How to Do It is Slate’s sex advice column. Have a question? Send it to Stoya and Rich here. It’s anonymous!
Dear How to Do It,
Due to childhood trauma, I (a straight woman in my late-30s) have had two repair surgeries “down there” in my childhood and late teens. Though it took a long time, I enjoy intimacy and was married for 12 years.
I know things are a little different “down there,” but either my late husband never noticed or didn’t say anything. He wasn’t into oral, and frankly, neither was I. I am ready to date again, but I’m having unexpected anxiety. Do I say anything? I don’t want to trauma dump and kill the mood. I don’t like oral, so are they even going to notice? I also don’t want to freak them out if they do.
—Will They Even Notice?
Dear Notice,
If your description of your vulva as looking “a little different” is a soft way of saying that you know your genitals look significantly different, go ahead and skip the rest of this paragraph. Otherwise, there’s immense natural variation in the ways vulvas look, and you’re not the only person who has had some kind of surgical intervention. It’s worth taking a gander at some of the vulva documentation projects that have been undertaken in the past couple of decades to get a sense of whether you’re actually likely to stand out from the crowd. Because of all of the natural variation, most sexually experienced men will either make a polite inquiry or say nothing, even if they do notice something different.
In the event that they broach the subject, what you’ve written in your letter should be sufficient for someone you’re just starting to get to know. That said, you absolutely might run into someone who is shocked that anything other than a classic “coin slot” vulva exists, paranoid about potentially hooking up with a trans woman who has had bottom surgery, or just really socially inept in sexual scenarios. In that case, any potential freakout from them has nothing to do with you—you would simply be lying in the wrong bed at the wrong time.
If the kind of relationship you’re hoping to find involves emotional intimacy, you might clear the air before you head to the bedroom, regardless of whether your genitals are noticeably out of the norm. Telling someone you’re building a real rapport with that you had repair surgeries isn’t trauma dumping. Nor is letting them know that you’re anxious about getting naked with someone new because of this (and, likely, for other reasons to some degree). Going into details, if they ask and you’re comfortable doing so, isn’t inappropriate either. Before you broach the subject, do consider whether they’re showing you kindness and respect. If they aren’t, I’d avoid opening up for your own emotional sake, and I’d avoid having sex with them, too.
Get sex advice—submit a question!
Please keep questions short (<150 words), and don‘t submit the same question to multiple columns. We are unable to edit or remove questions after publication. Use pseudonyms to maintain anonymity. Your submission may be used in other Slate advice columns and may be edited for publication.
Thanks! Your question has been submitted.
Dear How to Do It,
A year and a half ago, I, a 26-year-old woman, ended my marriage with my now ex-husband because I came out as a lesbian. I’ve been in a relationship with my wonderful partner for the past seven months, and everything is great, save one thing. She says I don’t scissor properly, and it doesn’t feel as good as it has with other women she’s been with. Is there a particular technique to pulling this move off?
—Willing to Work at It
Dear Willing to Work at It,
There very much seems to be a particular technique that the woman you’re dating wants, but exactly what that is is pretty inscrutable to anyone who doesn’t live in her mind. Outside of a porn set, I’m not sure I’ve ever even attempted scissoring. And most of the women who have sex with women that I’ve conversed with over the years, if they’ve said anything on the subject, have been curious about why we even portray sex between women that way in pornography made for heterosexual couples or straight men. Sometimes they skipped curiosity and went directly to fairly well-deserved derision.
I mean, OK, there are ways to make scissoring enjoyable. But there’s a much better time to be had for lower amounts of physical effort. Even putting aside the joys of oral sex and manual stimulation, it’s way more fun with less exertion to grind on each other’s thighs, or an asscheek. I’ve had a better time while conserving more energy by dry humping a person’s solar plexus. You asked for troubleshooting tips, so I’ll put aside my anti-scissoring sentiments before they become a screed, but I think you should know that my starting position is one of perplexion.
The more turned on the people in question are, and therefore the more engorged their clitorises and labia are, the better your chances of having fun. Lube is almost always a really important component (but don’t assume your girlfriend has typical preferences, ask before you go turning your lower half into a slip-and-slide). From there, you’re lining softer parts up with softer parts (unless she prefers to have your pubic bone directly involved?), and then it tends to be all about rhythm.
There are several details about what feels good in that position that only your girlfriend can provide. While you didn’t ask for commentary on your relationship as a whole, I do think that if she’s going to tell you your scissoring sucks, she would be better served by also trying to help you understand how to rectify the situation.
Have Your Own Story to Share With How to Do It?
Readers often have great suggestions for our letter writers, occasionally disagree with a point our How to Do It writers make, or simply want to provide some additional advice. Each month, Jessica and Rich will be replying to some of these comments and suggestions from readers, which will be featured on the site for Slate Plus members. Write to us!
Dear How to Do It,
I’m in a dispute with a friend over whether I can consider myself a virgin. I’m 19, and have been using dildos since I was 16 (homemade ones until I could get my hands on the real thing), but haven’t had actual sex with a guy yet. My friend says that means I’m not a virgin and shouldn’t say I am when someone asks. Does using dildos count as sex?
—I’m Sort of Done With It
Dear Sort of Done With It,
Virginity has different meanings. For some, the concept applies only to women and the presence of an intact hymen is the deciding factor, with no wiggle room for the ways that horseback riding or activities involving splits (crucially, which don’t involve sexual or even purposefully erotic actions) might affect the tissue, much less the changes often caused by medical examinations or tampon insertion. If we’re using this definition (one that I and most even remotely sex positive professionals reject, but I feel I must include for the sake of thoroughness), then the answer would come down to your current anatomical status.
There are other concepts of the line between virgin and not virgin, which all have to do with sexual activity. You could be considered a non-virgin because you’ve engaged sexually with yourself, or specifically because that engagement involved penetration. You could be considered a non-virgin if you’re a woman who has had sex with another woman, though the definitions of virginity among lesbian and bisexual women, again, vary. And, by virtue of the fact that no man’s phallus has previously entered you, you also could be considered a virgin.
Because of the way our feelings around what sex is, what is arousing, and other aspects of the topic tend to vary, the definition of virginity differs from person to person and relies heavily on one’s definition of another loaded and slippery word: sex. Both present similar difficulties for the project of precision in language. To me, the only virtue of virginity as a concept is the way it sparks a conversation about what the exact borders of sex are and what our values are around sexual expression. The whole subject of virginity is complex and often tied to sexuality-based worth—whether that’s the veneration of chastity in women or the sticky badge of “having done it” that is dispersed to young men.
When someone asks whether you’re a virgin, ask them what they mean by that. It’ll start a conversation. If the person you’re speaking with is a potential sexual partner, this will lay early groundwork for talking openly about the details of sex.
—Jessica
More Advice From Slate
A few nights ago my husband informed me that he had been recently propositioned by someone in his social circle (not someone I have ever met). He declined at the time, but came to me a week later to ask for my go-ahead to pursue a casual friends-with-benefits relationship with her. I cried. In the past I’ve said that I don’t have a problem with being occasionally nonmonogamous at some point in time, but that it was important to me that this could only happen if our relationship was secure and strong. I’m not sure this is the case right now.