Sex strikes in the Trump era, & what to do instead

My dear darlings: I don’t have the words to express my devastation about this week’s election result. I’m so, so sorry that we live in a world where authoritarianism is so readily embraced, time and time again, and where marginalized people are regularly thrown under the bus. It fucking sucks, and I’m furious and heartbroken and scared, and it’s absolutely okay if you are too.

People have all kinds of reactions to strong emotions like these. When the situation in question involves access to reproductive healthcare (or a lack thereof), sometimes people react by proposing a “sex strike.” Usually these strikes involve women declining to have sex with men for the duration of the strike. Sometimes, as in the 4B movement in South Korea (which unfortunately is TERFy), these strikes extend to other activities too, such as dating men, marrying men, or having children.

Some American women have proposed launching similar sex strikes in the U.S., to protest the loss of Roe v. Wade and the re-election of a rapist. Since pregnancy is even more medically risky in a Roe-less world than it already was, it makes total sense to me that many people would become voluntarily celibate at a time like this. Better to have no sex at all, they might be thinking, than to have sex that could end up literally killing them (if, for example, the pregnancy goes awry and doctors are legally forbidden to intervene because of reproductive healthcare bans).

“Sex strike” discourse is often very cis-hetero, because these strikes are largely borne out of unequal gender dynamics in the cis-het dating world, and specifically out of the healthcare disparities between cis men and cis women. However, as a queer person and an erstwhile sex educator, I can’t help but notice that these strikes are usually based on two common assumptions in hetero dating culture, both of which are simply false:

1. Sex is something that men want, and that women don’t care as much about

2. Sex that can result in pregnancy is the only kind of sex there is

Taken together, I can easily see how these two myths could lead a cis-het woman to conclude that she should just stop having sex altogether. And she is absolutely allowed to do that, for this reason or any other reason, whenever she decides to. BUT… instead of saying, “I’m avoiding sex for the foreseeable future,” I wish that more women felt empowered to say “I am avoiding penetrative sex/sex that carries a risk of pregnancy for the foreseeable future” if that’s what they would prefer, and that specific type of empowerment is what this essay will argue for.

(P.S. This piece is being sent out to all of my subscribers, including free ones – hello, I love you all! If you’d like to help support my work so I can keep doing it, even in an era of increasing puritanical censorship, becoming a premium subscriber for $5/month is a great way to do so, and is much appreciated. You’ll get a thoughtful essay like this one from me every week, and you’ll also get immediate access to HUNDREDS of past juicy paywalled essays about my sex life, wooo!)

Here’s a crucial point often left out of sex strike discourse: Many women enjoy sex! (Good sex, anyhow.) It always frustrates me when feminist tactics involve denying women pleasure, because I see women’s pleasure as one of the key goals of feminism, alongside freedom, power, and civil rights. (See adrienne maree brown’s Pleasure Activism for more on this.) Again, if someone wants to give up sex, for now or forever, that is always their prerogative – but I don’t think one should have to give up sex in order to prove an important political point that one believes in.

Penetrative sex, though? As in PIV (penis-in-vagina) sex? We should’ve de-centered it centuries ago, but now’s as good a time as any, since it’s the type of sex most likely to lead to pregnancy, which is a terrifying prospect for many of us at the moment.

Now, I know de-centering PIV is a radical proposal, so let’s do a little FAQ so I can walk you through my argument…

Q. But Kate, I’m a person with a vagina/uterus and I like PIV!

A. Yeah, me too! Love it, actually, when I’m turned on enough. Like I said, you don’t have to give it up. But if you want to drastically reduce your risk of unwanted pregnancy regardless of what form[s] of birth control you can or can’t use, nixing PIV is really the only thing that’ll be almost as effective as abstinence. (Key word: almost!)

If you like PIV but you want to give it up for a while, start by asking yourself: What qualities do you enjoy about PIV, and how can those be replicated in other ways?

For instance:

• I like deep, hard, fast penetration sometimes, the likes of which is easiest to achieve when my partner is thrusting from their hips – so a strap-on can totally do the job.

• I also like PIV because I enjoy feeling the responsiveness of my partner’s cock, and giving them pleasure with my body – both desires that can be sated via blowjobs, handjobs, titjobs, various forms of outercourse, etc.

• I sometimes enjoy the mutuality of PIV, and the way we can orgasm simultaneously from it – and for that, there’s always mutual masturbation, 69ing, or even strap-on sex with a vibrator tucked into the harness.

• Finally, I like the closeness and emotional intimacy of PIV, which can be easily found in other activities; you may need to rejig certain positions to make them feel more intimate, but it’s very doable.

Q. Wait, back up – why did you say that we should’ve de-centered PIV centuries ago?

A. You know how they say money is the root of all evils? I love PIV, but I think the fact that we put it on a pedestal (at the expense of literally every other sex act) is the root of a lot of problems in our sexual culture. Here’s five of the biggest issues with it, although there are countless others:

1. No clit stim: The majority of people with vulvas don’t reach orgasm from penetration alone, but rather, from clitoral stimulation, which PIV famously involves little-to-none of. This leads to a lot of confusion, anxiety, frustration and disappointment for people of all genders, especially since media depictions of sex often ignore this fact completely.

2. Timing issues/“premature” ejaculation: Because of the aforementioned lack of direct clit stimulation, it often takes people with vaginas longer to come during PIV (if they do at all) than people with penises, resulting in a common situation where the penis-having person feels too tired/depleted/turned off after their orgasm to satisfy their partner. This can leave one or both people feeling inadequate and unfulfilled.

3. Boner problems: Many, many people with penises struggle with erectile dysfunction at some point in their life, whether regularly or just occasionally. Non-penetrative sex acts, such as blowjobs or having a vibrator used on your dick, can often be done regardless of whether you’re hard or soft, and can even feel good enough to prompt an orgasm while flaccid in some cases. De-centering penetrative sex lessens the pressure, resentment, and insecurity that one or both partners may feel when an erectile problem comes up (so to speak).

4. Size insecurity: Many people with penises feel insecure about their dick size, and IMO this is mostly due to narratives related to PIV. Hilariously, most women don’t even get off from penetration alone, so it’s not even that, uh, big of a deal in most cases… but if PIV was de-centered, maybe dick size wouldn’t be such a source of insecurity for so many people, since they’d see that there are plenty of other ways they can give pleasure (and receive pleasure, for that matter!).

5. And of course, as discussed, pregnancy risk. Stress and anxiety are enemies of sexual arousal, and so it’s difficult for many people to enjoy a sex act that they know could end up literally endangering their life, or even just majorly changing it.

Q. But PIV is my partner’s favorite thing! How are they going to enjoy themselves in our sex life if we take PIV off the table?

A. How are you going to enjoy yourself in your sex life if you’re constantly seized by anxiety about pregnancy and what it could lead to? Is your partner’s pleasure more important than your health, safety, comfort, and peace of mind? These are not rhetorical questions. I’m actually asking you to consider your answers.

There are definitely people for whom it would be a dealbreaker to be barred from PIV, and those people are not compatible with you if you want to stop having that type of sex. (I have certain things like that too – I probably couldn’t date someone long-term who hated eating pussy, for example, and that’s fine.) But personally, I think that many reasonable, clued-in partners would understand your motives for wanting to take PIV off the menu for a while (or perhaps even forever), especially since there are alternatives that feel good too. (Ever fucked the space between someone’s lubed-up thighs, or buttcheeks? I, uh, hear good things… More on PIV alternatives below!)

Q. But PIV is the pinnacle of sex! Sex doesn’t feel like sex without PIV!

A. Watch some queer porn and take notes, my friend! Broaden your horizons!

No, but seriously – I understand this. I’ve known people who’ve felt this way – some of whom weren’t even heterosexual! – and I’ve even had times in my life when I felt this way myself. But the thing is, our sexual behaviors change with the times, and with our values. They have to. A lot of sex acts still have the same mechanics as they did when our caveperson ancestors did them, sure, but we’ve imposed new thought technologies and new actual technologies onto sex: consent, condoms, kink, vibrators, roleplay, and on and on. You can change the ways you have sex if you decide that you want to, for whatever reason(s). It may take some time to get used to the “new normal,” and to eroticize new things, but you can do it, if it’s important to you. And your partners can, too, if it’s important to them.

Q. But… what can you actually do that’s not PIV?

A. Again, I’d suggest firing up some queer porn and taking notes (even if you are actually queer yourself – there is always more to learn)! But here is a woefully incomplete list of some of the things you can do sexually that are not PIV:

• handjobs/fingering

• oral sex

• strap-on sex

• grinding/dry-humping

• rimming/analingus

• anal play/anal sex

• outercourse (fucking between someone’s thighs, buttcrack, etc.)

• titjobs (fucking between someone’s tits)

• using sex toys on each other (vibrators, dildos, butt plugs, strokers, sensation play implements…)

• masturbating in front of each other

• erotic massage (and/or regular massage)

• foot worship, worship of other body parts

• sadomasochism: spanking, scratching, biting, etc.

• kinky power exchange, roleplay, etc.

• gratuitous making out

🎶 These are a few of my favorite things… 🎶

Q. Don’t some of those activities carry pregnancy risks too?

A. Yep! Anything where semen is getting in/near a vagina is theoretically a pregnancy risk, so you may want to avoid things like unprotected anal sex or thigh-fucking to be on the safe side, as there can be drippage – or just be really careful about aim/angle. None of these things are as risky for pregnancy as PIV, though. (As for STI risk, it depends on the STI and on the sex act, but many of these activities do risk transmission of certain STIs, so, as ever, it’s best to know your status and the status of your partner[s].)

Q. What would doing this actually achieve?

A. I think it’s very challenging for sex strikes (of any kind) to reach critical mass and achieve their often-lofty goals, in part because… most people (of all genders) enjoy having sex, and enjoy the peripheral benefits of having sex (e,g, intimacy, orgasms), and simply won’t want to give it up. This is why, for instance, abstinence-only sex education doesn’t work.

So, when I suggest that some people with vulvas might prefer to take a break from PIV than to take a break from sex altogether, I’m not positing that this should be a “strike,” per se – but rather, it’s a boundary that I wish more people felt empowered to set if they want to. Straight women, in particular, often don’t feel empowered to take PIV off the menu, even if it’s regularly a source of anxiety or pain for them, rather than pleasure, because it’s seen as so central and so important for penis-owners’ satisfaction (as if that’s the only thing that should matter!).

So my goal in writing this piece is to normalize, to readers of all genders, that removing PIV from one’s sexual repertoire (for now or forever) would be a completely valid and understandable response to current events, and that if you go ahead with it (or your partner does), it doesn’t mean you’re doomed to an unsatisfying or nonexistent sex life. There is life beyond the phallocentric heteropatriarchy, I swear. Come on in; the water’s fine.

(And I’m really fucking sorry that we even have to talk about this at all, and that a bunch of rich white men think they own our bodies. Fuck that forever. Your body is yours. Godspeed, sex-positive cuties. And support your local abortion fund if you can.)