Navigating sexual fulfillment can be complex, especially when personal experiences and societal expectations collide. A reader, identified as Rode Hard and Put Back Wet, recently shared her struggles with orgasms that elicit fear rather than pleasure. The letter was featured in Slate’s advice column, “How to Do It,” where sex educators Stoya and Rich provide insight into such intimate dilemmas.
In her letter, the woman, a cisgender female in her early 40s, expressed her distress over her inability to fully enjoy orgasms. She described how, on the rare occasions when she did climax, it resulted in a significant release of fluid, causing embarrassment and discomfort for both her and her partners. This experience has left her feeling constrained and unable to embrace her sexual identity, despite being educated about sexuality.
Despite her knowledge, she articulated a fear of what she referred to as “squirting,” a term often associated with female ejaculation. She noted that her experiences did not align with what she had learned through research and personal exploration. The anxiety surrounding her orgasms has made it challenging for her to relax during sexual activity, whether with a partner or during solo masturbation.
In their response, Stoya and Rich emphasized the importance of understanding that experiences of squirting can vary widely among individuals. They pointed out that the physical response during orgasm is subjective and can manifest differently from person to person. They suggested that Rode might be experiencing a form of squirting unique to her body, which could help her reframe her perspective on the situation.
To alleviate her anxiety, they provided practical advice, including seeking ways to manage the physical aspects of her orgasms. Suggestions ranged from using protective covers during solo play to exploring alternative positions or environments, such as the bathtub, where cleanup is easier. Stoya and Rich also encouraged her to engage in exploratory conversations with partners, as many people find enjoyment in the act of squirting.
The column highlighted that communication and consent are key components of a fulfilling sexual experience. By discussing her fears and expectations with partners, Rode may find a supportive environment that allows her to embrace her sexuality without shame.
In a separate letter, another reader raised a more general inquiry regarding the frequency of washing bed sheets after sexual encounters. This individual expressed frustration over the increased laundry demands after moving in with her boyfriend. Stoya and Rich reassured her that frequent washing is not compulsory, especially if there is no significant mess. They recommended establishing a routine that balances cleanliness with practicality, suggesting alternatives like using towels or waterproof blankets to minimize the need for constant washing.
These discussions reflect the ongoing conversation about sexual health, comfort, and the normalization of diverse sexual experiences. As societal attitudes toward sexuality continue to evolve, platforms like Slate’s “How to Do It” provide valuable spaces for individuals to seek guidance and share their stories.
Ultimately, the journey to sexual fulfillment is deeply personal and varies for everyone. Understanding one’s body, communicating openly with partners, and addressing anxieties about sex can lead to a more satisfying and liberated sexual experience.
