My latest piece for Sex Really discusses whether the “rape by deception” law in Israel was paternalistic in its application in a case involving an Arab man who lied to his partner about being Jewish.
Second episode of Sex Really With Lena Chen. This time, I take a field trip to Babeland (NYC’s Lower East Side location) to compose a novice’s guide to sex toy shopping. Also, I created opening credits that incorporate footage of a humping Hamlet. Please watch and learn.
(And leave feedback, duh!)
Talkin’ IUDs for Sex Really. This is the first of many videos I’ll be producing throughout the year, and I promise that once I get this iMovie-kills-my-Macbook-Air thing under control, the production quality will be a lot better.
Could the IUD be right for you? Check out this episode’s accompanying article on the website. Next time, I’ll be discussing the virginity myth and this summer, I’m hoping to produce a German edition of Sex Really from Berlin. Have an idea for a new episode? Let me know in the comments!
And please reblog and tweet this out to your friends.
I was really displeased with Slate’s inaccurate portrayal of the Rethinking Virginity Conference, so I contacted Jessica Grose and she published the official “Lena Chen Is Not An Abstinence Pusher” rebuttal to Double X, the women’s blog. I remain less than pleased that the original article is still up with the subheading “‘sex positive’ young women reconsider abstinence”, so I’m going to rant a little bit about what I was most offended by, since I’ve now had a couple days to cool down.
I’m still really miffed that there’s so much about my personal life — which makes up most of the article! I spoke to Grose on the phone for 20 minutes and then she went to the conference; I definitely didn’t think the former was going to constitute most of the article. As such, some of the information is just not true and some is plain odd. For example, I didn’t actually adopt my bulldog Hamlet as the article claims (my partner did two years before we met), and my Hustler article was listed as evidence of my racy past, but the piece was on academic freedom and had nothing to do with sex. Had I been asked about either of these things, I could have clarified, but it seems like most of this was information pulled from my old blog without any context.
Most disappointing is that Slate just completely ignored all the great queer perspectives we had at the conference and made it seem like this event was exclusively about straight sex. The whole point of “rethinking virginity” is realizing that the concept of virginity perpetuates the idea that there is only one kind of “real” sex, that being vaginal penetrative intercourse. Overemphasizing virginity narrows the spectrum of acceptable sexual behavior and invalidates the experiences of queer people and others who don’t engage in intercourse as the primary sexual act. It’s so deeply disappointing that Slate, a supposedly progressive publication, ignored that the Harvard College Queer Students & Allies hosted the conference and ignored the consistent emphasis on promoting a spectrum of sexuality.
And tellingly, Slate also ignored the speakers that did not fit into the mold of what a sex positive young woman should look like. That mold apparently includes people like Emily Gould, Meghan McCain, and me, but as far as I know, the other two don’t even identify as sex-positive. Why not include an example of someone who’s queer and sex-positive? There are so many individuals that could be referenced. But I’m not sure the thought even crossed Grose’s mind. In my experience, there’s a tendency, even among liberals, to think that queer sexuality is this whole separate realm that has nothing to do with straight sex. Not only is that ignorant, that’s straight privilege, and a lot of people — plenty of my friends included — are guilty of it. Even progressive media is guilty of it. (For a queer safe-sex/sex-pos perspective, check out Oscar Raymundo’s Confessions Of A Boy Toy.)
As any long-time readers of this blog know, I have very clear and consistent views about sexual freedom and personal responsibility, both of which are crucial to sex-positive feminism. If you attended Rethinking Virginity or read some of the post-conference press, it’s really obvious that the panelists were hardly scolding anyone. Did some of them express strong disapproval of non-monogamous, unprotected sex? Absolutely. But look, let’s not kid ourselves. Who actually thinks it’s a good idea for large groups of people to fuck other groups of people without protection and then swap partners and go on? If that makes me a scold, then I’m just going to change my name to Katie Roiphe and call it a day.
As for talking about abstinence, I think it’s a shame that someone can’t bring it up without be accused of becoming conservative. Sex-positive abstinence is not only smart from a public health perspective (since kids need comprehensive and age-appropriate sex education), but it’s absolutely crucial to include those who share our views about personal freedom, but who might not actually have sex. We need to stop talking derisively about virgins like they don’t exist. You’re not just anti-feminist but an asshole if you write off someone because they haven’t had sex.
Feedback? Thoughts? Am I really a scold? Tell me in the comments.
My latest piece on Sex Really is about digital miscommunication. Some factoids:
- Recipients of sarcastic emails in one study could only identify the sarcasm 56 percent of the time (a rate that is essentially equivalent to taking a guess).
- One (non-scientific) poll found that 43 percent of teens use instant messaging to deal with awkward situations
- Tumblr’s Jess Chu wants to “cut the BS” from her love life by sending fewer “pointless unclear texts”
Thoughts? Comments? Share ‘em! (It’s been ages since I’ve had to date-and-text, but oh, the tales I could tell …)
My American Prospect piece on the college abstinence movement was included in Friday’s edition of the Women’s Health Policy Report, which is published daily by the National Partnership for Women & Families. I’ve been a long-time subscriber to this amazing resource on women’s health policy and reproductive health, so the mention is very exciting!
Never posted this, but here’s my favorite (and admittedly ridiculous) photo from the shoot I did with Christine Yu for our Sex Ed series being published in The Harvard Voice and The MIT Tech. The above was taken for our most recent installment, a guide on sex toys for women. Don’t we look terribly enthusiastic about the topic? If you’re a beginner at buying these things, my article includes tips on how to select, care for, and use your toys. I guarantee that you will be just as happy as we look once you master these basics :)
Christine and I will be writing again in February with sex toys for couples and novelty adult products. Stay tuned!
I can’t count the number of times reporters have approached me hoping for a juicy sound bite about what the hook-up culture is really like, only to instead encounter a barrage of facts about the great majority of Americans having had premarital sex for, um, generations. Mainstream reporters either have a major aversion to peer-reviewed studies, or they don’t like being told that their granny probably didn’t keep her legs closed, because time and time again, they’ve dropped all communication the second I dare to question the phenomenon of college kids gone wild. The story becomes a lot less salacious when you realize that the so-called “hook-up culture” is just a new alarmist name attached to behavior in which young people have engaged for decades.
In which I debunk the myth of the college hook-up culture and its consequences. It’s all made-up, kids. Don’t be fooled by the abstinence-only nuts.
Few side effects and affordability are just a couple reasons why more women (and yes, even young women) should look into the IUD as an alternative to the more commonly used birth control pill. To learn about the other pluses, read my full article on YourTango.com.
I finally found myself face-to-face with a foot-long box containing my IUD. Thankfully, the size was misleading. The IUD is actually just 1.5 inches long. Still, that little device was responsible for the most painful experience of my life and I say this as someone who’s gotten five piercings and a tattoo … Unless you’re certain you can withstand a lot of pain, going the all-natural route might lead to a rude cervical awakening. Here are a few things that you can do to avoid my experience…
I spent years taking birth control pills on and off, depending on the state of my sex and love life, but when I met Patrick, I started a long, unbroken streak of pill-popping. Perhaps it was just my particular prescription, but over a year later, my sex drive had waned considerably and intercourse became uncomfortable — even painful. I’m really glad I decided to look into the IUD. It’s been more than a month since I’ve completed the switch, and my body (specifically, my vagina) is beginning to revert to its perky, pre-Pill self. I have to admit that when I decided to go off birth control pills, it was all based on a hunch. I didn’t know for sure why my body was behaving so erratically, but I figured that it couldn’t hurt to reduce the amount of hormones I ingested.
The one downside of the IUD? Putting it in hurts. In my case, it hurt a lot. Don’t let that discourage you, though. I accompanied Kennedy to her IUD appointment the week after mine, and she didn’t even realize when the doctor inserted it. There are also a lot of precautions which you can take to avoid my experience. If you’re considering an IUD, do yourself a favor and read my piece on SexReally.com.
