The thriving survivor
Sex, pleasure and why I’m self centred
I was asked to speak at the What Were You Wearing Ball this week. This is my speech - more or less as delivered :)
I’m Jayne.
My pronouns are she and they.
I’m a sexologist and public health professional. Sexology as many of you may know is the scientific study of human sexuality. So I like to say I’m a sex scientist.
I work at the uni in the primary prevention of sexual assault and sexual harassment.
I’m an advocate for continuous and comprehensive sex-positive relationships and sex education for all people, from birth to death.
I’m a pansexual, self-partnered woman who was once affectionately referred to as ‘Jedi-level Tinder’ by one of my favourite girlfriends.
I am a proud, thriving survivor of sexual, gendered and intimate partner violence.
And I’m unapologetically self-centred.
Let me tell you why.
I was born in 1969. The year of the Stonewall Riots and smack bang in the middle of the so-called ‘sexual revolution’ – the time known for the unshackling of sexual pleasure from reproduction.
Really, is it any wonder I became a sexologist?
However, for all the cultural shifts that occurred as part of the sexual revolution, the dismantling of the patriarchy was not one, as we all clearly know, living within it as we do to this very day.
And what this means is that, while discourse about sexual rights and pleasure for people who were not heterosexual men started to gain some traction in the 60s, patriarchal structures ensured that this discourse did not carry through completely into the culture.
Professor Michelle Fine’s seminal work “Sexuality, Schooling, and Adolescent Females: The Missing Discourse of Desire” which was published in 1988, unpacks the multiple ways in which female desire and pleasure was absent from sex education at the time, resulting in – to quote – ‘an anti-sex rhetoric’ that served to increase the vulnerability of young women to experiences of sexual violence, unwanted pregnancies and other sexual and reproductive harms.
Comprehensive relationships and sex education in Australia is still inconsistent depending on multiple factors such as location, religion and resourcing. But this year’s implementation of mandatory consent education in schools across Australia is thanks to the work of organisations like Teach Us Consent, with the ongoing support of activist and advocacy groups like What Were You Wearing who ensure the spotlight is never taken away from issues of sexual and gendered violence.
And so we know from the evidence that not educating children and young people about pleasure as part of comprehensive relationships and sex education is not only an oversight, it is actively detrimental and potentially harmful to anyone who is not, basically, a straight, white cis-gendered man. Because if we don’t understand pleasure, we don’t know how to advocate for the sex we deserve, for sex which is safe, for sex which is fulfilling, satisfying and life affirming.
It’s something I bring into conversations I have with young people either as a sex educator or simply as the somewhat unconventional older person who found their way into sexology and loves chatting about sex to anyone who wants to have the conversation.
Because not only is pleasure one of the key purposes of sexual expression, but it’s something I believe we need to talk about every time we talk about consent.
When we talk about affirmative consent many people think it means enthusiastic consent – and I love this. Consent MUST be enthusiastic. But within the legal definition, affirmative consent means that a person must actively seek consent to sexual activity with another or others, continuously and without coercion, manipulation or force.
Obviously, I am one thousand percent in support of affirmative consent, of folks actively seeking a ‘yes’ to every physically intimate act with others, and of people checking in every time they enter the precious personal, emotional and bodily spaces of others.
But I want us to go one step further. If we sexually engage with others – and I would like to acknowledge here that not everyone chooses to have sex – shoutout to our Ace friends! – but if we do, it should feel good! Sex is MEANT to feel amazing, and if it doesn’t you’ve missed the point.
Of course this includes an almost infinite number of sexual practices and behaviours - giving, receiving, playing, role-playing, cuddling, canoodling or having fun at a glory hole. As long as it genuinely and authentically feels, quite simply, wonderful at its core.
And so when we seek consent the question shouldn’t only be ‘Can I do this?” it should be ‘Do you like this?” and it should also be “Does this feel good?” and “What can I do – or not do - so that you feel fabulous? So that we can feel fabulous together?”
The very best consent promo tagline in my opinion is the one that says: “If it’s not a fuck yes it’s a fuck no”.
The World Association for Sexual Health originally proclaimed the DECLARATION OF SEXUAL RIGHTS in 1997, revised it in 1999 and reaffirmed it in 2008. It’s a beautiful document, and if you have not read it I highly encourage you to do so.
I would like to quote just a little from it to show how pleasure is woven into our sexual rights.
“The Declaration of Sexual Rights STATES that sexual rights are grounded in universal human rights.
It REAFFIRMS that sexuality is a central aspect of being human throughout life, and encompasses sex, gender identities and roles, sexual orientation, eroticism, pleasure, intimacy, and reproduction.
It RECOGNIZES that sexuality is a source of pleasure and wellbeing and contributes to overall fulfillment and satisfaction.
And it states that sexual health requires a positive and respectful approach to sexuality and sexual relationships, as well as the possibility of having pleasurable and safe sexual experiences, free of coercion, discrimination and violence.”
And so, it’s clear. Sexual pleasure is a human right. Plain and simple.
Which brings me back to why I’m self-centred.
Despite having experienced sexual harm, the fear of sexual harm, intimate partner violence and gendered violence across my life – from some of my earliest memories right down to a couple of weeks ago when I was aggressively catcalled on a Sunday afternoon as I walked from Merewether to Bar Beach - I still have an unshakeable belief in my right to a fulfilling sex life.
As survivors, a huge part of our healing is reclaiming the things that were taken from us. Our sense of safety. Our sense of bodily autonomy. Our sense of being loveable. Our right to wholeheartedly feel and express pleasure.
I’ve done this on my own healing journey by placing myself in the centre – my practice of self-centredness.
In my darkest days a good friend reminded me of the oxygen mask in an aeroplane and how adults are told they must use the mask first before they give it to any children in their care.
On the surface this feels counterintuitive, and selfish. But it’s quite simple, if we are not strong and thriving, we can’t be there to support others when they need us.
And so I have made this my own survival mission – to be strong first, so I can be strong for those I love and those I may be able to support. I do this by centring myself, by being self-centred. And I do this in a variety of ways, some of them you will probably have heard of.
Self-love, of course and self-care. They’re givens. But have you heard of self-compassion? That one’s been a game changer for me. Showing myself the sort of kindness I show to others when they are feeling down on themselves.
What about self-romance? A sneaky Friday night self-date with candles and flowers and a fabulous meal? Yes please!
Being self-partnered? I LOVE doing life with me.
And of course, self-pleasure. Something I make time for regularly. Because fuck yes!
I believe that when we can do these things for ourselves not only are we more able to offer them back to others if we choose, but we also find that at the centre of our world is a person who will always keep us safe – ourselves.
And so I encourage you to embrace self- pleasure, embrace self-compassion, and embrace self-care. Because when you’re unapologetically self-centred you just might find you become the love of your own life.
And that’s a pleasure I hope you all get to experience.