Pssst . . . . the following is an article about . . . .

(are you sure the kids are out of the room?)

. . . . S-E-X.

Found in the current edition of HopeDance, a magazine from the central
California coast:

http://www.hopedance.org/issue21/articles21/disabled.htm

----Original Article Follows----
Doing it Disabled

by Flicka Dukes

Disabling sexuality ' My sexuality is fluid. It flows with my state of
mind, my health, my clothing - my general attitude. It flows like the
tide, ebbing and peaking from the pull of the moon. I don't believe I'm
alone in this peculiarity of life.

Looking back over my years, I observe a map of my self-esteem. It is a
reflection of my claimed status in life - how I felt about myself and my
surroundings at each interval. I see its valleys and mountains and
remember time and place. Lows ' when I was 24, the mother of three
children, and feeling very unloved, unwanted, and undesirable. And highs
' a 31 year-old single mother who worked as an apprentice machinist,
made good money, and knew my abilities and my sexual being. I felt
strong, secure and sexually confident. I projected that image.

I did take a side-trip between then and now - and that probably made
more of a difference in my sexual existence than I will ever know.

I was married (for the third time) at the age of 33. The man caught my
eye, caught my heart, and gave me the ability to be myself without
apology. He also gave me a great lesson on sexuality. I was injured in
an automobile accident less than two months after we married. I am
paralyzed from mid-nipple down and use a wheelchair for mobility. Three
years after the accident, I was still struggling to find my place. Who I
was. What was left.

I felt down. Lost. One night, in daring and desperate conversation, I
told my husband that I no longer felt like a sexual being. His answer
stung, but made all the difference in my life. He studied me carefully
and replied, "That is not my problem." Instantly, I knew exactly where
the problem lie. It was my state of mind. I knew I could perform
physically, I'd discovered that aspect of my sexual identity was still
intact shortly after my injury. I needed to take a good hard look at how
I perceived my sexual self in relation to the world, find my
shortcomings and adjust my viewpoint. I needed to stop projecting
negative thoughts about my sexuality.

Victoria really does have a secret. Yes, clothing does have a great
influence on our sexuality. There is a sexual direction driven by
appearance and how we feel about ourselves. After my injury,
hospitalization (months of nothing but hospital gowns) and
rehabilitation (where learning to dress oneself again usually involved
wearing sweat-pants on a daily basis), the importance of apparel had
dimmed in my memory. I also had to fight with the grief I felt after
coming home from the rehabilitation hospital and seeing my former attire
- that no longer fit my body - hanging in my closet and folded forgotten
in my drawers. High heels, short skirts and dresses that no longer
worked with my physique made me mourn for my former self. Work pants and
boots - no longer a choice - made me weep. They reminded me of my former
employment and the job I could no longer do. I had to find my new
identity whether I wanted it or not.

I decided my first step would be one that drove me back out into the
world and I enrolled in college. Once I overcame insecurities about my
use of a wheelchair (and the fact that I was old enough to be the mother
of most of my fellow students), I began to find a sense of self-esteem.
I didn't even notice that it had happened, but amazingly, I discovered
myself transformed into something desirable and necessary. I no longer
projected negative thoughts about myself and could see the difference in
how others viewed and treated me. I began to paint my nails and wonder
about new hair colors. I flirted once again. The change came from within
- as all changes must. This might sound pretty shallow, but it has real
depth.

What's up with sex? My ability to physically climax is still an enigma
after 14 years of paralysis. I understand that orgasm is 99% brain
energy, but the physical part is where I become confused. How can a
woman not feel a touch, or even a deep cut in the damaged area of their
body, but react to stimulation to their clitoris? Women with paralysis
have much better odds of achieving climax after injury than men. In
reality, we probably have about the same odds as women who are
able-bodied. We are also able to bear children without problem.

A male quadriplegic friend, who was injured in his early 20's, once told
me that "Black Monday", when the stock market crashed in 1987, was
almost as castrating to him as his original injury. Over the years he
had played the stock market and did quite well. He explained that he had
transferred his sexual ability to take care of a woman to his financial
capability. He was pretty straight forward with his inner feelings and I
understood that I was lucky to be a woman when it came to sexual
performance with a spinal cord injury.

Men with spinal cord injury have a much more difficult time adjusting to
life and their new sexual identity than women - in my opinion. Not only
do they have to stress and mourn the fact that they are no longer the
bread-winner in their usual way, but their sexual performance is not
what it used to be. Nowadays, medication (such as Viagra) helps
compensate for the difficulty of achieving an erection, but men must
still deal with insemination problems and the apprehension of truly
satisfying a partner.

Bottom-line ' Adding disability to one's sexual identity definitely
keeps life from getting boring. One consoling thought is that I didn't
have to endure the slow diminishing effects created by aging. I dealt
with many of these insecurities early in life and realized that my
position, my claimed status and attitude, belonged mainly to my
self-esteem. I created its securities within my own being. Now, at age
47, I feel no lack of sexual identity. That doesn't mean I'm safe from
future feelings of insecurity and loss of self-esteem. It happens at all
ages.

We are sexual creatures. Preening oneself before an encounter with our
environment is a compulsion. We establish communication, assert our
rightful place, and move ahead. Unfortunately, it can be that simple.

Usually, the only thing holding us back is an unwillingness to
participate in our social environment. Much of this hesitation spawns
from television commercials and magazine advertisements that portray
people as beautiful, seductive, and successful. These influences are
powerful and can easily prey on our insecurities.

Marriage has a defined calling with those of us who are disabled. It
calls on each of us to accept one another and live within its
constraints. It asks our spouses to accept an almost unacceptable
condition and embrace it with unconditional love. In retrospect, I
believe that this is a predicament that sweeps across every intimate
relationship. No one is truly different when it comes to affairs of the
heart.

We are one.

Flicka Dukes lives and works from her home near Creston. She is a former
publisher and editor of a newspaper that addressed issues surrounding
the elderly and people with disabilities. She is a scopist for Lake
County, home-schools her 16-year-old stepson, and continues to advocate
toward equality for all people.
----End of Article----
Forwarded by:
Dave Reynolds, Editor
Inclusion Daily Express
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http://www.inclusiondaily.com