Fucking The Pain Away: How I Rediscovered My Libido During the 2016 Election
In bed with my girlfriend smelling lightly of last night’s sex, I was scanning my Twitter feed when I came across the bold declaration “The 2016 Election is Ruining Sex”. News to me — I was very surprised to hear that I was having less sex now than a year ago! Apparently, a fertility app did a survey of 928 women who identified as US citizens, and of this sample, 19% of Democrats and 9% of Republicans reported a negative impact on their sex lives because of this election.
I guess Libertarians were too busy arguing on Facebook to do the survey and that’s why they weren’t included.
The thing is, even the survey didn’t suggest that the election was “ruining sex” for at least half of the respondents, considering 67% of Republicans and 50% of Democrats reported that fucking was more important than watching the debates. I agree with this, mainly because I found the debates so painful to watch- I would have preferred watching political parody porn, which frankly would have had better performances and a better understanding of consent. And the survey also had women reporting they were having sex twice a week, which is generally the “goal” couples counselors recommend (though the idea that there’s some ideal number of times for all couples to bone rather than “what feels good to you” is of course deeply problematic).
If anything, this election is when I rediscovered my libido with a vengeance.
Yes, as an abuse survivor, I have found a lot of the coverage of Trump’s unapologetic misogyny and multiple sexual assaults (and the resultant rape apologism from men) deeply traumatic. Yes, as the lover of a fat trans woman, I have found some of the “art” taunting Trump to be rooted in disturbing beliefs about trans bodies and fat bodies. Yes, as someone who has friends and has had lovers who are Black, or immigrants, I’ve found a lot of the discussions around race in this country to be terrifyingly backwards and blatantly bigoted.
Yet it feels like now, when there is so much anger and tension and fear, is a great time to fuck. A lot. And that’s how I’ve been surviving this, as a queer person, as a poor person, as a fat person, as a woman. I’ve been having multiple orgasms as mental and physical self care. As orgasms can reduce stress, relieve insomnia, cure headaches, and lots of other things, they’re pretty much my supplement of choice. And as one of my partners is a straight white man, I figure giving me regular orgasms to prevent me from having a nervous breakdown caused by other straight white men is kind of his duty as an American.
Fucking my way through the 2016 election is also, perhaps, a form of rebellion.
One of the things on the ballot for California is Proposition 60, a prop that claims to want to protect porn performers by enforcing condom laws, but that hides in the fine print the desire of one cis white man to control the agency and privacy of sex workers throughout the state. Many many people have written excellent pieces about this proposition, so click the links to learn more.
On Saturday, I shot porn with my girlfriend on the set of Crashpad Series, a local queer porn company that may be moving away from San Francisco if Prop 60 passes… along with blocking anyone with a California IP address from viewing their site. As quite possibly the only porn site with a voter guide, I knew I was among friends. The mood on set was somber, as we knew this might be the last time Crashpad shot in California. But it was also fiercely tender, as we took turns photographing ourselves in pinup poses with ballots in hand. And the sex was hot, and queer, and rough, and unabashedly political.
We fucked on film like this porn could be our last… because it could be.
Tomorrow is Election Day. Having already mailed in my ballot (vote early, vote naked, as Jiz Lee said to me once) I am going to dress up as my old lube wrestling character Auntie Capitalism for the only kind of party that will get me through the nail-biting tension of the polls. I’m gonna slip on my dildo stuffed with good ol’ American money. Yep, I’m going to an orgy, alongside fellow queers and porn performers, to collectively fuck our pain away as the results roll in. If you think the world is going to end, why not end it with a (gang)bang?
Because sometimes you have to laugh, and sigh, and moan. If you let yourself cry, you might never stop. And tears make a terrible lubricant.
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