How to make sexting inclusive (including asexual people!)

I often find it hard enough to read someone on a in-person date, so sexting has always felt a little nerve-wracking for me. Plus I also struggle to feel my boundaries during sex and often need my partners to check-in with me lots, and this type of thing can often feel forgotten when someone’s getting carried away over text.

At the same time I love to know the specifics of what someone enjoys in sex… someone that gives me good details of what it is that turns them on is one of my biggest turns ons.

So when I had a mindblowing experience with someone in Amsterdam I wanted to find a way to keep the sexual chemistry alive for a little longer, and created a little sexting game for us to play together. I’ve played it multiple times with multiple people now and it feels like it creates a wonderfully safe container while encouraging expansive possibilities that push people to engage beyond the basics. So I thought I’d share it for more people to enjoy together:

How it works

The aim of the game is to explore fantasies and understand one anothers boundaries and preferences and reach a mutually fulfilling conclusion - this is open to interpretation.

Decide who is going to be the story teller. The story teller sets the scene and follows it with a question such as "We had a wild night last night and you are still fast asleep. How would I wake you up?"

They then give their partner 3 options to choose how they would respond.

  • A. Wrapping my arms round you from behind and kissing you on the back of the neck

  • B. Bringing you the best coffee you’ve ever had

  • C. Climbing on top of you

The story teller must then continue the story based on what the reader has chosen. Offering more choices as you go.

If your partner doesn’t like any choices offered they can suggest a 4th choice or pass and the story teller has to redirect the story. If there is two passes its game over.

The reader also has one switch card they can play where they become the storyteller.

You each get points along the way if you make the other person smile 😊 / laugh😂 / feel seen 💯 or turned on 😜 . You can use emojis to signal this. You get double points for excellent details or attention 👌Each emoji counts as one point.

Some examples of how it’s worked for me

Some of my games have become intensely hot, some have been ridiculously detailed and hilarious, others have gone down the cute platonic route (hence why I think it could work in an asexual relationship also). I’ve even combined the game with a bit of domination to get my partner to tick things off their to-do list (they don’t get another part of the story until they finish a task).

Relatively vanilla example from early on in a game

The nice thing about it is it allows you to learn more about each other, and adapt your sexting approach based on what you learn from someone’s response - rather than assuming you know what they’d enjoy right now.

It can also offer a space to explore things that are perhaps hard to prioritise and explore when together. There’s often kinky things I want to try with my partners that need lots of time to work out the logistics of - exploring how those things might play out through a game like this first can give the other person permission to bring that into the bedroom.

I’d also love to see more people experimenting with this type of game in long term relationships where intimacy has perhaps fizzled out. I feel like the joint fantasising in a way where one person can express many different desires, and the other person can feel safe to choose what feels best for them, would give people the structure they need to unpack some things that have perhaps been tricky to bring up in other settings.

Loving as world-building

There’s a million painfully bizarre ways that people refer to the central relationships in their lives but one of my the least favourite phrases I hear people say is “we’re settling down”. We are often led to believe that the heat, energy, and electricity we feel within connections are simply symptoms of early days excitement, and that compromise and endurance are what ‘true love’ looks like. But what if both these narratives are incorrect? What if the buzz we crave from new relationships is because capitalism has stripped the every day joy and ecstasy that is possible when we go deeper into our humanity? What if when we look at the idealised long-term monogamous relationship we are being sold something that feels like comfort in order to ensure we remain quietly complicit within the broken systems that are rapidly destroying the world around us?

In many ways I had a fairytale romance when I married and had kids with my best friend. We’d ticked the boxes and we were ready to be ‘settled’ as a nuclear family (albeit within a life full of debt and unhealed trauma). But to sustain the love story we’d need to commit to repressing whole parts of ourselves - in fact as two trans people hiding within a heteronormative world we actually needed to hide ourselves entirely. And this is not uncommon even within monogamous relationships between two cis hetero people. When ‘two worlds collide’ it is commonly believed that you have to lose parts of yourself if you want to maintain that connection. Goodbye solo travelling. Goodbye to the hobbies that consume ‘too much’ attention. Goodbye affectionate friends. Goodbye to the mother that annoys your other half. Goodbye to challenging the status quo because it’s better to be stay safe and contained now that someone loves us.  Goodbye to changing the world. And that’s if we’ve even bothered to bring our full selves to our relationships in the first place - most people connect with others by presenting a narrow, curated version of themselves that they believe is most palatable to their colleagues, friends or lovers.

And while some of us might “choose” to settle down and narrow in these ways, many others find themselves forced into this way of living and loving as a result of their partners’ possessiveness or wider cultural or societal expectations. In “Abolish the family” this type of love is described as ‘property love’.

Until my relationship with my anchor partner Nick, I had no version of love that demonstrated anything other than the above. I never knew what love looked like because my free will/spirit had been crushed under the weight of the cis heteronormative white supremacist capitalist patriarchy. In “Abolish the Family”, Sophie Lewis shares a quote about “Relinquishing the organised poverty in favour of an abundance we have never known” and it makes me realise that my love only transformed when I accessed/ allowed myself experiences that were completely beyond my imagination. It is through those moments, where I step out of this world and experience a whole new world, that I learn how to keep expanding what is possible. It gives me the tools, insight and knowledge to build and shape an existence more powerful and profound than I could’ve ever dreamed.

When my partner says “We’re going to keep building a world where…” it runs through me more than words like ‘I love you’, ‘Marry me’, ‘I’m yours forever’ ever could.  Because it shows me that our love is alive and active, and it doesn’t simply exist… it creates! As an example, when I have an autistic meltdown I no longer feel the need to shut down parts of me to protect my relationship, and Nick doesn’t feel like he has to pretend to be okay with things to protect me. Instead he holds it all, even when it doesn’t make sense, and says “We’re going to keep building a world where your brain and body has more of what it needs”. And this is now how I want to love everyone.

With my kids I don’t want my love to be expectant or imposing. Instead of “Because I love and care for you, you should listen to me”, we will get creative together. We will explore the shape of our love, and let it shape the way we live together. I also won’t love them passively out of duty and biology. We will work hard to create worlds together where we can discover our authentic connection, and our love will grow when we need it to, and retreat when they need more from others.

In addition to this I think it’s important that this world-building form of love is open and expansive. Sometimes we shelter within the worlds we’ve built - as a queer trans person this has been deeply necessary at times in order to protect my energy. But many people exist within a ‘batten down the hatches’ or ‘us against the world’ form of relating - creating isolation, separation from community and fuelling toxic cycles of co-dependency.

In ‘The Mushroom at the end of the world’ Anna Tsing talks about the symbiosis that occurs between fungi and other plants and trees. She talks about how humans have often focussed on categorising individual species, but that actually fungi often join forces with other living beings to create whole ecosystems, and that the ‘individual species’ within this would not exist without the other.   

When I think about this, I think about the partners, friends and family I actively choose to connect with to create community. Community does not passively happen because we are simply connected. There must be investment in how ideas, culture, and value flows within that community. We are a community because we can create worlds together. Those worlds can simply replicate other worlds or we can love even more actively and put the work in to actually cultivate something magnificent.

And when loving is about world-building we can finally discover the true power of it. It is an endless expanding, renewing, cyclical resource. I’ve often joked to partners that the energy I feel as a result of mind-blowing sex is revolutionary, and that more good sex could be the answer to most of societal problems. But there is a half truth in that. As described in Radical Intimacy or this blog post on queer platonic relationships, capitalism has attempted to commodify everything including love and relationships. When we finally realise that our love can not be contained, and that loving others should not need to involve making ourselves and our worlds smaller, we might actually discover an authentic existence that is both electrifying and rooted, freeing and safe. An expansive world where loving is the currency that keeps us all thriving.

Are stability and relationship anarchy incompatible?

Many people within my life, whether they are monogamous or polyamorous, have responded with caution when I mention the concept of relationship anarchy. The concept of relationships being shaped and reshaped, and individuals having complete freedom over what they share with who, can feel daunting for some people. In a world where we have not developed enough skills to navigate fluidity and change, it can feel overwhelming to have to continuously question what a relationship is and design it based on the deeper fundamentals of who you are and what you desire at that moment in time, rather than on a simple label or static status.

Quite often people incorrectly believe fluidity equals instability. This belief is held both by people with systemic power who want to maintain a status quo which provides them with comfort and control, as well as by people who are oppressed and harmed by the system. We are taught that if we can manage to gain some security and certainty we will be safer within that system. Even though my body and brain actually feels more steady and grounded when I’m able to flow and loosen my grip on the world around me, there are very few situations where I feel comfortable enough to flow in that way without harm or risk. As a result someone like me could incorrectly assume that it is the fluidity and uncertainty within my life that is dangerous. But the truth is simply that our systems and structures are not built to support fluidity and flow - they are rigid and ruptured - and so therefore flowing within them can bring risks. 

Rigid categorisation is deeply woven in the fabric of our society and legal systems. Throwing away that categorisation (and the inherent hierarchies that come with it) is like stripping off naked at a party. While that might be liberating for some, many of us may experience more vulnerability than others when enacting that. As Andie Nordgen writes in the Road to Relationship Anarchy: “The cost of making a completely custom relationship agreement can look very different for different people, and the tyranny of “structurelessness” must be considered — where too little structure can turn into power and benefit for those who already possess it. Relationship Anarchy must be equipped with this power analysis, and be open for declaring structure to relationships when it’s needed to protect individuals from each other.” (Thanks to my good friend Chan for bringing my attention to this quote)

In addition, regardless of the structures we are part of, we do all crave and need consistent love to feel secure. Whether that’s from ourselves, our partners, or our friends. Within our society we have falsely presumed that monogamy and romantic love is synonymous with commitment, consistent love and stability. And in turn we have wrapped up all forms of relating into that monogamous commitment - sexual intimacy, emotional intimacy, financial support, co-habiting etc. This is why it is easy for so many of us to perpetuate the hierarchy that suggests romantic love from a single partner should be prioritised above all else. 

While many people perceive Relationship Anarchy as anti-hierarchy, in my experience the underlying nature or need behind some hierarchies may still exist. It’s just that there isn’t any hard or fast rules around them being arbitrarily dictated by labels. Instead you are consciously engaging yourself and your connections in deep work to ensure you are making choices that reflect your autonomy rather than narratives that have been put upon you.

Relationship Anarchy allows me to unpack presumed norms around what stability and love is, and instead create more conscious, valuable  and aligned versions of love and care with my partners, friends and communities. For me it is about unpacking every layer of care and pleasure that we might share with other people, and actively deciding whether that is truly important or not within a given context. We design our relationships based on us as individuals and collectives rather than presuming you have to do something or prioritise something because other people tend to wrap those things up together, or because that’s how you’ve done things in the past. 

As an example I used to think that sharing your money with a romantic partner was a sign of deep connection, trust and commitment to mutual support. But having been through a relationship where much of the latter wasn’t actually present and I experienced financial hardship as a result, I’ve learnt that there might be situations where I need to maintain financial independence regardless of how much I care about someone else. At the same time there are other contexts where it makes entire sense to share finances… not necessarily because of love but because of a communal commitment to investing in a particular kind of life together.  At a more basic level an ex of mine used to praise me for bringing them a glass of water when we went to bed - saying I demonstrated so much more care than their other partner who would never do this. At the time I didn't see it as a important act of love, but the status they had given it made me panic about regularly servicing them with water to show them I cared. And since then I’ve event found myself having momentary unexpected feeling of resentment when my current partners don’t bring me water at bedtime - even though it never was and never will be important to me personally.

Within Relationship Anarchy, if I am someone that needs more emotional intimacy than others, then I am free to seek and cultivate that from multiple sources. I can make it central to all kinds of different relationships, whether that’s my partner, a friend, a therapist or the person that runs my local gym. The same goes with sexual intimacy. If that is core to my experience of the world and it helps to keep me grounded I can seek that with whoever I wish whenever I desire. Or perhaps sexual intimacy gets in the way of emotional intimacy for me, so I can choose to prioritise the latter as core to a relationship with a long-term partner, and only enjoy the former sporadically with other connections.  

For me relationship anarchy in a broad sense, and non-monogamy more specifically, is just an extension of how we should all be learning to relate to others if we want to create a society that values individual autonomy and collective care, over and above rules and hierarchies enforced by those who wish to oppress and control the behaviours and freedoms of others. 

Capitalism wants you to wrap up every single need into one person because it means you have to pay to outsource anything you can’t manage or meet within your household. In most situations it is nearly impossible for a couple to single-handedly raise children, financially support a family and still maintain nourishing intimacy - unless they can afford to pay a nanny to be their co-caregiver. Capitalism believes it is acceptable for a low-paid cleaner to help you out in your home, but it does not like it when multiple adults wish to live together out of love and friendship in order to share this burden collectively. 

Growing up in a society fuelled on isolation, it is no wonder that desperation for control and order becomes the stance that many of us adopt when it comes to relationships. As our one last life line to connection and care, loving relationships become a commodity that someone or something else could ‘steal’ at any time. Why do children act out so viscerally when they parents are glued to their phones? Because someone is stealing our attention. 

But we will only be able to access everything we need to cultivate healthy, stable, consistent care when we learn that we cannot control other people’s behaviours, and that our relationships are only worth as much as the value we wish to create together rather than the status or obligation that is bestowed to us by society based on exclusivity, marriage or child-rearing.

Relationship anarchy isn’t disarray and chaos. It is a way of building thoughtful, empowering relationships that generate mutual value for those participating in that relationship, Only once we are capable of experiencing multiple deeply mutual and profound relationships in a variety of ways within our communities will we understand what true stability and limitless love and care can look like.

Different types of touch you might enjoy inviting or giving

As an autistic person I often struggle to read when someone does or doesn't want to be touched, and I can also find some touch overstimulating. I've learnt explicitly asking someone if there's anywhere they hate being touched, or anywhere they love being touched can be both informative and a huge turn on for all involved.

I've also found because we are so cautious to explore our bodies and other people's bodies we often fail to vocalise or experiment with all the different ways we might enjoy touch. In my experience queer people tend to be a little more experimental because there is often gender fluidity to account for, but in other ways we are equally prescriptive as our heternormative peers.

One of the best things about being polyamorous is I learn new ways of touching and being touched all the time. And as a relationship anarchist physical intimacy can exist outside romantic or sexual relationships too.

So here's a variety of non-sexual and sexual ways of touching that you might enjoy.

Stroking collar bones

The first time my partner stroked my collar bone it released the weight of the world. It is one of the most useful and delicate bones in our body - it is the bone that gets broken most often. We should show it more care.

Do you feel soothing tingles when you stroke your own collar bone?

Walking fingers around a face

The first person to walk their fingers around my face was my son who was three at the time. His intense studying of me made us feel connected. And the pressure points he unlocked without knowing eased the mental stress that was building through parenting.

Try walking your fingers around the face of someone you love. Does it help you really see them? Do you notice the way they relax in response to certain points you touch?

Biting fingers

Our fingers do so much work in sex (and life) but so many of us don't consider them to be erotic within themselves. If you've never tried putting your fingers in someone's mouth, or never put someone's fingers inside yours you might be missing out. I find biting other people's fingers and knuckles also gives my jaw a much needed relief from clenching and gridning.

Forehead rocking

You don't have to exchange fluid to feel bonded with someone. I can spend ages rocking my head back and forth on my partners forehead. It releases pressure and makes me feel just as close as kissing.

Arm squeezing and butt massaging

My arms store a lot of energy. When someone squeezes them from top to bottom it is like they've squeezed all the bad juices out of me.

Also screw back massages. Our butts so so much work for us that having a good squeeze can sort you right out. This type of attention pre-sex also gets me feeling more loose and relaxed.

Chest clawing and pushing

A lot of people's relationship with their breasts is complicated. We festishize breasts like no other part of the body but the doesn't mean everyone wants theirs grabbed and fondled.

A lot of non-binary people I've dated have often preferred having their chest grabbed and pushed.

Kissing behind the ear

There are areas on our body that rarely get touched or even seen, so it can feel electric when they do. Do you remember the feeling of that whispering game as a kid? Being kissed behind my ear often evokes that fizzing energy for me.

Content warning... Things about to get more sexually explicit

Tracing pant lines

Too many people regardless of gender or sexuality rush straight in to getting down to business when sex is on the table.

I've been loving having the top and legs of my pants stroked and teased with. And cautious fumbling around pants can make me feel like a giddy teenager again.

Putting just the tip of a finger or bellend inside a vagina

Just because porn tells us deep penetration is the most enjoyable of sex it doesn't mean it is. My gspot is actually near the entrance of my vagina so the first time I orgasmed through penetrative sex was with someone who has a small penis. I used to think that having someone deep inside me was more connecting but actually we can sometimes experience more of each other when we keep a little distance.

Rubbing or licking a bellend like a clitoris

And if you have a penis you might be missing out on more intense orgasms by showing your whole shaft in someone's mouth or with vigorous hand jobs. Try going slower and gentler with just rubbing the top of your penis and you might unlock something more akin to a long intense clitoral orgasm.

Thrusting against a perineum or just below someone's Coccyx

And if you are like me and don't have a penis but wish you did don't fear. Our clitoris’ are powerful little fuckers. We all know (I hope) the joy and wonder of grinding our vulva and clit against someone else's wet vulva, but have you ever tried fucking someone's perineum or coccyx? The pressure often makes my clit feel much bigger and harder and I've been told my partners sometimes experience it as if I've got a penis as a result.

Tight binding mixed with slow stroking

One of my sensitivity issues is that touch can suddenly feel too soft or too hard. It's why I loved experiencing a harness and want to do more binding because the pressure across parts of my body was super grounding in a way that enabled me to enjoy slower and rougher touch.

Share your ideas: Are there any electricfying or soothing ways you like to be touched?

The joy of feeling entirely myself at A playfighting workshop and erotic party

Last month me and my partners headed down to London to participate in Open Relating’s playfighting workshop followed by a Temple of Eros play party. I was in the middle of a PMS tornado and ended up having my first public autistic meltdown in a long-time on the way down while sitting on a packed train feeling overstimulated and overwhelmed.

Given how fractured and distressed my brain and body was that day many people would assume that jumping into my first ever experience of a play party with a bunch of strangers would be the last thing I’d be able to engage with. But what followed could not have been further from that expectation and it helped me to more deeply understand the way I experience the world and my needs as a result. 

Finding my threads

I often explain to people that the difference between my neurodivergent brain and my partners more ‘nuerotypical’ brain is that if life was a piece of woven fabric he’d be noticing and engaging with the threads that run parallel, and I’d more easily spot and navigate the threads that run vertically. The only difference in how we experience the world as a result is that much of our society is built on the threads that run horizontally, so I end up struggling with more ‘mundane’ or ‘obvious’ stuff and my experience of the world ends up as more disjointed and painful as a result. 

But in reality that same combination of perceptions means that I can navigate typically anxiety inducing conversations or experiences much more easily. My discomfort in discussions about the weather and what you did at the weekend is no different to other people’s discomfort with discussions surrounding death and sex… in the same way my ease with explicit consenting rough and tumble with a load of different naked bodies is no different to other people’s ease with handshakes. 

And on a more literal sense of ‘finding my threads’ it was so amazing to be able to go from rolling around in lycra yoga pants during the playfighting to wearing nothing but my leather harness in the evening. Honestly if that could be my entire wardrobe I’d be happy.


Seeing energy

I’ve written before about how I am often experiencing the world through a sense which exists between the visual and the physical. And wow did play fighting enable me to really lean into that way of navigating the world. Watching the energy exchanges between people helped me to really understand their vibe and got me really excited to engage with everyone. In contrast, in settings which rely heavily on spoken communication I can often get myself up in my head both worrying about not explaining myself properly or not being able to understand where someone is coming from, so I tend to hone in on one or two people I can feel safe with.

Given the overstimulation and meltdown in the morning, and my past experiences of spaces with lots of people, I’d expected to want to stick close to my partners throughout the night and to not find many other people attractive. But the opposite occurred. As a result of the playfighting, during the play party ice breakers and pair activities I was readily seeking out people with intriguing energies and confidently inviting them to engage with me in ways I often reserve only for close friends.

Consent and boundaries

As a highly sexual person who’s brain takes a while to properly connect with my body I have often found that I am far too late to realise when someone has overstepped my boundaries. I also find that the way I communicate my uncertainty or what feels like an outright ‘no thank you’ is often ignored by people repeatedly. I think much of this overstepping doesn’t just stem from misoginy within our society, but may also be connected to different neurotypes and cultural upbringings. But it is everyone’s responsibility to listen out for cues we might not be familiar with, practice patience and seek out emphatic yes’s when it comes to building intimate relationships.

I often have a ‘what-ing’ phase when first exploring an intimate connection with someone. Repeatedly asking things like ‘What are you thinking’, ‘What did that expression mean’ etc. in order to get to know their unique responses to pleasure or discomfort. But the facilitators and the other participants in the play fighting space and play party gave me much more inspiration for different ways of communicating and seeking consent.

The playfighting itself was a good way to practice this without heightened feelings of rejection. At the start of each fight you would sit opposite your opponent and state where and how you didn’t want to be touched, and the others would repeat the boundary to really sense check it and pay attention to what is being requested. I have since repeated this way of inviting boundary setting ahead of intimacy with a new partner by asking if there is anywhere someone does or doesn’t want to be touched. It not only helps everyone to feel safer that they’ve each been explicit but I also found hearing the responses to these questions really sexy. Being with someone that knows their body and is in control of how it can or can’t be touched makes me feel like so much more is possible, because I know where I stand and can get creative within the parameters they have set.

And this combination of both sexy and considerate communication played our beautifully towards the end of the play party as part of a sexual health conversation with someone and our respective partners but that really requires a whole other blog post. So watch this space for all the sexy details of dental dams in my next post on ‘Navigating sexual health within polyamory and open relationships’.

By the end of the evening I was absolutely buzzing about how safe the space had felt for me, and what that had in turn unlocked for me and my partners. Having experienced uncertainty, confusion or harm in most “normal” public spaces it was a complete joy and relief to realise that there are spaces like this where I can invite more feelings of safety and vibrancy into my life, and I learnt so much that I can take into non-sexual and non-physical spaces too.

The beautifully complex emotions of polyamory

One of the joys for me of being polyamorous is the incredibly unique human experiences and nuanced emotions that you experience as a result. It’s intense but being able to experience things that there are simply no words for, where you exist in a space beyond human imagination because no-one ever taught you that script, is liberating.

But with these feelings coming thick and fast as my polyamory grows and expands I thought it’d be a fun process to try to put words to just some of the things I have experienced and will continue to experience on this journey.

Melancholic contentment

Earlier this year I had my first experience of breaking up with a long-term partner while still being partnered with someone else. And while the break up was deeply saddening being able to process that with someone that loves you and who really knew the intricacies of the relationship you were mourning (to the point where they shared in the heartbreak somewhat) was an incredibly healing experience. It brought me and my partner closer together and it also felt like together we were able to give my past relationship the space, closure and respect it deserved.

“Flitty”

Compersion is a common term within Polyamory. But as an anxious person that struggles with knowing how to navigate uncertainty at times, while simultaneously loving adventure and being surprised by all the possibilities that life brings, experiencing my partners dating escapades at a distance brings juicy cocktail of feeling. It’s kind of an exhilarated hopeful fluttery feeling but with a good dose of nervous energy which makes it more flitty … I’ll never forget staying up all night when my partner was on a date and not being able to sleep contentedly until I knew that my partner and their date had had a safe and enjoyable sexual experience together.

Metaorgasmic knowing

Wow I can still feel the deep, loving desire and contentment I felt when two of my partners first kissed each other. And then when ever I heard of or saw them connecting intimately I’d get a kind of orgasmic feeling by proxy because I had experienced sexual desire and orgasms with both of them so had a deep sense of what the two of them would be experiencing together. Given that to each other my partners were originally one another metamours I feel like metaorgasmic describes the sensation I experienced perfectly.

Coupled magnetism

My partner has dated someone who has at times contacted us interchangeably, and someone I dated used to enjoy sex with us both because it felt like he was a massive part of me and that we were one big shared embodiment. I’m realising how affirming it is, and how whole and connected it makes me feel, when people see and enjoy the larger embodiment of me and my soul mates. In return the energy that gets sparked when you and one (or more) of your loved ones develop a deep shared desire for someone else  together brings this whole new layer to experiencing the ways energy and attraction moves. As a result you can start to experience things beyond your individual human form which in my experience unlocks something incredibly spiritual and magical.

Platonic desire

As I practice relationship anarchy the false lines around what type of attraction and connection is valid or approved disintegrate. And with the freedom to explore whatever possibilities I and others wish to I often find myself forming deeper bonds with my friends as I allow myself to feel sexually and intimately attracted at times, even if neither of us want it to lead to any actual physical intimacy. That desire makes me more interested in their sexual fulfilment and in turn it brings us many layers of new conversations to explore and creates a new kind of compersion for me as platonic connections explore their sexual sides with other people.

Gender fluid play

Gender is an incredibly fluid concept for me these days and fully embracing that within myself, and exploring that with my partners, is what has enabled me to be more deeply connected during sex, and shown me the expansive possibilities of all the different ways we can be intimate with one another.

I used to be fairly repulsed by penises. It is what made me first presume I must be a gay woman. But now I realise I was actually a non-binary person with a masculine side I'd been hiding from. And it was through sex with one of my current partners that I was finally able to fully acknowledge this.

Your dick or mine?

I’ve talked in the past about how sex took on an entirely new meaning when I met my partner. One of the things that was different with him, in comparison to other seemingly heterosexual sex I’d had in the past, was that he was willing to explore our bodies in ways that extended beyond the rigid forms of sex I’d been used to. I still remember the first time he slid his up alongside my clitoris from behind me and the feeling of rubbing it against me as if I had a penis myself. My pleasure at feeling like his penis was mine got us both excited to play around with it in different ways and we discovered there were so many ways for us both to experience pleasure from sharing his penis. Playing around with how I straddled him so that as he moved inside me it felt like I was actually moving inside him, or lying on our backs with our legs intertwined and periniums touching while I wank him off.

Sometimes we’ll become so deeply connected that when he ejaculates from blow jobs or hand jobs I feel the pleasure run all through me too to the point where I’m more satisfied than if my own body had climaxed. And he has experienced the same through my orgasms too.

Phantom penises

I joked in a polyamory WhatsApp group I’m part of that a ‘one penis policy’ is ridiculous because sometimes I feel like I have a phantom penis. And it turns out it wasn’t just a concept I was making up and one of the people in the group shared a lecture on the topic of ‘energy genitals’

One of my favourite things to do with my partners is to press my clitoris right up on his perineum or on my other partners vagina. Sometimes when we connect in this way we can intensely focus on the sensations and it feels like my penis is inside of them. The first time I got myself to the point of climax like this with my partner said it felt like his boyfriend had just come inside of him.

Sometimes my brain experiences dysphoria if it comes out of the fantasy. And I’ve had extreme emotional meltdowns during sex at times as a result. Its why sex toys like double ended dildos don't work too well for me. It feels less like an extension of my body and that can create a dysphoria which rips me out of the moment.

Endless combinations

It’s not just different ways of using our respective genitals and ‘energy genitals’ that has made our sex so fluid and expansive. My partner often says he feels like he’s in a polyamorous relationship just with me because of the different energies we bring into our relationship and sex. There are times when we can do exactly the same sexual acts but one time it feels like we are boyfriends and the next time it feels like we are girlfriends. We’ve had times where the energy between three of us during a threesome has meant my partner’s penis hasn’t been present at all, and other times where it has been a central feature. And outside of sex sitting with my arms around my boyfriends shoulders in the cinema when he’s in a a super camp vibe is an incredibly profound and wholesome experience for me. He’s over 6ft and I’m only just 5ft 5, but somehow I can feel big and sturdy during those times. And other times I feel tiny in comparison to him as I snuggle up in his chest.

The binary disconnects us all

One thing I’ve realised through exploring different gender roles in sex and relationships is that heteronormative cisgender sex and binary roles limits all of us - regardless of you gender or sexuality. Our human bodies are capable of so much more pleasure than what is handed to us through gendered roles. The rigidity of how men and women are supposed to achieve climax (or in many heteronormative relationships how just the man climaxes) limits our sensual experiences and our capacity to truly see all the layers of our human experiences.

What gender fluid play have you tried? Do you experience any dysphoria with parts of you during heteronormative sex? How has the binary limited your experiences in the past?

I’d love to chat more to people who are in the process of exploring their gender beyond the binary, whether it’s in relation to sex or not, so I might start a little gender non-conforming pleasure WhatsApp chat. DM me on my instagram if you are interested!

Seeing energy and the things unsaid

My partner went out on a date the other night and I absolutely loved every moment apart from one bit when I tried to visualise him enjoying himself with the person but had no visual reference map for creating this understanding in my head. In that one moment a huge shot of anxiety rushed through me, and started to send me on a spiral of fear. My brain felt it and filled in the gaps with intrusive thoughts. 

This happens a lot to me in all sorts of contexts, but it usually happens over the phone or in the presence of someone else, and as a result it has often been misinterpreted by others as anxious attachment or jealousy when it’s completed unrelated to that. (Don't get me wrong I do a lot of work around my anxious attachment and my jealousy so I'm not saying I don't have those things) In turn that misinterpretation leads to intense meltdowns because as an autistic person I am traumatised by all the times I haven't felt able to communicate my experiences to others / when people haven't understand the nuance of my thoughts and feelings.  

But for the first time I was able to pause in the moment and say to my brain "that's interesting that you need a visual reference to map this experience onto, why is that". And a FLOOD of memories and knowledge came rushing back which helped me to understand the beautiful layer of the world that my autistic brain operates within. 

Seeing connection or disconnection

Since I was young I have been confused by secrecy surrounding love and desire, or the opposite of that resentment and distance. Everything seemed to be unnecessarily clouded with pretence and I could never work out why, and it was that that creates anxiety within my brain. A simple example is that I had a boyfriend as a teenager who quite blatantly fancied one of my best friends. I never had a problem with the fancying, it was the fact they couldn't seem to speak it out loud or acknowledge it when it was right there in front of us and I didn't understand why it was something that needed to be silenced or obscured. When he eventually slept with her a few years later I wasn't hurt by the sex, I was hurt by the fact I didn't know or understand his reasons for keeping it secret, that he was actively trying to obscure something I could *literally* see and touch.

And the latter is where I now understand my experience of connection and disconnection is different from many. I literally see it and sense it in ways others do not. Not in a "bright visual colours dancing across the room" kind of way. But in a half physical, half visual kind of sense.

 Sometimes I see two people interact and there's so much visual buzz and sensations around them due to their connection that I either get buoyed by that energy and can join in on the flow, or I get sensorily overwhelmed and can't keep up with the "standard" stuff I'm meant to pay attention to like words and body language AND the giant whirring energy surrounding the pair. 

 Other times I can enter a room of full pain and resentment and the underlying energy makes it difficult for me to breathe or to look at people. Some people in that room think I'm the weird one for not being able to socialise or maintain eye contact, but I can't understand what game everyone is playing cos the "elephant" is very literally right in front of our faces. It is a physical and visual experience for me, it is not a metaphor. 

When people don't see what I see

What I realise now is that in many instances people aren't actively trying to obscure the truth or deny my experience - they simply don't see it. 

What this means is that I'm there either pointing something out that takes them by surprise (which some people absolutely love and others get defensive around) or I'm waiting for them to acknowledge things that they simply don't connect with. And when that doesn't happen I get anxious because I then feel like I'm existing in a more confusing space than I realised. 

Just to be clear I'm not talking about people having "different points of view" or "different beliefs". I've always enjoyed exploring those differences with others and enjoy it when other people's thoughts and interpretations challenge my thoughts and interpretations. What I'm talking about is a very real, physical and visual, type of sense and experience around the layer of energy that connects or disconnects. 

Why having no visual or physical map is a challenge 

This brings me back to my starting place. One of the ways I have coped with the energy that surrounds connection is by grounding it in more "common" senses. When I first dated my girlfriend, going out in public was a challenge because she didn't like physical touch. The only way for me to not be overwhelmed by the energy between, us combined with the energy in a busy restaurant, is to be physically touching the people my connection is with. Otherwise the energy from other connections becomes distracting or I become overwhelmed by the situation. 

In addition, it's why going to familiar places is useful when I don't know what the energy dynamic is going to be. If I have to navigate seeing all of this unspoken energy AND navigate a strange environment it's a challenge. If my sense of place is secure then I can engage with the energy layer easily. 

When me and my partner were long distance living we had this huge gigantic energy connection which spanned across my world and his world. I could feel that connection running all through me and around me. But it was so big that in order to manage and cope with it I needed to visualise it alongside the physical world. But sometimes that would come up against a barrier. I didn't know what much of his physical world looked like. So when we were talking on the phone in his living room and his daughter and her mum were in the next room I couldnt ground our connection or their connections in physical space. They were all just floating there filling my senses. I had no visual map to place the connections on. And I had no way of touching him to be able to focus on the words he was saying. 

While my partner and I do lots of things like sending each other videos of the spaces we are in before we speak or text, this isn't always a viable option (I wasn't going to to get him to send me pictures of his date for instance). 

I don't yet know the answers for managing these scenarios where my experiences of connection need grounding. Or where I'm feeling and navigating the sense of energy that others aren't. But what I know is that having this clearer understanding around how I experience the world will enable me to be less anxious.

When I'm overwhelmed by something that others don't see, or overwhelmed by trying to navigate the many sensory layers I experience without having a visual map to place them on, I now have the words to explain to parts of my brain or to other humans that “I'm not a weirdo, I just experience things differently and that's okay”. And that it’s not that people are always keeping things secret from me or trying to ignore the obvious energy layer that’s present, it's that I get to know and experience these beautiful layers before others even know they exist.

When love becomes a world of endless possibility

Some of the biggest myths within our society centre around love as a “finite” resource. That we need to 'settle down’; that it is inevitable that sex and intimacy dries up eventually in all relationships; that the presence of multiple loving relationships is a threat; that if someone gives the same love and attention they give to you to someone else it makes their love for you lesser; that we must sacrifice ourselves for love.

But over this past year or two I've discovered that love is endlessly expansive. And that relationships are only relationships if they are forever changing and morphing and growing - being shaped by and shaping the people who are part of them. We were told to ‘settle’ so we could be controlled by our capitalist, patriarchal society. So that we would be in constant deprivation of all the love, and therefore separate ourselves from each other and from our own bodies, and instead seek comfort in other non-human forms.

Each time I have sex with my partners it unlocks a new level of understanding, of peace, of clarity, of joy. And each time I feel like I could both do that act forever and am overwhelmed by how much more there is to still explore. There isn’t enough time within our lifetimes to explore the expansive possibilities of sex. Which is a world removed from how I used to understand sex. The world I used to be part of told me that sex shrunk over time and wasn’t meant to be the centre of our relationships. (Of course when I say ‘sex’ I’m meaning far more than just intercourse and foreplay - sex is so many things now that I know even if my health does not allow for physical sex there are other ways of creating these endless experiences together.)

Each time I see my partners give their love and attention to another, the love between us continues to grow and expand. I still have to wrestle with the myths I’ve been told, sure, but I am mostly overcome with pure joy that it is possible for them to love at these depths. I see our love in a new angle or light from witnessing their love. And their love and my love for others is made possible, in part, because of the expansiveness of our love. There isn’t enough time to experience every layer of love to it’s full depths.

And when you get to a place where you know that love and sex and connection is a world of endless possibilities; when you understand that there isn’t enough time to even experience all the things you know are possible (let alone the things you’ve not yet understood); you learn to enjoy and savour each gift that love brings to you. To the point where you are experiencing the most profound layers of it even in the most mundane moments. That is expansive love.

It sounds like a dreamworld as I write this. And it is to many extents. But living in this space of endless love is not necessarily a walk in the park. It’s not like you suddenly become a human that is free of the societal shackles, or where love trumps every pain and discomfort in your life. In many ways I find I feel pain in deeper and spikier ways now because every inch of my soul and body is open to receiving love. I still feel the wrath of societal shame for my choices and judgemental concern from people who don’t understand that my security now stems from love rather than fear. So much pain and hate still exists among all of us. Moving to a place where love is a world of endless possibility requires us all to journey there, and that is a long journey for sure.

But knowing that that journey is indeed possible and that the narrow stories about what love looks like or feels like were incorrect - and that I’m not sacrificing myself any more for love but instead that I am love, we are love, and it’s expansive beauty is staring us right in our faces - that gives me hope and comfort through everything.

Being polyamorous 'in principle' could unlock a lot more pleasure

I often say to my monogamous friends that the freedom to be polyamorous has actually made it a lot more possible for me to be monogamous if I ever wished to or needed to be. For me polyamory is very much like an orientation, it is part of who I am and extends well beyond sexual or romantic relationships. The fact that my partner, Nick, embraced every layer of my polyamory wholeheartedly meant that he was the first person to experience the entirety of me, and as a result the type of sex, communication and experiences we share fulfils a lot of my polyamorous nature.

Many people wrongly perceive polyamory as being about dating and sleeping with multiple people. I do have two partners and a few quite affectionate friends, but much to people’s disappointment my pansexual polyamorous self is actually very choosy when it comes to who I sleep with. Because when I can have all the pleasure in the world with my partner why would I want to just sleep with anyone?

So given that many monogamous people’s biggest fears is that polyamory or open relationships will lead to their partner leaving them, I want to share all the ways that being ‘polyamorous in principle’ might actually bring you closer together and create a more fulfilling relationship.

False lines create walls

Apparently in our society we are either friends, lovers or partners. Nothing in between because that’d be crossing a line. But surely those lines aren’t the same for everyone in every context. I could hold one person’s hand under the table and it could signal a deep desire, or I could hold someone else’s hand and it might just be for reassurance. I have had plenty of sex where it’s been flat and meaningless, but the way someone has made me laugh has got me thinking I’m falling in love with them.

When you constrain yourself to only talking about having feelings and attraction to one person you limit your capacity to connect authentically to others, and you limit what you share with your partner too.

When I first opened up my marriage the the most important thing that changed was my capacity to make deeply caring and affectionate friendships because there was no longer any fear from me or others about developing feelings. I could smile at someone, joke around, flirt, hold hands, give long embraces without it being cause for concern - and this meant I was simply more open with more people and made lots of new friends as a result.

And when I did catch feelings that felt more intimate it also meant I didn’t need to rush things if I didn’t want to. All too often someone has to make the choice between their long-term partner and someone they’ve developed a huge secret crush for or affair with. If we all decided to be more polyamorous up front you could build affectionate relationships openly, with your partners knowledge of it, and it'd actually reduce the risk that you’ll suddenly decide to leave.

Fantasising as a team sport

After a year of my current partner and I being polyamorous I’ve slept with one other person and he hasn’t slept with or dated anyone else at the moment. But being open to the possibilities means we discuss attractions and potential scenarios pretty much every other day. Whether it’s discussing what either or both of us like about someone we bump into in a cafe, talking about imaginary (but possible) scenarios like one of us dating a woman who was seeking to have children or accidentally sleeping with someone we didn’t realise was a little misogynistic, or running full blown detailed accounts of what we hope will happen on an upcoming date or holiday with someone. When we fantasise together we learn so much more about the other person. We get to witness and enjoy each others faces when we say something unexpected, or delight in the way one another talks about people they fancy.

Through fantasying together we deepen our relationship and we get to conjure all the feelings. And even though I’m going to be over the moon when my partner or I find other people we share love and intimacy with, the pleasure that fantasizing brings to our every day conversation can actually be just as good as if the real thing happened.

Jealousy helps us identify our needs

Funnily enough the most jealous I’ve been when my partner and I have talked about other people was not actually anything to do with people he wanted to sleep with or had slept with in the past. Instead it was to do with his breathwork training. At the root of my jealousy were feelings of inadequacy. When he was doing a transformational breathing session I wanted to be able to experience it with him but found breath work challenging and traumatising - we resolved this by asking for me to watch the session. A few weeks later he wanted to run a session with a whole load of new people and I was triggered again, so I dug a bit deeper. What I I found was that there were a whole load of other stuff going on in my life that I wanted attention from him around - it was completely unrelated to him meeting new people or doing something he enjoyed - I just needed more affection and reassurance as I navigated some challenging things in my own life and I hadn’t worked out how to vocalise that properly.

I’m actually learning to enjoy experiencing jealousy now because it helps me to see and communicate more of what I feel I need, rather than letting it bubble away under the surface. Jealousy keeps me alert around my insecurities and helps me to become a more confident person. It isn’t something to fear, or to use to stop your partner from doing something that brings them joy, but you can both work to understand where it’s coming from and try to transform the experience of it together.

Communication that keeps you connected

Whether it’s fantasising together, working out what different layers of different relationships mean, processing jealousy, or simply navigating the logistics of your calendars; being polyamorous requires a lot of communication. If people saw the amount my partners and I communicated they might find it a bit overwhelming, but we make the most of every single moment of time together. There’s no repetitive evenings full up with hours of endless TV shows or work emails. Instead we are experiencing every moment together: chatting, cooking, eating, having sex, planning trips and dates, and of course encouraging each other to take lots of time for ourselves to recharge too.

Through this our communication is continuous and clear as it can be as our world expands and we bring more into our lives. Each step of the way we help each other process challenging things, and we spend time savouring all of the pleasurable moments through talking and reflecting on them.

Falling in love over and over again

With so much to discuss together, and so many opportunities for others to shine a light on the parts of your partner that are attractive, I find myself falling in love with each of my partners over and over again. In fact when the two of them talk to me about one another I often find myself seeing both of them with fresh eyes each time. I still remember one of the first times I went out with the two of them at the same time, watching them laugh and joke almost exploded my heart with how much love there could be within that room. So you may be monogamous in practice, but allowing yourself to fall a little more in love with others, and letting others fall a little bit in love with you, has so much potential to expand the love you share with your partner beyond what you thought was possible.

All the resources: 9 questions to improve your sexual experiences

This is a TLDR (too long didn’t read) version of this blog post - sharing simply the questions you might want to explore around your sex life and a set of resources and content I’d recommend!

1. What is your current sexuality?

2. What is your relationship with orgasms?

3. What are your pleasure spots?

4. What are your yes, no’s, maybes?

5. What are your communication needs and styles?

6. What heightens or dulls your senses?

7. What trauma have you experienced and how might surface in sex?

8. What are your fantasies and how can you interpret those?

  • And just for fun I absolutely LOVE this ADHD Erotica idea from @RemodeledLove

9. What is sex to you?

9 questions to improve your sexual experiences

At the start of 2021, in spite of being sexually active for most of my life, I put a pause on my sex life. I came out as a rape survivor, I questioned my sexual orientation endlessly, I fell deeply for someone other than my spouse. At this point we decided to open up our marriage but after a few exciting but fleeting attractions I resigned myself to the fact that I would only experience deep sexual pleasure with myself. Love was messy, my attraction seemed complicated, and with two young kids it felt selfish and painful to be pursuing anything more than the occasional awkward fling.

So instead I spent most of the year focussing on other pursuits that brought me joy, such as learning to DJ and growing my business, both of which gave me space to heal and really know myself. I was happy in my own company and was prepared to keep building my independence.

Until one day everything changed. I sparked a whirlwind connection with someone I’d only ever met through work zoom calls and on our first date we slept together in a hotel room in the middle of the afternoon and told each other we were deeply in love. It was the most intimate and spiritual experience I’d ever had, and from that day on it has only continued to expand - sex had become an entirely different thing and there was no going back.

Now, with a year of deep and transformational pleasure under my belt (and the tools I’ve learnt from navigating multiple sexual relationships during this time) I want to support other people to access the endless possibilities of sex and intimacy.

Whether you are partnered or single, this post provides 9 questions/conversation starters, along with examples and resources, that can help you to explore more of what you want, need and desire when it comes to sex. If you don’t want to read the in depth version you can skip to a list of questions and resources here. And if you benefit from this content please buy me a virtual coffee!


1. What is your current sexuality?

One of the biggest shifts for me with sex and intimacy was learning how to define and redefine my sexuality at any given point in time. These days I generally identify as a pansexual polyamorous switch non-binary person, but my queerness and gender is fluid, and my relationship with sex is different with different people at different points in time.

Even if you identify as a cis heterosexual person (or perhaps especially so?), I believe a healthy sex life requires you to be open to fluidity, and to think consciously about where you are on various spectrums in order to feel fulfilled sexually. Just because you are feminine and attracted to men, doesn't mean you can't enjoy experiencing being more dominant at times. If you are a queer person in a monogamous heternormative relationship, it doesn’t mean that you won’t want to/can’t engage in queer sex with your partner. And even if you don't generally identify with terms like asexual or demisexual it doesn't mean you won't find yourself in a period of your life where you find sexual intercourse entirely unappealing - and learning to communicate that is key if you don’t want to have bad experiences.

Resources to explore

2. What is your relationship with orgasms?

When I’ve asked female friends of mine this question they often struggle to answer it. And it's no surprise given the dominant narratives around orgasm in our society is that it should centre around male ejaculation. But the possibilities around orgasm / climax are endless, while it may also be entirely unnecessary for some people too.

When me and my boyfriend first had sex neither of us climaxed but we spent three hours enjoying each others bodies. We talked about it during and afterwards, to make sure we both felt satisfied. Since then I’ll regularly experience multiple orgasms. I've experienced "male" orgasms, he's experienced "female" orgasms. I've orgasmed fully clothed just through kissing. I've felt like the whole world orgasm at once when I first truly experienced penetrative orgasms. He's orgasmed from me experiencing pleasure, while I've felt like I was making myself ejaculate when I was giving him a blowjob. We discuss our orgasms after each experience, to learn what happened to our bodies and know what we might want to put into practice in the future.

But it might not all be pure ecstasy and pleasure. For example I have a specific relationship with giving myself orgasms: I used to masterbate 5 times a day because as someone with ADHD orgasms are often the only way I can reduce overwhelm and stress. And meanwhile there are millions of people like Nancy Stokes who have never been able to achieve climax, even through masturbation.

As you can tell there is so so much to discuss! So try talk in depth with yourself, your partners, your friends about what your relationship is with orgasms. You might unlock more pleasure for everyone, even if it’s just better conversation than the weather!

Resources to explore

3. What are your pleasure spots?

As mentioned earlier I've orgasmed fully clothed just through kissing. We only discovered this because of a health condition that meant I couldnt have intercourse for a while. But there might be specific areas of your body that send shivers down your spine or get the good juices flowing. Areas which might not be orgasmic but bring you just as much pleasure. For instance, I have a point on my head that when scratched makes me go all wobbly - one of my partners calls it my kitten spot.

There are many reasons why engaging in sexual intercourse might not always be right for you. And exploring your body to understand what pleasure looks like, rather than simply racing to climax, might be just as rewarding to you and your partner(s).

Resources to explore

4. What are your yes, no’s, maybes?

All too often we get stuck in sexual scripts and routines that have always worked or feel safe enough. And many of us simply learn to mirror what is deemed as ‘acceptable’ in wider society. Spending time thinking about all the possible ways you could give and receive pleasure, and actively categorising them as something you are or aren’t willing to explore can help you broaden your sexual horizon.

And if there’s something on a partner’s ‘No’ list, that’s on your ‘Yes’ list that doesn’t need to feel shameful or limiting. We all have different desires and it can be empowering to know up front where your respective lines are. Plus if they see something that you want to explore that they haven’t felt able to voice in the past they might be up for going on that adventure with you.

Resources to explore

5. What are your communication needs and styles?

If you are engaging in sex and intimacy I hope with all my heart that you and all of your partners understand the basics of consent - if it’s not a clear YES, then take it as a No. But there is a hell of a lot more communication that is needed for a healthy sex life than basic consent. If you struggle to communicate verbally you might want to find ways of showing your partner what you like, or asking your partner to show you things. On the flip side, if you are like me you might struggle to read body language and facial expressions, so I often want my partners to tell me verbally what they enjoy and when they are feeling uncomfortable to ensure I don’t misinterpret things.

Resources to explore

6. What heightens or dulls your senses?

One of the reasons I didn't have access to deeply enjoyable and sensual sex before was because I struggled to be there in my body. I might’ve been whirring through thoughts in my head with anxiety, or completely absent due to the fact I may have experienced a trauma trigger. Once I understood this I could put in place things which would keep be grounded and focussed on the joys of the experience. In addition as a neurodivergent person I understand now that I can be overstimulated to the point where sometimes my senses need to be calmed. Music is key to me feeling relaxed within my body so playlists are a big turn on for me. In addition my partner introduced me to breath work which can both calm my body, and make space for a heightened physical sensations when we come to having sex.

Resources to explore

7. What trauma have you experienced and how might surface in sex?

We have all experienced some trauma when it comes to sex and intimacy. Whether it’s an embarrassing moment that brings about fleeting feelings of shame and fears of rejection, or a much deeper wound that requires a lot of time and care to heal. It can feel scary to confront and talk about, particularly early on in a relationship, or when the trauma happened a long time ago. But as I started to regularly process my trauma responses with my partner we built a deeper connection and we actually learnt how together how to use sex to rewire and heal my painful experiences from the past.

Resources to explore

8. What are your fantasies and how can you interpret those?

One of the big things I often say about polyamory is that the openness to ‘the possibility’ has actually created the conditions to be entirely happy and fulfilled in a monogamous relationship if I wanted to be. Because it is okay for me and my partners to fantasise about other people we often find that actually we can get plenty of fulfilment simply through discussing what those fantasies mean to us, what it is that turns us on and how we can seek more of that within our relationship together.

Because we live in such a sex negative society many of us are too fearful to even fantasise about what’s possible and what we'd find desirable. But there’s no harm in fantasizing, and understanding what drives those fantasies can actually bring you closer to yourself and your sexual partner(s)

Resources to explore

  • And just for fun I absolutely LOVE this ADHD Erotica idea from @RemodeledLove

9. What is sex to you?

With sex being so astoundingly taboo in our society - and when it does only very narrow, heteronormative styles of sex dominating the mainstream media - it’s no wonder many of us have such limited enjoyment from sex.

For me sex extends well beyond intercourse and foreplay. I’ve had conversations with friends that have felt more intimate, sexy and pleasurable than a full-blown orgasm. And it was only when I no longer desperately sought a particular type of sex, that my experiences expanded beyond belief. Sex is limitless in my book. It helps me and my partner to process tricky topics, it unlocks entire worlds and new sensations, I feel continuous excitement of the never-ending possibilities of things to try and explore!

And when sex can be talked about freely among friends and partners we can all learn from each other, understand our healthy and unhealthy habits around it, practice communicating our boundaries, and benefit from more people who are actively concerned about our pleasure!

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