My sexuality is not fluid. I know it is meant to be – I know that, as a woman, the ladmag diktat that “female sexuality is fluid” is supposed to apply to me, and mean that pressuring me into having a girl-girl-guy threesome would be merely unleashing my buried erotic potential, should any male partner wish to do such a thing. But my sexuality is not fluid. It cannot be poured into a cup by someone else, made formless and amenable, consumed by anyone who wants to drink it.
My sexuality is not fluid. There are things I like, and things I do not like; things that incite me to pleasure, and things that do not. My sexuality is not fluid, even though it took me a remarkably long time to recognise this, to accept that my desire has validity and positivity, that I am not just composed of responsive matter but that I have a lust of my own (what is that lust for? That is my business). My sexuality is not fluid, though that doesn’t mean it is fixed: I enjoy meat but I could be a political vegetarian, and gorge joyously on fruits and grains, so why couldn’t I find different sexual pleasures as my ethics direct me?
But that does not mean my sexuality is fluid, does not mean it is a liquid that other people (male people) can decant to serve their own pleasure. When it comes to the boundaries of my own person, my wants are the absolute law: to say, as has been said, that it is “rooted in cissexism and general poor sex education” for a woman to reject those with penises as sexual partners is to say that women (female women) may have no boundaries, it is to say that the female libido is simply a formless puddle for others to plash in. (Who are these others? They are solid, they have form – they are, implicitly, male. While political heterosexuality may be demanded of women, aparently men are not required to swear their fealty to penetration. Funny, that.)
But my sexuality is a part of me, and it has edges and boundaries, inlets and recesses, all of which are my dominion. My sexuality is not fluid. And anyone who says it must be is trying to melt me into liquid nothing, watch me soak into the cracks of my own life, remove me from existence.
My sexuality is not fluid.