Writer's Block Magazine

Sometimes the writing process can be a bit slow. The term “writer’s block” is all too well-known to all of us writing for this magazine. When I had to come up with a new topic for my article (yes, the one you are reading right now), I did not feel satisfied with the options I had written down in my notes app, so I decided to ask my boyfriend what he thought I should write about. “Sex!”, he said. Ha-ha. Boys. So typical … But I started thinking about it and realized that maybe he was right (which you may have guessed already from the title of this article). I should write about sex; or more broadly, the human body and how we treat it. Because there is a lot to be said about it.

There is a presentation I gave in high school that I bring up in my conversations every once in a while. I was in my last year and finally started feeling a little more comfortable with myself and who I was. For this assignment, we had to pair up and give a TED Talk in front of the class about anything we wanted. My friend, who was my partner for this assignment, and I decided to talk about ‘speaking openly about sex and the human body’. We brought bananas and oranges to class (the store was out of peaches, unfortunately), played the explicit song ‘Fuck the Pain Away’ by Peaches for our intro and read out a narrative of someone losing their virginity from a book we had found at the library. We were not trying to be funny; we wanted to make people feel comfortable by showing our openness with this topic.

Going back even further down the timeline, I still remember the giggles from my fellow students during the very few sex-ed classes that we had in high school. Maybe these responses just fit our ages. Most of us were not sexually active yet, and the idea of putting a condom on a cucumber makes it  easier to dissociate and approach it in a humorous way. It did not help either that we only received sex education in our biology classes, rather than any other course, when we were discussing every body part and its nerves. We were talking about the act, but we were not discussing pleasure, consent or communication. Perhaps it was not the right setting either, because we felt anxious and insecure discussing this topic with our teachers. I do think it would have been better if they had given us more access to information about the different aspects of sex, instead of showing and telling us so little, and having young kids learn about sex through porn.

While I could probably be considered a bit of a prude (and no, I do not perceive that as a negative thing), I am not entirely oblivious to the types of videos that are available on the internet. And while I may not be the right person to express too many opinions about this phenomenon because I try to distance myself from it, the opinion that I do have is not particularly positive. I think I experience a legitimate fear when it comes to how women, but also men, perceive their bodies. Not too long ago, while I was getting dressed, I stood in front of my mirror, which is placed right next to my closet, looking for something to wear. I was completely naked and caught a quick glimpse of myself. Instead of just seeing the person that I am, I saw something else: an object of porn. A sexualized version of me. Not a person, but merely a body. It felt like a cursed thought, because I did not understand where it came from and how I could objectify myself in that way. And at the same time, I felt fear. Because if I saw myself in that way, then how many others would? Not when I am completely naked, because that is not my standard choice of wear, but when I am just being myself in a human body.

While my own experience felt mainly like it belongs to the category of objectification of women, I think it is very relevant to think about men’s bodies as well. There is such a focus on women’s breasts and bottoms, but there is also a large focus on men’s abs and biceps. When we used to discuss our curves in the girls’ changing rooms before PE, the boys may have been busy comparing their sixpacks, or likely lack thereof at that age. So many insecurities inhabit our minds from a young age, and a lot of it is based on our physical appearance and therefore also our ‘sex appeal’. Girls start growing curves which they have to show to ‘look sexy’, and boys are expected to train their bodies to look muscular. But even when we decide not to follow those ‘standards’, we are being sexualized and judged, as well as when we do dress a certain way, or show muscles, this is not an invitation to be sexualized, nor does it mean that we are automatically ‘asking for it’.

My personal main exposure to seeing sex on screen is mainly in scenes from movies and television series. There is barely anything I watch that does not include a sex scene. While most of those scenes are short, or underneath blankets and not very realistic, there are some exceptions. When Babygirl came out in 2024 starring Nicole Kidman and Harris Dickinson entangled in a seductive and passionate affair, I instantly bought a ticket for the first screening. Not because the premise spoke to me, but mainly because I enjoyed seeing Dickinson on my screen. Before the movie even started, I felt uneasy because of the big crowd in the theater that I was not used to (usually there were no more than six other people in the theater, which was now almost fully packed). I sat tensely in my chair as the story began to play out in front of me. When the first intense sex scene came on, I suddenly felt something I had not expected I would. My jaw began to tense up, I could no longer control my breathing and I closed my legs tightly against each other. I froze from discomfort. I was certainly not enjoying the ‘steamy romance’ on screen and was experiencing more of a panic attack at that moment. This feeling came back every time there was another intimate scene. The movie that everyone was talking about during the following weeks, giggling and blushing while mentioning the intimacy, made me incredibly uncomfortable. I thought that maybe it was just this movie. That the power dynamics were so corrupt that my body could sense the dangers of the intimacies, or perhaps BDSM is simply not in my personal field of sexual preferences. But the feeling came back. I began to feel that same discomfort with other portrayals of sex in other movies as well. When it is just a quick sex scene, fine. But once they are really showing the intimacy, I start to sweat and turn my head away from the screen as I cringe from uneasiness. It feels like a defect in my body. Why I am experiencing this anxiety, I do not know. Did anything happen to me in the past? Perhaps I should discuss that with a therapist (also an important and worthy form of communication!). But opening up about it to friends could be another good step, and not one that I should neglect. Am I the only one experiencing these reactions? Probably not,  because in my experience, after finally daring to speak about my insecurities, I am usually not alone in them.

Instead of thinking about it and keeping it to yourself or writing about it in an article that acts mainly as a one-way conversation with yourself (erm…), make the topic discussable. Dare to speak about the things that feel private. You can openly talk about your body without actually having to share the body with the whole world (and absolutely no shame if you do want to do the latter. It is also beautiful to want to share your beauty with the rest of humanity). But let us make sure we do not start looking at ourselves with disgust. Because there is nothing gross about the human body, about ourselves, as long as we treat it with respect.

Going back to the topic of porn, I recently saw the movie Truly Naked. A film that tries to dismantle the female-unfriendly industry of porn from up close. A boy who grew up with parents in the porn industry who has to film his dad in action, is questioned by a girl from his class with whom he is making a presentation about porn addiction. She is portrayed as an ‘ultimate feminist’, whose mother only hires female contractors, and speaks up about the hostility toward women in the working field of porn. While it was kind of a big deal for me to watch this movie (given the uncomfortable feeling I was describing earlier).  I thought it was important that this aspect is being disclosed, even though, I thought the ending of the movie was a bit weak, as it only briefly explored consensual sex which focused on the pleasure of both male and female, as well as making room for imperfections during sex, instead of being so performative focused. I think it is important that we talk about the effects that these types of media can have on how we think about sex and what we think it should look like. Sex should be enjoyable for all people involved, and even in those intimate moments where sometimes you might think you do not have to speak, it is often important to communicate, not only about consent, but also about pleasure.

Body image, insecurities, porn, sex, everything is interrelated. If porn were not as mainstream as it is, then perhaps I would not be looking at my body as a sex object. Or perhaps it is just society reflecting. Perhaps we all have intense sexual desires and I am just a little bit of a misfit. But even then, I know that I am not the only one. I might not be able to stop others from sexualizing people, but I can help to remind you that you are more than an object, and hopefully you are able to see yourself in a different light than I did when I was looking in the mirror that day.  

Of course, sex is not only a negative thing, as the perspective in this article is not particularly positive. I am not advocating for a sexless world, or a world where we cannot perceive ourselves as sexual beings and being able to be and look sexy, but I am advocating for one where we can discuss whatever is bothering us without being ashamed if it has to do with something as personal as our bodies or sexual experiences. We should not shy away from topics such as a decreased sex drive (very common for people taking the contraceptive pill), yeast infections or a torn frenulum. Of course we do not have to share every personal and private detail about our sex lives, but I do think we should step past the stigma and shame that comes with it.

Am I scared and nervous to share these personal experiences with you? Yes, absolutely I am. Perhaps I should have taken smaller steps and just told a friend. But my point is that I want people to dare to talk about these personal things that might feel like they have to remain private, even when they are bothering you. Especially when they are bothering you. Because sex should be fun and sex should be enjoyable. To quote George Michael: “Sex is something for me and you. Sex is natural, sex is good”. So let us talk about it without shame.

Written by Jomma Groot