Overview
An important, if not daunting message. Dr. Chris Donaghue urges us to move past social rules and gender roles to get back to sexual authenticity (and great sex).
Who should read it 👤
- People interested in exploring a more open sex life and learning what authenticity can look like.
- Anyone who wants to challenge their perception of what sexuality should be.
The book is not quite about how to achieve that, though. (I wouldn’t count the short section about online dating). Other books like This is Supposed to be Fun might be better reads. Rebel Love might also not be for you if you’re not interested in exploring beyond monogamy.
Notes & Takeaways đź“ť
The book is a call to return to authenticity, asking “how do you want your sexual life to look like?” It advocates moving from sexual shame and baseless limitations, to openness and acceptance. Whether that looks like more casual sex, embracing your desire for more in the bedroom, or moving from monogamy to monogamish, the book advocates for claiming your sexuality and desires.
Why? Because society and culture label certain acts as the ‘right’ way to have sex, marginalizing anyone outside that ‘normal’. For example, the idea that anal play means a man is homosexual, or someone who sleeps around more than usual is a sex addict. After all, who gets to decide what “too much” sex is?
By moving to authenticity (acknowledging what we want) and fostering communication (being clear about what we want with others), we can improve our relationships and our sex lives. If both (or more!) people are on the same page, we can focus on fostering relationships instead of ‘being right’.
Donaghue also talks about sex positivity—rebelling against rules and roles. as he puts it, “being sex-positive doesn’t mean you’re climbing inside the pants of everyone who looks at you twice (but if you are, that’s cool, too). It doesn’t mean saying yes every single time someone asks you out. It obviously doesn’t mean doing anything you aren’t genuinely comfortable with. All it means is that you’re sexually authentic and you support the same in others. You embrace your own wants, needs, and turn-ons—the genuine ones, not the ones you’re told you’re supposed to have.”
That said, it’s quite the grey area. We have all sorts of belief sources, from spirituality to culture to nurture. It can take a lot of introspection (and exploration if possible) to figure things out, as well as our true thoughts about our beliefs.
Thoughts & Opinions đź’
Donaghue’s writing is quite passionate, are there were times when I felt like openness and authenticity were treated as cure-alls. I feel like readers would benefit from a section about how social context—our fears, limiting beliefs, insecurities and where they come from—can hold us back from fuller relationships. To supplement, I recommend bell hooks’s The Will to Change and All About Love, which breaks down how patriarchal masculinity stops us from emotional openness and love.
Reactions
As I was reading the book, I noted some interesting feelings. I’d ask myself, “isn’t this just permission sleep around?” But then, isn’t that an arbitrary rule? Why do I believe that there’s something wrong with looking for casual sex and a fulfilling relationship at the same time?
It seems like this is Rebel Love at play: the willingness to re-examine your beliefs and limits to acknowledge what you really want, even if it’s scary for whatever reason. I can think of a number of fears, like “what will my parents think?” or “what would my (rather traditional) best-friend say?” if I admit I’d like more casual sex.
Porn & Sex Addiction
Donaghue states he does not believe in porn or sex addiction. This is where I feel the openness theme becomes overbearing and weakens the book. Instead of acknowledging that people have struggles with such material, especially in the context of their own relationships, the virtue of authenticity is thrown around and overused.
While I do agree that authenticity is the goal, there are many steps in between to acknowledge. For example, he states “For some people, happy, safe, fun sexuality means having a lot of sex with a lot of different people. For others, it means masturbating multiple times a day or watching hours of porn. Yet all these activities can cause someone to be labeled a sex addict. In my world, that’s completely wrong. In my world, sex addiction is absolutely not real… “Sex addict” is now a one-size-fits-all label that experts use to shame people who have more sex (or simply different sex) than what’s commonly considered “normal.” Different is not disordered, remember? If a partner has a higher sex drive than you do, or wants more sex or different types of sex than you feel comfortable with, the solution isn’t to just slap them with a “sex addict” label and bail. Having disparate sex drives, kinks, or sexual preferences is often an issue that can be mediated and worked out within a healthy relationship.”
It’s an interesting angle that I’m still thinking through. After all, even AASECT (The American Association of Sexuality Educators, Counselors and Therapists) does not acknowledge porn & sex addiction, stating “[the organization] does not find sufficient empirical evidence to support the classification of sex addiction or porn addiction as a mental health disorder, and does not find the sexual addiction training and treatment methods and educational pedagogies to be adequately informed by accurate human sexuality knowledge.”
In one section, Donaghue talks about working with a patient whose fiance discovers his ‘colorful’ porn collection. Sent in to be ‘fixed’, Donaghue instead assures his patient that everyone is entitled to a private sex life beyond their partner’s purview. What a rocky landscape! While I agree that our sexual tastes should not be controlled by our partners, the idea of a private sex life seems a bit rockier. What about material like OnlyFans and Instagram baddies, which bring an added element of interaction? Should those be judged as emotional cheating, or a private sex life?
Additionally, if our partner were to ask that we refrain from porn, what’s the line between respecting that and ourselves? Do we try to convince them that porn can be beneficial (which it can be), or accept? But then again, communication and getting on the same page is not always so clear. I think the fact that you’re interested in exploring and re-examining is the most important part. After all, we don’t stop growing or changing at any certain age or part of our lives.
Personal Experiences
As an NSFW creative, I’ve been exposed to much kinks and fetishes, so I would say I’m sex positive. Whatever floats your boat is fine, even if it’s not something I’m personally into. That said, the line between social shoulds and personal beliefs can feel like a grey area. I’d definitely love to have more sex! I think it’s great opportunity to figure out what you enjoy, and how you vibe with other people. Personally, I don’t want to limit sex to only when I’m in an exclusive relationship.
Conclusion
You can see how ramble-y I got towards the end. I didn’t expect this book review to become a personal sharing either, so it was interesting to see how the book got that out of me. You might want to pick it up for that reason!
Some guide questions I thought of:
- What are some beliefs you have about your sexual life? Statements like “I shouldn’t sleep around”, “Sex should only be between two people in a relationship” and “Hookups aren’t good” might be worth reinspecting.
- What do you want more of? What’s limiting your sexuality and intimacy? Which of your choices are motivated by fear instead of love?
- Growing up, what were the sexual ‘virtues’ and ‘vices’ your culture or family believed in? Do you agree with them?
Hope you liked the book review. Want to share your take on the topic? Send in your thoughts and opinions to Songbrd!
