At least, I’m pretty sure. This should be a no-brainer. How is there any confusion as to whether or not someone has had an orgasm? It’s sort of a yes or no question, right? Twenty-one-year-old Liz (my pseudonym) has a similar predicament. Like most women, she derives pleasure from sexual contact with her partner. At some point, she may or may not have had her big moment, but she honestly cannot tell for sure.
I’ve read descriptions of the “big O” ranging from “A cosmic connection with your partner, God and Stephen Hawking,” to “Feeling like you’re about to sneeze.” This ambiguity can make it difficult for women to decipher whether they’ve truly finished. Most often it’s not accompanied by a rush of bodily fluids and a feeling of profound dejection immediately after, like the male sex.
This confusion can leave women feeling unsatisfied or even resentful for not having what people claim is that most important part about sex. Thankfully, there’s an abundance of articles guaranteeing women and their partners failproof ways to achieve an orgasm, through certain sex positions or oral sex tips. There are even articles detailing how to have a “really good orgasm,” but let’s take one thing at a time. The only problem is, they’re full of it.
In the wake of the #MeToo movement, the conversation has shifted, citing the general lack of communication between heterosexual couples as a reason for limited sexual satisfaction. I would argue that this generalization undermines the couples that are able to express their desires and dislikes with words, like adults. A lack of communication isn’t always the reason behind the inability to orgasm. Sometimes it’s strictly biology.
Anorgasmia is a legitimate medical condition that is experienced by both men and women. According to the Mayo Clinic, there are a variety of factors that can cause this permanent or semipermanent inability to orgasm, including previous genital surgeries, medications like antidepressants or antihistamines and medical illnesses that can affect the sexual response cycle or brain, which include diabetes and multiple sclerosis.
The seemingly ubiquitous nature of the orgasm is sold by pop culture as a necessary part of sex. If you’re not coming, you might as well be going. But statistics show that orgasms may not be as common as we think. According to Elisabeth Lloyd in her book “The Case of the Female Orgasm,” in which she analyzes more than 33 studies over 80 years, 5 percent of women are unable to orgasm at all during intercourse, with only 20 percent occasionally being able to orgasm.
Although an orgasm gap exists between men and women, the issue is more publicized for women. In a review paper for the journal “Medicine Today,” Australian physician Chris McMahon speculates that 7 to 11 percent of men are affected by delayed ejaculation and anejaculation. McMahon writes, “Delayed ejaculation and anejaculation are probably the least common, least studied, and least understood of the male sexual dysfunctions.” The wide and speculated range of men with this problem demonstrates the need to popularize the issue.
For women, the inability to orgasm is classified under female sexual dysfunction. But if if three out of four of us are affected, can’t we just call it the norm? The only reason it should be classified as dysfunction is if it takes a toll on our sex lives by making us feel angry, resentful or constantly comparing ourselves to our seemingly more satisfied friends.
People used to look at Liz like she had two heads when she told them she had never orgasmed during her four-year tenure being sexually active. They would self-righteously blame Liz for being unable to focus or her partner for being unconcerned with her pleasure. Knowing both accusations were false, she resisted the temptation to internalize these judgements.
Then one morning, stimulated through both her partner and a Rabbit vibrator, she orgasmed! (Or at least she thinks she did). It took time, patience and the ability to know that it doesn’t always happen. So when two characters on television come simultaneously during intercourse, Liz knows that the directors cannot show 40 minutes of combined foreplay and intercourse in a 60-minute run time, although she’d love to see them try.
Kristen DiPietra is a senior double-majoring in English and human development.