Empowerment boils down to perspective. What I find empowering, you may not and vice-versa.
Camille Paglia famously said:“Far from poisoning the mind, pornography shows the deepest truth about sexuality, stripped of romantic veneer.”
If I want romance. I’ll rent out a rom-com. Intimacy in porn dries my cunt out. Intimacy in porn makes me want to throw up over someone.
The #MeToo campaign has brought the issue of sexual consent, into sharp focus. And as a rape survivor, no one could be happier than me. Yet the waters become murky when we try to apply this rigid structure to sexual fantasies. The sex-positive movement boasts ‘inclusivity’ but the inclusiveness is only of an ‘approved message’.
According to the Oxford Dictionary:
Sex-positivity is having or promoting an open, tolerant, or progressive attitude towards sex and sexuality.
The sex-positive movement champions safe, healthy and consensual sex. It prides itself on being inclusive and non-judgmental. Which theoretically I subscribe to. But in my personal experience as a sexual being — I have not found this to be the case at all.
If your sexuality and self has to be ‘toned down’ to be included, that’s not equality… or inclusivity! Both should be a given and not something you get because you ticked all the appropriate boxes.
Porn films depicting ferocious sex acts and rape fantasies are seen by many feminists (not to mention the anti-porn brigade) as doing a disservice to women. It doesn’t matter that many women, (myself as an example) derive sexual pleasure via this type of porn — apparently it’s still to OUR detriment.
Women apparently need pornography censored – so we have the ability to process it. To suggest that women can’t derive sexual pleasure from viewing violent porn is just blatant sexism.
Sexual acts that I regularly participate in and write about include: sex facials, rape fantasies and double penetration. I also fail to mention ‘contraception’ in my sex blogs because I’m selling a sexual fantasy. I’m not teaching a sex-ed class.
I’m continuously told, that I must be traumatised from my sexual assault. I must be mentally ill. I must be suffering from a bad case of internalised misogyny.
It’s not my sex life that is criminal. The criminality lies in the denial of my sex life. This neglect and denial by others makes me turn to hardcore pornography even more.
- Hardcore porn has made me realise that I’m not a freak. All those fantasies I’ve been having in my head since I was a little girl (prior to watching any porn, may I add) are in other people’s heads too.
- Hardcore porn has helped me to accept my curvaceous body by seeing girls with similar bodies idolised, desired and cherished by men globally.
- Hardcore porn has shown me that there are other women out there that feel celebrated rather than demeaned when participating in hardcore sexual acts.
- Hardcore porn has given me ideas on how to be more creative during sex.
Peter Suderman states in his column for Reason.
‘There is some reasonably good evidence to suggest that increased access to pornography and violent entertainment make society better off by providing an outlet for aggressive, anti-social urges’.
I have to say, I agree with this sentiment.
In 2017, I wrote a column for iNews UK on how sex-robots could benefit women and society. The use of them by pedophiles and rapists could help prevent sexual assaults on women and children. I think hardcore pornography benefits society in a similar way. It provides a sexual outlet for people’s dark base desires.
The anti-porn movement says pornography ruins human relationships.
Well, I can only speak for myself. But pornography has only improved my sexual relationships. It’s helped open up a dialogue between me and my partner/s. And has inspired exploratory sex.
The anti-porn movement says that pornography is akin to adultery and cheating. Umm, no.
It’s natural to have sexual desires about others when in a relationship. As if you’re going to be excited about the same cock or pussy forever. Give me a break!
Australia’s biggest porn star, Angela White recently told news.com.au:
“When I was introduced to pornography, I finally found women with my body type celebrated and sexualised. I saw porn as a space where I could express and explore my sexuality, and have my sexuality celebrated rather than criticised. Porn was the first place I saw my body represented positively. Porn was the first space where I saw people being celebrated for having sex with multiple people of varying genders. When I started performing, I finally found a space where I could pursue my passion with like-minded, sex-positive peers. I feel like I belong in the adult industry. I work with people that think about sex, sexuality and sexual creativity in the same way that I do. I can’t see anything else quite like porn for me”
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I spend a minimum of two hours a day consuming porn. It makes me so happy.
Perhaps if I’d chosen porn as a career 20 years ago instead of acting or writing, I would have finally found my tribe. I would have been associating with other people who think about sex and connect to sex in the unashamed way I do.
Instead I’ve spent the last two decades as an actress and writer defending myself to the conventional nuff-nuffs who can’t see outside their own bubble.
IT’S SO BLOODY TIRING.