This article is about sex and women’s pleasure. And not for the purpose of making babies or pleasing male counterparts. Just plain sex.
This article isn’t about medical expertise or biological research. It’s also not about sadness, longing, or nostalgia for what once was before injury or illness. It’s about everyday women and their real, current sex lives. It’s about the myriad of possibilities for sexuality after paralysis — that sex can be fun, adventurous, frivolous, messy, tender, exploratory and more. And it’s about opening a door for communication.
I want to make a few things clear: I’m not a sex expert or medical professional. I also wouldn’t consider myself “kinky,” “weird,” or “sex-obsessed” (whatever that even means). I’m simply a red-blooded woman who considers sex and sexuality to be one piece of my identity as a whole human being.
I’m also a T4 complete paraplegic, 14 years out from injury, who has discovered that there is a significant dearth of opportunities for women with paralysis to dialogue about our unique sexual lives and bodies. We especially don’t get chances to talk about sex beyond how it relates to medical diagnoses, pregnancy, or relationships with men.
In America, our discussion of sex and sexuality is already stunted. Even though sex infuse