Sex therapists can be mysterious. Maybe this is the first time you’ve heard about them. Maybe Dr Jean Milburn in Sex Education is the first and the only sex therapist you know. Maybe your knowledge about them is based on assumptions, or even imagination.
My first experience with a fake orgasm was watching a moaning Meg Ryan, aka Sally, throwing her head back in a New York deli and chanting “yes, yes, yes!”. The first time I pulled a Sally myself was a few years back, under the expectant gaze of a partner who asked if I had finished after a few minutes of rock ‘n’ roll, and I giggled awkwardly and nodded.
When it comes to sex, we all know what feels good. What belongs where for things to *happen*, however we want it done. But is that all we know when it comes to our sexual organs, or our bodies in general?
Australia is finally playing catch-up on sex education in schools, and we’re starting to learn the ins and outs of our bodies and minds. But I’ve finished school, and a while ago now. I definitely wasn’t taught a lot about my anatomy then — so how and why should I learn it now?
Sex scenes. Some fooled your 12-year-old self into thinking life was a Nicholas Sparks movie, some take you by surprise at family movie night (ground, swallow me up!) and others are just as hardcore as your last Pornhub search.
If you’d ask anyone what ‘love’ is, you’ll mostly get positive, cute-yet-cringy definitions of it. But ask someone who just went through a major breakup, and they would give you a whole new set of gut-wrenching definitions of ‘love’. No matter how long, how serious, or how intimate the relationship is, a heartbreak is still a heartbreak. The level of ‘pain’ is (arguably) relative, but that’s not the point here. The point is, it is something we would choose not to go through if we had an option at all. In extreme cases, many don’t believe in love anymore, just as darkness is the absence of light, that solitary feeling after a breakup is the absence of love.
Once, I saw this TikTok that summed up some desires we all feel at one point or another. It made me realise that many of us are in the same position. That position, my friend, is not the infamous 69 or the fabled “committed relationship” — it’s the single life. But all of this shouldn’t matter because what you don’t see is the sheer power every individual has to live out this desire for themselves. And it has a name:
Childhood. A blissful, almost utopian time in nearly everybody’s life, defined by happiness, purity and obliviousness. A time sprinkled with the belief that anything is possible, allowing us to swim in the wild and ornate potion of our imagination. We were assured that we could do anything that we set our minds to, and we embodied this mantra in every response to “what do you want to do when you grow up?”.
The number of women killed on our streets and in our homes is incredibly alarming. Coupled with recent university incidents, it has evoked fear in many. How do we stay safe? What is Monash doing to help out?
‘Victoria—The Education State’ on every third license plate was enough to convince me that Melbourne had plenty of good universities to choose from. The evaluation process should have been fairly straightforward. Does the uni have my preferred course? Is it reputable? Do I meet the entry requirements?