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Their very passionate and public intimate embrace juxtaposed against a fierce-looking team of riot police made the news photograph completely unforgettable — at least to me, as well as millions of others around the world.
They appeared to be locked in truly unrestrained, utterly surprising and spontaneous passion, depicted lying on the pavement amid the broken glass, arson fires, tear gas and the heavily geared riot police.
Sigh. It now appears that the photo that instantly went viral on the Internet captured less an act of total intimacy than of consolation — at least according to the couple and family members.
According to news reports, the couple, identified as Alexandra “Alex” Thomas and Scott Jones, an aspiring actor, only felt terror and feared for their safety.
Speaking to the a newspaper, Thomas and Jones, who were photographed in between police lines at the Vancouver riot following the city’s loss of the Stanley Cup hockey final's Game 7 on Wednesday night, described a very different scenario than what we thought (and I hoped) that we saw. According to the couple, it was an innocent act, propelled into the spotlight thanks only to a well-timed camera.
Drat!
“We were struck by police shields, pushed to the ground and I was just very, very frightened,” said Thomas. “Everything happened so fast, faster than we could ever imagine it could happen.”
Jones, 29, and his girlfriend had been watching the game at a friend’s house downtown when they first heard there was a disruption. They decided to go see what was happening.
“We wanted to go down and see for ourselves but it was crazy,” said Jones, a Perth, Australian native on a working holiday in Vancourver. His girlfriend is a Canadian. “We didn’t know where we were supposed to go. We wanted to get out of there and we ended up in the line of police marching forward.”
Thomas said she doesn’t remember the exact sequence of events, but knows she had been struck by a surge of police and was on the ground. Jones was also struck and, while on the ground, was trying to keep her calm. “I just wanted us to go home safely. It was unbelievable that it was happening and all I wanted was for us to be safe,” he said.
Jones said he remembers that his girlfriend was very stressed out and all he could do was help her out.
“Nobody was getting out of the way. It was all of a sudden they charged us. Very strong-handed and we were in one spot. The only thing we could do was try to stay calm and try to get up,” he said.
He said he talked to her and tried to calm her down by kissing her, then helped her up.
Their now infamous smooch, captured by Getty Images photographer Rich Lam, was the perfect paradoxical photo. At first, many wondered about the kissers' identity and if their kiss was possibly staged. (The Internet is notoriously skeptical, particularly about love.) But once the smoochers were identified by name, the Internet fell in love.
Suddenly, their embrace amid the chaos in the streets made for a touching photo. Jones is seen on top of Thomas, kissing her, as shield-laden riot police keep the violent protesting Canucks fans at bay. (I had thought it was a lot more intimate because the kiss appeared to be quite deep, and her clothes were also askew, exposing more than a little bit of flesh.)
Thomas said bus closures downtown meant the couple weren’t sure at first where to go. They walked to the train station and took a train out of downtown.
The next day, the couple was shocked to see their experience had been captured on film.
“When I first saw it, I thought, ‘No way, that’s not ... I can’t believe that’s us,’ ” Thomas said. “Then I looked some more and realized that is us. That’s a very revealing picture of us.”
Thomas said the response from her friends and family has been overwhelming.
“When I saw that picture I couldn’t believe it and then I looked at it more and realize it’s quite artistic and really something beautiful,” she said.
[Above: Jones and Thomas enjoy a laugh over the incident.]
On Friday morning, Jones spoke with his dad, Brett Jones, by Skype in Australia after his family first identified the couple when the photo was seen worldwide.
“How’s that for making love, not war,” the father declared on his Facebook page, telling the world that the famous Romeo in a Vancouver riot picture was his son.
“He lay down next to her to comfort her. She was crying and he just kissed her to calm her down,” Brett Jones said.
Even as a young boy, his son demonstrated his “gentle side for other people. I’m not surprised he would comfort Alex,” Brett Jones said.
Thomas, who graduated with a degree in environmental engineering from the University of Guelph, works in Vancouver on the Zipcar street team and as a technician for the FreshPure reverse-osmosis water-filtration systems in Whole Foods grocery stores.
Jones and Thomas started dating shortly after the young aspiring Australian actor arrived in Vancouver. Since leaving acting school in Melbourne, Jones has mostly been bartending, as he has been in Vancouver, but he did get one standup comedy gig in the city.
Comedy performance is “his passion,” said Brett Jones. “He has a natural ability to make people laugh.”
Brett Jones can see that the couple’s now-iconic photograph may follow them for the rest of their lives, for good or bad.
“Relationships do buckle under that pressure unless you have the ability to be very centered. Even if it wasn’t Scott, the guy who took the picture captured a moment in time that is iconic.”
The couple is leaving in a few days on a trip to California before Scott Jones heads back to Australia.
Brett Jones has no idea how right he is, iconic and then some! As per the unspoken and time honored rules of the Internet, the famous photo must now be combined with other pictures — and the more unlikely the better.
Thus: Who knew Jones and Thomas were on the scene of O.J. Simpson's car chase down the 405?
...And they were in Baghdad in 2003 when the Saddam Hussein statue was toppled?
...Theirs is the kiss seen ’round the world, and thanks to the Internet, it's also timeless.
I must admit that I MUCH prefer to hold onto my interpretation of what was happening in that photo in my mind’s eye. In point of fact, I have already unaplogetically banished the actual truth of the event entirely, and am continuing to enjoy the surprisingly arousing image of a very bold young couple having satisfying and quite public sex literally in the very middle of a violent no man’s land. Here's to fantasy.Yes!
— The Curator
My life has never been the same since first meeting Mr. Wolf more than a decade ago.
Sadly, he became so fond of me that he decided to move in without an invitation, and I have been woefully unable to evict him since, despite my very best efforts.
I have Lupus, which I refer to as “Mr. Wolf,” because lupus is the Latin word for wolf, and boy has he been snapping his big teeth at me of late.
I have the most serious form of the disease, Systemic Lupus Erythematosus (pronounced: er-uh-thee-muh-toe-sus), also called SLE, which is an autoimmune disease. As such, it is characterized by a malfunction of the immune system. In these types of diseases, the immune system cannot distinguish between the body’s own cells and tissues and that of ‘foreign’ matter. So, rather than simply producing antibodies to attack invading viruses, bacteria or other similar foreign substances, my immune system creates auto-antibodies that attack my body’s own cells and/or tissues.
Like the last of the Three Little Pigs, I've learned long ago to build my house's foundation soundly against his attacks. I have built it upon the concepts of spirituality (Wicca), love (bisexual), hard work, honesty and a willingness to play (the last has been the hardest part for me.) Nonetheless, the truth is that my house is about to come down around my ears.
The past few months have been bleak. Mr. Wolf has been feasting virtually at will — and sister, does he have a lot of will. During the current onslaught, I went to the doctor and was told what I already knew — Mr. Wolf is coming closer and closer to achieving his goal.
Last year, I had a horrible realization: I can no longer remember what it felt like to be well. Oh, I have memories of being very active, unabashedly athletic and whole, but they are no longer sense memories. It’s as if that part of my life was so insubstantial that it has been absorbed into the unreality of dream.
When I was first diagnosed more than 15 years ago, I was consumed with knowing why my own body was trying to destroy me. At first, I found myself looking deeply into the mirror: Who was this stranger that had taken over my body? And, even more importantly, how could I ever learn to live with her?
I fell into a deep-as-the-deepest ravine depression. There was nothing left of the person I once was. Nothing, absolutely nothing, remained. Or so I thought then. I had been wrong. Very wrong. A tiny, itty-bitty, bright even luminous speck of something had survived.
Was it my soul? I still don’t know, but I think so. I also came to believe it was the divine spark of creation housed within all beings; that indescribable “something” that connects us all to each other regardless of race, gender, age, creed, religion or geography. Whatever it was, I felt it. Visceral.
But for the past few months, nothing. It had been a long process, but I had finally begun to believe again that I had a body, that I was a woman, not simply a lump of flesh that temporarily housed my brain until my ever-approaching death. Unfortunately, almost imperceptibly, I had become a “thing” again.
I had thought that once I had found my “soul,” that knowledge — that sense of self, would be mine forever. It has been sobering indeed to realize that self-knowledge, even hard-fought, can be forgotten in the face of relentless disease and worsening disability. So, once again I stood on the very brink. I had managed to take a step back once before, but did I have the ability, or even the will, to do it again?
For days, I once again stared at the pill bottle, my “stash” I had hoarded for years that would bring on the ultimate darkness. If I gave in to its seduction and the sweet oblivion it promised, I would finally rest. And, I was so very, very tired.
I thought back, what had I done before? What was it that had caused me to give a damn whether I met the next dawn? Slowly, I remembered – it was that little zing of life. That shooting feeling that you are, indeed, alive. Even muted by illness it was still there, still calling me unceasingly back from suicide: Sensation.
I sighed and put the pill bottle away— again. I know now that I will not improve, or may never even stabilize again. The truce, the peaceful co-existence, the political accord that I had hammered out with him before is gone.
I must once again work to reclaim my body, make her a part of me again. Integration in a literal sense. I have been kind, nurturing, drawing her back — but that is no longer enough.
Before, it was my honest sexuality that was the key. I had worked to feel arousal again, slowly, gradually working to feel even a nano flash of sexual interest. Once I had done that, I almost immediately remembered the long-lost feeling of my “soul.”
When I was having sex, I was no longer disabled. The pain that has always been Mr. Wolf’s hallmark transcended into pleasure. Touch and intimacy has been my link to the divine for as long as I can remember. In those moments, I was my true self again. Not a disabled person on her way out, but a living, vibrant woman who was put on this planet for some purpose beyond my finite understanding.
It seems significant that I have to relearn this simple message yet again — but this time without my usual coping mechanism. My sexuality continues to elude me now, so I have to figure something else out. Perhaps I failed to appreciate that my real sense of self, my soul, cannot be wooed from the outside, but must be found within. Even though I had connected to her through my physical senses and the practice of a Divine sexuality, she is not really connected to my body at all. She exists in everything, in everyone. Even me — still.
Thus, I have decided to move forward knowing that my deterioration simply is. Mr. Wolf is real, and I can't pretend that he's just some euphemism I created to represent my disease. I need to find new ways to hang on, to continue breathing. I was given the gift of life, and it remains a gift still.
I also hereby re-dedicate my efforts to re-establish my intimate life. I want the most satisfying sex possible. For me, sex doesn’t just promote overall health, it has always meant the very breath of creation. Despite needing to learn a different way to remain connected, I refuse to give up hope that physical intimacy is lost to me now.
— The Curator
Primetime TV shows that appeal to teenagers are promoting the "sexualization" of girls at an alarming rate, including more portrayals of underage females being objectified than adults, especially for laughs, according to the Parents Television Council.
The questionable watchdog group is calling on producers, advertisers and government regulators to take an honest assessment of the sexually provocative way girls are portrayed on TV and take it down a notch. Or two.
But, is this study legitimate, or simply another way for this group to manipulate the statistics for its established agenda? The PTC is known to use scare tactics and thin statistics to jump to huge conclusions and generalizations about sex in America. It often does so without the appropriate, neutral scientific research to back up any of its claims.
PTC president Tim Winter, armed with only a 20-page study that the group released today, hosted a conference call with journalists and others to ask Hollywood to treat sex much as it has smoking: Strip it out where possible, for children's sake.
"They can step up. They can tone it down," he said, during the media blitz.
PTC analysts looked only at the top 14 scripted shows that Nielsen identified as being popular among children 12-17, including "The Office," "NCIS," "Two and a Half Men," "The Big Bang Theory" and "The Vampire Diaries."
"Underage female characters are shown participating in a higher percentage of sexual depictions compared to adults," according to the study, called 'Sexualized Teen Girls: Tinseltown's New Target' — hardly neutral language for a legitimate study.
The PTC argues that girls are increasingly shown as having their worth dependent upon their sexuality, a media phenomenon it asserts leads to passivity, depression, eating disorders and low self-esteem. In other words, TV is the root of most of the sexual evils of our time.
The report claims that 73 percent of televised sexual incidents that involved girls under 18 were designed to be funny, thus using "laughter to desensitize and trivialize topics that might normally be viewed as disturbing."
The study says 98 percent of the portrayals of underage girls acting in a sexual manner occurred with partners with whom they have no committed relationship, and 75 percent of such shows don't include the "S" descriptor beforehand to warn parents what's coming.
To bolster the PTC's case, the group put several "experts" on its conference call today, including former model Nicole Clark, who made the 2008 documentary film "Cover Girl Culture: Awakening the Media Generation."
"Our girls are being sexually objectified as young as six," said Clark, who is pregnant and broke down into tears several times during her presentation. "How did things get so crazy?"
Television executives are robbing children of their innocence — "preying on them" — she asserted, and their victims aren't strong enough to reject the destructive messages.
"Why can't the media be on our side?" she asked.
The provocative question regarding the veracity of this study was addressed in detail in an excellent column written by Chris Kelly, which appeared in today's Huffington Post. Read the opinion editorial in its entirety below, or directly at the website:
TV is Smutty, but the Parents Television Council is a Disgrace
By Chris Kelly
"L. Brent Bozell is a cheap has-been who died years ago, but that doesn't mean his work-from-home pressure group, The Parents Television Council, can't still come up with the occasional hot title for a press release. Take, for example, this week's shocking study — more than 35 hours in the making —
Sexualized Teen Girls: Tinseltown's New Target (deep breath) A Study of Teen Female Sexualization in Primetime TV
Just looking at him, you'd guess that L. Brent Bozell's savvy with technology was limited to opening cans, but you've got to hand it to him — the man can manipulate a search engine.
If there's one thing L. Brent Bozell hates about our sleazy, lowest-common-denominator media, it's teen girl sex teen female teen teen sex girls.
Especially in that dern "Tinseltown," where a smooth-talking sharpie can turn a dizzy doll's head, pitch her some woo, love her up, and leave her table dancing in some gin joint.
L. Brent Bozell is a busted valise, and the PTC is a card table, but the report has already been covered, and taken seriously, by ABC News, the Los Angeles Times, and the New York Daily News. None of which mentioned that, just to give you a feel for where the PTC is coming from, this week they made a grid of every show on network television, and said only two were appropriate for family viewing — Extreme Makeover: Home Edition and Minute to Win It.
Here's the PTC's release about the teen sex sex teen sex thing:
LOS ANGELES (December 15, 2010) In a new report, the Parents Television Council details the nature and extent of Hollywood's obsession with sexualizing teen girls. PTC's report, Tinseltown's New Target: A study of Teen Female Sexualization on Primetime TV, is based on a content analysis of the most popular primetime broadcast shows among 12 to 17-year-olds during the 2009-2010 TV season.
This content analysis was limited to just 35 hours of TV — that's including commercial time — over two weeks. They only watched scripted shows on the four major networks, so the study doesn't include reality shows, which actually make up half of top 25, or whole channels, like MTV, TLC, Adult Swim or Comedy Central — the ones that air the shows teenagers actually watch. So remember, this study of modern TV trends has been prepared by people who've never seen American Idol and don't have cable. It's like getting a tsunami warning from a man listening to a seashell.
Pretty shocking, right, Grandma? Get out your checkbook. But let's take a closer look, claim by claim.
"When underage female characters appear on screen: more sexual content is depicted."
Than when? Than when underage female characters don't appear? Than during reruns of My Little Margie? Than when the Wright Brothers pioneered powered flight? Than when the TV is off?
Not only don't we know what any of these terms mean, we don't know to what, if anything, they're being compared. We just know it's MORE.
So we turn to the study itself, and find the PTC means more sexualized images of underage female characters than adult female characters.
This could be shocking, but remember, the PTC got to pick the shows it gets to talk about. And they picked the (network, scripted) shows that teenagers watch. So, it's not really that weird that they're about teenagers, and not about adults. Would it be less creepy if teenagers were watching shows where adult women had more sex than teenagers?
And what exactly is "sexual content?" According to the PTC, it includes dancing, nudity (partial, obscured or implied) and "scenes in which sexualization was intentionally ambiguous and communicated using subtle overtones and social cues" including scenes that "required knowledge of a previous storyline or history and/or knowledge of the characters' general disposition."
Your move, Taliban.
In other words, everything and anything. They don't know smut, but they know it when they see it, kind of see it, or don't see it at all. This, of course, is lunacy.
"The teen girls show next to no negative response to being sexualized."
According to the PTC report:
"Only 5% of the underage female characters communicated any form of dislike for being sexualized (excluding scenes depicting healthy sexuality)."
Again, remember: This announcement is being made based on the close study of less TV than the average teenager sees in a weekend, and deliberately excludes the shows the average teenager chooses to watch. And by "being sexualized" the PTC sometimes means sending subtle social cues about a willingness to dance.
Let's look at where they get their 5 percent. It's in Table 3 "Frequencies and Percentages of Female Characters' Attitudes Toward Being Sexualized Based on Age":
Participant's Attitude Positive 16 Negative 2 Unclear/Neutral 23 Total Incidents 41
Look at this another way: Even given their insane definition of sex, and their tiny sample of episodes of shows — that aren't really representative of anything — they still find that 25 out of 41 underage characters' responses to being sexualized are negative, unclear or neutral.
That's 60 percent. Which could be better, but it's not bad.
"More sexual incidents occur outside of any form of a committed relationship."
Here the Parents Television Council jumps the tracks entirely. What do they imagine they want? We're talking about children. What sort of committed sexual relationships would L. Brent Bozell like eight year olds to enter? This isn't an argument; it's just dog noises.
"There is less accuracy in the TV content rating."
Goddamn it, here we go again. Than what? Less accuracy than what?
One last shocking figure from the report:
"The data show that 73% of the underage sexualized incidents were presented in a humorous manner or as a punch line to a joke."
Outrageous! Except the PTC only looked at 14 shows, and nine of them were comedies. I'm thinking the comedies were the ones making light.
By the way, of the 14 shows in the study, only six even have underage characters: Two and Half Men, Glee, The Cleveland Show, Family Guy, American Dad and The Simpsons. So by "Tinseltown," the Parents Television Council means one sitcom, one dramedy, and four cartoons, one of them over 20 years old.
Obviously sexualizing children is wrong. But so is talking nonsense about nothing in language designed to deceive. It's contemptible and obvious, and L. Brent Bozell should knock it off."
The sexualization of children is deplorable, and appears to be ans increasing phenomenon throughout our society. It is an important topic that should be looked at with neutrality, not by a group that has an established agenda and manipulates minimal statistics primarily to generate fear and its own sensational headlines and point of view.
— The Curator
This holiday season has brought up quite unexpectedly a lot of issues for me, one of them involving what sentimentality means in life and love.
As regular readers know, I have been enduring the abrupt loss of libido because of medication side-effects for treatment of Lupus. It is the first time in my adult life that my sex drive is virtually non-existent.
As a result, I have been reflecting on how integral my sex life has been in being able to express and receive love. I'm bi-sexual, and am in a long-term loving monogamous relationship with a woman. Currently, I am providing my partner with complete sexual attention, but want to cuddle afterward instead of receiving any sexual contact in return.
Surprisingly, I have been feeling really good about this arrangement, while my partner has felt some guilt. We've been trying to talk through it, since my lack of sexual interest has nothing to do with her, etc., and I really, really love being able to LOVE her to satisfaction.
Touch triggers so many memories of our lives together, a living link of connection and commitment. But, even if that were not so, we share a history that is parts sweet nostalgia and facing serious struggles – both losses and gains tallied on a ledger that has nothing to do with monetary value.
I was discussing the relative merits of our lives with my dear and very wise friend, SurvivingSurvival this week. Is sentimentality really so bad? No, he said, it's important to feel a sense of our past, and to hold it in our hands for as long as possible.
Being sentimental is not a sign of weakness, and does not have to be discarded as the flotsam and jetsam of an unproductive, unrealistic life. Rather, it can be viewed with perspective, underscoring all that we have done, and all that we have yet to do.
Like everyone on the planet of a certain age, I have loved my family, friends, partners. Every contact has left behind a memory, some through the senses, but others via a letter, or a greeting card to celebrate some distant milestone. These are personal treasures, and I choose to protect these vestiges of my life of love. They are as precious to me as the magical mist that swirls through our collective consciousness.
— The Curator
Sadly, my Mojo remains a no-show.
I have Lupus, which I refer to as “Mr. Wolf,” because lupus is the Latin word for wolf, and because it has devastated my life sufficiently to have more than earned his own pronoun.
A recent insurance nightmare forced me off of a key medication because of cost. It’s an injectable bio-medication that alters my cells so that my immune system is less whacky. Eventually, the medication was restored but not until I’d gone off of it for about three months and gotten really, really sick. I was thrilled to have the medicine again but something unexpected and unpleasant – ’natch – happened. I suffered and am suffering from horrendous side-effects. It had never occurred to me that would happen simply by resuming the medication, since I’d used it for about 10 years.
I have endured the nausea, aches, hot flashes (I’m 54 – well past menopause) and fainting spells like a trooper. But, the worst side-effect totally blind sided me: In the twinkling of an eye, my libido disappeared without even the courtesy of an adieu!
Frankly, desire has never been a problem for me, at all. My sexual issues all related to being able to perform despite the physical limitations, disability, imposed by Mr. Wolf, which not only includes losing range of motion, a lot of pain, but also debilitating fatigue. So, I had no problem getting revved, but rather staying revved at certain...critical...times.
As regular readers know, sex has been saving my life – or more precisely, has helped me decide to hold onto it for as long as I can. When I’m having sex, I am no longer disabled. The pain and misery that has been Mr. Wolf’s calling card transcends into pleasure. Touch and intimacy has been my link to life, and to the divine. In those moments, I am my true self again. Not a disabled person on her way out, but a vibrant woman who was put on this planet for some purpose beyond her finite understanding. (I have always lived my life as a sex-positive person, but if I hadn’t, Mr. Wolf would have converted me at the very first orgasm!)
Now, desire seems a foreign concept. The doctor has said she does not know when my sexuality will reassert itself. I refused to accept that and launched Project Desire, in an attempt to rekindle the ’ole fire down below.
Thus far, re-igniting desire’s flame as been a very slippery – or in my case a very non-slippery – slope.
The usual suggestions to increase desire in women who have lost or lower libido don’t really apply to me, because I’ve lost it as a result of medication issues, not through poor self-image, or some other emotional factor.
What I have been doing is:
— Continuing my usual masturbation routine, making sure that I use plenty of vulva-friendly lube! I have been an enormous proponent of solo sex for decades. It allows women, who generally have little experience with it compared to men, to take charge of their own sexuality and needs. Masturbation can teach women how they like to be touched and what they don’t like. It also teaches how to accept and love our wondrous female bodies, especially if you’ve suffered abuse in the past (I was molested when I was a young girl.) I remain committed to masturbation, even if it doesn’t lead to orgasm, it is still a very erotic, sensual practice. FYI: Let me be very clear, masturbation is REAL sex!
— Reading erotica by my favorite authors including Alison Tyler, Alison's Wonderland
, and Radclyffe, Trauma Alert
. There are so many great women writers who pen erotica. If you’ve not taken time to read any of it, do yourself a favor and experiment. Read some reviews, then jump right in. There is something for everyone’s tastes, from mild romantic fare to hard-core, explicit, fetish, kink and everything in between. If you like to fantasize about BDSM but don’t want to actually try it, reading erotica with that theme might be the perfect solution.
— Watching female produced porn, including the fabulous Crash Pad series featuring the amazing Jiz Lee and others, and the erotic DVD’s by the Welcomed Consensus. Like masturbation, fewer women than men watch porn, but the number of adult women viewers is the largest growing demographic in the field. Just like reading erotica, there is porn for every person’s tastes.
(I’m bisexual, so I like erotica and porn that is either focused on straights, gays, or a combination of the two – isn’t that so cool!)
— Doing as much sensual touch, kissing and foreplay as possible. Receiving a massage can be both sensual and a pain-reliever for me. I love this, even if it doesn’t end up in bed.
The result of the above strategy? Thus far, my libido remains in very cold storage.
I hereby make the following promise: I refuse to just give up! Damn it to hell, Mr. Wolf can have my joints, and even my ability to walk, and eventually my life, but he will not take away my sexuality forever. He will not because I WILL NOT LET HIM! Period.
— The Curator
Most faiths and secular paths alike encourage a mindful reflection back over the past year, usually coinciding with a sharp change of season.
In my religion, that mindful reflection occurs this month. It’s a time to take an honest stock of the emotional and physical “stores” of my life; a time to release behaviors that have outlived their usefulness, and to embrace new ones to improve it, as well as those that will enrich my interactions with others.
For millions around the world, this has become an annual tradition – even a Rite of sorts – to make New Year’s resolutions. For others, there is a time of “atonement” during the year specified within their individual religious/faith paths.
Whatever practice you follow, I would like to make a suggestion: When reflecting back over the year, don’t just think about how much money you made, or how much weight you gained and want to lose. But, take some time to really think about your life in terms of intimacy and sexuality.
Did you open yourself up, honestly and completely to your partner, or did you hold back and hold on to petty arguments that are festering and growing into what will become a hard shell of bitterness that will eventually enclose your heart? If you don’t have a partner, is that by conscious choice, or is there something within you that discourages that type of closeness – is it a fear of rejection, or a fear of acceptance?
When you take time to look inward, do so in private and without using a judgmental or critical eye. Do not be hard on yourself, or blame others, either. Just try really hard to “see” yourself in as unvarnished a way as possible. Think about what you believe, how you act, and how you want to improve your life. This is not an exercise in selfishness. See your life as linked to everyone else’s – how your behavior effects not just you, but everyone else around you, too.
One of the things that fascinates me about people in general, myself included, is our capacity to hold diametrically opposed values comfortably, without any cognitive dissonance whatsoever – we simply rationalize. We say that we are honest and declare that as a core value, but then act deceitfully or even treacherously in our private, and/or work lives. We allow ourselves these contradictory behaviors by saying our partner did something to deserve our withholding the truth for lies; or that we have to participate in backstabbing workplace “politics” or gossiping to further our careers, or to establish the financial security for our families.
But, does the end really justify the means when it comes to intimacy and sexuality? Is it acceptable to say anything to someone simply to get them into bed? Is it acceptable to withhold sex as a punishment in a domestic situation? Is it acceptable to have an abortion without involving the father in the decision, or even telling him about the pregnancy?
What about issues involving sexual identity. What does it do to your insides if you are bi-sexual, gay, lesbian or transgendered but are forced to live your life in the closet for fear of the emotional or physical reprisals if you disclose your true sexuality? If you are a parent, have you withdrawn your support, love and approval from your child, or even disowned them because of their sexual identity? You only have to go as far as the recent news headlines to know that homophobia has cut a swath of viciousness and hate crimes across the globe, as well as sparking suicides by victims of homophobic bullies.
Even our mainstream language reflects this growing anti-gay trend. The phrase, something’s “so gay” has been the ultimate damaging cut down, cop out and insult among teens and others in recent years, along with many others.
Science is sooo gay! Translation, "I find science boring." You are such a fag! Translation, "I think you are stupid." You queer! Translation, "You are crazy." The words gay, fag and queer fly between teenagers as insults and descriptors. However, this isn't innocent badgering, it's also building a hurtful bias of bigotry within our society that is potentially damaging self-esteem and destroying personal responsibility.
Breaking the prejudicial cycle requires immediate, intelligent parental reactions. It also requires sensitive adult reactions if you hear someone who should know better than repeat these anti-gay slurs.
A woman in Serbia commenting on the anti-gay rioting at a recent gay pride parade explained it best, "When you develop that mentality of us and them, and we hate them and we fight them, then in the end you always find somebody who is unlike you to fight."
How about you? If you are uncomfortable with a sexual identity that is not your own, can you admit that to yourself? If that level of discomfort has grown into real bigotry, can you admit that? Remember, this is not an exercise of blame, but of self-truth. No one but you will hear your answers, and no one but you can make changes if you are unhappy with them.
Then there’s sex. Are you good at giving and receiving pleasure? If not, can you tell your partner what you need, or ask them what they need and make these inquiries without recriminations or hurt feelings? It’s not about your inability or failure as a lover, it’s about honesty and achieving a level of comfort with your partner. To me, it’s about sharing your vulnerabilities, and giving each other heartfelt support.
In my experience, some women are able to give pleasure, but may have problems receiving it. It is difficult for them to let go and give themselves over completely to the sensations that their partners are creating within their bodies. If so, they may find it difficult to admit what’s going on to their partner, feeling there must be something wrong with them. As a result, the may fake orgasm, rather than talking about what’s really going on. If this is you, try to trust your partner enough to begin the discussion. And, if you are the partner hearing this issue for the first time, listen with compassion and without feeling that your love making skills are being criticized.
Some women may be unable to tell their partner what it is they like in bed, because they may not know themselves. If so, they might want to remedy that by experimenting with masturbation. Sadly, some women find masturbation even more uncomfortable to consider than being honest with their partners! I would encourage all women to explore their bodies, even if you’ve not masturbated and the mere thought of it makes you uncomfortable. If you do not know how your body works sexually, it is virtually impossible to be able to tell your partner. Masturbation would be a very positive resolution, indeed.
The lies I tell myself separate me from others, and interferes with deep, lasting intimacy with my partner. Begin your New Year with a closer relationship with everyone in your life – including yourself – by taking an unflinching look within.
— The Curator
I’m old enough and motivated enough to be really good at sex.
I know the subtle, and not so subtle, nuances required to consistently give and receive enormous pleasure. I’m not bragging, it just happens when you age – and provided that you care to learn. I have always cared to learn. That’s why these last few weeks have been especially brutal.
As regular readers know, sex has been saving my life – or more precisely, has helped me decide to hold onto it for as long as I can.
I have Lupus, which I refer to as “Mr. Wolf,” because lupus is the Latin word for wolf. I have the most serious form of the disease, Systemic Lupus Erythematosus (pronounced: er-uh-thee-muh-toe-sus), also called SLE. (Visit the Lupus Foundation of America America for more information.)
SLE is an autoimmune disease. As such, it is characterized by a malfunction of the immune system. In these types of diseases, the immune system cannot distinguish between the body’s own cells and tissues and that of ‘foreign’ matter. So, rather than simply producing antibodies to attack invading viruses, bacteria or other similar foreign substances, my immune system creates auto-antibodies that attack my body’s own cells and/or tissues. It causes a great deal of pain, stiffness, and I’m losing my ability to walk, and to use the fingers. It also often makes me really exhausted, frequently feeling like I have the flu. And at the end of it all, is the end of it all, as it’s eventually fatal.
Recently, Mr. Wolf has been really having his way with me – and not in the good way, either. (Ironically, October is Lupus Awareness Month. I am soooo very aware – but others need to become aware, too. Research for this disease needs funding, duh!)
During the current onslaught, I blogged about having had a sudden, horrible realization: I could no longer truly remember what it felt like to be well. Oh, I had memories of being very active, athletic and whole, but they were no longer sense memories. It was as if that part of my life was so insubstantial it had been absorbed into the unreality of dreams.
That’s why sex has been so very important. When I’m having sex, I am no longer disabled. The pain and misery that has been Mr. Wolf’s calling card transcends into pleasure. Touch and intimacy has been my link to life, and to the divine. In those moments, I am my true self again. Not a disabled person on her way out, but a vibrant woman who was put on this planet for some purpose beyond her finite understanding. (I have always lived my life as a sex-positive person, but if I hadn’t, Mr. Wolf would have converted me at first orgasm!)
To say that it’s not easy, emotionally or physically, to have a consistently satisfying sex life when you’re disabled, suffering from an acute disease or illness, is an enormous understatement. I worked really hard at overcoming and/or coping with my physical limitations to be truly, satisfyingly active and intimate; to re-build my core sexuality from the ground up, as it were. I was convinced that by doing that, I would establish and be able to maintain a razor thin edge of stability. My goal was not to perform sexually as I had before since that would be impossible, but to re-invent my intimate life; to re-imagine myself and the glorious, rich possibilities that only sexuality offers.
— The Curator
Almost always, sex is simply too much.
It’s too much expectation; too much pain; often just too much effort that leads to too much debilitating exhaustion; too much disappointment. I’m disabled you see, so it’s rare that sex isn’t too much. But it just as often brings too much joy; too much connection; too much divinity; too much glorious pleasure that leads to too much unbelievably soaring release. So, far too wonderful to lose. Thus, I will reach out to my partner with my broken, weakening body until I am just too, too, too totally unable to do so.
I LOVE sex. I believe and live a sex-positive life, having found a true connection with the Cosmic Creator through practicing Tantra in sexual unions. But, this has been a pretty tough year for me. I have Lupus, S.E., and it’s devastated a lot of my joints (I walk with two canes), and is now working on the ’ole noggin. I’m 53, but feel more like 93 a lot of time (and no, not the new 93 either!)
I’ve lived with the diagnosis a very long time, adjusting my sex life so that the positions required for success could be consistently met with a partner or during solo sex. Recently, that’s been more and more difficult. It may well be that I won’t be able to find a comfortable position at all some day – so I have to prepare for that horrible possibility.
You know, most disabled women and men never discuss their sex lives or sexual problems publicly or sadly, even in private. There is such an enormous layer of shame surrounding it, like it’s somehow our fault that our limbs won’t respond like a “normal,” able-bodied person. Like we’re filthy, unclean in the Biblical sense.
Recently, I looked through a bunch of free porn on the Internet. No, I’m not into it, although there’s nothing wrong with porn, and I actually surprised myself by finding some of it arousing. I had been looking for an image to copy and stylize for this blog when I ran into some very troubling information. It seems that if someone is in a wheelchair, or is otherwise visibly disabled and are depicted in porn, it is produced as “fetish sex.” FETISH SEX! In other words, not regular-people-porn. (I can’t believe I’m arguing we should be treated better by the porn industry, but I am.)
Here’s the dictionary definition of fetish: “The paraphilic focus in Fetishism involves the use of nonliving objects (the "fetish"). Among the more common fetish objects are women's underpants, bras, stockings, shoes, boots, or other wearing apparel. The person with Fetishism frequently masturbates while holding, rubbing, or smelling the fetish object or may ask the sexual partner to wear the object during their sexual encounters. Usually the fetish is required or strongly preferred for sexual excitement, and in its absence there may be erectile dysfunction in males…Usually the Paraphilia begins by adolescence, although the fetish may have been endowed with special significance earlier in childhood. Once established, Fetishism tends to be chronic.”
Obviously, fetish has also come to be used to denote any preference that has an erotic or sensual tinge to it, even if it isn’t part of a person’s traditional sex life. So someone who really loves shoes may describe themselves as having a shoe fetish. On the other hand, someone who likes to incorporate fur into their sex play may say they have fur fetish. Thus, someone who gets off by seeing someone in a wheelchair has a disabled-person fetish? Holy crap, as if life with a serious/fatal illness wasn’t rough enough already.
Everyone needs to feel good about themselves at least a little bit to be able to have sex, rotten self-esteem takes the steam out of the sizzle faster than anything else. So, when the porn industry throws us under the bus, too, it simply underscores just how the rest of society must see us, too.
I had already discovered that there are no sex aids for the disabled on the market – believe me, I’d looked everywhere. As a woman, a gadget that would help me reach would be great, or something to support my arms while I try to pleasure my partner, since my hands are unable to work long or well. Nothing, zip, nada. Soooooo, I have been forced to improvise, as I’m sure all other disabled people must, too.
In many ways, I’m lucky to be female since I don’t have to depend on holding an erection, which must be a nightmare for a lot of disabled guys. I’m also lucky because I orgasm easily and consistently – as long as the right areas can be comfortably reached, that is.
Does society really think we have no right to sex? That we are non-entities, sexless eunuchs who should stay in the background. We should know and keep our place. Above all, that we are not flesh and blood human beings with deep feelings, passionate desires, and strong sexual drives. Are you surprised to hear that we have just as many earthly needs as you have? That we have as much of a birthright to orgasm you. Or, does the real image of a disabled person deeply aroused or in full orgasm repulse you? Be brutally honest. The truth is it might even repulse you if you are disabled.
I assume that any erotica penned that involves a disabled person would be considered fetish sex, or even deviant sex. That’s too bad. We disabled know a lot about sex – we have to. We have to understand how our bodies, and yours, work to be able to have sex consistently and successfully. We know cool little – and sometimes big – tricks that you might really, really enjoy. We are also very patient, and are often forced to go nice and slow. We are generally sincerely considerate of your needs and pleasure, and very grateful for the kind, loving touches, kisses that we receive.
You see, when I have sex and the pleasure begins to build (inside or within my partner), I am no longer disabled. My body is no longer broken; I am suddenly floating free and unencumbered in the loving arms of endless, universal bliss. Is it any wonder that I do not – will not – give up this part of my life, and steadfastly refuse to apologize for it?
(FYI: The only really complete book on the subject that I've found helpful is
Ultimate Guide to Sex and Disability
, by Miriam Kaufman, et. all.)
— The Curator
Do you call out to deity during sex – when the universe dissolves and the only thing that exists is your body? Do you call out to deity during sex – when your body dissolves and the only thing that exists is the universe?
Sex is saving my life – or more precisely, has helped me decide to hold onto it for as long as I can.
I have Lupus, which I refer to as “Mr. Wolf,” because lupus is the Latin word for wolf. I have the most serious form of the disease, Systemic Lupus Erythematosus (pronounced: er-uh-thee-muh-toe-sus), also called SLE. (Click here for the Lupus Foundation of America.)
SLE is an autoimmune disease. As such, it is characterized by a malfunction of the immune system. In these types of diseases, the immune system cannot distinguish between the body’s own cells and tissues and that of ‘foreign’ matter. So, rather than simply producing antibodies to attack invading viruses, bacteria or other similar foreign substances, my immune system creates auto-antibodies that attack my body’s own cells and/or tissues.
The past few months have been bleak. Mr. Wolf has been feasting virtually at will – and sister, does he have a lot of will. During the current onslaught, I also had a sudden, horrible realization: I can no longer truly remember what it felt like to be well. Oh, I have memories of being very active, athletic and whole, but they are no longer sense memories. It’s as if that part of my life was so insubstantial it has been absorbed into the unreality of dream.
When I was first diagnosed about 15 years ago, I was consumed with knowing why my own body was trying to destroy me. At first, I found myself looking deeply into the mirror: Who was this stranger that had taken over my body? And, even more importantly, how could I ever learn to live with her?
I fell into a deep-as-the-deepest ravine depression. There was nothing left of the person I once was. Nothing, absolutely nothing, remained. Or so I thought then. I was wrong. Very wrong. A tiny, itty-bitty, bright even luminous speck of something had survived.
Was it my soul? I still don’t know, but I think so. I also came to believe it was the divine spark of creation housed within all beings; that indescribable “something” that connects us all to each other regardless of race, gender, age, creed, religion or geography. Whatever it was, I felt it. Visceral.
But for the past few months, nothing. It had been a long process, but I had finally begun to believe again that I had a body, that I was a woman, not simply a lump of flesh that temporarily housed my brain until my ever-approaching death. Unfortunately, almost imperceptibly, I had become a “thing” again.
I had thought that once I had found my “soul,” that knowledge – that sense of self, would be mine forever. It was sobering indeed to realize that self-knowledge, even hard-fought, can be forgotten in the face of relentless disease and disability. So, once again I stood on the very brink. I had managed to take a step back once before, but did I have the ability, or even the will, to do it again?
For days, I stared at the pill bottle, my “stash” I had hoarded for years that would bring on the ultimate darkness. If I gave in to its seduction and the sweet oblivion it promised, I would finally rest. And, I was so very, very tired.
I thought back, what had I done before? What was it that had caused me to give a damn whether I met the next dawn? Slowly, I remembered – it was that little zing of life. That shooting feeling that you are, indeed, alive. Even muted by illness, it was still there, still calling me unceasingly back from the brink: Sensation.
I sighed and put the pill bottle away. I would begin again. Instead of fighting with/or hiding from Mr. Wolf, I would try to regain the truce, the peaceful co-existence, the political accord that I had hammered out with him before.
Since then, I have worked to reclaim my body, make her a part of me again. Integration in a literal sense. I have been kind, nurturing, drawing her back – wooing her as would a gentle lover. A long, heart-felt embrace. The ultimate seduction: The self.
Once again, she is transformed. She is no longer the enemy, nor a victim. She is simply me. My honest sexuality remains the key. I worked to feel arousal again, even a nano flash of sexual interest. Once I did that, I almost immediately remembered the long-lost feeling of my “soul.”
When I’m having sex, I am no longer disabled. The pain that has been Mr. Wolf’s calling card transcends into pleasure. Touch and intimacy is my link to the divine. In those moments, I am my true self again. Not a disabled person on her way out, but a living, vibrant woman who was put on this planet for some purpose beyond my finite understanding.
It seems significant that I had to relearn this simple message. Perhaps I failed to appreciate that it needs to be practiced often and with mindfulness to be remembered. The truth is I can still feel – a lot. I am still a human being. So, I plan to stick around this ol’ planet of ours until I’m finally called home. My hands may shake and my legs may not work, but my heart and soul are still mine. Real intimacy reminds me when nothing else does.
It’s not easy, emotionally or physically, to have a satisfying sex life when you’re disabled; suffering from an acute disease; or illness. I am convinced, however, that it is impossible to thrive without one. Sex doesn’t just promote overall health, it promotes the very breath of life.
— The Curator
Too tired for sex? You are not alone.
About one in every four Americans married or living with someone say they are so sleep-deprived that they are often too tired to have sex, according to a new study by the National Sleep Foundation.
It has often been discussed that a lack of sleep keeps many people from work and family functions, and the report concurs. However, it is too often overlooked that fatigue can be a real excuse and not something just trumped up to turn down genuine, physical intimacy.
The ultimate impact on a couple’s neglected sex life is manifold, including a loss of closeness between partners, and increased stress. And, it doesn’t matter whether you’re hetero- bi- or homo- sexual, sleep deprivation can be a genuine impediment to regular sex.
So, take time to get your sleep so you can stay up and NOT sleep as much as possible!
The study, based on a random sampling of 1,007 adults ages 25 to 60, focused on differences in sleep habits among ethnic groups — but the responses on tiredness and sex were about the same regardless of ethnicity.
Whites were the most likely — at a rate of about 1 in 10 — to have received a diagnosis of insomnia. Blacks were the most likely to have sleep apnea, about one in seven.
Hispanics were most likely to be kept up at night worrying about work, money, relationships and health problems, with about three in every eight losing sleep over such concerns.
Asian-Americans slept the best of all, with five of every six saying they got a good night’s sleep at least a few nights a week. They were also less likely than members of other groups to watch television or drink alcohol before going to bed, and interestingly, were also less likely to share a bed with a spouse or partner, said Dr. Barbara Phillips, a sleep clinician and member of the sleep foundation’s board. She added that “what we do in the hour before bedtime is important.”
According to the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, about 60 million Americans suffer from insomnia each year. Obviously, sleeplessness can have a devastating impact not just on our sexual behavior, but on every aspect of our lives, including productivity.
Brent Scott, who headed up a sleep research project at the University of Florida, found that a poor night of sleep can actually impact how satisfied workers are with their jobs. And the National Sleep Foundation poll concluded that 40 percent of Americans are sleeping fewer than seven hours a night during the workweek. In addition, 75 percent of those surveyed reported problems sleeping a few nights a week, often resulting in missed workdays and errors on the job, among other things.
All this lack of zzzz’s will be on the minds of scientists, psychologists and sleep experts this week, as it’s National Sleep Awareness Week, an annual public education and awareness campaign from the National Sleep Foundation that runs through March 13th and coincides with the release of its yearly report on sleep. Last year’s poll results showed that 30 percent of Americans were losing sleep over the U.S. economy.
This year’s study was the organization’s first poll dedicated to exploring the sleep practices of different ethnic groups; to that end it aimed to answer the following questions in general, not just about sex:
— Do different ethnic groups sleep differently?
— Do attitudes about sleep vary among African-Americans, Whites, Hispanics and Asian-Americans?
— Do work schedules and finances impact sleep equally in all groups?
— Do sleep habits affect marital satisfaction (hey, that includes sex!) or job performance?
More than three-fourths of respondents from each ethnic group agreed that poor sleep is associated with health problems (76-83 percent). These new findings echo lessons learned by former President Bill Clinton, who recently admitted that he has adopted a new lifestyle regimen to sleep seven or more hours on the advice of his doctors.
“The Sleep in America™ poll is a springboard for research,” said Thomas Balkin, Ph.D., chairman of the National Sleep Foundation. “This year’s poll, in particular, will provide compelling insights into our current beliefs and behaviors regarding sleep, health and well-being.”
As for what a sleep-deprived individual can do, many of the tried and true sleep solutions offered by such organizations as the National Sleep Foundation seem to be just what the doctor ordered for a good night’s rest.
According to the experts, here are five ways you can perk up your productivity by getting a good night’s sleep.
— Go to sleep the same time every night. Having an established routine of going to bed and waking up at the same time each day helps your body set a natural alarm clock for falling asleep.
— Sleep in the dark. Nightlights, open curtains, bright blue alarm screens and even laptop lights can keep you up. Your body has the best chance of getting and staying asleep in relatively total darkness.
— Don’t drink before bed. Drinking caffeinated coffee, tea or soft drinks late in the day can cause a delay in getting to sleep.
— Avoid certain foods after 8 p.m. Stay away from sugary foods later in the evening and, instead, try foods that have the amino acid tryptophan in them, such as bananas, sunflower seeds and low-fat yogurt.
— Try a little white noise or waterfalls. Many people find the sound of nature (waves lapping, birds singing, rain falling) a soothing way to fall asleep. White noise has also been known to lull many a cranky web worker into a restful state.
Watching TV in bed is also a no-no, and also makes sex a lot more challenging. By the way, sex is a great natural sleep aid, and releases a lot of happy endorphins, too!
Regular sound sleep can often be achieved by developing good habits both in and out of bed. Tonight, turn off the TV, grab yourself a glass of warm milk, listen to a soothing CD, close the curtains and get yourself a good night’s rest. Tomorrow night, skip the hot beverage and grab your hottie, instead!
— The Curator
Sex doesn’t just put a smile on a man’s face, it may help keep a song in his heart, too!
A new study in the American Journal of Cardiology finds that men who have sex at least twice a week can almost halve their risk of developing serious heart disease.
Women weren't part of the study but many experts think the results would hold true for women, too.
And sex has already shown to have other health benefits, too. Other studies have shown that sexual activity may ease depression and pain by releasing natural chemicals such as endorphins in both sexes, by possibly decreasing the risk of prostate cancer in men, and boosting the immune system in both sexes by boosting immunoglobulin, which destroys invading organisms.
The researchers in this study, which was published yesterday, said the benefits of sex could stem from its physical and emotional effects on the body. Don't forget, sex can be good exercise, which might serve to protect the heart. Estimates are you burn around 60 calories during sex. So, let's say you have sex 12 times a month: Twelve times 60 is the equivalent of running seven miles!
But doctors think there is also an emotional component: Men with a desire for more sexual activity and who are able to engage in sex are likely to be healthier and might be more likely to be in a supportive intimate relationship with a regular partner, and this might improve health through stress reduction and social support.
So, doctors should ask about their patients' sex lives and vice versa: Men should consult with their doctors if they experience any sexual difficulties, because it could be a sign of heart disease.
Reporting in the American Journal of Cardiology, the researchers concluded that men with a low frequency of sexual activity have an increased risk of cardiovascular disease.
Men who reported sexual activity of once a month or less had a higher risk of cardiovascular disease than men who reported having sex twice a week or more, writes study researcher Susan A. Hall, PhD, of the department of epidemiology at the New England Research Institutes.
Previous studies have examined the link between erectile dysfunction (ED) and cardiovascular disease (CVD), but the new study is the first to look at frequency of sexual activity and heart risk independently from ED, the researchers say.
Hall and colleagues analyzed men taking part in the Massachusetts Male Aging Study, looking at erectile dysfunction plus other sexual function variables, such as libido.
The study included 1,165 men (average age in the 50s) without any history of cardiovascular disease (such as heart disease, stroke, peripheral arterial disease) at the start of the study. Of the participants, 213 had ED at the start of the study. The men were followed for 16 years, on average.
The researchers found that there was an increasing risk of cardiovascular disease with decreasing frequency of reported sexual activity. Compared to men who reported sexual activity at least 2-3 times a week, men with sexual activity of once per month or less had a 45 percent increased risk of cardiovascular disease during the study period. The findings took into account factors such as age and ED status.
"Our results suggest that a low frequency of sexual activity predicts [cardiovascular disease] independently of [erectile dysfunction] and that screening for sexual activity might be clinically useful," the researchers write.
The researchers also looked at the role of sexual desire and the capacity for sexual activity as possible factors in heart risk. Hall said that "men who are sexually active likely have libido and the capacity for physical activity. So the ability to have sex might be a marker for overall health."
Hall also says that "men who are having regular [sexual] activity might be more likely to be in a supportive intimate relationship with a regular partner; this might improve health through stress reduction and social support."
The study suggests that doctors could get clues about the cardiovascular condition and risk of patients by asking questions about their sex lives, sexual interest, and activities.
"The take-home message for men is that sexual health may predict cardiovascular health and men should consult with their doctors if they experience erectile dysfunction or sexual difficulties," Hall said.
— The Curator
