Tag Archives: Sex

Straight Folk – You Seriously Need To Start Talking About HIV

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While we may think that, at this point, we know all there is to know about HIV and what causes it after decades of research, recent data has revealed that there is still a long way to go, especially for heterosexual people.

Newfoundland Diagnostics have recently conducted a study using a sample of 2,504 people, into public awareness and perception of HIV ahead of HIV Testing Week this week. Alarmingly, their research found that many people aren’t aware that anybody can get HIV and have never been tested.

According to the researchers, over one million straight people in the UK believe that they are immune to HIV. This is exceptionally alarming, given that UK Government figures show that almost half of HIV cases are heterosexual people.

73% of straight Brits have never tested for HIV

The study also found that over a fifth (21%) of heterosexual Brits believe that they are unlikely to contract HIV, leading them to not get tested. Additionally, one million Brits believe that they are ‘immune’ to the condition.

Other reasons for heterosexual people not testing for HIV include never having unprotected sex (18%), not having access to an HIV test (4%) and not being bothered to test for HIV (3%).

Overall, this research exposes a sore lack of education within the UK around HIV and how it is contracted and manifests. Newfoundland Diagnostics notes that this ironically echoes the infamous tombstone ads of the 80s which said: “don’t die of ignorance.”

Frederick Manduca, co-founder of Newfoundland Diagnostics, said: “Whilst testing does seem to be increasing in the long-term, these findings reveal there remains a substantial amount of ignorance towards testing and its importance amongst heterosexual people.”

Who can get HIV and how is it transmitted?

Despite much of the focus surrounding HIV being on gay, bisexual, and men who have sex with men testing for HIV, far more people could contract the disease. Anybody who has unprotected sex, exchanges bodily fluids or shares needles should regularly test for HIV. Anybody can get infected with it, regardless of sexuality, race, gender, sex, or age.

HIV is found in the body fluids of someone living with HIV. This includes semen, vaginal, and anal fluids, blood, and breast milk. In the UK, according to Newfoundland Diagnostics, the most common way of getting it is through anal or vaginal sex without a condom. It cannot be transmitted through sweat, urine, or saliva.

How do I test for HIV?

All HIV tests will check your blood for any blood-borne diseases and are available as part of a regular STI check up. You can visit a GUM clinic or sexual health practice for a test, or you can test at home with a self-test such as Newfoundland Diagnostics’ HIV test.

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I Went To A Brothel With My Boyfriend. It Was Nothing Like What I Expected.

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My boyfriend, Rod, is passionately kissing another woman.

Little fingers of jealousy squeeze my insides, and I’m not sure where to look or what to do. The woman senses my discomfort and immediately stops, pulling me up beside her with a big, warm giggle and a squeeze. I relax and remember: This is why I chose her. I like her, I love that giggle, and I know she has absolutely zero interest in poaching my boyfriend.

How do I know this? Because I picked her out of the lineup at one of Nevada’s most storied legal brothels. We hired her to join us for a threesome for an hour, and when our time is up, she will go back out to the bar and charm someone else with that sexy laugh, and we will go home.

I’d never had a “real” threesome before, other than some fairly benign fooling around in college. It had been a lifelong fantasy, but the emotional politics of threesomes always seemed so forbiddingly complicated. Surely someone would get hurt, someone would feel left out, someone would get jealous ― surely, maybe, definitely me? Plus that third-wheel ― would she turn stalker? Would we get an STI? Would an angry boyfriend show up out of nowhere and make us the unfortunate stars of a true-crime show? Just too risky. So I had resigned myself to the fact that some things are best left to fantasy.

When I met a lover who knew his way around a paid hookup, however, a whole new possibility presented itself. Rod and I headed to the brothel outside Reno, Nevada, to celebrate my upcoming birthday. And it was not at all what I expected.

We took a cab from our hotel in downtown Reno to the brothel’s bar, all flashy neon outside but classic sticky floors and bare-bones Old West saloon inside. Escorts chatted among themselves on bar stools or lounged on velvet banquettes against the wall. It was early ― around 4 p.m. ― and we were some of the only patrons. A few old men sat at wooden bar tables, eating out of plastic foam TV trays and silently sipping beer. Women who obviously knew them would pop by periodically to pick them up, a scene much more akin to medical assistants ushering patients to the exam room than participants embarking on a sexy encounter.

Rod and I were the subject of great interest ― couples are a fairly rare event ― and we had many friendly women cruise by our table, asking if we had any questions and offering to show us around. Before we had a chance to chat with anyone in detail, the “lineup” bell rang, and every patron who had not already initiated an encounter with a woman went through a forbidding dungeon-like door into a cavernous hunting lodge space.

In front of a giant stone fireplace the women lined up. They were every kind of everything ― all different races and body types and styles of dress. I found myself in a rare moment of simply admiring the beautiful diversity of their bodies without that knee-jerk need to compete or compare myself. I winced a bit self-consciously, however, when I realised that none of them were as old as I was. Would they be turned off by our middle-aged bodies? Wait, was I actually expecting them to be turned on? I was momentarily stumped.

The author and her boyfriend, Rod, on the plane to Reno, Nevada.

Courtesy of Melissa Duge Spiers

The author and her boyfriend, Rod, on the plane to Reno, Nevada.

The house manager ― a business-suited woman who was my age ― introduced each woman, who then stepped forward for a moment, gave a little wave and a smile, just like at a beauty pageant. A handsome young guy in the chair beside us made his pick immediately. His woman grinned and sashayed over to sit on his lap and gave him an enthusiastic greeting ― this was clearly not their first time together. The manager then asked any women who wanted to entertain couples to step forward, and about half of the line did.

Rod and I had made an agreement before we arrived: I got to choose. I already knew that I wanted Carmen, the curvy, dark-haired woman in a fishnet dress and thong who had been the first to say hello to us in the bar. She was flirty and seemed happy. She was pretty and she had that giggle. So I pointed at her, while my nice-girl upbringing screamed at me silently: Pointing is so rude! The women without dates headed back to the bar and I felt another guilty stab as they filed past us. Had I made them feel rejected? Did they take it personally?

I didn’t have time to think about it because Carmen was shimmying on our lap, or, more specifically, on my lap as I sat on Rod’s lap. Pulling me up by the hand, and looping an arm around him, she led us to the negotiation room. It was a small room with dim lighting that resembled a hall closet and was just big enough for us all to sit knee to knee while we discussed what our hour might look like and what the price tag would be.

Depending on what services we wanted, our time with Carmen could easily total a thousand dollars or more. She laid out her ground rules (condoms were always required; kissing was OK) and asked if we had any specific requests. Not really, we just want to have fun, we told her. We negotiated a price ― I gulped and Rod agreed. Then we offered up our genitals for inspection, a quick once-over she conducted with a sly sense of humour while she detailed the rigorous STI testing she undergoes every week. Oddly, the whole thing was reassuring and funny rather than awkward. STIs are taken very seriously at the brothel, which is obviously a good thing.

The unusual formalities over, we headed to the pay window and forked over the cash. Once we were finished, we followed Carmen down a maze-like hallway — a literal red light glowed everywhere ― and she pranced along ahead of us with a Champagne bottle in an ice bucket.

When we finally got to her room, a tiny, semi-personalised space, I was thrilled to find it was toasty ― I’m always freezing when I’m nervous. Carmen pointed out condoms, towels, the fresh sheets on the bed, and the adjoining bathroom (which she shared with the woman in the room next door). The little tour was a strange combination of straight commerce and flirtation.

Carmen seemed to be a naturally touchy-feely person and she held my arm or tapped my back as she showed us around. I noticed that she focused her attention much more on me than Rod, which charmed me, but the cynical observer in me noted that it is an undoubtedly smart, practiced move — she is obviously well-versed in disarming the female competition and jealousy aspect of these encounters.

The author and her boyfriend hanging out at the bar in their hotel, where she says they, "enjoyed shocking people by telling them our destination."

Courtesy of Melissa Duge Spiers

The author and her boyfriend hanging out at the bar in their hotel, where she says they, “enjoyed shocking people by telling them our destination.”

Things flowed effortlessly between Carmen and me, from our intro chatter to getting into the horizontal action, and within minutes Rod enthusiastically joined in, the three of us rotating around in a surprisingly fluid give-and-take. While he nominally took charge ― after all, a threesome needs a little direction ― it was overwhelmingly female-centered sex. I smiled to myself. Threesomes are such trite male-fantasy territory, but Carmen and I were a girl party of teamwork, exploration and celebration. I even joked at one point that we hoped Rod didn’t feel excluded. (He decidedly did not.) The whole experience was fun and sexy ― all I had hoped it would be ― with none of the awkwardness I had feared.

Carmen was unfailingly charming and enthusiastic, but I never once mistook her warmth for actual sexual excitement. There was no pretence on anyone’s part that this encounter was expected to include satisfaction for her.

I asked her about this later, as we all lounged naked on the bed, sipping Champagne and chatting. She batted the question down with a polished little sidestep ― she explained that she has enough fun just making her clients happy, and it’s too much work to have orgasms all day long anyway. We asked her where she grew up (Venezuela) and how she got into this line of work. (She was initially a stripper but found brothel work safer, with less harassment and more money.) When I wondered aloud whether the post-coital chat was the best or worst part of the job, Carmen assured me she looks forward to connecting with customers and that the old saw is actually true: She often has clients who pay just to talk.

Way too soon, an intercom buzzer rang and a female voice let us know our time was up. I had wondered about security ― surely there was a network of bouncers and cameras and intercoms and emergency buttons to protect the women, but everything was so discreet, we didn’t notice any of it. We jumped up and bustled around, helping Carmen strip the bed and straighten up (even though she insisted we didn’t have to) and then the three of us spilt out into the hallway.

We returned to the bar where we began our adventure for some final chatter and a drink. We were sitting cozily together at a table and laughing at our own newly made inside jokes, when a young woman who looked fresh off a farm joined us. She clearly had a friendly relationship with Carmen and was eager to know, “What exactly do you do in a threesome?” As we happily shared our insights, she turned to me and said with a wink, “This is what happens to a girl when you raise her in a really strict, controlling religion!” I raised my glass and said, “That makes two of us, girlfriend! Amen!”

A drink suddenly arrived at our table for Carmen. It was sent from a gentleman at the bar, and she smiled and raised a toast to him. She got up immediately and, after squeezing my leg in a little goodbye, strutted over to him. I watched as they chatted for a few moments and then she linked her arm in his and led him over to the big lodge door. The last thing I heard as it swung shut behind them was that warm, bubbly giggle, and I found myself sad to see her go. I guess I was jealous after all.

Melissa Duge Spiers is an award-winning screenwriter and memoirist, whose memoir-in-progress, “The Glory Whole,” won the Book Pipeline 2021 Unpublished Manuscript Non-Fiction award. She is represented by Dani Segelbaum/The Carol Mann Agency. For more from her, visit her Instagram at @mdugespiers.

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I Didn’t Have Sex For 10 Years. When I Finally Did, It Sent Me To A&E.

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I lay on my side, cradling my iPhone, looking up “bleeding after sex” and dabbing a piece of toilet paper between my legs. I thought about whether or not I should wake my new boyfriend up.

The Healthy Woman website stated, “It’s common for women of all ages to have bleeding after sex at one time or another. In fact, up to 9 percent of all women experience post coital bleeding (outside of first sex) at some point in their lives. Most of the time it’s nothing major and goes away on its own. But bleeding after sex can also be a sign of something more serious.” SIGN OF SOMETHING SERIOUS?

Great. I had already had acute myeloid leukaemia multiple times, and now, when things were looking up, WebMD said this new symptom could mean I have pelvic organ prolapse (when pelvic organs, like the bladder or uterus, jut beyond the vaginal walls).

I found a site where someone asked, “Could my uterus fall out?” No, it couldn’t. At least I had that.

“The most important thing to pay attention to is the rate and volume of bleeding,” the article read. “Most bleeding after sex is fairly light. Heavy bleeding — where you’re soaking through a pad every hour or passing clots larger than the size of a quarter — warrants a visit to the emergency room.”

I didn’t have a quarter, but I did have a clock that showed it had been two hours. The doctor on call for my internist’s office, around 2 or 3 a.m., sounded annoyed.

“You should have called your gynaecologist,” he said. But he called ahead to the ER. I shook my boyfriend awake, and off we went into the spring night that had held so much promise. Intellectually I knew it wasn’t my fault, but I was more embarrassed than if I had been wearing white shorts and gotten my period in gym class.

On the TLC series, ”Sex Sent Me to the ER,” worse things happen, such as objects stuck where they shouldn’t be. My issue was more mundane, but I found out also very common: lack of information after my cancer treatment.

Nobody told me that chemotherapy, which I’d undergone after my diagnosis in 2003 and again after relapses in 2007 and 2008, could cause a sudden loss of oestrogen production in my ovaries, and that this could lead to symptoms of menopause such as a thinning vagina and vaginal dryness. (Actually, the first round put me into early menopause at 48.) Nobody told me that vaginal dryness can cause pain and bleeding during intercourse.

Yet data shows that the incidence of sexual dysfunction among female cancer survivors is somewhat common. Common sexual side effects are difficulty reaching climax, less energy for sexual activity, loss of desire, reduced size of the vagina, and pain during penetration.

For my part, it had been a 10-year dry spell. You shouldn’t need a reason for not having sex, but I had good ones: treatment in 2009 for relapsed leukaemia, life-threatening infections after a rare fourth stem cell transplant, a coma, a four-month hospitalisation and a year just to get back on my feet.

My 13-year marriage, long over, had consisted of 10 good years and three downhill all the way along a road full of land mines. Afterward, a four-year relationship with an English professor ended in fitting dramatic form when he rediscovered his childhood sweetheart while I was mourning the death of my father. Pulling his hands through his long grey hair, he declared, “We’re like Heathcliff and Cathy. I love her more than I love you!” I had to brush up on my “Wuthering Heights” to get it. Heathcliff and Catherine were soulmates.

My soulmate was nowhere to be found. He was not the guy who walked into a restaurant looking pale and pasty and nothing like the photo of the fit guy on his online profile, making me think of climbing out the bathroom window. He was not the guy I met at a Matzo Ball, where Jewish singles go on Christmas Eve to comport themselves like eighth graders at a school dance; we lasted for about six months until he complained that he was lower on the totem pole than my three children. I thought he might be the tennis player who strung my rackets and said he was falling in love with me, but he disappeared, in a feat I later learned had a name: hanging you out to dry.

“’Please tell me you’ve seen worse than this,’ I said to the nurse as I lay on the exam table.”

I decided to follow the advice of friends who were tired of hearing me talk about heartbreak and disappointment: Live your best single life. I stopped paying for dating websites but left a profile on a free one.

Stop trying to find something, and then if you’re lucky, you will find it, or it will find you. A nice guy wrote that he liked my profile (ugh, I hated writing those things). He thought we had a lot in common (running, kids, reading, similar politics) and would love to have a conversation. Is it corny to say that as we walked toward each other in front of the restaurant where we were to meet, we were being pulled together? Maybe it was just relief that he seemed normal and resembled his profile photo.

We sat at a high table in the bar. Our fingertips brushed together when we held up our phones to show each other photos; his, of places he had traveled, and mine, of kids and dogs. The next day, we went for a walk, and he passed a big test: meeting my chocolate Labrador retriever. She got a crush on him. I think it’s the soft voice. It works on me, too.

I had been using a vaginal eostrogen cream, Estrace (generic name estradiol), twice a week, to reduce symptoms of menopause such as vaginal dryness, burning, and itching. Though I was concerned about side effects, my doctor said the small amount was not absorbed outside the vagina, unlike hormone replacement therapy, which goes into the bloodstream. She said it was also OK to use Estrace once a week and Replens, a nonhormonal moisturiser, the rest of the time if I wanted to.

I remembered hearing that I would need to up the dosage if I wanted to have sex again. I made an appointment with my gynaecologist to see if I should do anything else to prepare for physical intimacy.

The physician’s assistant who saw me said, “Go to the toy store.” I was confused. My children were grown. Why did I need a toy store? I learned that she meant the sex toy store tucked behind a doorway next to a pizza place.

I got a set of six pink dilators. They started pinky-sized and increased by gradations up to a dauntingly large one. They didn’t come with instructions regarding how long to leave them in. The small one went in OK. I kept it in for a few minutes and then put in the next larger one, increasing in size until I had had enough. There’s not much you can do when you’re lying around with a fake pink penis in your vagina.

When it finally came time for real sex, I liked it. It hurt after a while, so we stopped, but I thought that was normal. Next I felt something sticky on my legs. It was blood. Blood on the sheets, blood on our legs. We got in the shower, changed the sheets, and got back into bed. It couldn’t have been less romantic.

The emergency room was even worse ― grungy and poorly lit. He sat with me, holding my hand and looking as upset as I was, until a nurse called me in and he went to sleep in the car.

“Please tell me you’ve seen worse than this,” I said to the nurse as I lay on the exam table feeling raw, emotionally and physically. She said she had. The doctor did an internal examination and said the blood had likely come from chafing. It was dawn when we finally got out of there. We went out to breakfast. Ordering my traditional blueberry pancake with an egg over hard brought a sense of normalcy to the misadventure.

The next week, I returned to the doctor’s office and this time saw the gynaecologist herself.

“Let’s start from scratch,” she said. I was to leave a dilator in for between 15 and 30 minutes, while doing diaphragmatic breathing. She sent me to pelvic floor therapy to learn relaxation exercises. I used the Estrace for two weeks straight. By the time we had sex again, it didn’t hurt, but I nervously checked the sheets for a long time afterward. I figured if we could get through a post-coital visit to the ER, we could get through most anything.

I may not have known much about sex after cancer, but it’s a topic that’s starting to be talked about more. I learned that after years of dismissing women’s sexual function as just one of those things that cancer takes away, many see women’s sexual health as a survivorship issue. An expert who I interviewed for a story on sex after cancer even called the dearth of information for female cancer survivors “a health equity issue.”

Many cancer centres are beginning to open sexual health programs. My own cancer centre was among them. “You missed us by about a year,” the director told me.

Luckily, I’m no worse for the wear and am still with the nice guy. I use Estrace (and sometimes Replens) twice a week and a lubricant when having sex. Doctors say that one of the best ways to treat vaginal dryness is to have more sex, because increased blood flow stimulates lubrication.

Now that memory of the ER visit is almost three years in the past, that seems like a fine idea to me.

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My Church Told Me I Needed Sex Addicts Anonymous. Here’s What Happened When I Went.

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There are 12 women in the room, myself included, all seated in a circle of plastic folding chairs. Some of us are holding foam cups full of the free instant coffee offered to us at the door. I am on my second cup already.

“Hi, my name is Angela and I’m a sex addict,” the woman sitting directly across from me says.

“Hi Angela,” the rest of the women respond in unison.

“This week, I … um … I’ve been struggling with watching porn again,” she continues.

Sweat drips down my forehead and rests on top of my eyebrows. I listen to each of the women, in a clockwise direction, take a turn speaking. Soon it will be my turn. I feel a knot forming in my stomach and I’m overcome with a wave of nausea. They all continue to confess their transgressions of lust, masturbation, and late night pornography-viewing escapades. The woman to my right, Rebecca, finishes speaking. It’s my turn.

“Hi, I’m Samantha …”

I pause for a second, wondering if I have to say the next line. The group leader is looking at me with her eyes wide. I think she’s staring into my soul.

“… And I’m a sex addict.”

I was 23 when I attended my first Sex Addicts Anonymous meeting and back then I believed with all of my heart that I had a sex addiction. For my entire life, my evangelical Christian community had told me that any sexual act, thought or desire outside of marriage between a man and a woman was a grave sin against God. The path to my salvation had hinged on my ability to remain sexually pure. When I confessed my “sexual sins” to my church mentor in 2014 after years of struggling to ignore my sexuality, she suggested I seek recovery for my addiction.

I was in SAA for just under a year but my time spent there and the events that led me to those meetings had a lasting impact. I now know that I was never a sex addict but instead was a product of a dangerously insidious purity culture that still thrives in many religious contexts today.

My parents weren’t raised religious, but when I was in the second grade my dad found Jesus in a hospital waiting room. My mom almost died of cancer that night, and when she survived, my parents vowed to follow God for the rest of their days. A week later, I was in a Sunday school class at the Methodist church down the road.

It was there that I learned about sin and salvation. I was told God created the world, was constantly angry at humans for messing up, and then sent his one and only son to die so that everyone else would be free. Our teachers warned us about sin every chance they got. I was riddled with guilt my whole childhood and prayed to God every night before bed for forgiveness.

In the sixth grade, I heard about “sexual sin” for the first time. Our youth group leader told us that God saved her from her lustful ways. She said she used to put her worth in men and in finding love. She explained she was empty, dirty and lost until God found her. “God saved me from my sexual sins,” she said. She cried as she told us her story.

I went home that night and prayed to God for hours. I was scared that something like that would happen to me, so I pleaded with God to save me from the same fate.

“In the sixth grade, I heard about ‘sexual sin’ for the first time. Our youth group leader told us that God saved her from her lustful ways. She said she used to put her worth in men and in finding love. She explained she was empty, dirty and lost until God found her.”

In high school, I dove even deeper into my Christian community and started attending a high school ministry group called Young Life. We talked a lot about sexual sin ― about things like sleeping with your boyfriend, masturbating or watching porn. I was curious about sex and about my body and was constantly thinking about what it would be like to make out with the guy who sat behind me in chemistry class. I was certain it would feel good but I was terrified of disappointing God. Sex was on my mind ― just like most other teens ― but underneath, my thoughts thrummed a steady hum of shame.

I started watching porn my sophomore year after someone in my algebra class told me about a new site called Pornhub. I was instantly hooked. Porn was a secret, always available outlet for all of the sexual desires I had to keep hidden. I could explore my body and my sexuality without anyone else finding out. I felt excitement every time I watched it, but that rush was immediately followed by the shame of knowing that I was committing sexual sin.

In college, I became a Young Life leader and continued investing time in my church community. I was still watching porn often, but I was trying to wean myself from it while simultaneously maintaining the appearance of purity that my community revered. After a while, though, the weight of knowing that God knew what I was doing felt too heavy to carry, so I decided to confess my sins to my friends and hopefully get help.

Everyone told me they were proud of me for being honest about such a dreadful sin. I was “brave” for my vulnerability. When I told my mentor, she congratulated me on taking such an enormous step of faith and recommended a few “sex/porn addict” support groups, one of which was SAA. I was hesitant at first, but I already had a friend who attended the group so I tagged along with her the following week.

Our women’s-only meeting was on Tuesday nights at a Baptist church down the road from my apartment, and sometimes I would see men walking into their meeting across the hall. I tried a co-ed meeting once but I felt so anxious and embarrassed that I threw up my Chick-fil-A sandwich the second I got home.

Everyone in my group was a devout Christian, all trying desperately to avoid our sins of lust. After the first few months, I was assigned a mentor. Her name was Ella and she had been a recovering sex addict for over five years. She was bright and bubbly but her shoulders hung low. She and I would meet 30 minutes before each weekly group meeting to go over what I had been working on.

There was one meeting with Ella where I was feeling particularly anxious. I had developed a crush on a co-worker and he had reciprocated my interest. I was nervous to tell Ella that we made out at a party the previous weekend. In SAA, we were encouraged to stay away from any sort of sexual activity, including kissing.

Just as I suspected, Ella was shocked at my confession. She didn’t think it was a good idea for me to be making out with random guys while I was dealing with my recovery. I stayed quiet and agreed with her but I felt uneasy on my drive home that night.

For the first time since I started attending SAA, I was angry. I was mad at Ella for telling me what to do with my situation ― and at all of the other people from my church who had done the same.

Tears poured down my face and anger welled up inside me as I drove home. But then, as quickly as I could, I attempted to quiet my mind and prayed to God for forgiveness.

In the following months, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake what I felt after that meeting with Ella. I was now hyperaware of the shame in my life and all around me. It was palpable. I would sit in church services, Bible studies and SAA meetings, trying to drown out my anger with prayers to God. But it was too late. I had let the anger in and I could no longer ignore it.

“I finally realized that my whole life had been made up of other people’s decisions ― decisions based on fear, misinformation and attempts to control. I now saw the truth: My sexuality, my body, the things I felt, the questions I had, and my desires weren’t evil.”

By my 24th birthday, I had left Sex Addicts Anonymous. I wasn’t planning on it at the time, but I ended up leaving my church community, too. The anger I allowed myself to feel after that meeting with Ella was the first time I truly let myself push back against what my community believed. It was the first time I trusted myself and there was no turning back after that.

I finally realised that my whole life had been made up of other people’s decisions ― decisions based on fear, misinformation and attempts to control. I now saw the truth: My sexuality, my body, the things I felt, the questions I had, and my desires weren’t evil. None of it meant something was wrong with me. I wasn’t addicted to sex and I didn’t need the help I had been convinced I needed.

Walking away was terrifying because I spent my whole life believing what my community had told me and I was still worried I might be making the wrong choice. Maybe God would smite me and condemn me to hell. Maybe my life without the church would be miserable. But choosing to turn away from shame, being able to listen to the intuition that had been inside me all along, felt well worth the risk.

It’s been almost seven years since SAA, and thanks to therapy and people in my life who encourage me to be myself on a daily basis, I’ve found peace with my experience. I lost a handful of close friends after stepping away from my faith community, but my family was supportive of my decision, despite their religious beliefs. Now years later after walking away, I can say with confidence that I never had a sex addiction.

It’s difficult to find one universal definition for “sex addiction” because the term is highly debated by medical experts and isn’t recognised by a large part of the psychology community as a diagnosable addiction.

The DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) no longer recognises sexual addiction as a mental health disorder, one of the reasons being because people don’t experience withdrawal symptoms or the physical need for sex like they would with drugs or alcohol.

It also has to do with the fact that oftentimes the person diagnosing a sex addiction carries their own moral judgments or biases related to sex. Instead of sex addiction, people now often use compulsive sexual disorder to describe a “persistent pattern of failure to control intense, repetitive sexual impulses or urges resulting in repetitive sexual behaviour.” The use of both terms is still controversial, especially as more research is being done around these topics.

What many medical experts do agree on is that a lot of people who claim to be “sex addicts” are not actually engaging in more sexual behaviour than normal, but instead come from highly religious backgrounds and feel more levels of moral guilt associated with their sexuality. New research from the Journal of Abnormal Psychology found that most of a study’s 3,500 participants weren’t taking part in higher amounts of sexual activity, but instead carried more religious guilt about their sexual actions. These feelings of guilt often lead to a greater struggle to stop unwanted behaviour.

For most of my life, I was told my sexual desires were a sin against God. I believe this led to personal shame and the belief that I couldn’t control my own natural sexual urges. But I now know my curiosity about my sexuality and my body was healthy. When I removed the strict moral lens of religious purity culture, everything became crystal clear.

The evangelical church’s view on sexual purity and sex addiction is harmful. For individuals like me who grew up in these environments, the concept of purity can foster shame, isolation, and compulsive thoughts and behaviours. That compulsiveness and the cycles of shame we can experience are then often wrongly mislabeled as sex addictions.

For our society as a whole, it’s obvious how these teachings have a far wider impact and can lead to a lack of comprehensive sex education, a lack of accountability, misogyny, homophobia, and sometimes even the sexual violence that we see in our culture on a daily basis.

I’m not sure that stories like mine will ever change the evangelical church. Though I hope its leaders might realise how harmful their teachings are and take action to do better, I know that these beliefs are the foundation of the church and, therefore, unlikely to change. However, I am hopeful that by speaking out, I might help others who are going through what I went through. We rarely talk about experiences like mine, especially publicly, but it’s much more common than you might think, and I want others to know you can live your life happily, confidently and without shame.

Samantha Boesch works as a writer and editor in Brooklyn, New York. She writes about health, wellness, and sexuality, and is studying to become a sex educator. You can connect with her on Instagram at @SamanthaBoesch or on Twitter at @SamanthaBoesch.

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31 Too-Real Tweets About Parents Having ‘The Talk’ With Their Kids

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As awkward as it may feel, there comes a time when every parent must have “the talk” with their children. But those early efforts to explain where babies come from don’t always go as planned.

Fortunately, you can always laugh about it! Below, we’ve rounded up 31 hilarious tweets about trying to have the sex talk with your kids.

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This Is Why ‘No Nut November’ Isn’t Actually Good For You

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As ‘No Nut November’ rolls around again, abstinence from masturbation is a common topic of discussion this time of year.

If you’ve never heard of it before, the challenge is all about abstaining from ejaculating – with a partner or otherwise – for the entire month, with some believing it’s good for male health. And it’s pretty popular – on TikTok, the hashtag #NNN (short for No Nut November) has 15.5 billion views.

What is No Nut November?

According to the Reddit thread r/nonutnovember, the rules for taking part are strict: no masturbation, at all, throughout the month of November.

“Akin to trends like No Shave November, No Nut November is an event where those who have found it hard to go even a few days without masturbating attempt to challenge the dependency, and go the entire month without making the bald man cry,” reads the Reddit community’s About section.

Is ‘nutting’ a lot a problem, then?

That’s the thing – it’s not, really.

Gigi Engle, a sex and relationships psychotherapist and lead intimacy expert at the dating app 3Fun, argues there is “no such thing” as being dependent on masturbation in the first place.

“It’s the same thinking that masturbation is addictive, porn is addictive, sex is addictive. There is absolutely no reputable science that reflects this school of thought,” she tells HuffPost UK.

Neither sex addiction nor porn addiction is recognised in the DSM-5, and the NHS also says that experts disagree on whether or not one can be medically addicted to sex and masturbation, saying: “Some sex and relationships experts believe people can become addicted to the enjoyable feeling or ‘high’ experienced during sex and sexual activity, but others disagree.”

So, why are men putting themselves through it?

The No Nut November Reddit community says “some do it just for the memes”, while others do it for actual self-improvement.

In 2019, u/yeeval, a moderator on the subreddit group doubles down on this, telling Rolling Stone: “In my opinion, most originally participate in NNN for the meme aspect of the challenge but as the days go on people begin to see how big their porn or masturbation dependency is.”

He continues to explain that No Nut November isn’t a political movement, neither is it anti-porn or anti-women.

“In its most simple form NoNutNovember [is] just a fun internet challenge that has grown in popularity due to many memes that circulate the internet…

“However, I also think that the reason that it has become so widespread is that it has given many the opportunity to look within themselves and realise that they might be relying on masturbation and porn for comfort.

Another reason No Nut November is believed to exist is thanks to a now retracted 2003 study. In this, a claim was made that abstaining from masturbation could spike testosterone.

However, since the study’s retraction, researchers have been unable to replicate the findings. In fact, criticism of the data surrounding heightened testosterone says that it’s janky at best because of small sample sizes and mixed results.

Is month-long abstinence a good idea?

Engle claims people who participate in ‘semen retention’ have shown consistently higher levels of depression and anxiety, she says: “This is because you’re building up a lot of stress, you’re not getting a release that can cause a lot of tension. There’s also a really big shame component.

“For people who believe in ‘semen retention’, if they do masturbate or if they watch porn, they are flooded with feelings of shame afterwards. And this can lead to detrimental mental health.”

Reed Amber, sex educator, sex worker activist and host of the podcast F**ks Given says, “No Nut November promotes this idea that you are masturbating too much, or that you’re using porn too much, which I think is a really dangerous concept to have when people haven’t actually spoken to professionals, or therapists or doctors about the type of behaviours that they are having.”

“Porn isn’t bad,” she continues, “but we can have bad habits revolving around porn, it’s about asking yourself, why you are masturbating?”

However, if participants are signing up in the capacity u/yeeval say they are, then isn’t that a good thing?

The answer, it seems, is complex.

Amber explains that a normal masturbation routine looks different to different people. “Some people need to masturbate once a month, and other people need to masturbate six times a day. And both those versions can be healthy, it just depends on where your mind is, and why you are masturbating,” she says.

There are now myriad studies that show masturbation to be a normal, healthy part of sexuality, even if you’re doing it multiple times a day. So long as you aren’t causing yourself distress, or inflicting distress upon others, there really isn’t anything to worry about.

“For the most part, porn can be used as a really healthy, exciting, beautiful tool for people and their pleasure,” says Amber. “Some people go through phases of using it unhealthily, just like we can do with binge-watching TV shows, or eating the wrong kinds of food or going to the gym too much.”

This is echoed by Engle, who says, “This whole idea of trying to ‘break your dependency’ and challenge yourself to not doing it is based on nonsense.”

Truth be told, regular masturbation has vital health benefits for men.

The health benefits of regular masturbation

Bima Loxley, a Sex and Relationship Therapist and Sexologist, explains to HuffPost UK that “For people with penises, it is generally healthy to ejaculate at least once a week for different reasons, however, more research needs to be done on this.”

Currently, research shows that clearing the prostate, a natural byproduct of masturbation, can decrease the risk of prostate cancer. This is because regular masturbation clears the prostate of fluid build-up that could contain inflammatory matter, cancer-causing material and infection.

In England, over 44,000 men are diagnosed with prostate cancer every year, according to findings by Prostate UK.

Prostate health can also be linked to erectile dysfunction (ED). In a study conducted by the International Journal of Clinical Practice, 41.5% of participants reported experiencing erectile dysfunction. It is believed that 10-20% of all erectile dysfunction cases are caused by mental health stressors, such as performance anxiety or chronic stress. It is believed that these symptoms can be alleviated through masturbation, by building confidence.

So, should you do No Nut November, or no?

While nobody should ever feel coerced into masturbation if they don’t want to engage in it, it does have medical benefits for the body and mind.

Whereas abstinence from masturbation under the guise of enhancing masculinity by boosting testosterone levels has proven to be detrimental to mental and physical health, as well as being scientifically debunked.

“Porn and masturbation aren’t the problem — it’s our society and how we use it,” says Loxley.

The key takeaway is that shame and stigmatising masturbation is unhealthy. Questioning why we might be masturbating and being introspective about our consumption of pornography isn’t necessarily all bad, especially if we’re worried about compulsive behaviour.

So if you did want to have a good ol’ wank in November, go for it. And if you feel like you need to address some compulsive, sexual behaviours – the NHS has a list of recommended resources and support is available.

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Let’s Talk About Luxury Sex Toys – What’s All The Buzz About?

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Today marks national sex toy day, and — coincidentally, my birthday.

I can think of no better way than to celebrate my 32 sky-dancer-like spins around the sun, than getting to the bottom of the luxury sexy toy biz. Pun intended.

There’s no denying that the sex toy market is booming, and is expected to be worth over $80 billion by 2030. With more and more people experimenting with luxury sex toys, I wanted to know what all the buzz was about. Can they really enhance our pleasure?

Truth is, I started my sex toy collection with three humble toys. The mains-powered LoveHoney wand, which is now quite old and a bit loud. My simple LoveHoney silicone g-spot dildo and not forgetting, my Satisfyer 2.0. Without fail, these simple and relatively inexpensive tools have been able to get me off consistently for years.

That being said, I can’t deny I haven’t found myself almost salivating at the shop windows of brands that promise the most Earth-shattering orgasms. This is how, one dreary evening, I found myself surrounded by a selection of world-class and award-winning vibrators, wands, g-spot massagers, clit suckers and glass dils, ready to take on the luxury market.

In my bedroom, surrounded by what can only be described as a haul of the most indulgent proportions, I spent two weeks testing each and every one, to find out which ones are better left out of your shopping basket, and which ones give you bang for your buck.

Luxury ‘Clit Suckers’ and Oral Sex Simulators

Womanizer Premium 2 Rechargeable Smart Silence Clitoral Suction Stimulator
Womanizer Premium 2 Rechargeable Smart Silence Clitoral Suction Stimulator

First up is the Womanizer. Made popular by Lily Allen, the Womanizer is a premium bit of kit. And, it doesn’t disappoint. For a clit sucker, it has seriously rumbly vibes, and within 10 seconds my soul has left my body in a back-bending orgasm.

If you’re looking for a very quiet toy, this one is pretty good unless you like things turned up to 11. Nevertheless, it’s easy to see why this has the price tag it does, and as much as I hate to be unfaithful to my regular, it does leave it in the dust.

Next up is Lelo Sona 2 Travel, which is more compact. This palm-sized powerhouse delivers, in and out of the bath, which I loved. It’s super quiet and has a much more focussed head which, for me, works out well if you’re looking to get off quickly.

While these two come in at a pricey £169 and £89 respectively, they certainly feel worth it. However, if you’re looking for something more affordable, then my old fave the Satisfyer 2.0 is a great option, as is Cindy from HANX, (£47.95 and £59.99).

Last up, is the bullet-cum-oral-sex-simulator Amour from Je Joue. This is unlike anything I’ve used before. Coming in at a pretty reasonable £59.99, the silicone is super soft and, with various settings aside, is an extremely versatile toy.

This would be perfect for someone who prefers a slow build and a fluttery sensation, rather than something more intense (sensitive girlies, I’m looking at you). However, I found turning it on its side delivered targeted vibrations that ended in leg-shaking pleasure.

For me, the clear winner was the Womanizer, which in all honesty, I haven’t been able to put down.

G-Spot Massagers of All Shapes And Sizes

Strap in, folks.

On my list to try was the *stunning* Biird X PURE Gii vibrator, and when I tell you this toy is quiet, I mean whisper quiet. Clocking in at £90, this g-spot massager is slim fitting, with a perfectly angled head. It’s not too long and is great for someone who doesn’t necessarily need to feel “full” to reach climax. It’s also quite tame. Think, less rumble, more fizz.

While I didn’t love this toy, it certainly came down to preference rather than the design or strength. If you love collecting toys that have gorgeous designs, then it’s definitely worth the cash.

Up next was Hot Octopuss’ Kurv. This is a deep, dual-motor toy which has fantastic customisation for a really personalised feel, so you can switch it up depending on what kind of mood you’re in. Coming in at £89.95, this baddie really blew me away and is without a doubt worth the investment.

If you’re looking for something that sits somewhere between the two in terms of buzz, has a pliable and slim feel, and comes in a little cheaper, then the Lennon by Knude Society (£60) is a great option.

Wands and Bullets

LeWand Rechargeable Massage Wand Vibrator
LeWand Rechargeable Massage Wand Vibrator

Now, my trusty LoveHoney wand might be strong enough to make my entire bed rock, but opening up my package from LeWand was about to rock my entire world.

Unlike my trusty plug-in, the head is soft and smooth and still delivers deep, rumbling sensations. It’s a lot quieter too. A lot. There are also no cords to get tangled up in either as it can be used completely wirelessly, though I don’t think it’s as powerful. In any case, it’s the first wand I’ve found that rivals my LoveHoney wand.

I love wands. They’re great for solo play, but they’re brilliant partner play companions too, because — to put it frankly, it’s hard to miss with them. They have a broad head, and can be used on all kinds of genitals. So whoever your partner is, you can make sure they (and you) are having a blast.

LeWand is an investment at £129.99. But my god, what an investment it is. If you’re unsure about parting with that much cash, then the £54 LoveHoney wand is a perfectly good substitute.

I’ve never been a huge fan of bullet vibrators — and honestly, I’ve overlooked them. But, I’m not above saying I’m wrong. Especially when it comes to three bullets in particular. The So Divine Amour Lipstick Vibrator (£30), Love Not War’s Maya (£89.99) and Hot Octopuss Digit (£59.95).

Maya’s weight made it a really lovely toy to hold, and the cold metal was a pleasure to warm up against — if you like that kind of thing. Plus, it’s made from sustainable materials, which makes this a truly guilt-free wank. Whereas the Digit made it easy to use my whole hand and the toy thanks to its accessible design. But, what came up trumps for me was the Amour.

Top tip: Pair the bullet vibe with a glass toy from LoveHoney’s range for a perfect temperature play-cum-vibey duo.

Rabbits and Dual Vibrators-cum-clit-suckers

Nothing could prepare me for Je Joue’s Hera Flex (£109). Now, I love a rabbit toy, but I’ve never used one quite like this. The soft silicone is pliable, which means you can get the toy to fit you, rather than trying to fit it. It was so easy to slip into a hazy, glowy vibe, emerging pink-cheeked and gasping. To be quite honest, it’s the best rabbit I’ve ever used.

However, coming in a close second was So Divine’s Black Magic Vibrator for one reason. Its shape is fuller. To me, this felt like a much more natural design, and the handle is easy to hold, too. It also comes in at a fraction of the cost at just £65.

My least favourite, which I was surprised by, was the Lelo Enigma. No doubt, for the right kind of anatomy — this would be a body-bending toy. But I found it an awkward fit and it cost a whopping £189.

If I was to pick one out of the lot?

OK, so I couldn’t. But, here’s my top four.

LeWand, Hera and Sona 2 Travel and Amour. If you’re looking for guaranteed pleasure, these should be added straight to basket.

As for whether they’re worth the cash. Yes, and no.

The thing is, pleasure to me should be accessible. And, while all of these toys were deliciously indulgent, made from the smoothest of body-safe silicones; are waterproof and are rechargeable, there are plenty of cheaper toys on the market that will get you to where you want to get to. Plus, there’s no shame in rubbing up against a couch arm, using your hands or a shower head.

So, if you’re building your toy box, trying sex toys for the first time or unsure of what you like, my advice would be to start with something affordable. Explore different sensations and tap into what makes solo sex feel so good before making a hefty investment. Then, when you’re feeling a little bit more confident in what you know you enjoy, treat yourself to something off this list. You won’t regret it.

For the wanking pros amongst us, a little bit of luxury never hurt anyone and there’s something to be said for a toy that not only performs well but looks gorgeous. We eat with our eyes, after all.

Whatever you decide to use in the bedroom, engaging with your sexual wellness and connecting with your pleasure can only be a good thing. Luxury sex toy, or no.

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Yes, Really – Period Sex Is Good For You (And Here’s How To Do It)

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The number one film on Netflix at the moment, Fair Play, is an erotic thriller where the two characters have to conceal their relationship due to work policy.

As the film progresses, tensions rise as one is promoted and their relationship takes a dark turn.

However, this tension isn’t actually what’s got people talking, it’s actually a scene featuring period sex. Once considered highly taboo, this scene has been praised by Men’s Health, GQ, and viewers on X.

While period sex is unexpected in the film, it can actually be incredibly beneficial and enjoyable for both parties as long as you’re both comfortable and consenting.

Additionally, according to a period sex survey carried out by the period experts at Bodyform, half of adults say that they’d ‘never’ have period sex but 39% of people that get periods say that during their period is when they’d be most inclined to have sex.

So, what are the benefits of period sex?

So, aside from being something that 39% of us just want to be doing on our periods, what are the actual health benefits of having sex during your period?

According to Healthline, the biggest downside to having period sex is just the mess. Blood can get on you, your partner and your bedsheets, especially if you have a heavy flow. But, when isn’t sex just a little messy? Isn’t that part of the fun? Just me?

However, when it comes to the benefits of period sex, it seems that they can make having a period… almost enjoyable which is huge news for the 80% of us that will experience period pain at least once in our lifetimes.

This is because when you have an orgasm, the muscles of your uterus contract and release, bringing relief from period cramps. Of course, sex also triggers the release of endorphins, which are “feel good hormones”.

Finally, if you’re a migraine sufferer that tends to experience attacks during your period, a 2013 study found that many of those who do have sex during their periods say it partially or entirely relieves their attacks.

Are there any risks to having sex during your period?

Regardless of where you are in your cycle, you should practice safe sex but during your period, you should take extra caution. According to Sherry A.Ross, MD and women’s health expert, “It’s possible to not only get pregnant during your period but also to contract an STI.”

How to have period sex

Basically, it’s up to you! According to the period experts at Clue, some people choose to have sex in the shower to reduce mess while others simply put a towel down and others just enjoy getting a little bit messy!

Your period and sex life are both individual to you so whatever you think you’d feel most comfortable doing is what matters. If you’ve never done it before, you may want to work your way up to doing it without the shield of a shower or towel but there’s no shame in diving right in and either way, your uterus will thank you!

Let’s hope that representation like on Fair Play helps to stop period sex stigma all together.

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Sexual Performance Experts Share The Positions You Should Be Trying

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When it comes to penises, size is a sensitive topic. No matter how many times you hear “it’s what you do with it that matters”, a lot of people still feel insecure about the size of theirs. According to Lloyds Pharmacy, around 45% of people with penises believe that theirs is small. However, the pharmacy, only 1.6 inches or less is considered to actually be medically small and therefore eligible for treatment.

If you are feeling insecure, though, and feel that your insecurities may be impacting your performance between the sheets, there are some sex positions that are perfectly suited to small penises.

Sex positions for deeper penetration

According to Private Gym, experts in sexual performance, these are the best positions for deeper penetration:

X Marks The Spot

For this position, your partner lies down in front of you with their pelvis positioned at the same height as yours with one or both legs on your shoulders. Then, as you penetrate your partner, slowly raise their butt and back, crossing their ankles on your chest as you continue moving. According to the experts at Private Gym, crossing at the ankles increases your partner’s tightness and having your pelvises at the same height maximises penetration and depth.

Pile Driver

We cannot read the name of this without laughing. We love a get-to-the-point sex position! In this position, your partner lays on their back with each leg swung over their head, towards the floor.Now you squat over them which we know sounds deeply unsexy (yes we’re still laughing, sorry) and penetrate. To maximise penetration and offer more opportunity to stimulate the balls or clit, you can vary this position by spreading the legs outwards into a spread eagle. So, despite the name and the ‘squatting’, this is a deeply intimate position that promises fireworks for both of you.

Doggy Style With A Tighter Twist

Of course, we’re all familiar with doggy style. A favoured position with many In fact, this all-fours delight is the most commonly searched sex position in the world! However, in this snug twist, the receiving partner keeps their legs closed together, forming a tighter fit for the penis and gives opportunity for more teasing of the body while being incredibly intimate.

The Nirvana

Snuggle right into bliss with this position. Have your partner lay in front of you and you above them, with your legs spread outside of theirs, making them tighter. This alternative missionary position is even better if you slide your hands below their butt for deeper penetration and snugness. Lovely.

Basically, it really is what you do with it that matters!

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Doctors Say This Lifestyle Change Can Seriously Improve Your Sex Life

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Many of us know that the benefits of reducing or giving up alcohol all together include feeling less stressed, feeling physically healthier, and more alert but did you know that cutting out booze can also make you better in bed?

According to Dr Babak Ashrafi, a GP that specialises in sexual health, there are quite a few bedroom benefits to cutting out booze that may make you want to join the 21% of Brits that have cut out alcohol entirely over the past six months.

How giving up alcohol can improve your sex life

According to Ashrafi: “Alcohol is a central nervous system depressant with short-term and long-term effects on sexual function.

“It impairs coordination, judgement, and reaction time, leading to difficulties in achieving and maintaining erections in men.

“For women, it can increase vaginal dryness, causing discomfort during sex and reducing your libido. While it initially increases sexual desire, excessive consumption decreases libido and arousal over a prolonged period.”

This may be part of what is causing 1 in 5 people assigned male at birth to experience erectile dysfunction.

Giving up alcohol may also improve intimacy between you and your sexual partner. This is because, according to Ashrafi, giving up alcohol can reduce emotional and psychological issues such as anxiety and depression.

He adds that avoiding alcohol means that individuals may experience increased energy and stamina, allowing for “more satisfying and prolonged sexual experiences.”

Giving up alcohol will help you feel more confident in the bedroom

Many of us consider having a few drinks to be ‘liquid courage’ and while Ashrafi acknowledges that alcohol reduces inhibitions, he adds that it isn’t really a long-term solution to confidence issues.

Instead, you may find that confidence comes with the benefits of drinking less. He adds: “With lower levels of stress, anxiety and depression, your mental health can improve, making you feel happier generally.”

This correlates with studies that have found that alcohol is only a temporary solution to confidence issues and is more likely to actually reduce confidence.

Other health benefits of giving up alcohol

Still need one final nudge? We’ve got you. According to NHS Better Health, the health benefits of giving up alcohol are:

  • Feeling better in the mornings
  • Being less tired and more energetic
  • Better-looking skin
  • Saving money
  • Lower blood pressure
  • Lower risk of stroke, hypertension, cancer, and liver disease
  • Lower cholesterol levels
  • Better mood, memory, and quality of sleep

NHS Better Health also has a range of resources to help you cut down your drinking.

Help and support:

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