A three-part series featuring queer disabled voices.
Despite society’s limited conception of our capabilities as queer disabled people, we do what we want. And we have figured out beautiful adaptive systems for getting what we want, on individual and community levels, in truly sexy ways. In my experience, the meeting of the level of communication necessary to express disability-related access needs and the level of communication found in many lesbian/queer sexual interactions is a match made at the heights of heaven.
“I got really good at communication somewhere along the line, and try really hard to keep it sexy while also being like ‘hi you’re laying on my bad arm…. you hunk’ or some shit.” – Jacqueline Mary
“I do find it’s helpful though (when I have engaged in sexual activity) to just sit with the person and talk about things. Talk about what you’re both physically capable of, what you like, what you don’t like etc., and when you do have that honest conversations, there’s way less guessing and the sex is more connected and honest and open and more fun.” – Michele
You might be thinking, okay now that the talking’s over, let’s get to the sexing! And some of us do! But what’s really wonderful and necessary about queer disabled sex is that one has to be open to things not going as planned, even when planning is so necessary.
That’s what asking things like, “Does this feel good? Is this okay?” is all about, right? Adaptability and consent. All people, whether they identify as disabled or not, have access needs that they should voice with their partner, and all people, whether they’re queer or not (or just don’t know it yet!), deserve great sex and intimate experiences. In my own partnership, while I am usually bottoming, our communication regarding access needs informs what kinds of sexual activities we will do and for how long.
Who is going to be on top? Who is going to hurt who? Is it a Neve pillow queen moment? Or does daddy need it from his baby? Which arm can be propped up on this evening? Who do we want to be to each other? What will our bodies hold? All the negotiating and scheming makes for much more creative play, and much better sex. There is a lot that non-disabled people can learn from models created by queer disabled people when it comes to getting close or going down. Our disabledness informs our level of self-knowledge and body awareness during sex.
“I am blessed with a highly fulfilling sex life. My disabilities mainly mean that sometimes I’ll have to suddenly stop. Because of emotional trauma, some things will trigger me during sex, and unless I’ve come to strongly trust my partner, a part of me stays on guard. If my blood sugar drops, or if my asthma flares up, I’ll have to stop and take care of that.” – Kira
“My disabilities play a part in my sexuality. I fear and dislike being treated as if I am going to break, so as I result I enjoy rough sexual play. My disabilities affect how I date, too. I actually find it easier to have relations with several people at once instead of focus on one, because my health issues can be overwhelming. This prevents any one person from feeling like a constant caregiver and allows more flexibility in scheduling feel-good time. My disabilities can make me crave receiving pain in lieu of or with sexual activities, which can be a challenge for some of my partners as not all of them are into sadomasochism.” – Cassandra
“I think that I’ve found that as a disabled person I sometimes need more physical touch than before I was disabled. I need to feel really present in my body and grounded, and my partner’s hand on my back or a tight hug make me feel not only more connected to them, but also to myself and this body that sometimes doesn’t act how I expect.” – Angie
While many of us are tempted to say, don’t worry about me! I’m not fragile! I’m just like you! Don’t be afraid of my disabledness! This is a complex issue. Some people are literally fragile and will tell you so. I personally, am not just like you. All disabled people are different. We have our likes and our dislikes, and we have desires and needs. Some of us are kinky and poly, some of us are demisexual or asexual, some are vanilla and monogamous, etc. Some of us are too seldom asked what we want or what we like.
“People treat me like I’m asexual, made of spun glass, or they seem to be intimidated by me. I really don’t know what the problem is, I think I’m fabulous and sexy. But apparently I’m in the minority. My sexuality at this point is between me, myself, and I.” – billie rain
“I’ve never gone out of my way to date someone; relationships and interactions kinda form around my friendships. I’m only interested in being around people who understand me. Once I feel that the understanding is gone, everything is gone. For that reason, I don’t have deep interactions with anyone, especially straight men or white people, until I’m sure that they’re down with and respectful of the struggle.” – Chiara
“I’m in my first/only relationship. We don’t have sex that often, which works for us. I really prefer to be in romantic/sexual/friendship relationships with femmes. I also would be wary of dating someone with a body size much smaller than mine.” – Sarah
“Now that I have become a sex worker, that is all starting to change. I am in an open relationship and I can’t see myself going back to my previous monogamous patterns. I want to be in a poly family with people of various genders and orientations, my friend who is a sex worker into Tucson, said in a conference panel recently that her gender identity and orientation is sex worker. I feel that is true for me secondarily, and primarily my gender orientation/sexual orientation is disabled.” – Amber
To be continued…
Resources:
Radical Accessible Communities
Sick and Disabled Queers Facebook Group
Sex and Disability anthology edited by Robert McRuer and Anna Mollow
Read Neve Be’s blog and follow on Twitter and Instagram @littlebeasthood.
