How feminist is the sex I have? Cleo Libro asks herself this question in her new book "Gleichstellung - Sex zwischen Wunsch und Wirklichkeit. A feminist self-experiment" and takes readers into her sex life. Cleo writes about secret fantasies, exciting flirtations and failed one-night stands. And about how torn she is between the slutshaming of millennials and the TikTok enlightenment of Gen Z, between her desire to live her lust according to feminist principles and the reflex to take the path of least patriarchal resistance. In the FAIL IN LOVE NIGHTS interview, the bisexual author gives you inspiration for your sex life.
Cleo, what is feminist (hetero)sex for you?
I think I can best explain this with a little anecdote. You have to know that I rarely read comment columns under my own articles or interviews when they appear in major online media. It's usually not so good for the psyche. 😉 But when an interview with me about the book first appeared in an Austrian magazine, I clicked through the first comments out of curiosity and read the following: "What the author is describing sounds like sex in which everyone involved is simply considerate and responsible towards each other. Why does that have to be called feminist now?" And I just thought to myself: "Girl, you are SO close." Because that's what the feminist movement stands for in my understanding and experience - taking responsibility for yourself and others, solidarity with each other, acceptance of your own needs and tolerance of others'. Feminist sex is therefore a collective term for exactly that: intimacy that respects self-determination and the boundaries and needs of everyone involved.
What else is involved?
This also includes trying not to violate boundaries, but also knowing how we can behave responsibly if we do. Incidentally, this is a very important extension of the consensus discourse that I sometimes miss a little. Because even with the best (feminist) intentions, we can't always avoid making mistakes. Do we then have strategies at hand to deal with it when we have violated boundaries? Where can we learn this? This is just as much a part of responsible sex as an open culture of mistakes and communication. And the awareness that you should also broaden your own perspective to include that of the people you want to be intimate with. Being aware that my partners can experience sexuality and the context in which it takes place differently to me - that's all feminist sex, regardless of orientation.
In your book, you describe how men and women unconsciously follow a preconceived script during sexual intercourse. What does that look like and how do you get out of it?
I suspect that most people who have seen mainstream porn or a Hollywood movie with a sex scene or read a book describing hetero sex have a very similar process in mind to mine when they think of hetero sex: it usually starts with kissing and groping before somehow getting the clothes out of the way so that the "foreplay" can begin. This is often mutual oral sex or other (sometimes shorter, sometimes longer) stimulation of the clitoris to moisten the vagina and prepare it for the penetrative "main act" of lovemaking. After a while of vaginal sex in one to three different positions, it's time for the finale: his orgasm (if it's a very generous performance, at the same time as her orgasm with loud cries of pleasure), which marks the finish line before the curtain falls.
In any case, this is a stereotypical way of depicting hetero sex, but it has also happened countless times in my real sex life. And basically, there's nothing wrong with it if this sex routine is exactly what everyone involved wants and enjoys.
When does it become problematic?Â
The One study or another shows that there is a great imbalance, especially among heterosexual couples, when it comes to who has fun during this type of sex and who also experiences an orgasm. Because everything is built around a practice that emphasizes the stimulation of the penis, it should come as no surprise to anyone that people who have a penis also experience more orgasms than those without a penis. This is also known as the "gender orgasm gap". It gets even more interesting when you look at the surveys on orgasmic experiences during lesbian sex, for example: in percentage terms, the participants are much more likely to orgasm than during hetero encounters.
And why is that?Â
Most likely because in lesbian sex, the stimulation of the clitoris is much more important due to other, longer or more intense stimulation. The fact is that penetrative vaginal sex does not trigger orgasms in that many people with vaginas (only around 25 percent, depending on the study).Â
So if hetero sex primarily follows a script that emphasizes practices that can only help one of the two sides to orgasm, then this is first of all a blatant imbalance between the fulfillment of sexual needs.Â
Especially when you then consider that vaginal penetration can also often be perceived as painful or most likely lead to unwanted pregnancies. These are all problems that mainly affect the female side of the hetero couple.
Why is it important to you to make others aware of this?
It is important to me to explain why you should want to break away from this stereotypical process at all. Because simply unthinkingly shagging after what you have just come to know as the main defining model for the course of hetero sex maintains the aforementioned imbalance in the satisfaction of needs. As I said, there's nothing wrong with the personal preference of the hetero fuck script (as I affectionately call it) if you consciously choose it and everyone involved is happy with it.
But if you would like to avoid the question of responsibility for contraception, for example, or want to ensure that there is as much clitoral stimulation as penile stimulation, you should try out a few alternatives to the classic script.
It can be enough if you decide to leave out the previous "main act", namely vaginal penetration, and instead make more room for other practices that would otherwise be shorter or have never taken place before. This could be oral sex or pegging or masturbating in front of each other - the possibilities are as individual as the people who want to shape their sex! As a hetero couple, you can easily find inspiration in the queer scene. That's because there's a very long tradition of off-script sex there.
How do our ideas of femininity and masculinity influence what happens in bed?
The degree to which we are influenced by classic gender stereotypes is probably very individual and therefore different for each person. But certainly no one can absolve themselves of the fact that one or other idea of how a "real" woman or a "real" man should behave in bed has had an influence on their own sex. And here, too, it's okay if you find yourself in the representation of a gender to which you assign yourself.
But here again, it is crucial that you have thought about whether you like to remain passive during sex because you think it is only appropriate for a woman or because you actually enjoy it. Gender roles become problematic when we confuse them with rules of conduct that dictate how we should have sex, how we should dress or what kind of life we should lead. Or according to which we sort people into "right" or "wrong" gender categories and evaluate them accordingly.
What experiences have you had in this regard?
My own understanding of or rather my subliminal associations with femininity have long ensured that I have had very service-oriented sex. This means that I've always put my partner's needs above my own, even if that often meant no orgasms for me or sometimes even pain during sex. Or even having sex that I wasn't even sure I wanted to have. Partly because my idea of a woman's role was (and sometimes still is) that she has to take care of everyone and ensure harmony - whatever the cost.
How did you deal with it?
It's not easy to let go of this conditioning. Especially with this example, because there are also good things about understanding that it's important to take care of my partner's pleasure too. But the emphasis is now on the "also".Â
Seeing my own needs and their fulfillment as equally important is a slow learning process that requires a lot of practical practice and in which I don't always make progress.
This can have to do with my own daily form, but also with whether I meet partners who support me in this development or tend to work against it because they haven't yet reflected on the whole issue themselves.Â
Incidentally, this reflection also helped me to find out where my bi-panic comes from. In other words, my insecurity about living out my own bisexuality and having lesbian sex, for example. But I won't reveal the answers to that at this point 😉 You can find them in my book, though!
As a bisexual woman, what have you learned from having sex with women?Â
I've learned from having sex with other women, but also with other bisexual people in general, that it can have huge advantages if my sex partner knows my perspective. In other words, if they know what it's like when someone or something penetrates their own body. Or the carousel of thoughts that sometimes goes on in my head when I'm worried about whether I'm getting wet (enough) or taking "too long" to reach orgasm. It's really reassuring and reassuring to be intimate with people who can understand my insecurities or know that being taken inside another body is a huge sign of trust - and that it requires consideration and respect.Â
Not to mention the advantage of knowing exactly how it feels on the inside, what you're doing with your tongue... 😉Â
How can you free yourself from preconceived patterns of behavior in bed so that you experience more pleasure than frustration?Â
In a nutshell, the solution is to change your own beliefs about sexuality. Or filling in gaps in your knowledge and recognizing myths. And the following applies: learn, implement, internalize and repeat. I have the impression that we often somehow absorb "educational" information about sex or gender roles in our heads, but that putting it into practice - namely by actually and sustainably changing our own behavior - is a completely different matter. And yes, it's not easy. Suddenly having to think and act in new ways and then having to take your partners and their habits and beliefs with you. Probably while you yourself are perhaps unsure and somehow ashamed. I don't want to pretend that all of this isn't a plank! But in order to change your own beliefs, you need to put the new ones into practice in the long term. And it requires communication and cooperation with our sex partners.Â
What does this communication look like?Â
Many of us have never really learned how to talk about sex or our own needs and desires without feeling ashamed. And the shame doesn't have to disappear completely for us to start talking. We just shouldn't let it stop us talking if the alternative is a sex life that we don't really want or enjoy. So we have to practise talking.
Life is short and in the end, sex can simply be about pleasure. That's why I recommend practising communicating first with yourself - and then with other people about your own (sexual) needs. You can start small. After all, most people don't end up having to talk about sex in front of a large audience, try out new things and make mistakes - we usually only do that with a very small audience, who often also like us and wish us the best - namely our partners.
So we can dare to consider good sex as team work with them. That way, we can gradually shift from frustration to pleasure in bed.
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Thank you, Cleo!Â