transphobia

12 Days of Girly Juice 2020: 1 Fantastic Company

Kate Sloan

Here it is: my last 12 Days of Girly Juice post of 2020!

Today I’d like to bring your attention to a business I think you need to know about. They’re called ShopEnby.

Normally I highlight toy-makers here – and if I was doing that, I would need to give major shout-outs to some of my faves of the year, New York Toy Collective, Dame, and Glitter Tops – but ShopEnby has been through such a rigamarole recently that I felt it was important to feature them here.

(Content note for what’s to come: this post contains discussions of racism, transphobia, and – briefly – racist and transphobic murders.)

The store is Black- and trans-owned. Its organizational systems and product descriptions are crafted to be inclusive of a broad range of bodies and identities. The owners donate 2% of all proceeds to “a rotating list of small underfunded organizations focused on improving the lives of Queer/Trans People of Color.” Their selection of sex toys, gender affirmation gear, and wellness products is carefully curated and top-notch.

All their boundless awesomeness notwithstanding, ShopEnby faced some troubles recently when Wild Flower Sex – a sex toy company known to be disrespectful to Black femmes (more info here) – threatened them with a lawsuit over the usage of the word “enby,” because Wild Flower makes a vibrator by that name.

You know, “enby,” the colloquial term sometimes used by non-binary people to refer to themselves? Yeah. Wild Flower claimed that that word is theirs. Theirs to use, for profit, and no one else’s.

While it’s certainly their prerogative to use that word for themselves (and indeed, Wild Flower’s cofounders use they/them and he/they pronouns respectively, though I don’t know whether they identify as non-binary or as enbies), no one can own that word. It would be as ridiculous as trying to trademark terms like “lesbian,” “gay,” or “bisexual.” These are labels of identification and ways of finding community, not commodities to be bought or sold.

In response to the threats, ShopEnby set up a legal defense fund on GoFundMe, which you can still donate to. You can also support them by making purchases from their store. I can heartily recommend, for example, the Magic Wand Rechargeable, Dame Arc, and We-Vibe Rave, all of which they sell. If you believe it’s better to support marginalized small business owners than big-box stores of dubious ethics, this is a lovely way to put your money where your mouth is! (It may be too late to get gifts for this holiday season, but Valentine’s Day is coming up fast…)

It was particularly shocking to see the news about the threatened lawsuit in a year where Black people and trans people have been so prominently targeted. Granted, those groups are targeted in various ways all the time, but this was the year when George Floyd and many others were murdered by racist police, when trans people were killed at record levels, when a beloved children’s author showed her whole ass by perpetuating dangerous transphobic rhetoric on a massive scale. Black and trans people have been through more than enough this year, and every year. How dare anyone try to take away a word that causes no harm, helps many people feel more like themselves, and does not – cannot – belong to anyone except the entire community it represents.

Why Sex Writing Matters Right Now

Kate Sloan
Moleskine notebooks, a Seven-Year Pen, and a Feminist Killjoy sticker

Every morning that I wake up and read the news (or Twitter), I ask myself: why am I still doing what I’m doing?

In the face of all that’s going on, sometimes it seems pointless to write about sex toys, kink, lipstick, and dating. Why would anyone want to write, or read, about a comparatively frivolous and small-scale issue like sex, in a world that feels like it’s crumbling around us?

Answer: sex isn’t frivolous or small-scale.

Here’s why sex writing matters, even now, even still.

 

Because people are still having sex. There will always be people having sex. Those people need to know how to have sex safely, ethically, and pleasurably.

Because sex education is being stripped left and right. Kids, teens, and even adults need and deserve accurate, sensitive, non-stigmatizing information about sex.

Because if you understand how sex functions in our culture, you understand a lot about gender dynamics and gender politics. We need a better understanding of those things in order to reduce violence and encourage social harmony.

Because sex work is still devalued in our culture and sex workers are still treated terribly. They deserve better and the world deserves to know that and understand that.

Because rape and sexual harassment are still rampant issues, have been forever, and will continue to be. We can partly combat this epidemic by talking about what consent means, shaming abusers, and showing the world we will not stand for sexually exploitative behavior.

Because sexual entitlement and bitter misogyny still fuel horrible crimes. Good sex writing can help humanize us to each other and demonstrate that sex is not an owed commodity but, instead, an earned collaboration.

Because they’re trying to take our reproductive rights away from us. Again. It hasn’t been okay any of the previous times they did it, and it’s not okay now.

Because abusers still throw kinky people under the bus, making us feel stigmatized, freakish, and alone. We have felt that way for a long time. Enough is enough.

Because when you’re mired in sexual shame – shame about deep, unchangeable parts of you – you have less emotional energy for other things that matter, including political activism, charitable work, and sustaining the relationships that keep you afloat.

Because queer people and trans people are still vulnerable, still scared, and their stories still matter. Telling those stories is one way to convince the world, slowly but surely, that they do indeed matter.

Because pleasure – especially the pleasure of marginalized people – is transgressive. It has been denied from us for far too long, and we deserve far more of it.

Because asexuality is still erased, misunderstood, and sometimes used as “justification” for assault. This cannot be allowed to continue, and better education (including writing on asexuality) can help reduce these effects.

Because one of our most powerful world leaders right now is an admitted sexual abuser and not nearly enough people seem to know or care about this.

Because making art, and consuming art, can be a welcome respite from this cruel world, and can feel motivating when motivation is in short supply.

Because content creators still need and deserve to make money. Capitalism, unfortunately, doesn’t break down just because lots of other things are.

Because the better we understand ourselves – including our sexuality – the better we can harness our skills and talents to fight the powers that be.

Because distraction can be self-care, used sparingly, and maybe your diversion of choice is reading about other people’s sex lives and romances. That is fine. Welcome. I’m glad you’re here.

Because sex is a unifying experience for much of humankind, and we need to feel united and connected now more than ever.

Because pleasure is still a worthwhile pursuit – even if the world is burning, even if systems are breaking down and people are suffering. Sometimes you need a dose of pleasure to replenish your strength so you can get back out there and keep doing the work.

Because sex can be romantic, and kink can be connective, and the world needs less fear, less anger, and more love.

Because good sex writing, like all good literature, encourages empathy – something our current world is sorely lacking. We’ll need empathy, every one of us, for whatever happens next.

 

Why does sex writing matter to you? Even now, even still? And what else are you doing to cope in these trying times?

P.S. Looking for some great sex writing? Try these sites (listed alphabetically): Ace in the Hole, Bex Talks Sex, Coffee & Kink, Dangerous Lilly, Dildo or Dildon’t, the Dirty Normal, Feisty Fox Films, Formidable Femme, Girl on the Net, Hey Epiphora, Mx Nillin, Poly Role Models, Red Hot Suz, the Redhead Bedhead, Sexational, Squeaky Bedsprings, Sugarcunt Writes.

Sharing the Sexy #14

Kate Sloan

• This lady hacked a Lelo vibrator to create something much more interesting.

• Buck Angel said something really victim-blame-y about trans women and the disclosure myth.

• Ladies and gentlemen, the great Khadeja Wilkinson: “Feminism does not hate men. Period.”

• “Friendzoning” is bullshit and here’s why.

• Lilly explains why carrots don’t make good dildos. Don’t do it, y’all!

• Evil Slutopia tears up Cosmo for suggesting that male bisexuality is wrong. Ugh, Cosmo, when will you ever get your shit together?

• Here’s a little round-up of links about the fine line between romance and abuse in Fifty Shades of Grey.

• Wait, what? A straight male feminist comedian? So refreshing, honestly. ♥

• Jenna Marbles made a slut-shamey video that was so gross, I won’t even link to it – and then Laci Green responded, and so did my homegirl Caitlin.

The “Cis” Issue

Kate Sloan

I created this blog as a place to discuss sex toys and sexuality. However, I knew there would be other tangential topics covered here, because, for anyone who cares strongly about sex, it is inevitably bound up with politics. Fighting for what you want in bed is connected to fighting for how you want the world to view sex: it’s all about bringing down walls and destroying shame in any way you can.

For the past nine months, I’ve been volunteering at an LGBTQ organization, and for the two years before that, I volunteered in a trans-and-genderqueer-specific space (I’m not trans, myself, but have dated a trans person, been friends with trans people, and consider myself an ally). In all that time, my knowledge and understanding of trans issues has steadily grown, and I wanted to talk a bit about that today.

I’ve recently gotten into two different debates with two different people online about the term “cis.” Incase you don’t know, cis (shortened from cissexual or cisgender) simply means “not trans” – i.e. born with a body that matches one’s gender identity. I’m a cis female, for example, because my body indicated that I was female when I was born, and I have grown up to feel that I am, indeed, female.

The people I got into debates with had two different points to make, but they were essentially the same thing, because they came from a similar place of ignorant cis privilege:
1. “Though my body has always matched my gender identity, I hate being called cis because it has a negative connotation. If someone called me cis, I would correct them.”
2. “The term cis is unnecessary. Why not just differentiate people as ‘trans’ or ‘not trans’?”

These arguments made me so angry because the people who made them were totally unwilling to listen to reason. Having never experienced trans-ness or apparently been around trans people, they couldn’t understand the hurtfulness, political incorrectness, and ignorance of what they were saying. So I’d like to respond to these two points here, maybe so I can clear up these issues for cis people who may be wondering about the same things, but want to be more conscientious about their stance.

In response to the first argument: First off, if your body has always matched your gender identity, you are cis. It is a factual descriptor of your identity, every bit as much as “Canadian” describes my identity because I was born in Canada and remain a Canadian citizen. While you, yourself, don’t necessarily have to use the term “cis” in reference to yourself if you don’t want to, people are going to refer to you by it when it becomes relevant, just as someone with solely opposite-sex attractions might be referred to as straight if they were hanging out in queer spaces. It’s just a way to differentiate.

Next, the idea that “cis” has a negative connotation… Well, yes, in some spaces, it might. For trans or genderqueer people who feel that they’ve been wronged by cissexism and use extremist phrases like “die, cis scum,” the word cis may exist in a negative light. But for the vast majority of us, it doesn’t – as I said before, it’s simply an objective descriptor.

Frankly, you can’t choose to reject a descriptor just because you don’t like the connotation it occasionally comes with. I can’t tell people I’m not white, just because I feel like my whiteness makes me come off as “privileged.” My whiteness does privilege me – this is a fact I cannot ignore or pretend away – but it’s what I do with myself that decides whether or not I’m a privileged asshat. No sane and intelligent person is ever going to call me rude things just for being white, but they might if I do shit that only an ignorant privileged person would do.

Bottom line: If you don’t like the term cis, don’t use it to describe yourself, fine, but other people are going to use it when it becomes important to make that distinction. And if you don’t like the so-called “negative connotation” that comes with being cis, you better get out there and do shit that proves that cis people can be helpful trans allies, rather than just perpetuating that negative image of cis people by being ignorant and needlessly irate.

In response to the second argument: People who argue that the term “cis” is unnecessary are overwhelmingly almost always ignorant cis people, so of course they don’t understand why the term is necessary – they’ve gone through life assuming everyone is cis unless told otherwise, and so they don’t see a reason why it would ever be important to have a word to describe “normal,” non-trans folks.

When trying to explain why the term is needed, I always refer back to a story I was told by a wonderful trans woman who came to teach my volunteer group about trans issues. She was at a psychiatric consultation in a queer-friendly health centre. The psychiatrist was asking her various questions about her mental health situation and her life. The woman said she was attracted primarily to other women, and the psychiatrist said, “So are you mostly attracted to trans women, or real women?”

Obviously, as a trans woman, the term “real women” used to describe cis women can be not only deeply offensive, but also horrifically triggering in some cases. Trans people have spent their entire lives being told they “aren’t really” their gender, even though they’ve usually known their true gender since they were old enough to understand such things. There is no reason whatsoever for anyone to dredge up those horrible memories and feelings by using offensive terms like “real man” or “real woman,” which is why the word “cis” is proposed as a respectful alternative to those kinds of phrases.

Bottom line: “Real” is a point of debate – the world may never agree on whether it’s a penis or a mental perception that makes a man a “real man” – but “cis” and “trans” are not. They are inoffensive, objective terms, designed to differentiate between two groups of people without hurting anyone in either group, and for the most part, they do this very well, so we should use them.

Readers: Do you hear the word “cis” being used in your circles? What are your thoughts on its validity, connotations, and usage? Do you identify as cis? Why or why not?