I talk about my sex life in the office. 


That sounds a little dangerous, doesn’t it? But for me it’s perfectly standard – I actively hunted for a job where sex and sexuality were a big part of the company ideals. Talking about sex is something we do for most of the day, so why not talk about the sex we have ourselves?


So I talk about my sex life in the office. I also talk about my sex life with my friends. I talk about my sex life with my lovers. I used to talk about my sex life with my brother (who is dearly missed). For sure, the intimacy of the details is different in each of those contexts, but sex is part of who I am, and so it’s part of my conversations.


Does that sound a bit intimidating? It’s not that I run roughshod over people, insisting that we must talk about me being naked and orgasmic now. Rather it’s a natural progression of each conversation, and an awareness that for me at least, there’s nothing that’s off-limits. 
I’m extremely open. I’ve embraced my sexuality in all its pansexual slutty kinky polyamorous glory. I’ve talked about it online, in person, in writing, on television. I’ve shown my face and put my name to my desires. I don’t generally walk about with a giant sign that says SLUT… unless we’re talking about the recent Slut Walk excepted. But if you’re a friend of mine, or you read my blog, or you’ve met me while working, you know that sexuality is really important to me, and that talking about mine is most definitely not off-limits.

There’s still, unfortunately, a lot of stigma around being open. When I started to blog about sex in particular it took two years before I felt comfortable showing my body (with its identifying tattoos). It was two years more before I decided to show my face, and only recently have I made the difficult decision to share my name. It’s a long and slow process, opening up to the world. And it can come with costs.
The costs aren’t necessarily what you think, though. I’m not spat on on the street. I very rarely have to deal with trolls online (touch wood!). I have no problems finding and maintaining work; my family talk to me – even if they do look upon me as the black sheep – and my husband and partners support and love me.


The big cost has been growth. There’s a lot of taboo and shame about being open sexually, for all that sex is everywhere in the media. Learning to accept who I am, to embrace my body and my nakedness and my desires and my orgasms, has been a long road. It’s a road I’ve gladly travelled, even if I had no idea what the eventual destination would look like. And I’m still travelling.


But why did I want to grow in the first place? Well, don’t we all? As someone who tries very hard to be honest – something that took five years to learn in itself – it struck me as strange that there should be something I shouldn’t talk about, something supposedly taboo. I talked about communication and suicide and Buffy and loss and love. So why not sex?


One of the very best things about being increasingly open about my sexuality has been – inadvertently or deliberately – showing other people that there’s nothing wrong with owning their desires. For them to realise that they can ask questions, experiment, read, learn and grow themselves. Often this sends them on their own journey, with me acting as merely a crossroads conversation. Other times I find myself with awesome companions on their own journey, sharing the road a while. Whether in person or online, a fellow writer or a reader, a friend or a lover, they are all blossoming in the secure knowledge that sex is a part of them, too. And that they can own it and revel in it without shame.


Without sex we wouldn’t exist. Without sex most advertising couldn’t function! Without sex we’d live in a sterile, boring, flowerless, grey world. So instead why not choose to celebrate it? Share your stories. Cautiously, gently expanding your comfort zone, talk about sex. Orgasms, attractions, losses, experimentations. If you’re asexual, talk about it. If you’re a switch, talk about it. If you’re curious about anal play, talk about it. If you’re thinking about swinging, talk about it.


Does it matter who you talk to? Well, yes. Often your grandmother isn’t the first person to approach (depending on the grandmother – they had sex too, you know). But there’s someone out there who’s travelled the same path and asked the same questions. There are books and blogs and friends and sex-workers and retailers and family and partners, any of whom will listen and converse and help you to break away the taboos.
I’m not ashamed of my sexuality. I’m not a taboo subject. Naked or clothed, orgasming or talking, I’m just me. And I’m open.


(If there’s no one else to talk to, you’re welcome to talk to me. Email curvaceous.dee@gmail.com with your question, discussion, or desire to converse.)