I have a condition that they keep changing the name of, and its names include joint hypermobility syndrome, generalised joint hypermobility, hypermobility spectrum disorder, symptomatic hypermobility… you get the point.
My condition means my connective tissue doesn’t do a great job at connecting. You don’t realise how much connective tissue is in your body until you have issues with them. My joints are too loose, and that hurts more than you’d think. I bleed and bruise easily, seeing as blood vessels are made of connective tissue. Things like taking off a shirt or sitting down can be surprisingly painful.
Disability colours your relationship with your own body. For some people, their physical disabilities may include being unable to hold a sex toy, genital numbness, erectile dysfunction, vaginal dryness. There are commercial options to assist with these, such as sex slings and the Bump’N Joystick, but they are expensive and aren’t always feasible options. I don’t have the space in my bedroom for a sex chair, and I don’t think my flatmates would appreciate me keeping one in the kitchen.
It means redefining what it means to have sex
Sometimes sex feels like a constant battle between my libido and my body. Sex can be difficult, or leave me sore and bleeding for the next few days.
That’s why I keep having sex.
Being disabled doesn’t mean I can’t have sex; being disabled means I have sex in different ways. If my joints are in pain, it means being creative with positions and propping up various joints with pillows. If I’m too fatigued, it means cuddling my partner and using my hands. If I keep bruising or bleeding, it means experimenting with non-penetrative sex. It means redefining what it means to have sex. Mutual masturbation can be sex; it doesn’t have to be intercourse.
Sex with a physical disability can be frustrating. At the same time, sex with a physical disability lets me learn to love parts of my body I might not always love.