By Emily Mayled

 

There is no denying that the heterosexual experience in contemporary society is favoured over other sexualities. Relentlessly, hetero romance is poured down our throats in television and film. We are fed song lyrics about a princess and her prince, and we are held under the expectation that this is what we too desire. But it doesn’t stop there.

 

Pornography, rom-coms, and even literature all place emphasis on penis-in-vagina penetrative sex. A person with a vagina is a symbol of purity until they are deflowered; they are penetrated. But they are still a virgin if they chose to use a dildo beforehand? The dynamics are questionable, but they are seemingly set in stone.

 

That is, of course, until we look at queer individuals and how they choose to engage in sex. There are fewer expectations placed upon queer sex, which consequently leaves more room for exploration of exciting, ‘un-ordinary’ sexual dynamics and moments of intimacy.

 

Sex, even in heterosexual, cis-gendered pairings, is still a topic that is recovering from years of taboo. To then begin a discussion about the dynamics of queer sex and intimacy feels rebellious. There is a distinct lack of communication about our community in the first place, let alone for a more niche topic such as this.

 

Sex and intimacy are two of the most natural things in the world. Humans are drawn to each other as much as they are drawn to pleasurable experiences (obviously, excluding those who do not wish to engage in sex acts for whatever reason), and this does not exclude queer people, whether society is willing to accept that or not. Taking it upon myself to explore the varying sexual and intimate dynamics of queer people that I myself am not familiar with, I asked my queer following on Instagram to fill out a short questionnaire on various sex-related topics.

 

Below are said questions and a few of the answers, as well as a general roundup of the standout opinions and beliefs, to which I am not attaching my own opinion. That is not the purpose of this article. Rather, the purpose is to highlight what several queer people define sex to be to them personally.

 

As a member of the LGBTQIA+ community, how do you define sex and intimacy?

 

Perhaps, as expected, it appears as though queer people typically define sex outside of the usual, heteronormative consensus that sex is only penis-in-vagina penetration! Rather, as Hannah (She/They), who identifies as queer, answered, ‘Intimacy is any intimate contact.’ Meaning, foreplay becomes defined as sex, as well as general touching, kissing, etc. For Hannah, the whole intimate experience is sexual in nature and consequently can be defined as such, whether penetration occurs or not.

 

Most of the answers received placed emphasis on the emotional and intimate connection that sexual acts form between two (or more!) individuals engaging in said behaviour. The physicality of the act takes the back burner, with emphasis on what can grow mentally and emotionally between participants during intimate moments. Lily (She/They), who identifies as a lesbian, defines sex and intimacy as, ‘Feeling truly connected to the other person.’ ‘It’s all about experiencing each other and making each other feel special in the moment. That’s what’s intimate, rather than just sex.’

 

How do you feel an LGBTQIA+ identity has impacted the dynamics of your sexual and intimate experiences?

 

The consensus regarding this question was overwhelmingly positive, with many of the answers highlighting that an LGBTQIA+ identity has impacted their sexual experiences in a way that is incredibly beneficial. It appears that by ‘going against’ the societal norm in something as significant as one’s sexuality, a queer individual can experience less structured and guided sexual encounters that are far less policed by societal expectations. The result is a delightful, progressive openness in sexual behaviour that creates the space for exploration and discovery and, consequently, a more tailored and personalised sexual experience with oneself or partner(s) that is very enjoyable.

 

A different Hannah (She/Her) that responded to the questionnaire typically identifies as queer or pansexual. She suggests, ‘As a queer woman and freshly out of the closet, my identity has permitted me to be vulnerable when it comes to my kinks, pleasures, insecurities, and curiosities.’ Whilst Chloe (She/her), who also identifies as queer, highlighted that she feels, ‘Freer and safer in my relationships since I came out.’

 

Do you think your identity has created different types of relationships (long-term and/or casual), whether sexual or not, to what is typically portrayed in mainstream media?

 

It is of no surprise that practically every individual stated that mainstream media does not do a good job of representing the various dynamics of queer relationships, sexual or otherwise. There tends to be a focus on cis-gendered, MLM (man-loving-man) relationships, with very little representation of WLW relationships or relationships that include trans/non-binary individuals. And when lesbianism is portrayed, ‘Lesbian sex in the media is highly sexualised for the benefit of men’, as another participant (who wishes to remain anonymous) critiqued. WLW sexual encounters often fall victim to a heteronormative and therefore ‘palatable’ expectation of sex (spoiler alert: not every lesbian enjoys scissoring).

 

Hannah (She/Her) raised an important point, which is that due to a lack of education, inaccurate representations in porn (because WLW pornography is catered for men), and the mainstream media, the focus tends to be on the ‘how to’ of queer sex and what it entails. Lesbians often find themselves on the receiving end of ‘How do you have sex?’ more often than they are asked about their relationship. Hannah emphasised that she has, ‘Never seen mainstream media depict a queer relationship that dove into the dynamics outside of a sexual context because that’s all people seem to be able to focus on.’

 

It is clear that the dynamics of queer sex and intimacy differ from what we have traditionally been taught to think of as ‘sex’. In a way that is parallel to the queer experience of society, the dynamics of queer sex and intimacy are unique to the individuals involved. Sex is a personal practice; it is a natural one, and it is a ridiculous notion to shy away from the topic when it is something that is innate in many of us, especially if an individual is queer and engages in a type of sex that is inherently different to what we might usually expect.

 

Everyone deserves representation, and queer people deserve an accurate and expansive depiction of the different sexual dynamics they may partake in. We deserve accurate pornography that is not catered towards men, we deserve a chance to define what sex is to us, and we deserve accurate depictions of what our distinctive and beautiful relationships look like. We deserve sex and intimacy, in whatever form that may be, and we deserve the chance to talk about it, too.

 

Unfortunately, I was unable to include every response due to word count limitations. But I would like to thank everyone who took the time to answer and partake, anyway. It was super insightful!