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Scene Magazine On the road to sexual liberation. By Jason Reid
FUCK THE SHAME AWAY
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We are living in an enlightened age in which sexual liberation is de rigueur once more. Of course, this should be applauded. Being sex positive is the way forward. Regardless of gender and sexual orientation everyone has a right to be a loud and proud sexual being without feeling shame.
I feel like we’re definitely on the right track, conversations about sex are much more open than they’ve been in recent years, and younger generations give me hope that a sex-positive utopia is within reach, but we have got to keep chipping away at that shame.
For too many years we’ve been indoctrinated into believing that certain types of sexual practices are wrong, or to be totally frank – not to certain people’s priggish tastes; that we should all act within the rigid framework of patriarchal gender roles, to fall in line and be quietly compliant, which is utter bullshit. Judgemental, pious, patronising bullshit.
No one should be sticking their snout in the private life of others; it’s plain weird to be constantly concerned with what people like to do when it comes to their sexual proclivities. If someone wants to take a big old cock, or a dildo, or even a fist up their arse it’s their prerogative – personally I’d rather help them choose a decent lube than criticise from atop a soapbox. Those who do constantly bang their holier-than-thou drum should try focusing on more fruitful affairs, like learning to be empathetic and understanding.
Over the years, stiffs in suits and fundamentalists have created their own societal ‘rules’ that the masses have lapped up because
people didn’t know an alternative to being perpetually sorry for every sexual thought.
As children and teenagers, we were taught to feel guilt and shame constantly and intensively. Decades of this resulted in the collective subconscious being poisoned. Much of what we learn as children stays with us throughout our lives. Unfortunately that’s not a positive for queer people who grew up in Thatcher’s Britain and under her government’s abhorrent Section 28. Shame and fear were purposely fed to the population; gay kids didn’t exist… except we did, and we had to just keep our heads down and get on with it – with no support whatsoever.
“No-one should be sticking their snout in the private life of others; it’s plain weird to be constantly concerned with what people like to do when it comes to their sexual proclivities”
Many of us – especially the femme-acting gays like myself – routinely got our heads kicked in because we were different and difference was tarred as objectionable from the leading politician in the country all the way down.
“Children who need to be taught traditional moral values are being taught that they have an inalienable right to be gay.” That’s what Thatcher said at the Conservative Party Conference in 1987. Pure wickedness. I believe she knew gay teens were going through hell but didn’t care because she prioritised her own dogmatic beliefs about traditional values over the welfare of young gay people. Was she evil? In my view, the most wicked PM this country has had to endure.
Fortunately I can now look back at my childhood and school years without my heart always sinking to the bottom of my stomach – thanks to good therapy and enlightened friends.
My parents brought me up as a devout Roman Catholic (not their fault); school lessons were peppered with guilt and shame; the teachers were mean – apart from the free-thinking Drama and English teachers; and there was little academia to speak off. Religious education was considered more important than maths (four and three lessons a week, respectively). Couple that with Section 28 and you end up with years of self-hatred and trauma that lingers like a zealous nun with the worst halitosis imaginable hovering above you in the classroom.
Those years are widely considered to be some of the most important of one’s life, and innumerable gay people had them ruined because of society’s obsession with shame.
Thankfully I left my hometown as soon as I could and hotfooted it to London – such a cliché, a fabulous one nonetheless – and never looked back. After quite a few years of hanging around gay bars cruising for cock in the shadows with fellow cisgender males only, I fell into a crowd and sub-scene that opened my eyes to sex positivity; my newfound lesbian, trans and non-binary friends challenged the deep-rooted prejudices that had been hammered into me from an early age. It felt like something had finally been unlocked within me.
I would never profess that I’m now a fully liberated sexual being; who on earth truly is? I think most of us harbour shame that’s been brought about by life experiences. Some of us have been lucky and managed to quell it somewhat. That in itself is liberation.
The key point is, wherever you lie on the shame-o-meter, however you’re dealing with those inner demons, try not to judge others by the standards that have been imposed on you by a self-righteous society, or an invisible omnipresent being. Because who said your standards are the right ones? What even is right and normal? Don’t be like Thatcher. Aim to be like Rebecca More.
Mix with people you wouldn’t ordinarily mix with. Learn from them. Open your mind. Share your innermost thoughts and desires. Fuck the shame away!
