As a sex educator, I don't define sex as only being about penis-in-vagina intercourse, for a whole lot of reasons.
For one, I know that a lot of people (including myself sometimes!) have or have had satisfying, full sexual lives without intercourse, either because they're not at intercourse yet in life or a given relationship, it's off the table for a while for some reason, or because they're in relationships where penis-in-vagina sex just isn't an option or possibility in the first place. I also know, as a sex educator, that some or all of the physical and emotional things that can happen with penis-in-vagina intercourse can and typically do happen with other kinds of sex, whether we're talking about emotional feelings or experiences, the human sexual response cycle, the expression of sexuality in general or possible outcomes like STIs or pregnancy. The way I define sex as a sex educator is like so:
If we say someone is having sex, or doing something sexual, we mean they are acting from their sexuality, looking to express it in action and/or to try and actively experience or explore a feeling of general or specific sexual desire, curiosity and/or satisfaction. When we say "sex," what we mean is any number of different things people may freely choose to do to tangibly and actively express or enact their sexuality; from what they identify or know to be their sexual feelings.
If "sex" was the answer, the questions would be things like "What am I doing to try and feel good sexually or to express feeling good sexually? What am I doing that feels sexual to me (or to me and a partner)? What am I doing that feels like a way to express my sexuality, or my sexual desires and/or feelings about myself or others?"
From the perspective of a health educator, it also doesn't matter what people are or aren't calling sex, and I don't even have to know what it is or what they call it. For instance, whether it's due to rape or other sexual assault, consensual sex or sex-we're-not-calling-sex, direct genital-to-genital contact or fluid sharing between someone with a penis and someone with a vagina can always present potential STI or pregnancy risks. How that contact happened or what someone calls it doesn't change that: viruses, bacteria, parasites or sperm or egg cells are going to do their thing regardless of what words we use for events, behaviors or activities where they can or do come into play.
But what I also know from doing my job with young people, especially over the last ten years or so, it that how I see and frame sex as a sexuality and sexual health educator and worker isn't how plenty of people do. I know that more than quite a few young people are engaging in what, in my view, is sex, but, in their view or definition, is not.
I'm also aware there can be a generational gap with some of this, as well as all of this having a different weight for a young person. For a lot of older adults, things "counting" as sex isn't often as loaded as it can be when you're a younger person, especially a young woman or a young religious person whose religion says having sex in some of the contexts where you are is a big no-no. Someone like me is way less likely to experience -- or, and perhaps more to the point, way less likely to care about -- social judgments about what kind of sex I'm having, when and with whom. I'm also less likely to feel the same kind of sting from some of the social consequences that can happen when you have sex that "counts" as sex to most people or yourself and are a young person right now.
I'm in my 40s. How things were socially and culturally as a young person when it came to sex were very different for me than for many teens and 20-somethings now. I came of age urban, queer, and with an oh-sod-off-all-you-haters sign perpetually looped around my neck. The cultural climate around premarital sex or sex outside marriage was very different, including for all the teens and 20-somethings in my circles. The idea that sex wasn't okay outside marriage or long-term relationships just wasn't one that was any part of my community or social scene, and even in the mainstream, while it was out there, it was pretty fringe. I also grew up bearing some nasty stigma from a grandparent about having been conceived out of wedlock myself, and saw how much that hurt me and my parents, so those attitudes were extra unwelcome.
If at 17, someone had said to me, "I don't think we should have sex until marriage. How about we go down on each other?" It would have sounded a lot like "I don't want to eat anything right now. Whaddya say we have a sandwich?" The title of this piece alone would've had my head spinning for days while I tried to make sense of it (and I might have asked if it was an Orwell quote I didn't recognize). But I know that for some of you, it might not even give you pause, or some of what I'm saying here may sound to you like what I'm saying doesn't make any sense.
It's not my place -- in fact, it's on me to make sure I don't -- to tell any of you what kind of sex is or isn't right for you, uniquely, in any given model or situation. It's my place to try and help you figure that out for yourselves when you ask for my help, but ultimately, it's on you to figure your own choices out for yourselves.
Here's the thing, though: if and when you don't want to take certain risks -- physically or emotionally -- or open yourself or others up to certain experiences, and you're doing the things which put you in those positions, what I can't do, especially if I'm to serve you well in that way, is pretend something isn't something it is. I also can't do my job well and ignore all of the people I talk with, see, or read about in sound studies who are having whatever kinds of sex they aren't calling sex and taking pregnancy risks when they don't want to, winding up pregnant when that is the last thing they want or feel able to deal with, picking up or passing on sexually transmitted infections or taking those risks when they want to avoid STIs, not doing consent well or at all, or having emotional interactions, experiences our outcomes -- negative or even otherwise -- they or any partners don't feel okay about, don't feel ready for or don't want themselves or partners to be having. Rock, meet hard place.
On top of all of that, we've also been noticing something with some of our users now that's happened often enough that I think it's important to mention. It goes something like this: two people, pretty much always a guy and a girl, begin a relationship. One of them puts on the table, sometimes right from the start, that they want to save sex for marriage. The other person likes that idea, feels good about it, and agrees. Sometimes, that other person wanted that on their own already and is relieved to hear a boyfriend or girlfriend say they do, too. They might also feel really glad that first person said that and set that limit, all the more so if they wanted that limit, too, and didn't want to be the person to put it out there first.
But soon enough, sometimes awfully fast (heck, last week we had someone who had a boyfriend say he wanted to save sex for marriage while he had his hand inside her pants), that person that said no sex until marriage starts trying to pursue or is asking for some kinds of sex, like manual sex (fingering or hand jobs), oral sex or anal sex. They may work on convincing the other person on all the reasons why those kinds of sex aren't really sex or don't count. Or, it might all be -- as it often seems to be -- very or totally unspoken, with little to no conversation or communication, including when it comes to consent, around it at all. This kind of dynamic can also happen when someone agrees to the no-sex sitch but really didn't want to, and figures the other person will change their mind soon enough or, worse still that they can wear that person down.
Sometimes it happens that both people do this pretty mutually, or totally mutually, and everybody feels fine about everything so long as they're not calling the kinds of sex they're having sex and people around them aren't either. That's not what I'm talking about here. As I've said, that can certainly be problematic on many levels in it's own way, as pretty much any kind of shared denial with big stuff can be, but not as problematic as one of these kinds of scenarios, where the people involved really aren't in the same place. I'm concerned about this kind of scenario, more so than the other, for a few reasons.
For one, I think the hard truth is that sometimes, perhaps even often, this is a line. In other words, I think that someone is saying this when they know or suspect it's what the other person wants to hear but not what they actually intend, or when they think the other person will hear this as a signal of respect when, in fact, it's only something they're saying to try and make it easier to be sexual with that person, or be let into vulnerable spaces with that person they wouldn't trust the to come into otherwise. And for sure, that's going to be hard to see when it's happening because saying they don't want to have sex with you as a way to do exactly that is one heck of a sneaky, flippety-floppy play.
As well, conversations about any of this "other" sex often don't seem to happen, probably because neither person wants to say out loud it IS sex, for an array of different reasons, including that if it gets spoken out loud, someone who wasn't saying no and was just going along then might draw a line. So, you've got one or both people doing things without talking about them, including talking about conflicts one of them is usually feeling.
I'm also concerned because often, when we see how these situations like this play out, what often is happening is very questionably consensual or even explicitly nonconsensual. And let's be real: if someone is convinced by someone else that something isn't sex, and they give consent to sex ONLY because they've been convinced that isn't what it is, that's not consent.
Too, while this isn't only something guys can do to girls, and probably is something girls might do too, we can't ignore the fact that within conservative circles or mores, it's very common for people to have the idea that women are supposed to be passive in sex, in or out of marriage, that sex soils or sullies women -- and only women -- in some way, and that men and their sexuality also need to be controlled by women, so if sex is going on, it's because the woman involved didn't do her duty of controlling the guy in question. When things like that are in people's heads in a situation like this -- and with this whole business of engaging in sex that no one wants to call sex in general -- it can be way too easy for people to think that things like a lack of consent or a lack of active consent and participation in sex are normal, or how things just are, rather than how they just happen to be going because of this kind of setup.
I've got some basic advice if a situation like this is happening for you, whatever side of it you're on. This advice also all goes for choosing to be involved in not-sex, not-really-sex, or not-quite-sex, whatever you or someone else is choosing to call it, that, for all intents and purposes, is sex.
1. If you or anyone else is saying they don't want to have sex before marriage, in general or in your relationship, don't guess at or assume what that means. Explain what you mean, and/or ask what they mean by that or understand that to mean: every possible kind of sex or only some kinds of sex? What's their story with what they want in terms of this? Is it about religious beliefs, and if so, what are those beliefs? Is it about some level of commitment they feel they want and need for themselves? If so, what's that? Talk about these wants, needs and ideas together in depth, before making any agreements and before engaging in any kind of physical intimacy together you wouldn't engage in with, say, your best friend. Anytime we make big agreements in life, whether that's about sex, a job contract or a mortgage, we need our agreements to be very clear not murky.
After you've each really got a sense of what the other does and doesn't want and why, if it does NOT sound like it's going to be a good fit -- like, you either know you don't want to "save" sex for marriage or know you aren't okay with kinds of sex before it they are -- I suggest you just opt out. Not everyone is the right fit for each other in relationships, period or at a certain time. That can be a bummer, but it's also okay: it's just how dating and relationships go. If you do try and have this kind of relationship when each of your limits and boundaries, as well as your general wants, are not in real alignment, it's usually going to result in some serious awful.
If after these talks, you ARE in alignment, cool beans. See #2.
2. Let's say you've already had that talk above so you know what the agreements and limits are, and you're both all good. But, in whatever amount of time, either you start to feel differently, they do, or one of you is acting like you feel differently by putting kinds of sex on the table, or even pushing for them in some way, that were originally off the table. If and when your feelings feel like they're changing, talk about them. I know it can be scary, but I think it's much more scary for these things to be hidden, or for someone to just feel dragged along into a sex life they really don't want or don't feel right about. If no-sex-until-marriage is something you or the other person wanted, this is all probably a pretty big deal.
You might find that over time, one or both of you does find your feelings change. They might both change in the same ways. Or, they might change in ways where you find you don't still want the same things at all. Again, that can stink, but hey, people and relationships change over time all the time, especially during times of life when people are doing a lot of growing and changing. It's always better to move on from, end or change the nature of a relationship to fit who the people in it feel they truly are, at their core, than for anyone to try and be a person they don't want to be to hang unto something.
3. Be real and stay real with yourself about what you do and don't want, are and are not okay with. There are no universally right or wrong sexual choices when it comes to what's consensual: there's just what's right or wrong for individual people and their unique relationships at a given time.
If you feel like you can't be real with you in that way, take some time to figure out why. Maybe your values or beliefs are changing and you do feel differently about engaging in sex than you did before: that happens. Again, this is life: we all grow and change in some ways over time.
Realistically, few people will actively choose not to engage in any kind of sex, including genital intercourse of any kind, until marriage. In the last hundred years in the western world, only around 5% of people have, and worldwide it's also atypical, especially for men or for women who don't get married as very young teens or as children. That does not mean that there's something wrong with you wanting that, sticking to that ideal, or that you can't have that if you want. There are billions of people in the world, so even though 5% doesn't sound like a lot of people, that's still almost half a billion people. You can choose to stick to that and seek that out if that's what you want, and should absolutely be supported in that by people in your life if it is. At the same time, it's safe to say that for plenty of people who felt this way once, they found their values or feelings changed. And that's okay, too, if that's what happens for you. (I know there are people who say it isn't okay, but I'm just not those people.)
It also happens that a person's feelings or values are not changing, but they feel unable to stand up for themselves and who they are with people who want to have sex with them. Some people have sex they don't feel right about to try and keep from being alone, to keep a relationship from ending, or to avoid social stigma. Some people don't want to talk about sex they're having with someone with that person because they worry that once it's spoken, that person will say no (hopefully we don't have to tell you why that's a problem, but if we do, know that's a problem because that means you're trying to control the other person's consent).
Just take stock, the real kind, even if you don't like the answers or you find them uncomfortable. Then own them and make your own best choices from them, communicating openly and honestly about all of this with anyone else involved. If you feel like you are in a spot where you're having to make choices before you can sort out changed feelings, step away and give yourself whatever time you need to process.
In general, we always want to try and keep in very good touch with our own sexual and relationship wants and values and make our sexual choices in alignment with those wants, don't-wants and values: that usually plays a big part in any of us having sexual lives we feel best about. It can be all too easy sometimes to let someone else make all the rules, to both be the only person setting limits, and the only person also being active, especially if and when we might not want to own any responsibility for our choices, pr when we don't truly feel like we'll be respected and accepted for who we are and want to be.
4. If even the idea of saying any of these things out loud and talking about them -- or even thinking about them! -- feels like the worst thing you could possibly do, or like something you would do anything to avoid, know that something is seriously amiss. Know that probably means it's even more important you think and talk about them. If that is just absolutely terrifying, do yourself two favors: 1) get away from any situations where you have to make choices you're clearly not ready to deal with yet, and 2) ask for some help from someone you trust who also isn't someone who wants to have sex with you.
I hope it's a given that if you have found yourself in a situation where you think someone is using no-sex-before-marriage stuff as a route to do exactly that with you, you can recognize that's a person trying to manipulate you you will want to get clear of. I know that's sometimes way more complicated than it sounds, but it's still important to do. Someone trying to manipulate us sexually just isn't safe or okay for us, in or out of marriage.
I'll leave you with a handful of links around some of this stuff, some advice pieces where these things come into play, and then a couple articles that might give you or someone you know trying to manage these frameworks or dynamics some extra helps. We can certainly also talk about this some more in the comments or on the boards, and I'd certainly be interested in thoughts from our readers on this one, especially if they've been here themselves.
I'm Asexual and currently engaged in a romantic relationship with a woman. She really wants to have sex, I'm not really into it. We've done other things I really like, like making out and heaving petting. How do I tell her that I don't want to sleep with her without making her feel inferior, undesirable and bad about herself? I'm scared to hurt her. Should I just compromise and sleep with her?
My 15 year old son has a first girlfriend who is a year older. My concern is that she lives with her dad only and quite often is home alone. My son has been there twice already and one time I made him leave because the dad was not home. I am besides myself about how to handle this. He said that he is not going to have sex with her but you know how that goes. I know what I was doing at 15. Do I make condoms available? But that would be condoning it. I will have a talk with the girl about not hanging at her house. They are always welcome at mine and I will try to speak to her dad about it.
I don't mean to ask a silly question, but is there anything that makes being female good in terms of sex? It seems to me men have all the biological luck - they are aroused more easily, they orgasm more frequently, they can orgasm regularly from both oral/manipulative sex and intercourse, their is more square inches of erectile tissue to play around with, etc. I often listen to my guy friends talk, and lately it has been making me feel very inferior. Is there anything going for us?
I've been in a relationship with my current boyfriend for a year now, and we've been having sexual intercourse for around 8 months. Throughout this time, I have NEVER reached an orgasm through sex, but because I thought I was the weird abnormal one, and was afraid of how my boyfriend may react, I since have faked it every single time which we have had sex. Sex is alright, but I now just want to tell him. But how do I explain to him that this isn't his fault without him being hurt and upset? Please help me because I really don't know what to do!
We're just getting caught up with the myriad of fantastic blog entries that are part of the blog carnival that's been going on over the last three weeks as an effort to help cultivate support for Scarleteen. We've been reprinting some entries here at our blog, and will keep up with that, but here are a handful we can link right to for you to take a look at:
From Cory Silverberg at About.Com:
Scarleteen does sex education from a social justice model. Whether it's an article on the site, a response in the forums, or a request for more information in order to refer a youth out, they acknowledge the multiple ways that youth are systemically denied basic rights and access to sex education and sexual health. It's not unusual for a question about, say contraception or sexual pleasure, to elicit an answer that accessibly and seamlessness weaves information about race, class, and gender, in with information about how to go about choosing and accessing contraception, or negotiating with a partner to have sex that feels good. Scarleteen never addresses sexual health in isolation, and in this way helps its users develop their own, more integrated understanding and experience of sexual health.
Scarleteen is beholden to youth who use their service, not funders who pay for it. This is mostly because Scarleteen has no major government or corporate sponsors. Their funding comes from individuals like me and you. There are pros and cons to this situation, but what it means is that the services they deliver are developed in direct response to what youth want, and not in response to what services might get funded. This isn't an either/or proposal, I myself am mostly paid by a very large corporation, but we need to support spaces like Scarleteen where discussions happen much more unencumbered by the process of funding and development which touches so much other social service work.
Lastly, Scarleteen delivers comprehensive sex education that is actually comprehensive. This too is tied to their lack of obligation to institutional funders. On Scarleteen conversations can actually be guided by users, not by internal rules about what is and is not allowed to be talked about. Whether it's information about sexual pleasure, sexual violence, or any kind of sexual choice, Scarleteen users get to direct the conversation, and the educators and volunteers will go where the users want them to go. But they go as educators. They are not friends, they are not parents, they are teachers. They are good teachers, which is what we all need, and what most of us lack.
Which brings me to the part about what we can do. We can make the Internet a better place for sex by having the kind of complicated, honest, direct, and challenging conversations about sex that they have every day on Scarleteen. We can also help by supporting the professionals (paid and unpaid) who are devoted to doing this every day, not just with the people in their own life, but with strangers who come to them looking for support. Like so many good teachers, the folks at Scarleteen are seriously underpaid, and the organization needs our support.
From Alizarene:
When I was 11, Mom gave me a pamphlet called "Growing Up and Liking It," which featured a dated photograph of a smiling blonde teenage girl in a blue dress on the cover. The pamphlet described menstruation and really seemed to push Modess ("rhymes with oh yes!") sanitary napkins, which no longer existed. Included in the pamphlet was an insert about bras. This was lavishly illustrated with drawings of fabulous, impossibly-stacked women wearing various bullet bras and did little more than cause me to want to become a fabulous, impossibly-stacked woman wearing various bullet bras. The menstruation information, however, was old news. They had already shown us The Film at school. And that, apparently, was all we needed to know about sex. Except they were skipping what seemed to be the most interesting part! I’ve always believed that innocence is underrated but probably not the most practical thing in the world. I was used to being The Smart Girl, and being ignorant about something that was so important was disturbing. Being self-reliant, I set out to learn about sex via the only tools I had available to me: books. I knew the act was called sex, so I consulted Webster's Student Dictionary, but looking up "sex" was a big disappointment to say the least.
From Medicinal Marzipan:
When I was a kid, I was really lucky to have a mother that answered any and all sexual questions with blatant, irreverent, and knowledgable answers. Nothing was off topic. Nothing was considered too mature for my knowing. I never wanted for information, ranging from anatomy to sexuality.
I was very lucky.
Now, I’m not saying that this approach is going to work for everyone. I entirely understand not disclosing everything to your seven year old if it makes you uncomfortable or if you believe that is too much information for a small child. I am saying that access to appropriate and factual information about sex was an asset to me during my youth. It spared me from many things, from taking risks that would impact my sexual health such as not using protection, to feeling no shame about my sexuality or sex practices. In other words – BIG things.
From Button Street:
Shuffling feet, dusty floors. Click-whrr, washed-out slides. Snickering. Honestly, I don’t remember much about high school sex ed except that it was boring. My school was reasonably progressive, but our sex-ed class was anatomical, biological, and cold–in short, completely unhelpful.
My parents? Oh, I have the very vaguest memory of my mom having a “talk” with me…it would another year or two before I came out to them, but I knew I only liked girls and as soon as she started talking about boys my mind wandered off. If I never had sex with boys, I certainly couldn’t get pregnant, and I couldn’t catch anything nasty either right? So I didn’t need to care. And when I finally got laid with a girl–you know what I remember about my first kiss, my first time having sex? I’ll tell you it had nothing to do with safer sex. Not on my radar.
As a cripplingly awkward young lesbian too frightened to ask my parents or anyone about what I was going through, it wasn’t easy to find what I was looking for. Like many queer youth, I thought I was weird, I thought there was something wrong with me. I was terrified and embarrassed and didn’t know where to look other than the internet. This was in the last days of the BBS, when Geocities twinkled like so much tacky graffiti–and unfortunately, I didn’t find anything like Scarleteen.
Although I turned out okay, it took most of my young adult life to correct my misconceptions about my own sexuality and identity. Other people have much worse stories—but it doesn’t have to be like that.
From I'm Not Sorry:
Unfortunately young women have been given the shaft, literally and figuratively, for millennia when it comes to sex education. Ever-pervasive religion of pretty much every sort puts women in the “you are a vessel” category, there only to serve men’s needs, denying that we might have needs of our own. We are told how to please men, but not how to tell men to please us. We are told to put our men and our children’s lives over our own; society applauds the brave woman with cancer who puts off treatment to give birth or who finally gets that baby after seven IVF tries. If a woman wants anything other than a husband and children—or, just maybe, pleasure during sex—she is branded as selfish, a slut, a whore, unnatural. Thanks to the Internet the misogynists have really come out to play. While I was writing about Debbie Does Dallas out of curiosity I Googled “seventies porn ads.” With some poking around I found the worst term used towards women in the ads was “broads.” These days? “Cum-guzzling sluts eager to swallow your load!” “Hungry bitches ready for your cock!” “Nasty cunts who take it in the ass and beg for more!” I’m not saying women weren’t exploited in the seventies and eighties, but at least they weren’t called names–in public, anyway.
Thankfully, the Internet also offers a platform for the truth, which brings me to Scarleteen.
I first came across Scarleteen a few years ago and immediately fell in love with it—because it was honest. It embraces every choice a teenager can make—straight, homosexual, omnisexual–without judgment and is super medically accurate. It advises frank talk and actions from safe sex to masturbatory techniques without any of the mainstream media’s bullshit or spin or political correctness. You will not see terms like “va-jay-jay” there. If you are a parent and aren’t comfortable with talking about sex with your kids, the best thing you can do for them is send them over to Scarleteen. Hell, even if you are comfortable with talking about sex with your kids send them to Scarleteen. Read it yourself, you might learn something. With INS I’ve striven to present the truth about abortion without judgment. Heather Corinna goes about five hundred steps ahead of me with sex and Scarleteen and she does it on next to no cash, which makes it even more amazing. I don’t ask INS readers to pony up money very often, but please try to throw a few bucks Scarleteen’s way. It is a truly valuable resource and any help to keep it available to kids, especially this generation, bombarded with conflicting messages all over the place, will be gratefully appreciated. If one gender-bending kid breathes a sigh of relief knowing that there are others; if one teenage boy realizes that it’s okay to be a virgin; if one teenage girl learns that there’s nothing wrong with her if she doesn’t come solely through intercourse, that’s one more sexually healthy human being on the planet.
Want to help out? We need whatever you can give this year, and whatever it is, we can assure you, it'll be so appreciated by our staff and volunteers, and more importantly, by the millions of Scarleteen readers and users every year who rely on us for a safe, sound and smart place to learn about sexuality and to get direct support when they need it. To find out how, click here!
This is a guest post from Dances With Engines as part of the month-long blogathon to help support Scarleteen!
I was hoping to make a post for the Scarleteen Blogathon that was pleasant and sweet and that would inspire people to make donations, and to do it without touching on my personal experiences. But there’s no way for me to make a post about sex and sex education without digging at old wounds. Isn’t that part of the new paradigm, anyway, where personal experience has authority?
Scarleteen is written for young people of all sexes and genders. That they manage to do so with so much consistency and dependability is amazing to me. As I become more conscious of my own binary and oppositional language (men do this, women do that, and only men and women), I get more impressed with Scarleteen.
When I recommend websites to my daughter, or to friends with growing children, I am always questioning—is the language and mission of this site going to be inclusive? Is anyone going to be left feeling like they don’t belong or that someone’s wrong with them? I felt like that, growing up. There were so many reasons I wasn’t human, wasn’t visible. Growing up in a conservative environment where I was defined by my sex and my ability to reproduce, having a sexuality that didn’t meet the norm left me in limbo.
As I grow as a feminist, I also want more intersectionality, and Scarleteen acknowledges the importance of this as well. I find that reading their blogs and articles—as an adult—helps me file off the old codes imprinted in my psyche and my thought. While Scarleteen is written for young people, it has helped me to complete development of opinions and identity that were broken short by trying to conform to my family and their community of choice.
Reading Scarleteen as a teen would have taught me that certain things that happened weren’t only wrong: they were illegal. It never occurred to me as a young woman that someone wasn’t allowed to do that to me. More than that, it never occurred to me that it wasn’t my fault. It took me into my forties to really grasp that.
I read Scarleteen because it helps me heal, I read it because I want to be a good parent to my teenaged daughter, and I read it because I want to make sure it continues to be a good resource that I can offer to other people. I read it because I’m a writer and I want to be constructive in my work, I want to write outside of the constructs given to me by me history.
I jumped at the chance to blog and to donate to Scarleteen because I wish it had been around when I was a kid. I love the way that it addresses young people as people. I don’t believe that children are chattel; I believe that they are capable of making wise choices when given consistent, comprehensible, non-condescending information, and when they can have faith in each other and the adults who are addressing them. One of the greatest disservices that we can do to our children, and ourselves, is to lie—no matter how noble the reasoning may seem.
Scarleteen does all the right things, in my opinion. It doesn’t lie. It treats its readers with respect—whether they are conservative or liberal or progressive. As a whole, it wants its readers to be true to themselves, no matter how that manifests.
I was raised in a conservative Christian family, where the entirety of my education on the act of sex was limited to the fact that I was to be married and that I was to lie down for my future husband as necessary, preferably to produce babies. Literally: the woman lies down with her legs apart. Nothing more. Until then, it was my responsibility to prevent men from having sex with me, which they would try to do, because I would do that to men, make them want to have sex with me.
Reading something like Scarleteen wouldn’t have made me run out and have sex. Information doesn’t do that to people. It would have saved me from being the victim of misinformation, self-hatred, confusion, and repeated sexual assaults. Supporting Scarleteen means—in my experience, and without hyperbole—that other children and young people will be saved from those things as well.
That’s worth a donation, or at least taking the time to share a link with someone else. If you do nothing else, share the link.
I've read articles about men wanting to bring another partner, be it male or female, into the game. But as a woman, I'm not really sure how to bring this up with my boyfriend. It's more or less that I would like to bring someone else into our sexual relationship, for sex with both of us, but I'm not sure how to broach the topic or do this. So, I set about asking here. How should I ask? What should I even look into when considering another sexual partner?
I'm 19 years old, and I've been dating a guy who's 22. We've been seeing each other for a long time, about a year or so. Recently we were having a close talk, admitting things to each other we hadn't told anyone before, and he admitted to me that he had experimented with another guy when he was 16 by having anal/oral sex with him. At the moment, I didn't act shocked or anything, even though I was going crazy in my head. I've never experimented nor have I wanted to with the same sex because I'm completely straight. It's been a month since this happened, and I feel as if I don't love him anymore. I don't want to move forward with this relationship and it hurts because he's perfect in every other way. Am I making a mistake by breaking up with him? I just can't stop thinking that if he were truly straight, he wouldn't have gone so far with another guy, or have been able to finish (orgasm) during the situation. I'm just really, really disgusted by him now. Please help if you can, I know this situation is really weird.