Esperanto Magazine - 05 Sex | MONSU Caulfield

Issue 1/2021

THE SEX ISSUE

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Editors

Tiffany Forbes Dena Tissera

Art Director

Marissa Hor

Contact

Esperanto Student Magazine MONSU Caulfield Inc. Level 2, Building S, 2 Princes Avenue, Caulfield East, VIC 3145

+613 9903 2525

editor.esperanto@gmail.com creative.esperanto@gmail.com Publisher

MONSU Caulfield Inc.

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Paper

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Type Credits Avara Karrik

LFT Etica Mono Cover Art

Photography by Naiyanat Sornratanachai

Legal

Esperanto Magazine is published by MONSU Caulfield Inc. Views expressed within do not necessarily reflect those of MONSU Caulfield Inc, the editorial panel, the publisher, or any other person associated with Esperanto.

Writers Alice Wright, Binari Almeida, Carla Tiernan, Coby Renkin, Dilshi Perera,

Dina Ivkovich, Joseph Lew, Juliette Capomolla, Kiera Eardley, Lily Anna, MD, Naiyanat Sornratanachai, Natasha Schapova, Sanjiv Raveendiran,

Simone Kealy, Thiamando Pavlidis, Veronica John, Zayan Ismail Artists

Betty Gu, Brooke Stevens, Callum Johnson, Carla J. Romano, Charlotte Elwell, Emma Lucas, Gabrielle Poh, Georgia Lilley, Jessica La, Lillian Busby, Madison Marshall, Monica Ouk, Naiyanat Sornratanachai, Sarah Annett, Stephanie Wong, Ruth Ong

This one goes out to the lovers, the fighters, the ones who fuck, the ones who make love, and the ones who don’t bother with any of it.

Welcome to the 2021 Sex Edition! We know we are a *little* late, but please blame it on the ‘rona and not us. After the confusion and chaos of 2020, the Esperanto team is back with some new and old faces. We are also proud to announce that printed magazines will be making a triumphant return to campus!

While the Sex Edition is tradition at Esperanto, this year we wanted to take our exploration further than ever before.

Yes, sex can feel like some kind of hedonistic acid trip, but we also wanted to explore those times when sex is confusing, or maybe even a little painful. Within these pages you will feast your eyes on the raunchiest Melbourne based fanfictions as well as contemplate the impact of body dysphoria on intimacy.

Ultimately, our advice would be to turn on some ‘90s R&B, flip to a random page and enjoy the vibes.

Love — Dena, Tiff & Marissa.

Editors’ Article Title Note

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Contents

First Times

04

Sex Toys, You Rock My World

06

Why it’s Time We Need to Stop Romanticising the Bare Minimum

08

Snapshot Erotica

12

H(b)y(e)men 14 Depravity, Dawson and DiCaprio

16

Honest 18 Tough and Tender

20

Subjugation (Part One)

22

Is Blind Sex Positivity Feminist?

26

Andrew Bolt and Y/N

28

Ilina: A Modern Day Look at the World’s Oldest Profession

30

Consent: The First Step

34

The Transformative Power of Casual Intimacy

36

Assembly Guide: Me + You

40

So... Can I Fuck My Way to Heaven?

42

Sorry, We Only Charge Premium Here 44 Subjugation (Part Two)

46

The Melissa Deserved Better Stan Club

50

More than a Fetish

52

Letter to My Younger Self

56

Reminder: Pill

58

Woman 60

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Issue 01/2021: Sex

WORDS BY Dilshi Perera @dilshi_perera

First Times Oh, first times... I’ve come to notice that all memories of my first time have been gently placed in a tightly sealed box in my mind, repressed and neatly tucked away alongside all my other embarrassing moments. For some (extremely lucky) people, reminiscing on their first time doesn’t make them want to crawl out of their skin or jump into said neat box. When it comes to thinking about my first time having sex, all that rings in my brain is ‘the minutes were spare, but the pain was there.’ Although it lasted a lot longer in my head, my first time wasn’t all too bad.

As a teenager who was deeply obsessed with romantic movies, I could only ever envision my first time being the epitome of magic, love, passion and every other unrealistic expectation that Channing Tatum and his sexy co-stars painted for me. To my disappointment, my first time was nothing like The Vow or the Angus Thongs and Perfect Snogging books that I probably shouldn’t have read as a teen.

Instead it was nothing short of mediocre, with a dash of what the fuck is happening to me. In high school, having sex was all the rage. I thought it was overrated at first, but with a boyfriend in one hand and a pretty high sex drive in the other, I was determined to ride the wave of safe sex.

Being ethnic made things a little difficult, as sex was a very big no-no. I was constantly gawking at my friends who got condoms from their parents…

I couldn’t imagine the sheer horror that would erupt if my parents knew I even looked at a guy. Luckily for me, my boyfriend at the time was just as unfortunate, which made us two horny but sneaky kids, capable of hiding in each others’ houses. I remember spending more effort timing the exit of my parents, than mentally preparing for my cherry to be popped.

Being the sensible teenagers that we were, we decided to hit up Coles before getting it on, because safe sex is the best sex, right? Browsing the sex aisle was a nightmare and a half, from the different flavours of lubes to the concerningly large variations

ART BY Stephanie Wong @bymeloniberry

of condoms. What the hell are ribbed condoms anyway? After spending several minutes goofing around (and hiding whenever we saw a fellow ethnic person) we decided to grab some normal dommies and took the courageous step to give strawberry scented lube a try. This specific lube doubled up as a massage oil which was enough to win me over. If I’m going to go through immense pain I might as well get a massage out of it *cue my sexual massage fantasy*.

Once we successfully sneaked into my house for the hundredth time, we decided to head straight for the guest room. Looking back, I was clearly so flustered from the anticipation of having sex and my parents coming home that I didn’t even do it on my own bed.

Probably best though, considering I had a giant Justin Bieber poster on my roof. Sorry, Hailey Bieber.

Despite my friends’ well wishes and my best set of matching lingerie, nothing could prepare me for the two minutes of pain that I would experience next.

After getting hot and heavy under the sheets, we quickly decided it was time to get real freaky — in missionary of course!

The beginning of our sex sounded a lot like the script from Are We There Yet? except it was “are you in yet?” This was followed by the most painful burning sensation that I’ve ever felt to date. It wasn’t until I looked into his eyes, so deep in love that I realised it was all worth it. Gross, I know.

Despite our adoration for each other, the pain was getting unbearable. I even resorted to asking him to tell me how much he loved me — talk about a God complex.

Despite the cringe factor, this slightly questionable pain tactic actually worked and the inner hopeless romantic in me was beyond satisfied. The deed was done, and I couldn’t have been happier.

And yes, if you’re wondering, the massage oil was worth it.

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Sex

Toy

s,

You Rock My World WORDS BY Juliette Capomolla ART BY Charlotte Elwell @cse.designs

It seems to be only fitting that, in a year as lonely as ever, we all turned to our sex toys for solace.

Sales soared once we were all forced to stay at home last year, ironically allowing us to find company in ourselves. But it’s not like this hasn’t happened before. I mean, in the Global Financial Crisis (GFC) sex toy sales boomed, while people saved their pennies by staying inside. What better way to waste time than with a dildo bed-side?

Perhaps this is the one time where we might give thanks to the ominous enigma capitalism for responding so rapidly to our desperation. The global sex toy industry is estimated to be worth nearly $40 billion and is growing almost tenfold annually.

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Issue 01/2021: Sex

It can’t just be my Instagram feed that is littered with ads for sex toys. Every prominent female I follow has collaborated with a sex toy company now (perhaps hyperbolic, but you get the point). Think Abbie Chatfield, Cara Delevingne, Lily Allen and Gwyneth Paltrow, among many other like-minded pioneers.

Yes, you heard it here first — women are finally allowed to enjoy sexual pleasure for themselves.

No longer are sex toys marketed purely to the male gaze, but instead, we’ve seen an incredible surge in female sex toy producers. Gone are the sleazy, white salesmen, and in come the modern, young women advocating for female sexual pleasure. And may I just say, finally.

We’ve moved well beyond the infamous ‘Rabbit’ vibrator, but I’ll still give Sex and the City the credit for opening up the dialogue about sex toys and female sexual empowerment. For all her flaws and missteps, Gwyneth Paltrow and her brand Goop have also done a lot to change the conversation around sex toys. She is widely considered one of the first celebrities to normalise masturbation and female sexual pleasure by advertising *ludicrously expensive* dildos. Once considered erotic and scandalous, sex toys have undergone an intense rebranding and are now encompassed under the wellness umbrella. I mean, if you ask me, it’s pretty hard to ignore the fact that sexual health is a massive part of wellness.

Perhaps it comes with age, or perhaps this conversation has simply been stifled for decades, but chats about sex toys and sexual pleasure are becoming increasingly common amongst friends. It’s thanks to this dialogue that I feel so empowered to chat freely with my friends about sex. The sexual empowerment and liberation that flows from the top-down is undeniable, and it’s all thanks to many loud voices making lots of noise about sex toys. It’s needless to say that this conversation goes well beyond merely the prominence and lucrative nature of the sex toy industry, but really boils down to the acceptance and empowerment of female sexual pleasure. When we no longer feel like we have to have sex for someone else, we can truly learn to enjoy it and have agency over our sexuality. For someone like me, that comes from shedding shame associated with sex, and for others, it comes from exploring their own body before they allow someone else to do the same.

But I won’t mince my words when I say this, what sexual wellness means to me, might be totally different to what it means to you. Whether you masturbate or not, whether you use sex toys or don’t, whether you’ve never had sex and never want to or simply have no idea yet — you should be empowered to make whatever decision fulfills you.

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Why it’s Time We Need to Stop Romanticising the Bare Minimum 8

Issue 01/2021: Sex

WORDS BY Tiffany Forbes @tiffanyforbes ART BY Brooke Stevens

You know those moments? The ones where you look back and think ‘what the actual fuck was I thinking?’ I guess you could call it a kind of post-nut clarity, or some sort of clarif-dick-ation (thanks, TikTok), where without warning, that love bubble — fitted exclusively with a rose-tinted haze and the ‘they-can-do-no-wrong’ mindset — is popped, and you realise your partner isn’t actually all that? Yeah, well same.

It’s only taken me one too many failed talking stages and my best friend reiterating that “the bar is on the floor, babe” so many times it hurts, for me to realise that I’ve spent the last four years praising and pining after these ain’t-shit men for doing the absolute least. So, consider this article a formal resignation from my own naivety (and perhaps insanity).

Never again will I succumb to letting myself think a guy is doing the work of God himself for simply texting me back, I repeat for emphasis, simply texting me back or buying me plan B (yes, you’re not mistaken).

It wasn’t all too long ago that I remember discussing my friend’s most recent one-night-stand to which she excitedly told me “he actually asked me if I wanted him to wear a condom” to which I replied “wow, we respect that.” But no, Tiffany, we don’t respect that, we should expect that.

In my defence, I’m not the only one. I can shamelessly admit I have spent hours poring over the TikTok trend where people share their experiences of when they realised the bar was on the floor. One stuck with me where a girl admitted “he told me he fucked his ex and his best friend... I said thank you for being honest.”

If this isn’t a sure-fire sign we need a total upheaval on what should and should not constitute as the bare fucking minimum, I honestly don’t know what is. From this point forward, unless they’re giving me John Legend and Chrissy Teigen vibes, I don’t want them.

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So what’s the deal behind this awful mentality? Why did I accept this behaviour for so long without batting, at the very least, an eyelid?

I think it comes down to the fact that dating has lost its roots — the win-you-over stage has been promptly replaced by three-day talking phases followed by booty calls and a ‘you’ve been blocked’ by the end of it. Situationships are thriving because we’re all here for a good time, not a long one.

We seize any ounce of attention and validation we can get for a hit of five-second gratification. We accept their wrong-doings because we believe it’s the best they have to offer and the best we deserve, since no one has ever proved us otherwise.

When you look at it in plain sight though, we’re crediting these people for what? Simply being decent human beings? Posting #relationshipgoals when they take the initiative to make dinner reservations is like posting #doctorgoals when your doctor gives you a prescription — it’s supposed to be a given, folks.

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Issue 01/2021: Sex

So repeat after me, stop being impressed by the bare minimum, don’t romanticise their mundane bullshit, because you, my friend, deserve the fucking world.

Why it’s Time We Need to Stop Romanticising the Bare Minimum

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Snapshot Erotica

WORDS BY MD ART BY Gabrielle Poh @gee.poh

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Issue 01/2021: Sex

I busy over the bench in hope to impress Her. She prepares, unwittingly famished.

I pretend not to notice as Her scent draws closer, preoccupation concealing my appetite.

Softly, Her hips come to meet the back of mine. Warm lips tracing the base of my neck as strong hands take hold.

My skin feels golden under Hers; palms trailing from waist through navel, landing at the throat.

Heat spreads to rival the fan-forced.

I turn to face Her as She drops to Her knees — somehow suddenly 10 feet tall.

She tells me to ask for it. God knows I prefer to beg.

“Please,” unfurls from my tongue to be captured in Her ravenous grin.

Only hunger locked in the space between us now. There, zips and lace make like air. Sighs signalling the beginning of release. Fingers snatching at handfuls of Her hair. Quickly now, frenzied stovetops, quivering boiling pots. Knees buckling to the chorus. White knuckles grip cold stone — reaching for a scream as Our bodies hit 100 degrees.

Skyward She mouths, “delicious”.

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An old proverb comes to mind: “No pain, no gain”, whereby in order to realise progress or success, one must suffer some deal.

If there is one thing us humans share in common besides our initial state of sexual inexperience, it’s the name we ascribe to it: “virgin”, defined as a person who has never engaged in sexual intercourse. Yet by some twist of irony, there is more left to be desired in this cookie-cutter label by those who seemingly fall into it...

As we know it, sex is chiefly understood as a physical act, the constitution of which has been seized and seizured by heteronormativity.

Sex, accordingly, defaults to two baking shapes: a penis and vagina, whereby a person who has been penetrated by a penis in their vagina (or viceversa), is no longer a virgin. The result of this narrow interpretation is an erasure of intersectional understandings of sex as an emotional landscape, a mere bodily act alone. The role of one’s sexuality, state of pleasure, consent, and personal significations of what sex feels like beyond ‘looks’ is ultimately rendered second-rate in the crusade for a more complex, inclusive and (you guessed it!) intimate consensus on sex.

It’s here, within an idea of virginity fostered by centuries of patriarchal regulation of female sexuality, that we locate its (mucoid) maker — the world’s thinnest gatekeeper, shielding one of its most coveted southbound wonders accessible to humans: the hymen. Myth has it that this historically prized, yet misunderstood membrane of tissue remains ‘intact’ until torn during the first vaginal penetration, thereby denoting physical proof of non-virginity. Like breaking the seal on a fresh can of tennis balls to savour its short-lived fragrance; that once lost, is lost forever. Lest we acknowledge that hymenal tearing often occurs undetected during sport, beating out the proverbial ‘cherry pop’ we’ve long learnt to revere and fear.

Born in the advent of Victorian-era purity culture during a century fraught with paternity anxieties over having ‘illegitimate’ children and difficulties with identifying biological fathers, the hymen

WORDS BY Dina Ivkovich @dinanotdiner 14

ART BY Emma Lucas @emlucasart Issue 01/2021: Sex

provided both the certainty of lineage and contraction of women to sex with one man who tore and ‘took’ their one-time virgin status. Sexual purity, by way of the hymen, became a commodified requisite for a woman’s value in the marketplace of courtship.

We need only look to the Netflix bonkbuster series Bridgerton’s very own resident incel, Nigel Berbrooke, for proof of this myth’s power as a social currency, cock-block, and precursory acronym long forgotten: ‘Y.O.B.O.’ (You Only Break Once).

Whether it’s the 19th century or as recently as 2019, fetishisation of virginity pervades the everyday vernacular we use, laden with negative terms of ‘purity’ and ‘loss’ that ultimately deny female sexual autonomy and demean efforts to transgress its binarised contract. It’s the paradoxical manner of its realisation as a commodified marker of female purity, ironically hypersexualised to the ends of its ‘lost and found taken’ status. Sex in terms of pain without the avail of gain. Penetration void of pleasure.

So, what about redefining virginhood as an experience of gaining pleasure? One where ideas of ‘firsts’ are contingent on the varied identities that self-determine them. Where formative experience precedes any pluralised template that attempts to pigeonhole our sexual development in the conventions of ‘loss’ as opposed to ‘giving’ and, most of all, growth in return. To update the word ‘lost’ because our virginity is not something that should be taken in spite of our will and proceed to define us in mythical terms of this bodily void. To give virginity its virginity back, so that when we talk of ‘first blood’, we crown the bleeding body the victor.

b Hymen e

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Issue 01/2021: Sex

Depravity, Dawson and DiCaprio WORDS BY Kiera Eardley @kieraeardley ART BY Madison Marshall @madagasc.art

He’s hunched over a poker table, cigarette dangling from his lips, green eyes smouldering under a sweep of blond hair. He wears a heavy coat, a loose shirt and suspenders. He wins the hand — he’s going home on the Ship of Dreams. He’s the king of the world. He’s Jack Dawson. Jack. Dawson.

His every appearance on screen sends my 11-yearold self into a spin. The artful flop of his hair, his quick wit and self-assuredness. I suddenly love everything about him and his world of Titanic. I want to be there.

I want to be Rose. I watch him save her from jumping off the ship. I watch him show her a real party, grinning and dancing and drinking stout. I watch him masquerade as an aristocrat and kiss her gloved hand. I watch him, I watch him, I watch him.

As I watch him, I want him. Jack Dawson stirs a nervous energy in me, an ache in my heart and stomach like he’s painting me like one of his French girls. I long for him, this paragon of perfection in my adolescent mind. I inhale the movie over and over, skipping to scenes that stir that wistfulness: mostly, when Rose escapes her lifeboat and rushes back to Jack. The way his voice breaks between frantic kisses, saying “you’re so stupid, Rose, why did you do that?”, or when they realise they’re about to die together on that sinking mass of steel. It’s magnetic, and it magnetises me.

After school, I scour YouTube for every Titanic interview and blooper, every deleted scene, every behindthe-scenes skerrick in existence. It’s a depravity like I’ve never known. My crush on Jack Dawson soon

grows to encompass the real-life Leonardo DiCaprio, because I need more than what the film’s meaty three and a half hours can give me. Vowing to watch his entire filmography, I devour everything from early-‘90s flops and Romeo + Juliet to slick biopics and The Departed. My adoration knows no outlet aside from this filmic worship. It’s 2010, and I feel like the only person who could possibly love him this loyally, blissfully unaware as I am of the ‘Leo Mania’ that erupted amongst teenage girls across the world a decade before. It feels special, this one-sided connection between prepubescent fangirl and Hollywood megastar, so I continue to chase it like Alice down the rabbit hole.

And yet, there is a certain shame to my infatuation.

Is it strange to feel this devoted to someone I’ll never know? Am I weird? Fearing an embarrassment that is a young introvert’s nightmare, I keep Leo to myself. Secrecy feels more righteous. It’s just for me, something I needn’t share with friends or parents or prying siblings. This hormonal discovery of physical attraction manifests as a familiar comfort, a reliable desire. After a lacklustre day at school, Leo and Titanic feel like a soft, shimmering oasis.

Each re-watch refreshes my love anew — I crave the nostalgia and the tragedy, the epic romance that swathes me in hope and aching wonderment.

Even now, in 2021, when the Leo obsession has dulled and I haven’t watched Titanic for years, there remains a flicker of that original crush. When it comes to Jack Dawson, the 11-year-old in me will never let go.

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Honest

WORDS BY Lily Anna @funkyspaghettii ART BY Betty Gu @_bettygu

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Issue 01/2021: Sex

Did your heart ever race the same way when it traversed that foreign territory for the first time?

Exposing naked skin and peppering kisses across open fields of freckles and scars.

Tempting all the familiar places on an unfamiliar body, desperate for similar reaction.

I wonder, when you touch her where she's most honest, If it's an act of intention or some feeling caught blind in futile excitement?

I wonder, If you're still insecure by the chill of bare bodies or if you’re using what worked so well on me, on her.

But after lying in the spot I once did, Getting her fix Without a post evaluation or a head resting sleepily on a bare chest.

She’ll redress.

Leaving you with nothing and everything in between love and lust And you'll forget what once was and indulge in the mystery, a lack of conversation and casual sex.

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Tough and Tender In society, men are told to be masculine and to ‘toughen up.’ The longer the beard, the taller the male or the more muscles they have, the more women flock to their side. This phenomenon is baffling to me.

It is an unspoken fantasy society placed on males.

Why should men be told to toughen up, when it’s okay to be tender?

For those suffering from body dysmorphia, stereotypes such as this can be upsetting to experience. Body dysmorphia (BD) is a mental health issue where one obsessively focuses on perceived flaws in one’s appearance — this can be minor or imagined. It’s a term that many young women are unfortunately familiar with, but what about men?

Wesley, a University student, shared with me his experience with BD and how it has affected his life and intimacy.

Can you share your experiences with body dysmorphia?

W: There are many features of my body I wish could be improved and I’m always comparing myself to other guys like... why can’t I be skinnier? I guess one thing I hate about myself is my stomach — I’ve always been pretty chubby. I try to work out and lose weight, but I always fail to stick to my plan. From a young age, I always believed that I was ugly. I’m not sure if you notice but my spine is messed up which makes my face crooked.

In photos, you can really tell that one eye is way higher than the other, and because of this, I’ve always hated the way I look. This is why I hate photos sometimes because I’m afraid people will notice.

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Issue 01/2021: Sex

Do you think people accept you now?

Even with the insecurities of body dysmorphia?

W: I really don’t know. I think they do but I can’t really know for sure because you never know what someone else is thinking. I just feel like there are way too many good-looking guys out there compared to me, so why on earth would a girl want to talk to me?

Do these struggles impact your willingness to be intimate or your experiences of sex in general?

W: I guess so. I’ve never had sex and been in a relationship before, so sex isn’t something I think about often, but I guess envisioning myself having sex in the future... it’s just not something I can see happening. I think it is probably because I’m still shy about my body — like how I was saying I’m kind of chubby. So, I’m scared if it does come to sex, they’ll see my fat and get turned off — this kind of ties with my BD. I guess maybe once I learn to love myself first, then I’ll be open to letting others touch me.

WORDS BY Veronica John @gracejohn15 ART BY Gabrielle Poh @gee.poh

Wesley’s interview gives society a broader perspective on body dysmorphia as males are often forgotten about or dismissed when it comes to their insecurities. A Swinburne University study supports this, as it found that men and women are equally affected with body dysmorphia, with up to two per cent of the general population living with this disorder. This is a symptom of toxic masculinity and it’s time it stopped.

It’s okay to be tough and tender.

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WORDS & PHOTOGRAPHY BY

Subjugation (Part One)

Naiyanat Sornratanachai @naiyanatrix

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Issue 01/2021: Sex

Shibari(縛り), or Kinbaku(緊縛) is the art of Japanese bondage, appreciated through its aesthetics and sexual appeal. On the surface, Shibari can be perceived as a form of fetish. It's easy to view it that way when you see the ropes bind tightly on a body, restraining and controlling it. However, a good Shibari tie is much more than a work of art or weapon of objectification.

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Issue 01/2021: Sex

Subjugation (Part One)

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Dear society, I believe there’s a change waiting to be made in the sex positivity movement.

Is Blind Sex Positivity

? t s i n i Fem

I’m entering my twenties in a world where I, by my demographic’s standards, should have crossed off most, if not all, sex positions off of my sexual bucket-list. Politicians are determining the laws impacting my body. Adjectives like ‘prude’ and ‘slut’ are used in the same sentence to describe the same girl, all while Megan Thee Stallion sings about her tits on the radio (and of course we debate the discourse of it afterwards). It makes things a bit confusing to say the very least.

Now, I don’t shy away from calling myself a feminist. I think it’s important for all individuals and marginalised groups to be equally represented societally and systemically. Within this fight is the sex positivity movement.

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Issue 01/2021: Sex

My first experience with sex positivity came with redefining the word ‘slut’. A word that is less associated with negative connotations given we have adapted to the belief that having many sexual partners and engaging in sex often is not a bad thing.

Another debate I noticed in my early days of the movement is the one surrounding sex work.

A career choice that people previously deemed as shameful, a last resource of income and often related to class. We now know that many individuals find power and ownership over their body from operating in sex work. It allows them to love their body and its possibilities.

Among all the importance of uncovering the topics around sex that were once taboo, such as BDSM, kinks, non-monogamy and masturbation to name a few, sometimes I think we need to rewind.

Don’t get me wrong, I am in full support of the sex positivity movement and its discussions about topics that previously have been swept under the rug, including sexual acts that are the furthest from ‘plain’ and re-defining every derogatory word there is to bring comfort to our communities.

But have you ever tried Connoisseur vanilla bean ice-cream? It’s fucking delicious.

What I’m saying is, you don’t have to be into kinky sex to be part of the sex positive movement. If you love a good ol’ missionary session with your partner that you’ve been with for a few years, in your comfy bed, going to sleep in your matching pyjamas afterwards, you’re just as much a part of the movement as the next person.

However, I think we need to shed light on a new topic I’ve noticed entering the evolution of sex.

That is, what if you don’t like sex? Maybe sex is painful? Perhaps you have trauma that impacts your sex life. These are all very real topics, not issues nor problems, that I believe need to be covered more frequently.

Let’s hear it for our friends with vaginismus, or those who experience dyspareunia. Sex can hurt.

It’s time to sit and listen to our pals who have sadly been through trauma. Progress is not linear and opening yourself up intimately can be extremely intimidating.

Maybe you haven’t had sex yet? Perhaps, there is a reason or no reason for this? Or maybe you don’t even know what the reason is? Either way, it’s cool, who cares anyway? Your sexual life begins before you lose your virginity. Sex goes beyond intercourse, this is what the sex positive movement is all about.

Besides, I wanna know when we decided to start defining sex as penetrative? This is an outdated, heteronormative belief. Let’s recreate the narrative around what sex is. In doing this, our mates or ourselves, can hopefully feel happy, safe and confident in the skin we’re in.

When it comes down to it, my prediction for the future of the sex positivity movement is hopeful.

If we continue these conversations, open up to one another and truly take in and absorb everyone’s experiences and what they have to say, there will be no ‘normal’. Simply remember the core of what it is to be a feminist: inclusitivity.

Every single human being is built in a different way and goes through very contrasting experiences.

To expect everyone to enjoy the same thing really doesn’t make sense.

WORDS BY Alice Wright @alicewrt ART BY Lillian Busby @lillian.design

Regards, A chaotic, yet passionate, 20-something-year-old.

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WORDS BY Thiamando Pavlidis @thiamand_no ART BY Monica Ouk @mono.goose

Andrew Bolt and Y/N 28

Issue 01/2021: Sex

Your van backs into the driveway of a stunning four-bedroom federation mansion in Malvern East.

As the van beeps in reverse, you wonder to yourself who could possibly be moving out of this beautiful home in the midst of a pandemic?

As you open the back doors of the van, you notice a man struggling at the front door while carrying a cardboard box. The box slips from his hands as the door flies open, and you rush to help pick up the books that have fallen to the ground.

You note a few of the titles: Battlelines, The Latham Diaries, Lazarus Rising... then, one cover catches your eye. It’s titled Still Not Sorry, but what you notice is the man on the cover happens to be the same man who had ungraciously toppled over before you.

You find your way into his Bonds™ Support Briefs before his trousers even hit the floor of the van.

Wrapping your hand around his Little Bolt, you begin to stroke.

He moans into your neck as your hand rubs up, and down, and up, and down.

He pushes you against the wall of the van and turns you around. You feel your pants and underwear release themselves from the constraints of your body as the regular guest on 3AW’s Nights with Steve Price kisses your neck.

His fingertips trail from your shoulder, to your back, to your backside.

You can’t believe it.

A hand is abruptly pulled away, and spat on with the force of a man who’s been sued for racial discrimination.

It’s conservative political commentator and columnist Andrew Bolt.

He rubs his Thinkpiece with his saliva and then slowly inserts it into your Herald Sun.

You watch as he scrambles to collect the paperbacks, his silver hair occasionally sparkling in the light of the December sun.

You gasp as you are overcome with a wave of euphoria.

“I’ll go inside and grab another box-” you say, but you are cut off as the older man’s hand catches your wrist.

“No, show me where this one goes,” he purrs.

You’re not sure why, but you feel your chest tighten as you lead him to the empty van.

You’re both inside when he drops the box and approaches you, pressing his lips upon yours.

But you don’t push him away. Impulse overcomes you, and you kiss the former Bolt Report presenter back.

Lips, teeth, and tongue all mash in a moment of ecstasy. Like Bolt’s opinions on immigration, you are unsure about this. Unlike Bolt’s opinions on immigration, you decide to allow it anyway.

Bolt’s fingers fumble with the buttons on his shirt, and he rips it off faster than he’d defend convicted paedophile priests.

As he removes your work polo, your hands work at the belt buckle of the man whose ‘Controversies’ subheading takes up two thirds of his Wikipedia page.

The former regular Insiders guest grunts as he thrusts, sweat beading on his Dutch-Australian forehead.

“You like that?” he growls as he picks up pace.

You nod, too exasperated for words.

His thrusts run deeper, faster and harder.

You’re close — you feel as though your talk show is about to be axed by Network Ten. Just then, with a loud moan, columnist and radio/ television presenter Andrew Bolt releases his Opinion inside your Australian Public Media.

It’s wet, hot, and sticky, unlike the global climate, which is totally fine and normal and NOT changing rapidly as a result of burning fossil fuels.

“Oh, by the way,” you ask, still slightly out of breath.

“Where are you moving to?”

“I’ve had enough of Melbourne and Chairman Dan,” Bolt says, as he buttons his shirt back up.

“I’m moving to the bush. Mornington Peninsula.”

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WORDS BY Simone Kealy @simone.kealyy PHOTOGRAPHY BY Callum Johnson @neo.cog.ito 30

Issue 01/2021: Sex

Ilina :

A Modern Day Look at the World’s Oldest Profession With all the stigma and judgement that surrounds the sex industry, sex workers around the globe are fighting to dispel those myths and stereotypes. Ilina Joy, a 27-year-old escort and nutrition student is one of them. Ilina is a proud sex worker, and doesn’t think that her line of work, or any other job for that matter, defines her worth. Read more for an insight into the sex industry and one woman’s experience as a sex worker.

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There are a lot of misconceptions about why people go into the sex industry. What drew you to becoming a sex worker?

I:

Being able to work for myself, the flexibility of choosing when I work, and of course, the money.

It does pay extremely well. It allows me to work minimal hours, in comparison to someone who works the standard 40-hour week. I could make someone's fortnightly wage in a couple of hours.

When I was in the corporate industry, it was high pressure, long hours, long days and highly stressful. To then work in the [sex] industry, and not have that amount of stress was a very big thing for me.

I’m not saying that this work doesn't come with stress or things like that, because it is actually really difficult work and it's not for everyone.

With all the judgement and stigma surrounding sex work, how do you feel about being a sex worker?

I:

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I'm extremely proud about being a sex worker and I'm pretty open and vocal about it with most people. If someone asked me what I do, I gener- ally will tell them. With my family, I'm a bit more hesitant about telling them because I know the judgment and stigma that comes with it and sometimes it's just not worth the energy to have to deal with a conversation like that. I find all my friends, and the younger generation, are extremely open to it and it's a lot more common than what it used to be, or I guess it's just more out there. I also think perhaps it's just because it's my world, so that's just what I see all the time, hence it might be different to someone who's not in the industry. I actually really like being able to talk about it, and have that conver sation with people and say, I'm an escort, because it's not that common. If I can reduce the stigma one conversation at a time with anyone or everyone that I meet, I'm happy to do so.

Issue 01/2021: Sex

Many people would assume that friends and family wouldn’t be supportive of sex work, but is that really true?

Are your friends and family supportive of you being a sex worker?

I:

All my friends are very supportive. Some of them say that they would love to do it themselves, but they just don't think that they could.

My brother and my mum are supportive too.

Although, they do worry that I am safe, so I think that's more just their concern. I don't go into details with them about bookings and things like that, as I would my best friends, but they accept that that's what I do, so there's no issues there.

In your experience, what are some of the challenges you have faced as a sex worker?

I:

When you're having a shitty week or a shitty couple of days, you're just not in a good mental space or you really can't be bothered dealing with people, if you were in an office job, you can just go to work, sit at your desk and continue along.

But when you're doing this work, you can't do that. You have to show up to the client's house or wherever you're going. Most sex workers have got an alias too, or a different name that they use, so you have to walk in as that person and put on an act. It does take a lot of energy.

The easiest thing about the job though, is when I can actually have conversations with my clients.

When you vibe, and you really get along, it just makes the time you spend with them actually nice, and you can actually meet some really interest- ing people. But if they are a bit awkward and they struggle to have conversations, because obvi- ously, there's plenty of men out there who are like that, it can make it a bit difficult. You just want to be human with that person, but they really can't give you anything back. That's really annoying.

We know society has a lot to say about sex work and as it stands, there is quite a stigma surrounding the occupation. How does this make you feel?

I:

It is frustrating, because at the end of the day, it shouldn’t matter what you're doing. You're using your body to get up and go to your job, whether you're making coffee, you're working corporate, or you’re a stripper, you're still working. How we choose to make our money shouldn't really impact anyone else.

Ultimately, what someone does for work doesn't define their worth. It doesn't make them any less worthy than someone who isn't in the sex industry.

You should never judge someone by what they do for work.

We’ve talked a lot about the challenges sex workers face, but what about the positives and the things that you enjoy about being a sex worker?

I:

It’s a big confidence boost and can be healing for people who maybe have suffered from body issues, or eating disorders or body dysmorphia, because it actually helps you become more confident in your skin, and helps you love yourself a lot more. A really big part about being a sex worker is that you're a lot more open and confi- dent and accepting of others. I find that all my sex worker friends are probably the least judgmental people that I know.

Ilina

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Consent:

The First Step*

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Issue 01/2021: Sex

WORDS BY Zayan Ismail @zayan.dan

ART BY Brooke Stevens

CW: Contains references to sexual acts and descriptions of rape and/or sexual violence Sex is an age old concept that has been constrained, regulated and tabooed. But what remains consistent — whether you’re engaging in cunnilingus, anal or a hand job — is that consent is absolutely necessary and without it, sex is actually assault or rape, making it completely punishable by law.

According to the Australian Institute of Family Studies, across all states and territories, the age of consent varies between 16–17 years.

Sexual acts with children under the age of 16 is a criminal offence.

Moreover, people who are drugged, drunk or passed out cannot give consent even if they clearly say yes.

So what is consent? Consent simply pertains to permission or approval to do something. It is communicative but not just verbal in form, where one agrees or disagrees to perform sexual activities. It should be freely given without any pressure, intimidation or manipulation. It must also be mutually understood and can be entirely reversible, meaning that you can change your mind if you are uncomfortable, even if you’re right in the middle of a sex act. Despite such simple notions, some people still fail to understand the nuances of consent.

For example, what happens if your partner says yes to going into the bedroom and making out? Does that mean you can now have penetrative sex? No. Consent needs to be specified. Saying yes to making out or cuddling does not imply penetration.

If a person is wearing a short skirt, a long skirt or no skirt at all, consent does not depend on a piece of clothing either. If one does not invite people to touch or perform sexual acts, whether they’re fully clothed or butt-naked, it’s an automatic no.

Now we’ve talked about the notion of ‘consent’ being largely verbal thus far, but it’s important to note, in some instances, that’s not the only way we can gauge how our partner is feeling. Some people may feel shy or withdrawn to actively speak out, so in such cases, body language or sounds may indicate a person’s level of consent. This could come in the form of hand gestures, moving one’s body away from yours or even crying. Make sure you’re attentive to these less obvious cues too.

With all this in mind, how do you approach asking for consent? It doesn’t have to be formal or boring. For example, before doing anything sexual, you can simply ask questions like, “do you wanna kiss?” Or “can we try this?” As previously mentioned, consent can also be identified through non-verbal cues such as caressing or touching during foreplay, which can be helpful indicators that show your partner is comfortable.

To give consent yourself, a simple ‘yes’ can suffice. You can also reciprocate the same non-verbal gestures with your partner. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, verbalise it with a ‘no’ or by pushing your partner away, because sex is always sexy, as long as it’s completely consensual.

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WORDS BY Joseph Lew @josephyylew ART BY Gabrielle Poh @gee.poh

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Issue 01/2021: Sex

The Transformative Power of Casual Intimacy The first time I touched another person I was 16. His parents were out of town for the weekend — in Spain or Morocco or something of the sort — and in the one hour in between the end of the school day and when he was meant to go pick his brother up from tutoring, we dug ourselves underneath his messy floral bedspread, whispering hushed secrets and tracing love letters across one another’s spines.

Armed with the horny desperation of every teenager ever, we quickly began the awkward dance of fumbling hands and rushed intimacies, his lips brushing their way up my torso as his fingertips tugged my shirt upwards.

“It’s too cold,” I whispered, before pulling his hands back down.

The second time I touched another person I was 17. We came across each other in the secluded bedroom of a mutual friend’s house party, each of us seeking respite from shallow conversation and meaningless exchanges. Buzzing from Passion Pop and cheap wine, fuelled by the fleetingness of our interaction, we sought escape in one another, easy conversation escalating into subtle flirtations, rushed kisses, frantic touches. I remember his hands sliding under my shirt, moving their way across my chest, my shoulders, my back — at which point I froze up.

“Maybe not tonight,” I said, before hastily exiting the room.

Unbeknownst to me, this pattern of events would be one that would repeat itself over and over again. Beckons to undress deflected by excuses, one after the other — at the beach, by the pool, in the bedroom. It’s too sunny. I’m freezing. No, I'm fine. Yes I’m sure. I think I’ll just leave it on.

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Not much introspection is needed from me to understand why this was the case. When I think back to those adolescent years, the images instantly come flooding back: nights spent in front of the arched mirror on my wardrobe door, criticising jagged hips and protruding ribs, bacne and bony wrists. I hated the way my reflection pointed out my every flaw, exposing every square inch of myself I had tried to hide.

But insecurities look different in another person’s eyes. The lips of strangers taught me that. In the dark corners of nightclubs, in the bathrooms of bars, they brushed over the parts of my body I had always failed to love, whispered worship to forlorn locations — ears, eyes, lips, neck, back, spine, stomach, thighs. Beneath slurred speech and reverent gazes they praised every aspect of myself that I thought needed changing — they loved how my body was shaped and moulded, the curve of my spine, the way my skeleton resisted the captivity of muscle, flesh and sinew. This is how I found acceptance in the most unexpected of places.

Don’t get me wrong, of course at first, I struggled with it all. I failed to reconcile these people’s perception of me with my own, I laughed them off, brushed off the compliments, shrugged off the adulation, thinking they were absurd to see my body the way they did. Who actually likes my torso, my arms, my ribs, I’d think to myself. But at the same time, I was oddly drawn to the validation, the idea that someone would choose to seek pleasure from me upon first glance. Again and again, I would return to these places, hearing sweet praise whispered to me until eventually I started to believe it all for myself.

Even though I’ve long moved past those years, those fleeting nights have always stayed with me. Not the people, nor their touch — those left the briefest of impressions — but the rush that one can only get after being seen the way they always wanted to be seen. I’ve locked those moments into a first-aid kit in the back of my mind, reminding me whenever I feel like the person in the mirror isn’t enough, that there’s someone standing in the corner of a nightclub waiting to tell me otherwise.

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Issue 01/2021: Sex

The Transformative Power of Casual Intimacy

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Issue 01/2021: Sex

ART & PHOTOGRAPHY BY Callum Johnson @neo.cog.ito

Assembly Guide: Me + You

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So...

Can I Fuck My Way to Heaven?

The Folk’s Given As people who had a rural upbringing in northern Sri Lanka with a low likelihood of tripping over a Playboy mag, my parents didn’t have the heightened attitudes, beliefs and experiences about sex that I have been endowed with.

I had prompted a discussion with my mother on the topic of sex a few months ago. I was curious to hear her take on the ever-contentious matter.

I was looking to challenge my biases around what I thought her views would be.

WORDS BY Sanjiv Raveendiran ART BY Betty Gu @_bettygu 42

I was surprised and glad to hear her say something along the lines of, ‘sex is great’ when done in a loving context, that quality was more important than quantity and, that it was ‘natural’.

My long overdue 'talk' with my mother ended with her sharing with me that sex wasn't 'everything'.

It registered... partially.

Issue 01/2021: Sex

Fuck, Me

La Verdikto (The Verdict)

Growing up, my parents didn’t have much to say to me on the matter of sex. They didn’t explicitly prohibit it, but it was implied that sex was not to be 'fucked with'.

I used to think that sex and religion couldn't possibly be bedfellows. But it may turn out that they’ve successfully been in bed together for eons.

Sex done well has been suggested as a way to lead a progressive spiritual lifestyle, by many ancient spiritual traditions.

Growing up in a family observing one of the stricter Hindu paths, my stance on sex before marriage was that ideally there wouldn’t be any sex before or outside marriage in my own life.

However, I’m left to navigate a whole different landscape of subtle and direct sexual programming.

By a certain age, which seems to be younger and younger, if you’re not being perpetually sexy and having sex, it’s simply not cool! Get with the program!

Hence, a well-meaning traditional approach only existed, in my experience, to generate shame.

However, the promises made by any media around sex, is often elusive and disappointing. Too good to be true.

Hence, I can begin to appreciate the principle of restraint around sex. It may help preserve the best it has to offer. If what sex has to offer is so great, why do we tend to tiptoe around it? Maybe what has been projected at humans by religion, as hard rules around sex, can be seen as merely guidelines or principles to help expand the scope sex has as a positive influence on our lives.

Through the work of sexologist, Alfred Kinsey and later, the magazine publisher Hugh Hefner, sex was set free in the mid twentieth Century. Porn went from carvings on ancient ruins, into magazines, then onto the internet in high-definition video and now VR. Despite this, we haven’t reached a utopia on earth and sex-related compulsions are being cited as one of the reasons for some relationships ending.

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Sorry, We Only Charge Premium Here I can’t say I consider myself an expert on OnlyFans, the mechanics of a straight, cis man’s brain, nor do I claim to speak for all women in the world.

I do however consider myself, with a whole lot of confidence, a feminist, with lived experience as a woman and a slight social media addiction.

The unfortunate reality of these three facts is that I have been both subject to, and an observer of the expectations of women under the male gaze.

While I, and I’m sure many other women, would love to make some sort of commission from the men who show us unwanted attention or carry a certain expectation in regard to the way we present ourselves to the world — let’s be real, it’s probably a bit far-fetched.

But welcome to the twenty-first century, now there are women who have done the next best thing.

From OnlyFans to raunchy Instagrams and everything in between, there are women profiting off the male gaze. And if you’ve been exposed to these creators’ platforms then you’ve also been exposed to the hate, threats and abuse that they receive on a daily basis.

If you’re wondering what I’m talking about, then I’m sorry, but you’re not paying very close attention.

What you’ll notice when you do, is that most of this hate is from men.

Interestingly enough, it’s the men that follow, subscribe to, or at least give the odd stalk to, these female creators.

The core of the issue here is that these are men who are clearly interested in the content that women produce, yet actively go out of their way to put them down for it. Double standards? Hypocrisy? Just plain misogyny? Whichever one springs to mind first, bingo.

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Issue 01/2021: Sex

The reality is that while we have come a long way, so many men still, (maybe without even realising it) subscribe to the notion that women owe their body, their appearance and their sexuality to men.

So, when women don’t ‘pay up’ and instead, they get paid, these men get mad about it. Women are taking control of the narrative and put simply, men don’t know how to read that book.

If you’re insecure, just say that. Because I’ll bet you anything that commenting on Anna Paul’s photo and calling her a slut isn’t achieving what you’d hoped, nobody’s buying into your bullshit. Anna is simply too busy driving her custom-wrapped BMW and riding up and down her in-home elevator to worry about you and your misspelled, derogatory comments.

I don’t have the answers, and this feels more like a rant than anything else, but I think it’s an important conversation to have because while we’d like to think it’s just the Brandons and Chads of Instagram that perpetuate stereotypes around sex work, it’s also our friends and our families. We have a long way to go.

So, here is my completely non-expert but well intentioned opinion on the above: 1.

If the world of OnlyFans or similar is not your world, still have the conversations, call out the crap and play an active role in dismantling a system that impacts every woman, sex worker or otherwise.

2.

If it is your world, or you think it might be, then fucking get it girl. Use what you’ve got and make some damn money. And when you do: charge premium, baby.

WORDS BY Coby Renkin @cobyhr ART BY Carla J. Romano @crmn.studio

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Issue 01/2021: Sex

Naiyanat Sornratanachai @naiyanatrix

WORDS & PHOTOGRAPHY BY

Subjugation (Part Two)

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Issue 01/2021: Sex

To tie is to hug. Every pattern, every knot, and technique are completed with the sense of trust between both the rigger and the rope bunny.

To make someone submit to you is to create the sense of security.

They know they're safe with you. When that emotional connection is formed, then it can be translated into ties.

Subjugation (Part Two)

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WORDS BY Carla Tiernan @carla.tiernan ART BY Georgia Lilley @georgiam_lilley

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Issue 01/2021: Sex

Dear Melissa, You deserved better.

In 2021, Australia is a modern and progressive country. With successful self-love, body positivity, eating disorder awareness and sex positivity campaigns on social media, more and more girls are feeling comfortable in their own skin. This rise in social media feminism has led to numerous women achieving body confidence whilst engaging in empowering, pleasurable and consensual sex lives.

However, the depiction of women on season eight of Married at First Sight Australia, and the unbearable misogyny it toted, set these movements backwards a million years.

Sadly, 31-year-old contestant Melissa Rawson fell victim to this at the hands of her husband on the show, Bryce Ruthven.

Bryce commenced the season by telling beautiful Melissa he “wouldn’t go up to [her] in a bar”, also stating that her green eyes weren’t good enough for him because he prefers blue.

The next red flag was when he ranked her below three other women on a level of attractiveness list which the experts encouraged them to do, as they claimed it would help couples with honesty and intimacy.

Cruel, right?

All of this did not stop Bryce from sleeping with poor Melissa and inexplicably telling her he still wanted to be with her.

Bryce continued this gaslighting behaviour until it all came to a grinding halt. Cheating allegations involving him and his ex arose whilst filming, with multiple streams of evidence coming from fellow contestants Samantha Harvey, Booka Nile and more. However, Melissa refused to believe it.

Melissa began to isolate herself by avoiding social events with her friends to stay back with Bryce, continually putting up with his lying and manipulating behaviour. Unfortunately, they are still together now and have a podcast together.

On an even more disappointing note, Bryce isn’t the only man to blame.

Fellow contestant Samuel Carraro criticised Coco Stedman for not having big enough breasts, and claimed he broke up with his exgirlfriend because she didn’t have big enough boobs. Cameron Dunne even scrutinised Samantha Harvey for not going to the gym enough.

And sadly, the list doesn’t end here.

MAFS is Australia’s most viewed reality TV series. So the implication of depicting this behaviour on TV is significant. What message does this send to other women struggling through emotionally abusive relationships? Why was Channel Nine allowed to produce and air this?

What happens when society deems this behaviour acceptable?

51

More than a Fetish*

CW: Contains reference to racism and violence against women 52

Issue 01/2021: Sex

On Tuesday the 16th of March this year, in the US city of Atlanta, a man shot nine people. Seven out of those nine victims were Asian American women, who worked at a massage parlour that the shooter often visited.

Law enforcement stated that this behaviour could be explained by a sex addiction, a fetishisation of Asian women. The desire to eliminate desire itself. Many people of colour were able to see this incident for what it was, the grotesque result of racism and misogyny. Despite the fact that racism has become a more widely discussed issue in recent times, it took a few days for the media to catch up.

The toxic mix of hatred for people of colour and women has festered in society for a long time. I, as many women of colour, have seen it in people's eyes. Harmful sexual stereotypes play a big role in this issue, whether that be oversexualisation or fetishising Asian women, or an expectation of submissiveness. Interestingly the victims of this anti-Asian racism were of East-Asian backgrounds, although we know that anti-Asian racism extends to every group in Asia, and that darker skinned women of colour from other parts of Asia face the same dehumanisation that contributed to this horrendous event.

In order to better understand the Atlanta spa shooting, I interviewed three young women of Asian ethnicity. Kim (K), an undergraduate student of Filipino background, Crystal (C), a researcher at the Doherty Institute who is of Chinese background and Nicole (N), a postgraduate student of Malaysian background. Each of these women had their own experiences regarding the sexual stereotypes enforced on them.

When asked what their first response upon hearing about this attack was, their words reflect pain and the kind of maturity that only comes from adversity.

WORDS BY Dena Tissera @dena_c_t ART BY Ruth Ong @ru.thx 53

How did you feel when you first heard about the shooting that occurred at the Young’s Asian Massage Parlour in Atlanta?

What is your experience of stereotypes such as oversexualisation or submissiveness? Do you see it on dating apps or when you go out?

N: I don’t want to belittle the event but sadly I wasn’t too surprised.

N:

C: I felt like something like this was inevitable.

When there’s so much hate simmering for so long against an entire race of people, anti-Asian sentiment is nothing new, especially in the US, where violent attacks against minorities are a dime a dozen. Every week, who’s the hated group? I felt kind of numb to it.

K:

At first I was like this is racially charged for sure.

This is DEFINITELY some White dude who had a weird fetish for [Asian] women and he probably got ticked off because some girl didn’t reciprocate... It’s also the fact that America doesn’t care about their gun control. This is just gonna keep happening. Some White dude is gonna get away with killing a bunch of people.

One place when the oversexualisation of Asian women is particularly prevalent is in the media.

Depictions like the Japanese twins from Austin powers in Gold Member show Asian women in an overtly sexual manner. Simultaneously, these women are shown to be submissive, think Coach Carr and Trang Pak from Mean Girls. This encourages people to view Asian women through a hypersexual gaze, making it extremely difficult for Asian women to navigate the world.

There is very much a societal gaze that is enforced on Asian women and who they choose to be in a relationship with. I think there is some pressure to date another Asian person, but there is also this underlying disappointment that you experience because in some cases the idea of biracial relationships and children have been glamorised. There’s also this sense that Asian women can’t think for themselves, that they can’t differentiate between someone who likes them and someone who’s just fetishising them.

C: The way I deal with the awareness that others might perceive me as hypersexual, submissive, the ‘oriental doll’ stereotype or any of that disgusting stuff ever since I was 12 years old is just through repressing it. By not even consid- ering my own sexuality until very recently as a young adult.

K: As someone who spends a large sum of time on dating apps, it's very easy to tell when someones fetishising you just because you’re an Asian girl.

There’s a lot of openers like “hey spicy” or “oh, you’re exotic.”

It’s also weird being an Asian girl in a predominantly White area because of the radius of your app. It’s the algorithms! You’re presented with mostly White people because they’re the more popular people on the app. Especially when you first join Tinder, Hinge or Bumble. On those apps when you first download it, they show the most popular people in the area, and it’s always White dudes. Always. And with everything going on, it’s more important for me to think twice before continuing any relationship that I have with another person, because what happens if I don’t fit into their world?

The Atlanta spa shooting has brought anti-Asian racism and misogyny to the forefront of our society in a way that can no longer be ignored. It’s important to note that this is not a new issue. Way back in 1875, the US Government passed the Page Act, which prohibited women from “China, Japan or any Oriental country” immigrating to the United States because it was assumed they were travelling “for purposes of prostitution.” In an Australian context, these young women haven’t been able to escape anti-Asian racism and misogyny either.

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Issue 01/2021: Sex

This shooting occurred in the United States but do you think anti-Asian racism particularly against Asian women exists here in Australia?

N:

It's very much about microaggressions and casual racism, there’s less in-your-face blatant racism but that doesn’t mean it's not damaging.

Because it’s so casual, it does feel like our experiences are dismissed or belittled as a result of that.

Unfortunately for these young women, sexual stereotypes are something they face even in their own communities. Dating is a minefield for most of us, but for women of colour, even something like dating preferences become loaded with sociopolitical connotations.

Do people in your own communities expect hypersexuality or submissiveness from you too?

C: I used dating apps for a brief amount of time and fortunately I didn’t experience anything too overt, but I felt when I was matched with other Asian boys, there would be a certain expectation of what I’d be like, or a desire to fit me in a category — am I a party girl? A good girl?

I can’t just be myself. There is a fixation on what kind of person I am or who I date, whether it's only Asian boys or White boys. That was just nonsense. My own personal dating preferences become socio-political where I can’t just prefer what I prefer. It's always gotta be people telling me that I have internalised racism even if I don’t and everything I do is always about appearance.

I constantly think about how one of my boyfriends was Asian but my current boyfriend is White.

How are people gonna perceive that?

Ultimately, as a South-Asian woman of colour myself, I can tell you that these stereotypes of hypersexuality and sexual submissiveness are incredibly damaging.

Whether it is individuals such as the perpetrator of the Atlanta spa shooting, the media, or even attitudes of our own communities, the experiences of women of colour prove that the toxic mixture of racism and misogyny is nothing short of deadly.

More than a Fetish

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Letter to my Younger Self

Dear younger self, Sex was such a mysterious and confusing concept to you back then.

You felt like you knew what you were doing, but looking back you had no idea at all. There are so many things I wish I could have told you back then. So many things that would have gone differently if you had known a few important things beforehand. Now that I’m older, let me tell you what I wish I had known about sex when I was your age.

Firstly, don’t rush. There is no need to rush sex. Everyone should go at their own pace especially when it comes to developing their sexuality.

You are not behind everyone else if you choose to take your time.

If anything, taking your time just means you get to make the most of your sexual experiences.

Secondly, peer pressure is more serious than you ever realised.

The people around you had such a huge impact on how you went about your sexual development. Back then you did things to appease others, your partner and society. Now you know you should only participate in sex because you want to and not because you feel that you have to.

You will know when the time is right, so listen to yourself instead of others.

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Issue 01/2021: Sex

Thirdly, the books and movies lied. They lied so much. Sex is nothing like how it’s described in the books, movies or even how others have described it to you. Society only tells you about the pretty parts of sex, not the ugly parts. Many times, sex is uncomfortable and awkward, especially the first few times. Having good and enjoyable sex isn’t always something that happens naturally or magically. It depends on so many different factors.

And finally, take your sexual pleasure into your own hands!

Take ownership of your sexuality. Don’t expect someone else to make you feel good, because more often than not they won’t be able to.

Understanding your own body and being able to guarantee your own sexual pleasure is the most important thing you can do for yourself.

Love, your older self.

WORDS BY Binari Almeida @binari55 ART BY Jessica La @jessicala.png Article Title

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WORDS BY Natasha Schapova @nataschap_ ART BY Sarah Annett @sa__designss

: r e d n i Rem Pill

Reminder: Pill. A notification I was all too familiar with, having received it at 6pm daily for the past eight years. Through high school, to graduating and moving to Russia, to moving back to Australia and changing my degree for the fourth time, the pill remained the only constant throughout my turbulent adolescence and early adulthood.

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I was 14 when the pimples that plagued my face began to affect my self-esteem. After experimenting with all sorts of topical creams and washes that only aggravated my sensitive skin, my GP father suggested I go on the pill. It’s now shocking to remember the casualness of the advice from my father and the ease at which my GP printed out a prescription for me, as if I was requesting a basic antihistamine, and not a long-term synthetic hormone that would wreak havoc on all of my bodily functions. At no point was I informed of the risks, nor aware of the moratorium I was committing myself to.

Doctors have a three-step action plan for patients suffering from acne. The first step is to recommend topical treatment such as benzoyl peroxide or salicylic acid, if these fail then the next step is to introduce the pill or an antibiotic. If this is also ineffective, then a vitamin A medication such as Accutane is prescribed. Since most teenagers suffer from hormonal acne, just like I did, topical treatments are rarely effective. This therefore places us on an express route to the pill.

The combination pill contains progestin and oestrogen which works by tricking your body into thinking it has already ovulated, therefore preventing the release of an egg. It also works to balance the level of androgens (male hormones), that are known to commonly cause acne.

But the negative side effects are dismissed and barely mentioned, leaving many women oblivious to the effects that those little balls of hormones are behind. The pill can cause weight and mood changes, headaches, loss of libido, blood clots, and an increased risk of breast cancer. Although more research is needed to prove this, long-term use of the pill has also been linked to gastrointestinal disorders, autoimmune diseases and a decrease in bone density.

Now, the pill is great at minimising acne, but doctor’s rarely discuss that this is merely a bandaid, not a treatment. The pill balances your hormones while you are taking it, but once you stop, you face the same dilemmas that prompted you to first start it.

So why go on it at all? Sure, it was fantastic to experience the confidence that comes with clear skin, but it only delays the issue at hand. And now, at 22, I am left wondering about what consequences I will have to face, coming off the pill. I only wish 14 year old me sought alternative treatment methods.

After eight years of being on the pill, I have decided to bin the pill packets and regain control over my body. Throughout this time I have lost my sense of self, as a result of moodiness, general apathy and overall tiredness. This decision overwhelms me with anxiety, as I await the symptoms that may follow like an irregular menstrual cycle, acne, hair loss and even more mood swings.

But obviously, not everyone taking the pill is motivated by their acne. For some, the contraceptive pill is used for its titular function. Which begs the question: why do women have to bear the responsibility of preventing pregnancy? We pump ourselves full of hormones, endangering our health, while men are really only provided two birth control methods — condoms or a vasectomy — neither of which involve tampering with hormones.

Yes, yet another example of the gender inequality and pressure that women have to face. For now, we’ll probably have to get used to it. Take it, or don’t, the choice is yours. I’ve finally deleted my reminder, and boy does it feel good.

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Woman

WORDS BY Lily Anna @funkyspaghettii PHOTOGRAPHY BY Naiyanat Sornratanachai @naiyanatrix

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Silhouette in the evening, A vision of a madonna cloaked in indigo and chrome To be found in the smoke screen but never for long.

She undresses from her guise, in the confides of her abode And performs a ritual to unwind from her affair with the night.

To her, it was not a service to romance, But self-righteous dance.

Taking lustful glances at sex and temporary affection, Her body was a playground for childlike naivety and exploration.

Gratification was a stranger’s appreciation And she lavished in the luxury of it all.

She was a fearsome force Forgetting her girlhood was a sentence frequently spoken from the lips of feigned voices.

As they all watched from the altar of one, A holy body that thrived in speculation and judgement, Lost in tracking the movements of flowering femmes like a permanent occupation.

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They told her to sit down, Cover up, Rid her lips of crimson colour.

She’s all too busy growing up Feasting on the flight of her own rhythm, No intervention would be her saviour.

A velvet tongue Glides the surface, A pleasurable act Guided with purpose.

She was not afraid of a mid-afternoon rendezvous Basking in the sun with all the lights on Staring directly at you.

For she does not love in muted tones But in a sensual symphony of rushed heart beats and promises.

She won't hold on for long, The labour of her love is in flux.

Don’t forget about the woman Decorated in crimson and chrome, Align yourself with the woman Who is her own muse, her home.

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Issue 01/2021: Sex

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“Make love when you can.

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— Kurt Vonnegut