Tuesday, November 20, 2012

The Joy of Disabled Sex

Movies: The Sessions

"I asked Cheryl whether she thought I deserved to be loved sexually. She said she was sure of it. I nearly cried. She didn’t hate me. She didn’t consider me repulsive."
--Mark O'Brien, from "On Seeing a Sex Surrogate" 

I've always been fascinated with sexuality. Not always in a prurient way, although, yes, sometimes in a prurient way (Mom, if you're reading this...sorry!). But fascinated by sex in an academic way, and also in a socio-cultural way. What are the implications of sex in our society? In other societies? In history?

Something I often think about in regards to sexuality is that despite being one of the most powerful and transformative experiences in human life, sex is so often used as a weapon to shame or hurt. Physically, rape and abuse are disturbingly prevalent, especially among vulnerable populations. But sexual shame and humiliation are just as prevalent and perhaps even more insidious. Religious communities police sex to varying degrees, using shame and threats of hell to control what they see as sexuality that goes "against God". Secular culture is filled with messages that tell people they are too fat, too ugly, too slutty, too virginal for sex. Or, conversely, that they are not enough: not enough of a man, not enough of a woman.

I'm not a clergyperson. And I'm not a psychologist. And I don't have an advanced degree in sociology or gender studies (yet...). But I can tell you something that I know is true, and I think you know is true as well: the people and forces in society who say that you don't deserve physical affection and that you are in some way "not good enough" for sex are wrong. You are good enough. The religious communities that tell you your sexuality and sexual expression are sinful? They are the sinners. Is it a worse sin to have sex outside of marriage, or to be gay, than to systematically remove someone else's bodily agency through constant shame, physical punishment, and threats of God's wrath?

Mark O'Brien, a poet who contracted polio at age 6 and spent most of his life immobile in an iron lung, knew something about shame and sexuality. He was raised by a Catholic family that never spoke of sex. Despite Mark's severe disability, he graduated from college and became an accomplished poet and writer. But by age 38 he had no sexual experience beyond kissing. He could achieve orgasm, but it was often out of his control and usually while he was being washed by his attendants, adding an extra helping of humiliation.

In his wonderful essay, "On Seeing a Sex Surrogate", Mark explains that it wasn't just his disability that kept him from having a sex life; in fact, he had interviewed a series of disabled people with active sex lives for an article, so he knew that it was certainly possible. The biggest obstacles for Mark were his repressive upbringing and his own self-loathing about his disabled body.

But Mark O'Brien was a brave and pretty independent dude, and so at age 38 he decided it was time to lose his virginity. With the blessing of a very cool priest, Mark hired a sex surrogate to teach him how to have sex and how to accept his own sexuality.



The Sessions, a frank and sincere film, chronicles Mark O'Brien's experience with sex surrogate Cheryl. The mind-blowingly amazing and versatile actor John Hawkes (from Winter's Bone and Martha Marcy May Marlene) plays O'Brien--a man who used words and a sense of humor as both an entrance into and a defense mechanism against a world that had trouble adjusting to his body and disabilities. Helen Hunt plays Cheryl, a warm woman who is able to see that Mark's fear of sex stems not from his disability, but from the anger, shame, and self-loathing that he has had to fight against his whole life. Cheryl doesn't just teach Mark to control his body in order to have "fully penetrative intercourse", but also to forgive himself for contracting polio as a child.

The Sessions itself is a pretty decent film--the acting, as mentioned above, is excellent all around. It's lightly humorous and talks about sex in a very frank way without being vulgar or even showing anything too explicit. The film itself is unoffensive, positive, and, honestly, not that challenging. What is challenging are the ideas that propel the film: that disabled people have just as much of a right to sexual expression as able-bodied people. That being a man means more than have a strong body or the ability to be virile in bed. That God Him/Her/Itself rejoices in physical love and affection. These ideas surround and influence the movie. But to get the full experience of what Mark O'Brien was thinking and going through, you should really read the article. It's not long, but it gives insight into how even just a few hours spent with a therapist whose job it was to help him explore sex truly changed Mark's life and perception of his own body and sexuality for the better.

We live in a weird world. The constant thrum of not good enough not sexy enough not thin enough not rich enough surrounds us. We get messages from our families, our churches, our communities, and our peers on what acceptable sexuality looks like. We feel like we need to ask permission to be ourselves: is this ok? am I normal? will you love me? will you accept me? Our politicians use our bodily autonomy as wedge issues to ensure votes. And some of us, like Mark O'Brien, have the added burden of an unprivileged body. A disabled body, a fat body, an "ugly" body. 

What is so easy to forget as we negotiate and navigate this world where it feels like so much is at stake, is that it's up to us. Perhaps God gave you your body, but in giving He also gave you the right, the access, the choice. It's your body. It's your sexuality. Don't use it to hurt others or yourself. Don't waste it on shame and fear. Use it for love.

4 out of 5 stars


Mark O'Brien and a friend.

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