Safer Queer Sex

Four Practices & Principles for Safer Queer Sex

1. STI Protection Help

When I first started having sex with other women and non-binary folk, I over-simplified safety. I echoed those reproductive-oriented assumptions by saying: I don’t even have to worry about safe sex now because I’m a lesbian, and there’s no way I’ll get pregnant. (Note that this assumption is false for various reasons, including that many trans women and genderqueer folk have penises and parts that can lead to pregnancy). But along with that ignorance, I also forgot to adequately account for STI protection until later in my lesbian journey. Unfortunately, there is still so much stigma and silence regarding STIs. But with more research and advocacy encouraging folks to speak up about these ‘taboo’ topics, we’re beginning to see how common STIs are. For instance, according to the CDC, more than one out of every six people aged 14-49 years have genital herpes in the US.

Communicating openly and honestly about our conditions and health status requires us to unpack some of that stigma. These are meaningful conversations to have before being intimate, and we should be aware that STIs can be transmitted among individuals regardless of gender. For instance, a study in 2011 found that women who have sex with women are no less at risk of STIs like chlamydia than women who have sex with men (Gorgos, 2011). So, one approach to enhancing STI protection and safety is by challenging the stigma and shame surrounding that conversation. 

It’s essential to get tested regularly, clean sex toys thoroughly (always AND especially if you’re sharing them with different partners), be aware of visual signs of oral or genital herpes like cold sores, and consider using barrier methods. Barrier methods like dental dams may feel unsexy, but some wonderful alternatives like Lorals' FDA-approved silky latex panties exist! You can listen to my interview with Melanie Cristol, the founder of Lorals, on my podcast here.

For queer folk, micro-aggressions and cis-heteronormative assumptions at the STI testing clinic or doctor's office can range from irritating to downright harmful. Try to find LGBTQIA+ friendly clinics in your area or check out services like Wisp for prescriptions made online by board-approved physicians, meaning you may be able to avoid those painful IRL interactions. 

2. The Gender-Affirming Approach

Remember that safety includes our mental and emotional well-being too! When it comes to queer sex, it’s important to avoid making assumptions. Just as we ask folks their pronouns rather than assuming, asking someone what language they refer to their genitals and other body parts can enhance safety. Don’t prescribe someone with certain words or preferred sex positions because of the way they present. For instance, it’s common for folks to assume that masc-presenting individuals are tops and that femme-presenting individuals are bottoms. While this may be the case sometimes, this definitely cannot be generalized. Everybody is different, and gender expression does not determine sexual desires, boundaries, or preferences.

Communication is key! Always ask rather than assume and ditch bottom-shaming while you’re at it. No position is superior to another, and it’s all about mindful, consent-based language that does not feed into triggers and gender dysphoria.

3. Trauma-Informed Intimacy

Trauma-informed intimacy is an approach to sexuality that makes pleasure more accessible to trauma survivors. All approaches to sexuality should be as trauma-informed as possible, and it is especially important for queer sex for multiple reasons. The following statistics are from the CDC’s National IPV and Sexual Violence Survey: 

1) Lesbian, gay, transgender, and bi-sexuals experience sexual violence at higher rates than straight people.

2) Queer folk also face higher rates of hate-motivated violence.

3) 46% of bisexual women have experienced the most extreme forms of sexual violence as compared to 17% of straight women.

4) 85% of victim advocates reported having worked with an LGTBQ+ survivor who was denied services because of their sexual orientation or gender identity.

Additionally, we are more likely to have experienced religious trauma due to anti-LGBTQ messaging in dominant religious institutions. Needless to say, our community is resilient AF and has been through a whole lot of harmful BS. We deserve care and safety, which is why safe queer sex can provide such powerful grounds for reclamation. 

Here are some practices of trauma-informed intimacy to enhance the sense of safety:

• Discuss boundaries, fears, and desires before things get too steamy. It can be challenging to voice discomfort during intimacy and arousal, so getting clear on each other’s wants and limits beforehand can make a big difference.
• Recognize your triggers and acknowledge that big feelings can arise during sex. Doing this is a compassionate and honest way of meeting ourselves where we’re at and is an excellent strategy for prevention. Ask yourself: Do certain types of smells, colors, or types of touch have painful associations? Can these things be avoided? 
• Practice aftercare by talking about what you want or need to happen after intimacy. These can be long-term practices, such as discussing whether you’d like to see each other after and what your expectations are. Or they can be more short-term practices, like cuddling, breathing, or taking space right after intimacy. Ask yourself: What would allow me to feel safer and supported within this connection?

4. Sexual Humility and Consent

As discussed, everyone has a different definition of sex. But, the most cis-heteronormative and narrow understanding of sex we repeatedly hear is one that exclusively validates P-in-V penetration and sees reproduction as the goal. Sexual script theory is the idea that sexual behavior is a result of extensive prior learning that teaches us sexual etiquette and how to interpret specific situations. According to this concept, we’ve all learned an elaborate script that tells us the who, what, when, where and why of sexual behavior (Hyde, 1994).

These scripts even inform the sequence of events that happen during sex. But, when it comes to queer sex, these scripts are tossed out the window, and we are left to a kind of improv - led by (hopefully) honest desire. For cishet folk, saying ‘do you want to have sex?’ often implies an obvious goal of P-in-V penetration (though it shouldn’t), but for queer sexual interaction, this just isn’t the case. If I say to another queer person, ‘do you want to have sex?’ we may not have a shared understanding of what sexual acts are involved. Hence, emphasized communication and clarification make for very much-needed enthusiastic consent. Because we don’t have those hetero mainstream scripts to rely upon, we must be very clear and upfront about what we actually want. Essentially, we must be prepared to define what sex means and looks like to us in any given ‘us’ situation.

I love the term ‘sexual humility’ (I just made it up, I think?) because it reminds us that there’s no such thing as being a sex expert, especially when we are with a new partner. Even if you’ve had sex with 500 other queer folks, you still must bring humility into interactions with a new sexual partner by acknowledging that everybody is different. What felt amazing for a previous partner may not feel amazing for this particular person. We should always approach sex with new partners like a series of first times! Don’t assume you know what each person likes. An “I know better than you about what feels good for your body” approach is much less caring (and hot IMO) than being curious and communicative about what that person actually likes. By checking in and asking, we affirm one another’s body wisdom, placing each individual at the center of their sexual experience, which can be a gorgeously supportive aspect of trauma-informed intimacy and healing, empowering sex.