**Dearest family, this post isn’t for your you.**
Under the umbrella of sex positivity, there’s been talk around issues of consent, body-shaming, protection, and slut-shaming. These topics are all well-warranted points of conversation, and could benefit from an added component: dick positivity. In case dick positivity doesn’t already exist, I define it for this post as: taking the shame out of the way guys feel about their sexual gems. Ideally, dick positivity would become an attribute of body empowerment for men, especially men who don’t see themselves as manly, or don’t find themselves represented by the media. Its goal would be for men to accept their dicks, without fear of being measured by how many girls they’ve slept with or how “big” they are.
As for right now though, I think dick positivity only exists in this post. In an effort to talk about why dick positivity needs to happen, it’s important to discuss the things that block men from dick-bliss in the first place. To do this, I’d like to zoom-in on how dick standards intersect with disability, because Hi, I’m Kristen and my whole blog is about disability. Even my dick post.
Before we start, please know that I’m a female, and as such, I’m only noting general themes I’ve seen in men with disabilities (and men without) whom I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. If you think I misrepresent, tell me. If I’m missing something you think is part-in-parcel to being a guy with a disability, say so. The impact of dick standards on men with disabilities is a subject that’s just not discussed despite the havoc it causes, so I’d like to start to unravel it here.
Dicks are beautiful, truly. Provided the context is appropriate, as in the sex is wanted, men’s penises are positively great. Yet, common beliefs about dick size, dick shape, dick abilities, and dick stamina are ruining the fun for everyone. Combine any of these silly standards with physical disability and you’ve got another reason for a guy to feel sexually inadequate. In terms of disability, dick standards can be left unmet for a slew of reasons, namely:
“A man might have difficulty, or be unable to get or maintain an erection because of reduced blood supply, changes in nerve stimulation, depression or medications.” (The Ultimate Guide to Sex and Disability).
Getting but losing a hard-on happens sometimes, with some disabilities, just as they can happen with some able bodies. If you’re extra prone to this because of injury or some miscommunications between your head and that head, then it can be really, really frustrating. And our everyday social expectations of alpha-males with foot-long penises that never quit definitely don’t do anything to alleviate said frustration.
If this frustration is not acknowledged or discussed, it’s a slippery slope to self-pity, and a short road to self-loathing. I’m not a guy, but I think going down this course can be combated in two ways:
- Realizing that your dick issues, whatever form they take, present a hurdle, not a sentence. Probably your dick doesn’t work, look, feel exactly how you want it to, but, hey: No ones does. Some guys wish for a few more inches, less of a curve , balls that groom themselves; people are very rarely completely satisfied with their fuckables.I wish my vagina was literally anywhere else on my body for the sake of access, but it’s not. There are ways around that though. Your dick is lovely, regardless.
- Dicks are over-emphasized as a symbol of manliness You have other body parts that can (hopefully) enjoy feelings. Your penis can’t bare the entire burden of your sexuality, nor should it, when there are so many other facets of you.
Also, just like any form of intimacy, dicks are a privilege, whether you’re disabled or not. Heavily due to normative beliefs about sex, we tend to think vaginas are the only secret-keeper, the only “reward” for intimacy. What we frequently forget is that intimacy itself is a privilege. Put as much or as little stock into the belief that sex is a privilege as you like, but realize that without it, it’s masturbation.
Lastly, I’ve framed sex as “penis privilege” to a few guys lately. These guys—both disabled and not—were generally surprised by this notion, as though they’ve forgotten that their intimacy is also a privilege, to be shared selectively, if that’s what’s preferred. Sadness! Maybe, if we start thinking of dicks as the privilege that they are, men will stop feeling inadequate. Maybe they wont gage their sexual abilities by their number of women or stamina, but instead feel pride about the positivity they’ve built while treating their intimacy as a privilege. More likely though, I’m a dreamer.
While I’m not attracted to all dicks, all dicks are a thing of art, as are vaginas and sunny days in mid-October. And I think a healthy dose of dick positivity for the men that sport them is good for us all. %dick standards.
**There’s a second part to this, which is likely of greater importance: the intersection of disability and manliness and its negative outcomes. I’ll write it soon, but let me know if you want to write it, since you know…I’m not a guy.