I Could Be a Better Sex Columnist Than Carrie Bradshaw

I don’t know if it’s because I’ve been (hate) watching too much And Just Like That, have reached the inner teen part of my ~*hEaLiNg JoUrNeY*~, or am just trying to hold onto some semblance of authenticity amidst this hellish timeline rampant with AI generated LinkedIn posts desperately—yet poorly—trying to mask our crumbling society but…I just know I could be a better sex columnist than Carrie Bradshaw, so…I’m starting a blog. And this is my first post. She’s a leo!

I just finished reading bell hooks’ all about love for the first time, after a copy appeared in a “free” box on my front steps in the rain one afternoon earlier this summer, mere days after I declared my intent to seek it out. Who was I to turn down the universe’s not-so-subtle nudge? I spent most of my evenings in July laying in the grass at Clark Park in West Philly making unhinged margin notes on the crinkled, water-damaged pages. This era quickly became a series of core memories for me as I chewed on her words about love, and occasionally sex, while dripping sweat and digging my toes into the dirt, wondering how my life might be different had I accessed these concepts twenty years ago. How they might influence my future.

Google will tell you it’s a self-help book, which is reductionist at best and misogynist at worst, effectively deterring swaths of readers who will never seize the opportunity to marinate in her candid prose where, as one online reviewer on her website writes, “you will find yourself recognizing things you never thought to question.” And somehow this is still true even if you spent two years in group therapy marketed as a master’s degree in sex ed, unearthing the root of every single thought you’ve ever had about relationships and sexuality in zoom classes with people you’ve yet to meet irl but have irrevocably bonded with. In grad school I interrogated my own sexuality until I understood it to be more of a “both/and” situation (bisexual), my gender (definitely a woman, but now more varied and confident in its expression), my preferred relationship structure (I won’t even get into that now), and yet until reading this book I’m not sure I ever thought about a working definition of love. On the last page of chapter one bell hooks writes, “When we are loving we openly and honestly express care, affection, responsibility, respect, commitment, and trust. Definitions are vital starting points for the imagination. What we cannot imagine cannot come into being.”

So, why am I rambling about love in this Xanga ass blog post (iykyk)? Because I’m working on divesting from the structures that keep me—all of us—begging an algorithm for visibility, capital (financial and otherwise), and dopamine hits. Those things decidedly do not feel rooted in this definition of love, especially while people are more isolated than ever, our government is investing in and actively rooting for the genocide of Palestinian people, and our civil rights are being threatened every day under a literal fascist regime. 

I am a sex educator, and this blog will reflect that, but this work goes far beyond teaching the mechanics of sex and the prevention of pregnancy or STIs. It means acknowledging the interconnectedness of all ecosystems, of all people. To create life you cannot rely on one single element or one singular circumstance, and to sustain an ecosystem you must rely on its interdependence with other ecosystems. Because sexuality, sexual expression, gender, and the ways that we relate to each other are all intrinsic, yet individual, qualities of our humanness, they are interconnected with our ability to live authentic, satisfying lives both individually and collectively. As adrienne maree brown says so succinctly in the first section of Pleasure Activism, “there is no way to repress pleasure and expect liberation, satisfaction, or joy.”

Grounding myself in an ethic of love and pleasure means that I’m seeking to align my values with my actions, and sharing my expertise and passion for sex ed on my own website feels a lot more aligned than cranking out Reels with whatever audio is currently trending. And don’t get me wrong, I genuinely value and appreciate my fellow educators who can seamlessly connect with their audience that way, but my own consistent avoidance is telling me that isn’t authentic for me. This is Sex Ed Seeds after all, the vision is to plant the seeds wherever, and however we’re able. This is my first seed in a new garden. And I will look forward to what it blooms.