I have a new article up at Daily Life commenting on a piece by Jane Pratt about taking your child to a sex shop and why combining breezy nonchalance towards sexuality with breezy nonchalance towards motherhood might be more difficult than Pratt imagined.
As happens sometimes with publishing, the article ended up being published some weeks after the piece it was commenting on was published. When this occurs there is a sudden need to re-jig an article and make it more general and less specific. In this case, I think the decision to take away all that context makes it difficult to actually decipher my thinking from the article. But then, writers are supposed to disagree with their editors, aren’t they, because we get so attached to our words, even the out-of-date ones, actually, especially the out-of-date ones. Anyway, I love editors and the very hard work they do to make this publishing thing work, and there is a new article of mine out there.
There was a time when simply visiting a sex shop would have made for bad mother confessional fodder, but my generation is beyond all that. Our sexuality is, in some ways, part of our public identity – its intimacy somewhat neutralised by close ties with fashion and even health.
Some women, such as Pratt, may see their sexuality as requiring little more privacy than discussions of their exercise regime.
On occasion, I am one of those women. But a breezy nonchalance towards sexuality is difficult to combine with a breezy nonchalance towards motherhood, though both are now individually celebrated.