I always begin my sex workshops with an anatomy lesson. I don't want to bore my students or give them flashbacks to high school biology class, but I can't assume that everyone has detailed knowledge about physiology. You would be amazed at how little most people know about their own sexual anatomy! Most of us weren't paying close attention to that particular lecture in health class, and many people, sadly, have never looked closely at their own genitals. There is a reason that feminists in the 1970s were whipping out those plastic speculums and handheld mirrors at consciousness-raising groups all over the country. When women and men have a better understanding of our bodies, we feel less alienated from them. Knowledge is the first step toward being more in tune with your body.
From the important anatomical structures and where they are located to their different functions and how they may contribute to pleasure and orgasm, knowing more about your own body and how it works can give you a better grasp of how you experience sexual pleasure. Of course, sex is not just physical; emotional, psychological, and spiritual aspects of eroticism are just as important as our working parts. I don't want to diminish their significance in any way; however, it's crucial for people to get better acquainted with their bodies and those of their partners if they want to give them boundless pleasure.
When I began research for my book The Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex for Women, I wanted to gather as much information as possible about anorectal anatomy. Since my background was in sexual activism and writing, the scientific and medical aspects of anal sex were less familiar to me. Naively, I thought that anatomy -- including our sexual anatomy -- was a science based on "hard facts." You know, anatomists cut open a cadaver and sketched out all the organs. Then, they hooked some live people up to machines, monitored how different anatomical structures functioned, and took lots of notes. I believed that everyone at least agreed on where everything was located. Was I in for a big shock.What I discovered is that, like the social sciences, anatomy is open to different interpretations and schools of thought. And when it comes to sexual anatomy, particularly women's sexual anatomy, we girls have been given the short end of the information stick. First, it seems that anatomists know each minute detail of every millimeter of the penis, but they do not have comparable detailed information about the vulva, the clitoris, or the G-spot. In fact, the lack of information about female sexual anatomy and function is startling. Second, many anatomical drawings and explanations are often vague when it comes to the intricacies of female genitalia; these texts either gloss over or disregard altogether entire structures that are important to our sexual anatomy. When depictions and descriptions do reference particular parts, they fail to explain their function, their relationship to other structures, or their role in sexual arousal and orgasm. This lack of information leaves us in the dark about our bodies and maintains the "mystery" of female genitalia for both women and men.
As a result of misinformation (and a lack of any information in some cases), feminist doctors, scientists, sexologists, healthcare advocates, and activists decided to do their own research. Two particular groups produced significant research that has become the cornerstone of a new school of thought about the female body. The Boston Women's Health Collective published the first edition of Our Bodies, Ourselves in 1969, and it has produced several subsequent revised editions of The New Our Bodies, Ourselves (the most recent was released in 1998). While the book was not specifically about sex, Our Bodies, Ourselves contributed greatly to women's understanding of their sexuality. The first time I heard the word "clitoris," I went straight to the index of this classic to see what everyone was talking about!
The Federation of Feminist Women's Health Centers (FFWHCs), an organization of women's health clinics around the country, published a groundbreaking book called A New View of a Woman's Body: An Illustrated Guide in 1981. Written by the women of FFWHCs, this insightful book offered us a completely revised perspective on female sexual anatomy with a specific focus on the clitoris. What the writers of the book (and certainly plenty of feminists) saw as the most egregious error in the male-centered view of sexual anatomy was the focus on the vagina as the primary female sexual organ -- the one most comparable to the penis. This book argued a different point of view: the clitoris is most anatomically analogous to the penis, and, more importantly, it is much more crucial to women's sexual pleasure than the vagina. In addition to identifying the clitoris as the center of our sexual universe, the FFWHCs wanted to expand its anatomical reach as well.
The authors of A New View blasted the mainstream concept of the clitoris being only a small nub of sensitive flesh protected by a hood above the vaginal opening. Instead, they recast the clitoris to encompass not just the clitoral glans and shaft (the nub), but also the inner lips, the frenulum, the vaginal opening, the urethra and urethral sponge. Shifting our entire understanding of female sexuality, feminists hoped to empower women with this new conceptualization of their bodies. Most feminist sex educators, myself included, base our own work on this updated definition of women's anatomy and the far-reaching potential of the clitoris. Slowly, feminist efforts to expand the definition of the clitoris have seeped into mainstream medicine. For example, in a recent Newsweek article on female desire, John Leland told a revealing story: "In a conference room at Boston University, [Professor] Trudy Van Houten stops an unsuspecting medical student. The clitoris, she challenges the young woman, a fourth-year med..."
Pucker Up. Copyright © by Tristan Taormino. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.
