#( ouchie

Kinger, help your son

Kinger, ayuda a tu hijo

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New from our founder, Heather Corinna, a guide for those sexual times that wind up more “ow” than “oooh.”

It’s remarkably easy to hurt ourselves in the pursuit of feeling good. From genital abrasions to broken skin to pulled muscles to infections to allergic reactions, even fractures or breaks, exploring our bodies and their capacities sexually can sometimes mean finding out⁠ what’s past a bodies’ limits. We can think there was enough lube, but who among us (cough) hasn’t found out at least once that there wasn’t? We can forget that when it feels to us like we couldn’t possibly get enough of something, our body parts may have an entirely different and considerably threshold (um). Heck, you can hurt yourself just getting a date a glass of water (says my once-broken toe, bitterly).

For whatever reason (probably a combination of ableism⁠, totally inhumane sexual⁠ ideals and maybe some leftover stuff from our DNA way back when we lived a wilder existence), if and when people get hurt during sex⁠, they often feel ashamed or embarrassed, like they have ruined something. Getting hurt in our bodies is as acceptable an experience as feeling good in them. It’s not “weak” to get hurt, and it doesn’t mean anyone failed at anything, it just means we’re living in the body of a mere mortal, not a sexual superhero. So, if some kind of sex injury happens to you or a partner⁠, don’t get hung up in negative feelings about it. Instead, turn your attention to yourself or whoever got hurt. Not only might you or they need physical care, caring for ourselves and each other in attentive, tender ways is only likely to enhance our sexual experiences and the ways we connect to ourselves or one another through them. This kind of care, much like general sexual aftercare, can be something that is a highlight of a sexual experience, even when something painful or bummerful happened which that care is centered around.