Women wank. Shocking, I know, but we do; we have yearnings and desires and fantasies which we are sometimes overcome with and the need to get ours, to be satisfied immediately, and yeah sometimes the only way in which to achieve this magical feeling is to do it our damn selves. No judgement.
Here’s the thing: men masturbating is normal. It’s expected. Boys get to that age when they start feeling things in the downstairs department, and they have to take care of it themselves. We all know this.
A lot of sitcoms have thrived off this very normal natural concept. For instance, teenage boy Rory in ‘8 Simple Rules’ getting his first erection in a women’s fitness class in one episode, talking to his grandpa about constant horny feelings in another and jacking off to a Victoria’s Secret catalogue in the downstairs bathroom (where he was promptly caught by his school principal, cue the canned laughter) in another.
Or ‘How I Met Your Mother’ and its endless jokey references to Ted being lonely and having to get himself off most nights while his married and man-whore friends get laid left, right and centre.
Or the very British ‘My Family’, with youngest teen Michael Harper constantly locking himself away in his attic room with lad mags he would steal from his older brother…or worse, his Dad.
Same with films; most comedy flicks cannot resist a good wank joke, it’s basically a staple these days. I mean, ‘American Pie’, hello?!
However, sometimes films go one step further and make it that much worse. Some films imply not only that boys are constantly doing themselves, but that girls…don’t. That they can’t.
The 2006 film ‘It’s A Boy Girl Thing’ features a girl waking up in a guy’s body with a raging boner…and not knowing what the heck to do with it. Firstly, that’s just odd because it implies she hasn’t learned what an erection is or why it happens, and that would mean she’s had no Sex Ed lessons at school.
Secondly, it suggests that she wouldn’t have a clue how to pleasure herself.
That’s just incorrect and awful. The character Nell was harmless and girly, destined for Yale and determined to steer clear of bad boys. But c’mon, she was not that naïve.
I first discovered that I could get mine myself (after having a few guys try and fail) when I was eighteen. Late bloomer, I know.
Well, I was once tempted to when I was fifteen and sat watching my secondary school’s shameful budget production of Grease: The Musical; more specifically, I was watching the teeny hint of that lower tummy V-shape showing on the school heartthrob, playing Kenickie, as he sang “you’re burnin’ up the quarter mile…” and thrust his hips while standing on the bonnet of a cardboard cut-out car…wow.
Anyway, I suppose the idea of wanking had always seemed a little too crazy to me; the idea had always made me flustered and even a little fearful. I was totally 100% ready to have sex when I turned sixteen, before that even, but having a little fiddle with myself always seemed a little…extreme.
How wrong I was! After ending things with my disgraceful moronic friend with benefits ,who happened to be the first guy to ever give me mine on every occasion (thank you, dickhead), and finding myself with no future prospective partners, I decided to literally take matters into my own hands. It took a while but eventually I was a pro. I mastered masturbating. I might put that on my CV.
It changed things for me massively; for instance, every disastrous hook-up I had after that wasn’t as bad because I knew I could rectify my unsatisfied situation if need be. Also I found it so relaxing – when I was stressing over my dissertation, nothing relieved the tension quite like a nice solo she-bop. It also sends you off to sleep sometimes. Or gets you going in the morning…
Anyway, this post is not all about the phenomenon of female masturbation. It’s also about the dire need to normalize it.
I mean, women have one specific part of their downstairs equipment that is designed purely for pleasure. The clitoris contains about 8,000 nerve endings – that’s twice as many as there are in the penis. Plus way more than in your fingertips, your lips, or your tongue. Whoa. Why waste that?!
Some men will be totally flummoxed or just plain disgusted to hear that their female partner masturbates. I know some friends of mine ended their relationships because their boyfriends couldn’t handle the fact that they handled themselves sometimes. One friend even said her boyfriend felt “grossed out”. Another said her boyf had felt “humiliated”, that he “couldn’t satisfy her enough”. Yet, surely women know and accept the fact that their boyfriends will often have a casual tug on their own…because that’s seen as normal! *growls frustratedly*
I like to think we are headed in the right direction in this subject – for instance, I remember being at college, when shopping in Ann Summers was scandalous and taboo. Nowadays, it’s fairly casual and seen as ‘a bit of fun’. I am amazed that Ann Summers products still arrive in ‘discreet packaging’ and that they offer plain shopper bags to customers when they are out and about, to avoid embarrassment…what’s that about? I mean, I understand if you’re living with your parents, maybe getting a huge parcel with Ann Summers plastered on it could be a little awkward, but you definitely shouldn’t be ashamed to walk around your local shopping center with a saucy hot pink shopping bag.
Women should be excited and proud of their wants and desires. Women don’t need to be closeted masturbators or branded ‘nymphomaniac freaks’ for actually enjoying sex. Women shouldn’t be afraid of their own sexuality. Period. Ooh speaking of which, periods…no, I’ll leave that for now. Another time, maybe...
(Image: Leticia Cronin)