sexism

Let’s Talk About Terminology: Women

Kate Sloan

I’ll keep this post short and sweet, because I think it’s pretty self-explanatory.

Female adult humans are called women.

Do not call us “girls.” Do not infantilize us. Do not make the mistake of believing someone is “overreacting” if they take issue with being called a child.

Especially do not call us “girls” if you choose to use the word “men” in the same sentence. Do not juxtapose those two things if you do not mean them literally. Talking about female adults? “Women” is the word you are looking for.

Sometimes I like to be snarky in my enforcement of this language rule, so I trawl sex forums looking for threads with titles like, “Do girls like giving blowjobs?” and “How do girls feel about pubic hair?” and I reply (momentarily setting aside the fact that those posts try to generalize all women), “I certainly hope you’re not having sex with girls.” Or, sometimes, “I don’t know about girls, but I know some women who like giving blowjobs.”

As with any challenge to the status quo of misogynist language, there is always pushback. People scream, “You know what I meant!” And yes, I do know what was meant. I also know what was achieved: infantilization of women and the continuation of a verbal system that supports it.

Check your language. Make sure it’s not laced with oppression and archaic assumptions, ‘cause that shit’s gross.

And for those of you who pointed out that the word “girl” is in my blog name… Yep, you got me! It’s being used in a different context there, and there is a difference between “girly” and “girlish,” but yeah, this shitty language convention is extremely widespread, sometimes to the point that even feminists might not notice it!

Sharing the Sexy #22

Kate Sloan

• Hey, remember when women were seen as more sex-crazed than men? What the hell happened? Damn you, cultural paradigm…

• This zine about sex with trans women is pretty fantastic. And it taught me a sexual term I’d never heard of before: muffing!

• This teacher taught her high school class about consent. We need more of this in schools, folks.

• Here’s a call for submissions for self-produced artistic renderings of the sexyparts of trans, genderqueer, intersex and gender-fluid people.

• How to teach consent to your kids. See, it’s not that hard – and everyone should be doing it!

• A sex worker weighs in: is it always rape if there’s no enthusiastic consent?

• Carlyle Jansen discusses sexual risktaking in long-term relationships.

• These “Queer Porn Star” harnesses are very limited edition and very sexy.

Let’s Talk About Terminology: Vulva vs. Vagina

Kate Sloan

I am troubled by people who use words wrong. Especially when they do so in ways that actually impact the way people view the world. That’s why I’m launching this new feature, Let’s Talk About Terminology, to discuss sex-related terms: the right ones, the wrong ones, which is which, and why.

First up: female genitalia. Of course.

Let’s just ponder for a moment the way female genitals are viewed in our culture. They’re seen as a hole, both terrifying and enticing, through which one’s body emerged into the world and into which one wants to stick one’s dick. That’s an oversimplification, but I think it’s basically accurate.

The perception of female parts is focused around that hole – the vagina – and as a result, the entire vulva (a word which means the external female genitalia, including the clitoris, labia, mons pubis, and so on) is lumped into that name.

It may not seem like much, but it’s extremely denigrating to female sexuality. It defines our entire genital region in terms of the one part of it that is perceived as useful or desirable to our male-dominated culture.

You would never see someone use the word “balls” when they meant “penis,” or vice versa. It just doesn’t happen. Those are two specific and separate parts of that whole setup. And it ought to be the same with the female genitalia, but it isn’t.

The clitoris is an important, significant, distinct organ. The sensations it provides are different and separate from the sensations in one’s vagina. It deserves proper identification.

So I implore you: use these words correctly, and teach them to people who don’t know what they mean. Don’t let someone get away with saying they’re going to “shave their vagina” (oh, dear god, I hope not) or “lick your vagina” or whatever, unless that is what they actually, literally mean.

Vulva’s a much prettier word, anyway.