How is Porn Really Influencing Women’s Sex Lives?
While porn use has historically been less taboo for men, it’s becoming increasingly easier for women to admit that they watch and enjoy it. Slowly the conversation about porn is catching up with the reality of its use and users. But what impact has the unprecedented accessibility of online porn had on the sex lives of women who have grown up with it?
The idea that porn could once only be accessed by buying a magazine off the top shelf of a newsagents or a video tape from a specialist store will soon seem like a joke. Now porn is a click or swipe away, often completely free, and has been for well over 20 years.
While porn use has historically been less taboo for men, it’s becoming increasingly easier for women to admit that they watch and enjoy it. Slowly the conversation about porn is catching up with the reality of its use and users. But what impact has the unprecedented accessibility of online porn had on the sex lives of women who have grown up with it?
Anyone who has been a teenager or young adult in the past 20 years will know that porn’s accessibility often isn’t accounted for in UK sex education. This can often lead to young people learning about sex from porn. As Vice notes, two recent reports, one from the government and another from the nonprofit Internet Matters found that children as young as 11 are learning about sex from porn.
Sex and relationship psychotherapist Kate Moyle says lack of education is a major issue. “The biggest problem I experience working with people is the gap in educating between what is sex and what is porn. Porn has its role or function. It’s designed to arouse. But the problem is that we didn’t educate young people on the difference between real life sex and pornography.”
But Moyle believes that the accessibility of porn could now be helping young people think critically about it. “I think younger people are naturally more aware because pornography is more present [and] more accessible, it’s a part of the conversation. So they almost can’t avoid some of the [more negative] stuff that goes with it.”
Molly, a woman in her 20s, feels porn has improved her sex life, but precisely because she knows it’s not real. “I have always been reassured by the knowledge that porn is a performance. As I am not a porn star, I don’t feel the pressure to put on an act or a show when having sex. If you’re doing it wrong, I’m not going to lie there and moan theatrically.”
The accessibility of porn was also something that had a positive impact for Hannah*, also a woman in her 20s, as a teen. She says: “I think that it’s impacted me in a good way because I’m bisexual and I don’t think I would have really realised that without porn.” However, she does feel a lack of porn literacy initially led to confusion about where her sexual desires were coming from, and that better sex education might have helped.
She explains: “My sex education was thorough from the protection point of view of consent. [But] LGBT stuff was sort of a passing comment and that made me explore it in my own time. If it was explored a bit more in school and discussed in an open and candid way, it would [have been] less me worrying, ‘oh my god it’s making me gay.’”
Even for Molly, who’s straight, the depictions of female pleasure that exist in porn helped her embrace her desires. “It helped me masturbate and become comfortable with my sexuality and body at a time when most of my friends were horrified by the thought.”
With individuals consuming it at a young age, divorced from the context that proper sex education might bring, porn can arguably contribute to a skewed idea of sex. Moyle says: “Historically particularly, pornography has been very male sexuality, male sexual desire-focused. I suppose designed with men in mind.” Much of mainstream porn can often be degrading of marginalised groups and conversations about consent, contraception, and protection from STIs are also still lacking.
There is evidence to suggest that the widespread use of porn is shaping modern sexual habits. One 2015 study suggested a link between its consumption and sexual aggression. A Guardian article from July this year, meanwhile, cited several experts who believe it is behind an increase in the popularity of choking. This isn’t a problem in itself, and choking can be a part of a healthy sex life, but crucially only when consensual. Unfortunately, because porn frequently doesn’t make consent explicit or show consent being discussed, it may be normalising non-consensual choking.
A survey conducted by BBC 5 Live this year found that more than 1 in 3 UK women have experienced unwanted acts of violence including slapping, gagging, choking, and spitting during sex. A spokesperson from The Centre For Women’s Justice told the BBC the research was evidence of a “growing pressure on young women to consent to violent, dangerous and demeaning acts.” Adding: “This is likely to be due to the widespread availability, normalisation and use of extreme pornography.” The findings bear out anecdotally, with two of the three women I spoke to having been choked by sexual partners without their consent.
Rebecca*, also a woman in her 20s, says of her experience: “I think that [my partner] internalised the whole women like being dominated – he fully dominated me, he was getting off on it so much to the point where he didn’t realise what he was doing. He just thought it was fine.”
She suspected her negative experience was shaped by the way in which women are often treated in mainstream porn, which was later confirmed by a conversation with that sexual partner. She tells me: “I spoke to him about it, I said I think you’ve watched too much porn. And he was like yeah I do, I think I’ve got an issue.”
When porn is discussed in the media, it’s often in relation to porn addiction. It’s still contested whether porn addiction is an addiction in its own right or a symptom of sex addiction. But it follows that the more accessible porn is the easier it is to watch too much of it, and in 2018, a Harley Street clinic said it had seen referrals for porn addiction soar in the previous six years. Addiction or not, Moyle does feel too much pornography can hamper sex lives.
She says: “I think the problem is where pornography use leaks into our sex lives. If we are masturbating and watching pornography, we can become so over stimulated with that we become reliant on it. Then sex with another person can feel more challenging. If you’re watching pornography and masturbating, you don’t have to worry about anyone else. When there’s someone else there we might feel more self-conscious, more vulnerable, and it can create a stronger sense of performance anxiety.”
This is something Rebecca experienced both in her own sex life and with the same sexual partner who choked her without her consent. She explains: “I could tell straight away by the way he was talking dirty and the things he was doing — it was like we were in a porno. At one point, he was like ‘I’m just imagining you in a threesome with two guys and they’re abusing your body’. The reason that I knew and I spotted it straight away was because I was with my ex boyfriend for a long time and there was a point in the relationship where it dried up and I was watching porn and watching quite a lot of it.”
“I thought ‘oh it’s fine, you know, it’s healthy.’ And then when we would have sex, I realised I was finding it harder and harder to be in the moment and come. I was thinking about the porn rather than being in the moment. I can understand how it gets into your brain and how sometimes people feel like they get more pleasure from porn than actual real life sex.”
Unfortunately misconceptions about who enjoys porn shape ideas about who can be affected by watching too much of it. The Internet Matters We Need To Talk About Pornography report shows parents are still more concerned about their sons becoming addicted to porn than their daughters. It’s also easy to see how stigma around women’s use and enjoyment of porn might stop them seeking help for any issues that arise around them watching it.
Accessibility to porn is only increasing. Even as a so-called digital native, Broadband was a new invention in my childhood, but today’s teens will likely never know anything other than WiFi. But sex education is slowly catching up. A new sex and relationships curriculum will be taught in schools in 2020, covering consent, contraception, the Internet, and LGBTQ sex and relationships.
Porn itself is also improving, as Moyle tells me: “I think we are beginning to move out of [male gaze porn]. People like Erica Lust, these more ethical or feminist porn producers are really changing things. I think it’s dramatically different.”
Meanwhile forms of porn are changing. Apps like female-founded Dipsea are reinventing erotica for the digital age with what they call “short and sexy audio stories” intended, per their website, to be feminist, relatable, and full of “enthusiastic consent”. They’re also fairly inclusive, with categories for queer and group sex situations.
But, as Hannah puts it, if general attitudes don’t change, the impact of these well-meaning new inventions will always be limited. “My whole experience with porn has been about shame and hiding it. An app might not work because I wouldn’t want people seeing it on my phone and that’s a problem in itself.”
*Some names have been changed.
Natural Cycles & The Reality Of Digital Contraception
Looking at the list of contraception available to women in the UK, it seems like there are loads of choices. Several varieties of both the single hormone or dual hormone pill, the patch, the injection, the hormonal or non-hormonal coil, the implant, male or female condoms, the diaphragm. But should you have migraines, or experience side-effects from hormonal contraceptive use, have a latex allergy, be reluctant or unable to go through an uncomfortable (at best) copper coil insertion, the list gets a lot shorter very quickly. This is where contraceptive apps like Natural Cycles come in.
Looking at the list of contraception available to women in the UK, it seems like there are loads of choices. Several varieties of both the single hormone or dual hormone pill, the patch, the injection, the hormonal or non-hormonal coil, the implant, male or female condoms, the diaphragm.
But should you have migraines, or experience side-effects from hormonal contraceptive use, have a latex allergy, be reluctant or unable to go through an uncomfortable (at best) copper coil insertion, the list gets a lot shorter very quickly. This is where contraceptive apps like Natural Cycles come in.
Natural Cycles promises women a high-tech means of preventing pregnancy that doesn't involve hormones, irritating condoms, or invasive procedures. It claims to use an algorithm based on daily temperature readings and other inputted data to help tell a woman when she's safe to have sex without protection (green days) and when she isn't (red days). It's the only app of its kind to be FDA-approved for use as contraception and was given the go-ahead by German authority Tüv Süd for use across the EU in 2017. As per the Natural Cycles website, the app claims to be 93% effective with standard use and 98% effective with perfect use, and it's rated 4.8 stars out of 5 on the Apple App store. It costs between £40 and £72 a year to use.
So far, so beguiling. Or at least it was until an article published in The Guardian in July last year sparked a backlash by reporting that a number of women had experienced unexpected pregnancies after using the app.
According to Natural Cycles' Facebook page, the app "all started with one woman," co-founder Dr. Elina Berglund, a particle physicist who was part of the team that discovered the Higgs boson. I spoke to Dr. Berglund about the impact of last year's backlash, why Natural Cycles continues to use controversial influencer marketing, and who its intended user really is.
In most heterosexual partnerships, contraception is still seen as the woman's responsibility. Trials of a male hormone-based contraceptive were memorably halted in 2016 when the men participating reported similar side effects to those women have been experiencing since the pill's creation. And per a recent study, funded by Natural Cycles, 65% of 25 to 34 year-old British women are using period tracker apps (where users are given information about their cycle based on data they input) as a method of contraception. If this is correct, the demand for alternatives to established forms of contraception is clear.
Berglund certainly believes that women need more choice. Per the Natural Cycles's Facebook page, it was the reason she created the app. Its reads: "Dr. Elina Berglund was looking for an effective, hormone-free method of birth control but none of the available options were right for her. So what did she do about it? Invented one that did work for her, that’s what." Berglund confirms this in her own words, saying: "I think women need to have easily accessible contraceptive methods that are effective and easy to use."
However, it's difficult to reconcile this wish with Natural Cycles' actuality. While the app does, in theory, enable women to use it as a contraceptive, it only does so on days when it has given them a green day. A red day means that it's not safe to have sex without other contraception. As Berglund notes: "The messier the data or the cycle, the more red days in general but the effectiveness stays the same." This means women who sometimes wake up with hangovers, have irregular sleep cycles, or simply forget to take their temperature as soon as they wake up (yes, that means before grabbing a glass of water or going to the loo) will be met with more red days.
Gynaecologist Dr. Anita Mitra, who writes under the name the Gynae Geek, shared her concerns about Natural Cycles in a blog post back in 2017. She wrote: "The app will work as contraception if it correctly calculates the day that you ovulate, and you either use a condom, or don’t have sex on the red days. I truly believe that it’s only really suitable as a contraceptive for women who would not be devastated if they did get pregnant."
When The Guardian spoke to Berglund's husband Raoul Scherwitzl, the other co-founder of Natural Cycles, in July 2018 about the issue around app users' unexpected pregnancies, he explained that the app's target user was actually women who were looking to get pregnant in the near future rather than those wishing to prevent pregnancy for the long term. Berglund told The Guardian earlier this year that experiencing this situation, in part, inspired the app's creation. The co-founders now have two children together.
Berglund tells me that, although Natural Cycles has "a strict requirement that the user has to be above 18 years old," the average age of users is actually around 30. "We know the typical user is a woman in a stable relationship [and] is considering maybe having children in a few years' time," Berglund explains.
In fact, Berglund cites the app's lack of effect on women's hormones as an upside because it may enable users to get pregnant more quickly after stopping using the app. "We've seen that our users really appreciate the fact that they can use the product both to prevent pregnancy and then also plan the pregnancy when the time is right. We see in our data that if you use Natural Cycles before you want to get pregnant [it] decreases time to pregnancy by 60% compared to if you use the pill before, because the woman then knows about her body, knows when she ovulates, and also the pill can sometimes delay [pregnancy]," Berglund explains.
Natural Cycles
Natural Cycles' use of influencer marketing was also criticised in the July 2018 Guardian article where it was reported that Instagram users received recommendations to try the product from bloggers they followed. I experienced this first hand when, in March 2018, I saw a post promoting the app from a fashion influencer I followed on Instagram at the time. I didn't, and still don't, fit the profile of Natural Cycle's professed target user, and yet I was targeted by their marketing.
So I'm surprised to hear that not only is Natural Cycles still using influencer marketing, but that they view it as a useful tool. "We do still use influencer marketing but we have a strict process on how to choose what influencer, what they need to say etc. In fact, we see influencer marketing as a way to do quite targeted marketing," Berglund tells me.
"The women are actually the most suitable for our product, compared to if you do like a TV commercial, then you reach all kinds of women. We do a background check — what is the average age of the reader, are they maybe in a relationship, and we also make sure that they always mention the effectiveness of Natural Cycles and that no contraception is 100% effective," she notes.
While marketing the app via influencers may make it easier to hone down targets, there are also less stringent rules around advertising through influencers than there are for more traditional methods, as legal news website Lexology notes. And the fact that influencer marketing is more targeted means wider conversations about the products featured are less likely to take place. It's hard to imagine there would have been such an uproar around Protein Worlds's notorious Beach Body Ready ads in 2015, for instance, had they not been on large posters and billboards in the London Underground.
I'd argue that some of Natural Cycles social media marketing remains questionable. For example, as per a recent Instagram post, they claim "the only side-effect of using Natural Cycles is getting to know your body." Reading this, I suppose you could say that an unintended pregnancy is a way of getting to know your body.
Natural Cycles has also been pulled up on misleading advertising in the past. In 2018, the UK's Advertising Standards Agency banned two paid for posts from the company, ruling that Natural Cycles must "not to state or imply that the app was a highly accurate method of contraception and to take care not to exaggerate the efficacy of the app in preventing pregnancies."
Influencer marketing operates a bit like a recommendation from a friend, which is problematic when it comes to something that is essentially a medical device. Take one recent sponsored post relating to Natural Cycles from an influencer with polycystic ovary syndrome, for example. It's not difficult to imagine how someone else with PCOS might see it and think, "if it works for her it might just work for me." Add to this the fact that, unlike other forms of contraception, you don't have to have a consultation with a medical professional before beginning to use Natural Cycles, it's easy to see how someone might switch to the contraception without ever discussing it with another person.
While those with PCOS can use the app, it's less useful due to the often irregular nature of their menstrual cycles. This is flagged in the post I saw, but not until the very bottom. When I ask Berglund about this she tells me: "It's not less effective for women for women with PCOS, however it may be less useable as a contraceptive method because if you have very irregular cycles like women with PCOS tend to have you end up getting quite a lot of red days. The effectiveness is the same but it will require quite a lot of condom usage."
One of the major headlines of The Guardian article that kickstarted the Natural Cycles backlash was the fact that, in January last year, "a major Swedish hospital reported that 37 of the 668 women who had sought an abortion there between September and December 2017 were using Natural Cycles as their sole birth control." This led to an investigation from the Swedish Medical Products Agency. As per Digital Health, the investigation cleared Natural Cycles, concluding that the number of pregnancies was in line with the app's claimed rate of effectiveness. Berglund says the result did not come as a surprise:
"Being a digital contraceptive method has the benefit of being on top of our data and real time tracking our pregnancy rates, because unfortunately, when when you do work with contraception, no contraception is 100% [effective]. There will always be unplanned pregnancies."
She continues: "As a digital contraception, we need to track and report on a monthly basis if the rate of unintended pregnancy is [in line] with the effectiveness. And this is also what we then reported to the Swedish Medical Products Agency. We never had any doubts in our product because we knew it performed as it should."
But despite her confidence, Berglund isn't unaffected by unplanned pregnancies which occur while using the app. "It was still a very tough time because it's always very tough for those individual women who do find themselves unintentionally pregnant. It is a big doubt about working in the space of contraception but innovation is very important. And we know that overall we do reduce unintended pregnancy," she explains.
But while this assertion may be factually correct, it's a very narrow truth. The app may reduce unintended pregnancy, but despite best efforts, it can’t cover a woman for every day of her cycle, it relies on a higher level of user discipline than remembering to take a tablet, which arguably make lapses more likely, and it isn't as useful for women with irregular cycles.
In a statement Berglund issued to Bustle, she added: “I created Natural Cycles with the belief that ANY woman — regardless of race, age, educational background — could benefit from having the ability to choose a non-hormonal birth control option in the form of Digital Birth Control. Birth control is not one fits all and choice is very important. This is something myself and my team passionately believe in and we are proud to have many diverse Natural Cycles members around the world who believe every woman should have the right to choose what works for them and their body.”
Natural Cycles isn't the only app of this kind, another contraceptive app called Dot is hot on its heels with similarly reassuring-sounding stats about effectiveness. That the fem-tech business is booming is clear, but whether it really has women's best interests at heart is less so.
That takes me back to Natural Cycles' Facebook description, where it says the app was essentially designed for Berglund. I think this is some of the app's most accurate marketing material. Berglund has succeeded in creating an app for herself — a high-achieving white woman in her 30s, in a stable relationship, who was looking to get pregnant in the near future — and women in similar circumstances. But for women who don’t find themselves in a position to manage an unwanted pregnancy, the app is probably not the best choice. As Dr Mitra wrote: "I certainly don’t criticise anyone who does want to use these apps as their contraception, but I do believe in helping people making informed decisions. Personally, for me it would not be reliable because I work nights, am frequently stressed and have terrible sleep hygiene." The question is whether the app’s top line marketing material makes that clear enough. As someone who was a recipient of their influencer marketing, I would argue not.
How To Admit You've Been Faking Orgasms
Faux moans, simulated sheet grabs, exaggerated eye rolls. Fake orgasms are unlikely to be anyone’s first choice, but it’s not difficult to see how you might find yourself in a situation where it feels unavoidable. Here’s how to change that.
Faux moans, simulated sheet grabs, exaggerated eye rolls. Fake orgasms are unlikely to be anyone’s first choice, but it’s not difficult to see how you might find yourself in a situation where it feels unavoidable.
It’s tempting to attribute the problem to a lack of skills among women’s partners, particularly if those partners happen to be members of the patriarchy. And that does come into it — the orgasm gap between men and women is real.
However, it isn’t the whole story, as although faking occurs most frequently among straight women (with 68% of those surveyed by Zava Med admitting to it), it’s also common in same-sex pairings too, with 59% of lesbians saying they’ve done it.
Lack of enjoyment is one obvious reason. One woman I spoke to, Sarah*, told me: "Whenever I've faked an orgasm it's mostly because I wasn't really enjoying the sex, and wanted it to get over quickly."
A lack of understanding around female sexual pleasure can be the cause of unenjoyable sex. It’s something Tierra, another woman who opened up to me, says has made her fake it in the past. "In my particular case, I would like to call it 'unaware of my own body'. Most visuals of sex are of men and men only reaching climax. [I would say] most men having sex don't know how to make a woman reach orgasm. So until she understands and feels orgasm, she doesn’t know [any] better."
Sex and relationship therapist Krystal Woodbridge echoes the idea that certain portrayals of pleasure can make it harder for women to have a fulfilling sex life. "It could well be that [people] just have a lot of assumptions about sex that are probably a bit faulty, that come from the culture around sex in society and what the media portrays about it."
Although you might think faking is more likely to happen with a new partner or in a casual relationship, studies show it’s actually most common in long-term relationships, although less so in marriage.
This suggests that emotional factors could be at play, which is something Sarah experienced. "I didn't stop [unfulfilling sex] midway either because I cared for the partner and felt affectionate towards [them]," she says. "If I was with a partner I didn't really care about, I wouldn't bother faking it."
If you find yourself faking and start to fear the impact it’s having on you or your relationship, then it could well be time to talk. For those concerned about their partner’s reaction, Woodbridge advises being mindful about how you broach the issue.
"I think it’s important for [people] to ask themselves if it’s potentially damaging [to the relationship] to say to their partner that they have been faking orgasms," she says. "If they make it about themselves instead, without sounding like a bombshell or as if they are blaming their partner, they perhaps wouldn’t need to overtly say they have been faking at all."
She explains: "You can give guidance without [saying] 'I've been faking it all this time' or 'What you're doing is not working'. So you're basically saying 'I've got this issue that I've noticed more and more recently and I’m finding it more difficult to have an orgasm, so I wondered what we could do to work on that'."
Woodbridge believes the problem can arise regardless of how skilled a partner is, so it’s crucial to feel able to discuss your individual preferences. However, faking can be caused by a lack of understanding of what those preferences actually are.
For this reason, it can be helpful to take some time alone to explore what you find pleasurable, so that you feel more relaxed during sexual encounters and better able to guide your partner on what works for you. Woodbridge explains: "An orgasm starts in the mind, so how [someone] becomes aroused in the first place is to do with their own ability to understand their pleasure."
"We’re [all] aroused in different ways, it could be looking at erotic pictures or literature or it could be listening to certain music," she suggests. "Then you can start thinking about physical sensations. So what actually feels nice. And then once you've worked that out you might feel you can then share that with your partner."
It’s also important to ask yourself some questions about the cause of your faking. If you’re finding it difficult to unpick, or feel it’s the result of internalised sexual shame or past/present trauma, you might want to seek help from a qualified therapist. The College of Sexual and Relationship Therapists (COSRT) website has a directory where you can find accredited psychosexual therapists in your area.
Woodbridge states: "It depends on how long they've had the problem and whether it’s been with every partner or just a current partner, whether they can have an orgasm on their own but not with a partner, [and] how they feel about their own body. When they went through puberty were they able to enjoy exploring their body or was that frowned upon?"
An understanding of sexual pleasure outside of penetration, particularly for straight couples, can also be helpful, as only around 18% of women achieve orgasm through intercourse alone. Changing the focus and making sex less goal (orgasm)-oriented and more about a general sense of pleasure could help take the pressure off. "Even people who can achieve orgasm don't always have an orgasm when they have sex and they don't always want to," Woodbridge adds.
For Olney, being able to discuss faking it with a partner has been a useful indicator of the health of the relationship. She says: "[In] my last two relationships I was aware enough of what I needed to discuss, what I would like, even if they were unaware of what my needs were. But the fact that the very last partner was not into making sure it was a mutually rewarding experience [meant] I just moved on."
"Things don’t change when conversations are not being had. The discussion helped my partners help me orgasm, or the lack of discussion allowed me to realise [it was time] to move on."
Woodbridge also notes that if your partner has a problem with you struggling to orgasm or not wanting to, that’s on them, not you. "If you genuinely are happy whether you have one or not then your partner shouldn't be particularly worried about it. If they are, that is probably to do with their own pride."
While the desire to fake can be a sign that there are deeper problems in the relationship, talking about it can provide an opportunity for greater intimacy and a more fulfilling sex life. In fact, 31% of women surveyed by Zava said their partners "decided to try harder" after they admitted they had been faking orgasms.
However this approach isn’t always successful, as Rashawn discovered: "I'd never had an orgasm before and I felt inadequate, like something was wrong with me. I told him I had never had one so he made it his mission to make me. He tried and tried and since I wanted to please him, I faked it."
And while Woodbridge says that a partner can help, she advises that establishing a more fulfilling sex life involves owning your pleasure first.
"[That way] you're taking responsibility for your own orgasm and you're taking responsibility for your own pleasure and your own experience," she says. "You have to start with yourself. You can bring your partner into it, but you have to start with yourself."
*Some names have been changed