My bookshelves… Sex

Hannah Witton recently did a video where she took viewers on a tour of her sex books (she’s a sex educator) and it inspired me to introduce you guys to my bookshelves, starting with my sex books!

A Curious History of Sex by Kate Lister
Cardinal Men and Scarlet Women, by Jan Keessen
Don't Hold My Head Down by Lucy Anne Holmes

Animals and sex

book shelf showing some of the books from the blog

Disability and sexual health

Note, this is primarily going to be about the experience of cis women as I know more about this right now and I feel that trans disabled people are likely to have some extra barriers.  And obviously there are many different disabilities and this post is going to focus on physical disabilities.  It is also important to note that some people have had great experiences, but it is a postcode lottery.

You would think that medical buildings would be one of the most accessible places in the UK, but the reality is shocking.  Being in hospital with a physical disability was horrendous, but that’s for another post, this one is about sexual health services.

A recent report from Jo’s Cervical Cancer Trust found that:

  • 88% said it is harder for women with physical disabilities to attend or access cervical screening
  • 63% said that they have been unable to attend cervical screening because of their disability
  • 49% said that they have chosen not to attend cervical screening in the past for reasons such as previous bad experiences related to their disability or worries about how people might react.
  • 45% said that they felt their needs have been forgotten and 38% said that they feel the doctors or nurses don’t take their needs seriously

This is not ok.  Sexual health matters.  And it’s not just about cervical screening.  The issues at play with the smear test are also often found in STI testing.  All of this is putting women with disabilities in danger.

In terms of screening for breast cancer, the NHS website says:

“Mammography is a procedure that’s technically difficult. You have to be carefully positioned on the X-ray machine, and must be able to hold the position for several seconds.

This may not be possible for women with limited mobility in their upper bodies or who are unable to support their upper bodies unaided.

If you have a disability, your breast screening unit should be able to advise you if screening is technically possible, and on the most appropriate place to be screened. This will usually be at a static unit.

If a mammogram isn’t technically possible, you should still remain in the call and recall programme, as any increased mobility at a future date may make screening easier.

If a woman can’t be screened, she should be advised on breast awareness.”

And whilst I understand the physical limitations, it doesn’t feel like enough.  In the US, between 2001 and 2005, 75.4% of women without disabilities went for a mammogram, compared to 54.9% of those who have a disability.

Barriers to accessing sexual health services include, but are not limited to:

  • surgeries that are not wheelchair friendly – a shocking 63% of respondents to the Jo’s Trust survey said their GP was wheelchair accessible
  • a lack of hoists and adjustable beds
  • previous negative experiences – women with disabilities may have had more interaction with the medical community and bad experiences more generally can mean they are reluctant to go for screening.  It’s not uncommon for women to feel they aren’t listened to or taken seriously when they present with illness or disability and no one wants to subject themselves to more of that.
  • related to which is staff attitudes, and not seeing disabled women as sexual beings and hence seeing sexual health as a low priority.

“In some cases, women reported being told screening is too complex to arrange and have been told it is not possible or even asked to sign a waiver stating that they do not wish to receive screening.”
– Jo’s Trust

Attitudes and beliefs taint the way people are treated.  I’ve had GPs question why I wanted contraception and assume the only reason would be to stop my period.  This didn’t happen before I became disabled.  And if someone isn’t seen as sexual, then by extension they don’t need to access sexual health services.  This way of thinking can block innovative, or just common sense, ways of providing these services. 

These solutions might be home visits for people unable to leave their bed, buying a hoist for the GP practice or referring people to a hospital where there are appropriate facilities.  It could be having appointments which allow for women with disabilities needing longer or it could just be better training.  Sometimes it might be as basic as having an accessible GP practice which really shouldn’t be a big ask.  And sometimes it might be even simpler and be a case of including access information on the website.  I checked out the online information for my nearest sexual health clinic and there is no mention of access or blue badge parking and that in itself is a barrier than can be easily and cheaply overcome.

Other good practice ideas include having staff that are flexible, that can problem solve and who want to work with the patient to find out what works for them.  It’s possible extra reassurance may help, or a “we’ll try it and see what happens and go from there” attitude.  For some women, going in and seeing the space may help them to work out adaptations with the staff beforehand.  It might also help to have another professional on hand to help.

There are other sexual health barriers that disabled people face, for example, if someone has limited use of their hands, how can their check their breasts/testicles for lumps?  Which can make the NHS advice for women who can’t have mammograms that bit more difficult… and certainly adds to the following horrific statistic:

“Disabled women don’t have the same access to screening for breast and genealogical cancers as non-disabled women, and are up to three times as likely to die of breast cancer.”
Disability Horizons

Unfortunately, this tends to mean the onus is on the woman to keep pushing for screening and be their own advocate… And until things change, one of the most important things we can do is make people aware of the issues and keep talking about them.  Hence this blog post!

Let’s talk about sex…

Earlier this year, there was an issue of Oh Comely which had a call out for personal stories about sex and it got me thinking.  Whilst I have long championed the need for comprehensive sex and relationship education in schools and youth clubs and seen the value of it first hand, and whilst I have post after post on my blog about sex, I haven’t had a particularly great sex life.  And to say that feels like I am invalidating myself when I’ve previously stressed the need to speak about sex.

To say that you haven’t had a particularly great sex life feels like you are openly telling the world you are a failure.  And I have felt like a failure because of my sexual experiences.  I want to make it clear here that this isn’t an attack on my partners.  That said, the first (consensual) fumble I had was pretty horrific and came an hour or so after my first, also not great, kiss.  The latter was a little like an octopus had attached itself to my face, the former was in the dark in an empty outdoors shopping centre.  Cold hands forced themselves under my clothes, my breasts were grabbed like they were pieces of meat and then a security guard turned up.  I stayed with that partner for far too long.  But aside from more fumbling and a pretty horrific experience where I blacked out during oral sex, we never went “all the way”.

Enter partner two.  A much better person, much better kisser and someone I still love, platonically, today.  Partner two showed me just how bad partner one had been… Although partner one did, over time, become better at kissing.  I hope their spouse is grateful to me.  And yes, facebook stalking does reveal they are married.

Partner two was the first person I really wanted to have sex with.  And things were great.  Right up until penetration.  It just would not work.  And as sex is such a natural behaviour, and as no one ever tells you about the problems (aside from erectile dysfunction), I thought I was broken.  I felt great shame and I felt like I was letting my partner down.  I felt like I wasn’t a “proper” woman.  I was a failure.  Guilt ate away at me – I wasn’t giving my partner the full sexual experience, it wasn’t fair on him – and I was so ashamed of myself and my inability to do this one, supposedly easy, thing.  I mean teenagers can do it so why, at 21, couldn’t I?

At the same time as I was failing at sex, I was telling people about how important high-quality sex and relationship education is.  I was advocating for pleasure focused information.  I was championing the need for women to stand up for themselves and get what they need out of sex.  And here I was, a failure.

At one point during my relationship with partner two, I was volunteering at a youth club.  We had a night where we got out the demonstrators and condoms and other forms of contraception and we sat down with a small group of young people and talked sex.  We were really open, we answered their silly questions whilst they relieved themselves of some of their nervous energy.  And in answering the questions honestly and openly, they started to ask some of the more pertinent questions.  The group included some lovely girls who were reasonably informed but also some lads who had probably been kicked out of their school sex ed class for being rowdy.  They were also the same guys who regularly boasted about buying condoms.  Yet when the demonstrators came out, they put the condoms on inside out.  They didn’t realise there was a right and wrong way.  And so we sat there, casually explaining why you needed to put it on the right way and why you pinch the end.  It was a low pressure, really open discussion and I really think that everyone of those young people took something valuable away, whether it was knowledge or the notion that it is ok to ask questions and to talk about sex.

And then, I went home to the partner I could not sexually fulfil.

By this time, I had seen a doctor who gave me a word – vaginismus – which made me feel a tiny bit less like a freak.  She had advised using vibrators, starting small, and working my way up.  This is sound advice and it chimes with everything the internet had to offer back then, which was incredibly limited, but we didn’t really get anywhere.  Later I would learn that my genetic condition – Ehlers Danlos Syndrome – was likely contributing to my troubles.  Essentially some of my muscles work overtime and some don’t do very much, the muscles around my vagina are some of those which work overtime.  Every time anything comes near it, they clamp down.  Tampons, smear tests, coil insertion, they are all out of the question.  For a long time, I thought there must be something physically wrong with me down there.  Alongside this I was anxious that I might have been sexually abused and blacked out the experience*.

I was too embarrassed to talk about this with my friends and when sex was discussed I sort of nodded along as if I could relate.  Penetrative sex is a normal, natural process, without with humans would have died out millennia ago.  For thousands and thousands of years, women have been able to do this one thing that I could not.

Things are different today.  Today I am more confident about speaking up, I am more confident and I live by the words I’ve preached for the last couple of decades – sex is not defined by penetration.  We live in a world where penis in vagina sex is privileged above all other kinds, a world where penetration is seen as the end goal, a world where other sexual activities are labelled foreplay.  Today I am much more confident about shouting this from the rooftops.  I am much more confident that my assertion that there is no right way to have consensual sex is correct.  I am much more confident that my version of sex can be just as pleasurable.

Today there is more information out there.  Vaginismus even has a page on the NHS website which it didn’t when I was trying to figure things out ten years ago.  In some ways things have changed a lot, there is more information out there, but in other ways, things haven’t changed at all.  We still assume that sex is about penetration and we still don’t discuss sexual issues beyond erectile dysfunction.  Our view of sex is still filtered through a patriarchal, heterosexual lens.  I hope by sharing my story, by speaking up, that I can help someone else who is going through a similar experience.

I haven’t had a particularly great sex life but I am incredibly proud of the journey of self discovery that I have been on.  I have grown so much and I have a much more secure sense of self worth these days.

I haven’t had a particularly great sex life but everything I have to say about sex still stands up to scrutiny.


*I was abused, as far as I know I didn’t black out and as far as I know I wasn’t penetrated.  It took me years to accept that what had happened was abuse.  But that is a story for another day.

Sexuality and learning/intellectual disabilities 

The heavy stuff:

Firstly, I am going to use the phrase learning disabilities as this the English convention right now.  I understand that different countries use different terms and that some people may take offence at the phrase.  Language differs all over the world and changes over time but that is a discussion for another day.  The amazing crippledscholar talks about it over on her blog in several posts.

By learning disability, I am using the Mencap definition:

A learning disability is a reduced intellectual ability and difficulty with everyday activities – for example household tasks, socialising or managing money – which affects someone for their whole life.

The other disclaimer here is that I am not someone with a learning disability and I have no immediate experience of sex and learning disabilities.  However, I am using reputable sources to compile this and I wanted to include it in my series about sexuality and disability because I think it’s an important part of the discussion.

If you have more experience in this area and would like to write a post, please let me know, I would love that.


Now let’s get down to business…

Relationships and sex can be great.  Everyone should have the option to be part of a relationship or to have sex, as long as they have the capacity to consent.  The second part of that sentence is crucial and I’m going to do an entire post around it at some point so for now, assume I’m referring to people who can consent.

Many people with a learning disability say that relationships are important to them – yet only 3% of people with a learning disability live as a couple, compared to 70% of the general adult population. – Mencap

So what’s going on?  Obviously there’s a mix of factors.  As we’ve seen before, there are people out there who say they wouldn’t have sex with someone with a disability so that will be one part of the issue here.  Other limiting factors include difficulty meeting people and social isolation, again this is common across the wide spectrum of disabilities.  Historically, living in institutions limited disabled people’s ability to engage in relationships.  The same goes for a lot of supported housing where there are strict routines and rules about people staying over and a lack of privacy.

Risk management

However, when it comes to learning disabilities in particular, there is a tendency for the people around the disabled person to risk manage.  This comes up in mental health services and in relation to other disabilities as well but seems more prevelant in the are of learning disabilities.  This idea that a person should not be allowed to take risks because of their illness.  The idea that people should life a risk free life simply because of their disability.  Think about it, we all take risks every day.  And some choices made by adults are riskier than others but we don’t stop them from making them.

We are less concerned by intimacy and love in learning disabled people’s lives than we are about (containing) sex #sexualities #cedr16

– A tweet from the Centre for Disability Research’s 2016 conference

I appreciate that caution may be appropriate depending on the situation but there is a difference between risk management and just flat out restriction.  And these attitudes then mean that sex education isn’t needed because “these people” won’t be having sex which in turn limits the persons ability to make safe choices.

When it comes to sex and disability, risk is privileged over pleasure.

This need to protect people from themselves is tied so much into the idea that anyone with a disability is child like.  I think this belief is probably more ingrained when it comes to learning disabilities.  Seeing someone as childlike means you don’t even think about them as a sexual being let alone think about how you can help a person safely explore their sexuality.

A report from Barnados around child sexual exploitation and learning disabilities says:

Professionals spoke at length about how young people with learning disabilities
can be overprotected and not given opportunities to learn, develop and take
risks in the same way as their non-disabled peers. Examples of this included
how young people’s experiences of the world can be confined to a door-to-door
taxi or bus service to and from a special school. In relation to the increased
potential for vulnerability to sexual exploitation, one example that interviewees
gave was how young people with learning disabilities may feel that they need to
keep relationships secret:

‘They’ve often not been allowed to have experiences that other young people
often have, so they may have to keep secrets because they do enjoy risk-
taking behaviour or flirting, for example.’

I think another key point in the discussion around sex and learning disabilities is that in most cases parents are far more involved in their child’s life that they would be for a child of the same age without a disability.  This can make it difficult to bring up sex at review meetings and other spaces where the conversation about relationships and sex could be had.

Hypersexual

As I mentioned in a previous post, there is a prevelant idea that people with learning disabilities are oversexual.  This has led to people being sterilised, “for their own good”.  Somehow this idea of a highly sexualised person with learning disabilities is used to prevent the person from engaging in sex and relationships completely.  It is somehow seen, by some people, that because of their learning disability, the person is inevitably going to be being taken advantage of and abused.  And whilst abuse is a real issue, this erases the idea that a person with a learning disability can be in a healthy, happy, consensual relationship.

Anyone with inadequate or non existent sex education is vulnerable to abuse and I will be writing a post about disability and sexual abuse.  If we don’t talk openly about sex, it perpetuates the idea that it’s taboo thus meaning that if something does happen that isn’t ok, people don’t know what to do, how to explain it or who to talk to.  Good sex education should cover consent, communication, safe sex and the physical and emotional aspects of sex.  This is the case for everyone even if you don’t think they’re going to have sex.  Empower people with information!

And if we don’t talk about sex and don’t ensure people know about consent and boundaries and what’s appropriate etc, then it can make it very hard for someone to know or understand that they’ve been sexually assaulted. In the Barnados report mentioned above, one young girl with a learning disability explains that she didn’t know it wasn’t ok for an adult to have sex with a child so she didn’t know she could say no.

Myths around oversexual people with learning disabilities can lead to further issues.  I have come across cases where someone with a learning disability has been blackmailed and controlled with the threat that everyone will be told they are a paedophile.  The fact this is used and has been successfully used as a blackmail technique shows how ready some people are to believe the hypersexualised trope.  On the other hand, if a person with a learning disability discloses being abused, they are often not believed because of this idea that they are non sexual.

The consequence of the view of people with learning disabilities as forever
children, assumed to be asexual, has been an overemphasis on protection and a denial and repression of sexuality or sexual behaviour. The view of the sexuality of people with learning disabilities as dangerous, informed by eugenics, involved control through institutionalisation, segregation and sterilisation. These stereotypes have provided what McCarthy calls contradictory but powerful “distorted frameworks” through which the sexuality of people with learning disabilities can be viewed.

Pregnancy and parenting

There seems to be a huge fear about people with learning disabilities getting pregnant which will inevitably feed into how people feel about the issue of sex.  This is despite evidence that shows a persons IQ is not an indicator of how good a parent they will be.  It is because of this fear that a number of women with learning disabilities find themselves on contraception, whether that is forced, coerced or heavily suggested.  There has been research done which shows that in a lot of cases the young woman isn’t told why she is taking this pill or being given this injection etc.  There are also a large number of cases where contraception is given to prevent periods and the link to pregnancy is not discussed.  This takes away bodily autonomy and can reduce care givers perception of the need to discuss safe sex despite not reducing the risk of rape and STIs.

LGBTQ

Some people with learning disabilities will identify as LGBTQ or be questioning their sexual orientation.  This can be difficult for anyone and support and information around sex should be inclusive of everyone.  It can be hard enough to be a sexual person when they world sees you as asexual, let alone not be heterosexual on top of that.  There are a number of resources out there including Secret Loves, Hidden Lives.

Support

If you are a person with a learning disability or you’re the parent of someone with a learning disability then there is support out there to help you navigate sexuality.

From what I understand a lot of young people with learning disabilities miss out completely on sex education or it is taught in a way which is not appropriate.  Because of this, services have been set up to help fill that gap although given the current political situation, I think they are few and far between.  But where they exist, they can be very powerful tools.

The following quote comes from someone working on a project specifically around sex and learning disabilities in London:

Through the Westminster project we talk about safeguarding, consent, what is appropriate in private and public spaces, and what the differences are between good and bad touch.

Much of it comes back to letting people with a learning disability know that having a relationship is ok and that it can be wonderful and make you happy. And we talk about how it is ok to be attracted to people of the same sex and that not all relationships are between a man and a woman and end in marriage and children.

While we must accept that for people with a learning disability it may always be that little bit harder to embark on a first relationship, there are ways we can make it easier.

– Miguel Tudela de la Fuente

There are specific resources out their to help people with learning disabilities and those around them to navigate the world of sex and sexuality.  I’ve listed a couple and would love to know if you’ve come across any that have been helpful:

Note: I haven’t discussed contraception and people with learning disabilities here.  I want to but it was getting long and I recently got attacked online for being a forced sterilisation apologist (which I’m not) and I’m feeling a bit raw still.

Forced sterilisation of disabled people

There are a number of reasons for sterilisation including not wanting (more) children, issues with menstruation and society not wanting you to reproduce.

As such, this post will have inevitable crossovers with the post on disability and menstruation, particularly as methods of stopping periods lead to (possibly temporary) inability to have children and sterilisation can lead to stopping periods.  Additionally the argument that a person can’t cope with periods can be used as a way of arguing for sterilisation.

The History of Sterilisation

The history of sterilisation is one intertwined with race, class, disability and Nazism.  So it’s probably not surprising that people don’t talk about it much.  I’d also like to add that I’m focusing on disability here.

I feel that the history of sterilisation is an important part of the discussion.  You may not be aware for example, that forced sterilisation of disabled people predates Hitler.

The existence of disabled people was increasingly seen in the UK and USA as a threat to social progress.  Darwin himself wrote in his 1871 treatise, The Descent of Man, “We civilised men…. do our utmost to check the process of elimination; we build asylums for the imbecile, the maimed and the sick.. .Thus the weak members of society propagate their kind.”

New Statesman

In the 1880s, Francis Galton was wondering if it would be possible to get rid of the “undesirables”.  He went on to argue that reproduction by “feeble minded” people should be stopped.  Thus providing an excellent springboard for the idea of forced sterilisation.  Unfortunately this wasn’t limited to the view of one man sitting in a room pondering, it was to become a popular idea with a range of people across the political spectrum.  We’re not just talking far right Nazis here.  Left wing politicians were also believers in this approach.

In 1907, The Eugenics Education Society, it’s aims were to “bring all matters pertaining to human parenthood under the domination of eugenic ideals” and to “effect improvement of the race through knowledge of the laws of heredity.”  In 1931 they drafted a bill for the compulsory sterilisation of “mental defectives”.  Although the bill failed, it was resubmitted and helped raise awareness for their cause.  Another bill for forced sterilisation of certain kinds of “mental patients” was proposed in 1931.  Labour MP Archibald Church proposed the bill, claiming it was necessary to stop the reproduction of those “who are in every way a burden to their parents, a misery to themselves and in my opinion a menace to the social life of the community”.  Again, this wasn’t passed but coerced sterilisations occurred instead.  Because it never become law in the UK, it is impossible to know how many forced and coerced sterilisations have taken place here.

In 1934, The Eugenics Education Society would recommend legislation to ensure the ‘voluntary’ sterilisation of ‘mentally defective women’.  A contradictory reccomendation if ever there was one…

The movement towards sterilisation and eugenics wasn’t just happening in the UK and Germany.  It was a worldwide phenomena and the first International Eugenics Conference was held in London in 1912.  Attendees included Winston Churchill.

At this time, over in America, disabled people were refused entry to the US on the grounds that they would weaken the characteristics of existing citizens.

President Theodore Roosevelt could not have been more blunt: “I wish very much that the wrong people could be prevented entirely from breeding; and when the evil nature of these people is sufficiently flagrant, this should be done. Criminals should be sterilised and feeble-minded persons forbidden to leave offspring behind them”

New Statesman

Laws were introduced to stop people with certain disabilities from having children, the first such law being in Indiana in 1907.  From that point onwards in America, people with disabilities were forcibly sterilised, often without being told what was happening.  In Virginia, the law was in place between 1924 and 1979 with more than 7,000 people being recorded as sterilised.  I suspect the actual figures were much higher and included people outside the scope of the law.

Indeed, reasons given for sterilisation in North Carolina include “Pauper. Needs close supervision. Hypersexuality,” and “She wears men’s clothing all time” (at the time this was probably meant to be read as “possible lesbian”).

By 1938, 33 American states permitted the forced sterilisation of women with learning disabilities and 29 American states had passed compulsory sterilisation laws covering people who were thought to have genetic conditions. Laws in America also restricted the right of certain disabled people to marry. More than 36,000 Americans underwent compulsory sterilisation before this legislation was eventually repealed in the 1940s.

America was not the only country in the Western world to introduce compulsory sterilisation of disabled people. Sweden sterilised 60,000 disabled women from 1935 until as late as 1976. Thousands of children labelled as having learning difficulties were sent off to live in “Institutes for Misled and Morally Neglected Children” where they were required to undergo “treatment”.

New Statesman

Under these laws, I would have been sterilised because I have a genetic condition. As much as I’m clear I’m not going to have children that is my decision and I would be devastated if my autonomy was stolen from me in that way.

The introduction of these laws, in America as well as European countries, meant that after the Second World War, disabled people who had been forcibly sterilised were not considered to have been the victims of war crimes (and hence not eligible for compensation).  The reason being that other countries had similar laws to the German law which allowed forced sterilisation and indeed, other countries had had those laws before Germany.

Present Day

Forced and coerced sterilisation still happens today, even though it is clearly stated by the UN that forced sterilisation is violence.  Whilst it seems to disproportionately affect disabled women, they aren’t the only victims:

The Issue of Consent

There has, and continues to be, an emphasis on sterilising people with mental illness or learning disabilities.  Perhaps, as they are often the most vulnerable, they are also the easiest to coerce or their very disability provides an excuse – “she wouldn’t understand, she wouldn’t be able to cope…”.  And yes, there will be some people who do have difficulty understanding menstruation and sex but they could also have trouble understanding what has been done to them and why they can’t be parents.

Often in situations where people can’t easily give consent, it’s their parents who provide it.  Parents who have their own, busy lives, their own values, their own prejudices, their own desire to keep their child a child.  As far as I know, most parents struggle with their children growing up and menstruating can be part of that.  If you can stop it, can you also stop your child from becoming an adult? And if so, who is going to stop you?

Another strong argument made is there is no appropriate family planning support available.  This argument is an easy one to counter – why should we forcibly sterilise people when we can increase access to support?!  I suspect a lack of support is one reason why the choice to sterilise is made by parents – explaining to someone who’s got a learning difficult about periods etc can take time and patience and different ways of explaining and parents may not have the knowledge, resources or the time. Indeed, a 1993 study by Roy et al found that alternative contraception as a way of dealing with menstruation had not been explored by families requesting sterilisation.  Admittedly this is an old study and information has become much more widely available with the internet but I suspect that often parents are not exploring all the options.  (Note, I’ve not been able to access the study so I’m getting the info second hand).  McCarthey in 2009 found similar situations where the decision to get sterilised was made in light of exaggerated claims about the consequences of pregnancy and a withholding of information around alternative menstruation control.

Sometimes, as a parent, it comes down to firefighting and you have to deal with other things first, leaving no time for a potentially long process towards understanding menstruation and sex. Because of this, accessible information is a must along with specially trained sexual health workers.

The Consequences

And what are the consequences of sterilising children?  I’ve already written a lot so I’m not going to add any detail but children’s bodies are growing and changing and sterilisation is going to impact that.  And yet if you want to prevent someone from starting their periods, as is often argued as the reason behind it, you need to do that to an 8-12 year old girl.

In addition to physical effects of sterilisation, forced and coerced sterilisation also has psychological effects including extreme trauma, depression and grief. It also further “others” those of us with disabilities who no longer have the option of reproducing (I know adoption etc is available but that’s another area where disability works against you…).

One issue that’s come up a lot in my reading is that sterilisation is protecting people from unwanted children as a result of rape.  The idea being that if the risk of pregnancy is taken away, then these vulnerable people can then be released from institutions and allowed to participate in society.  None of this acknowledges that the risk of rape remains and that instead of locking people up or taking away their fertility we should be dealing with the abusers.  It also suggests that rape is ok provided there isn’t a baby as a result…

Alongside this is the issue of consensual sex where the people involved are deemed unfit to raise a child.  Removing the risk of pregnancy is somehow enough to allow people to live “out” in society… In some instances, people were institutionalised in order to convince them to be sterilised and in others, discharge from institutions on the condition that the person would be sterilised first. (Silence is Roaring, PDF).

Finally… 

I’d just like to add, to further complicate, or demonstrate the complexity of the issue, that I would actually like to be sterilised. As per a previous post, I struggle a lot with my period and I know I, not going to have children, partly because of my Vaginismus and partly because i have chosen not to pass on my genetic condition. Additionally, I can’t care for myself, I can’t pick up a child, I can’t do so many things related to looking after a child that I have chosen not to have children.

But the key word here is chosen. I have considered my options, I’ve made an informed decision. My choice.

Side note: despite, or perhaps because of, the history and ongoing practice of forced sterilisation, I’m actually struggling to get any medical professional to understand where I’m coming from and to agree to go ahead with the process. Perhaps because unless I’m in my wheelchair I don’t always look disabled?