels good, as I dry off. Sunshine and the sea breeze toast my skin, drying beads of salt water. The smell of the sea, mingled with sun cream makes my nostrils flare with pleasurable associations.

Seagulls fly low overhead, scanning for fish and chips. I can hear the squeals of both children and adults as they encounter cool water. My companions swim at the far edge of the ‘marine pool’. Just beyond is the sea. All around me, there is a burble of happy holiday sounds.

In full sunshine, the landscape of sky is inked in cobalt blue and the sea blends olive green with Prussian blue. Later, overcast, it has a different colour palette. Hazy bands delineate pool, the Severn estuary, windmills and industrial silhouettes of Wales behind. Then there is sky and a few distant smears of cloud. Bands of neutral tones mark each layer, with hints of pink, blue, brown and green. The sea recedes, shimmering silver grey.

Two of my favourite people whisked me away, draped me in fluff and sequins (“because it’s panto” to quote Arkem), and took me on an adventure to see ‘Queer Stories’. The Embers Collective rekindle the art of story-telling. Lonan Jenkins our compare invites us in with ‘Permission’, a poem by Alabaster dePlume. This is a call to arms to “give yourself permission to do your awesome shit.” Doing something new and being yourself creatively is what the Embers Collective are all about. Together they create an easy, inclusive atmosphere to welcome all, where difference is valued. ‘Queer Stories’ is a cabaret style performance featuring Anya Pearson and Josh Middleton bringing music in and between the lines of the stories by Charlie Wood, Robert Holtom, James Boswell, India Jaggon-Barrett, Dominique Bull and Arkem Mark Walton. “What kind of character do you want to be in this story?” asks dePlume, talking to this particular moment in history. Delving into and beneath their own lives to bring something new, each performer has their own unique perspective on queerness. Adding archetype and mythology they produce stories that charm, move and delight. Every performer has their own distinctive flavour. Thank you Rosie and Julie for engineering for me to see their awesome shit. It was magic.
www.theemberscollective.com

There is an atmosphere of excited anticipation. The music is already quickening my breath. All ages and genders are wriggling into sequins. At every sink someone is creating a shiny, glittering mirror image of themselves. Socks, leggings, hoodies are shed wrinkled like cast off cocoons on the floor. Wigs, eye lashes, hats and hair flowers are positioned. I love this part of the ritual. This is the part where all the pleasure is still possible. Our fantasy selves have yet to emerge to be admired. Later on having fun requires constant monitoring to stay hydrated, with enough energy, to be on the dancefloor with enough space, not too loud, with one of the DJ’s I love playing just the right tune to make my spirit soar, next to the dancers who are still sober enough to share this perfect moment with me. But for now all this is still to come. We gather, eight of us on the sofa with ‘Hackney Dad’ as they name him and look up into the camera squealing, before we head out into the night.

The party has waves of activity. The highlight for me is watching Dex on the decks. His hands pause limp over the mixer, waiting to bounce the next tune into the mix. I love to watch as his arms, cast adrift, throw the energy of the tune into the room. His gregarious enthusiasm and geek-tech side come together here. Like a map, young people cluster around the house in continents. There are the dancers downstiars, the smoking talkers around the fire bowl, the chilling-outers upstairs, the shouters on the stairs, and the unwell on the floor. I hide in my garret unable to rest, unable to dance on my crook knee. Occasionally I creep downstairs, recoil from the swill of beer on kitchen surfaces, the disregard for proper recycling, and return to my private haven. But my nervous system registers each excited screech, each loud knock on the door. I recognise the time and energy I have put into learning how to party well over the last twenty-four years. There is a narrow edge between enjoyment and hedonism, which I hope they navigate successfully.

When my father died in 1988, I inherited his copy of ‘The Joy of Gay Sex’ by Dr Charles Silverstein and Edmund White. The ‘Rainbow Dads’ podcasts is a sensitive series of conversations that would have spoken directly to his situation, but he was of the pre-internet generation who had to find their own way. “It was just a deep feeling which I had inside of me which became really really powerful” Ahnet explains. He is one of the 5 gay or bisexual dads who talk frankly in this series of revealing podcasts about the “secret places” where queer sexuality often resides. Nicholas McInerny – our enthusiastic and genial host encourages each of them as they describe how they found “the courage to step out of family and social networks to reclaim my identity” in the process of coming out. We hear about their internalised messages of guilt and shame, in a context of different social, cultural and faith backgrounds. Importantly they also acknowledge the hurt caused. They each grapple with the complexities of marriage, their unconscious drives and parenthood. I warmed to these men as they confessed to many, “Oh shit! Moments” in the interplay between self, partner, children and community in order to know as David puts it, “that you are ok, that your life is valid.” Ultimately these are stories about being human, finding healing and learning to love. Their words resonate deeply with me and my own late coming out, but also shed light on my father’s internal conflicts that led to his own declaration of those words, “I’m gay.”
www.podtail.com/en/podcast/rainbow-dads/

Angry Dan’s bright and cheerful rainbow mural has been defaced by someone who sees Ikea in the colours yellow and blue. I want to reclaim them for sky, sun and sand. It made me realise how much I cherished approaching the rainbow as I walked down the path. To me it says “Hello!” queer or otherwise, with a nod to the variable nature of the weather. This morning it made me consider the fundamental nature of my queer identity. People who don’t know me well often assume that I am heterosexual. I notice how my nature – invisible for many years despite being called ‘Queero’ at primary school – is glad to be seen. Angry Dan – artist and activist also uses painted rainbows and clouds in his ‘blue dot’ series to remind us of the finite resources on this small blue planet.
www.angrydan.com