So I’m loath to write this post, but I’m going to write it anyway.

Within feminism, there’s the idea of ongoing, willing, and informed (sexual) consent. It’s influenced by BDSM. Without it, BDSM is assault. This is a good idea that can and should carry over to non-BDSM sex.

There’s also the idea that we shouldn’t shame people for clothing choices that read as sexual/erotic, nor assume sexual consent from clothing, flirting, or dancing. This is all good, too.

Furthermore, asexuality (and all the shades of it—aromantic, demisexual, etc.) is now being recognized as the legitimate orientation that it is. Fantastic.

All other non-hetero orientations and non-binary genders are finally getting their due. Superb. The complexity of women’s sexuality is being revealed and finally respected. Outstanding.

Here’s my question. Do you have to publicly present your feminist, liberal, consent-respecting, non-binary & non-hetero acknowledging credentials to be considered sex positive?

There’s a tendency in the social justice circles that I love to interrogate the social dynamics and history that informs the sexual choices, sexual and romantic partnerships, and sexual presentations that we make. All gravy to me, I can eat this up with a spoon …

But I also love things that many people within social justice circles often feel has been over-represented in media, literature, cinema, relationship dynamics, you name it. Even though the weight of cultural conditioning has influenced my options, I still like those options—the obvious, hetero-, binary, male POV that I look for in my own sexual life. I’m not going to go into details because I hope I’ve implied them well enough. Why is my position assumed not to be feminist within feminism?

I’m not asking for pity. I’m not defending sexual harassment. I’m not giving rape culture, sexism, misogyny, heterosexism, biphobia, lesbophobia, transmisogyny, misogynoir, kyriarchy, and the like a pass.

I’m saying people who simply want to (1) fuck, (2) swing, (3) flirt, (4) dress for sexual attention, (5) have non-monogamous sex that isn’t so tightly bound to perfect polyamory, (6) have popular sex that is tightly bound to monogamy, (7) enjoy consensual “shorthand” sex with each other that might not initially be perceived as such from the outside, (8) enjoy popular sexual expression, (9) have binary man/woman relationships (sexual and otherwise), (10) acknowledge their more than average sexual drives, (11) be sex workers and/or partake in the services of , art by, and material from the aforementioned and (12) have binary sex that can read as male-centered exploitation even when it isn’t … these people, my people, have a place within feminism, too.

Within feminism, I would like there to be a presumption of good will until we prove ourselves untrustworthy, not the other way around. I would like us to be unashamed of our culturally obvious choices and orientations and support the other historically marginalized ones.

I want space within feminism to celebrate and acknowledge my obvious sexual self. I also want space within feminism to keep whatever privacy I deem necessary, since sex, at its essence, is specific, individual, situational, complex, and multifaceted, not a referendum. I want this for everyone else, too.

I want the equality the most marginalized people deserve, not the privilege that erases them at the expense of my humanity and theirs.

I hope this makes sense.