»Note from the editors: Feminist joy is an editorial column in which we celebrate our big or small joys and love files for ourselves and as a collective resistance. You can send your entries by e -mail ananya@feminisminindia.com
It is something to whisper the word sex with her friends that feels like planning a revolution.
“Did you do it?”
“How was it?”
“Wait … Is that normal?”
“I literally googled” you can get pregnant if he only … ” ‘
And suddenly the room breaks out of laughter, calming, horror stories, myths, giggles and so much honesty.
When I grew up, sex was always somewhere behind a wall – in code, rejected as “bad” or just never mentioned. The silence was loud and it made curiosity shameful. We skipped the chapter in biology lessons. There was no conversations at home, just a kind of collective look. Bollywood films taught us that kissing meant that the lights would touch dark and flowers – but nobody told us about approval, pleasure or what we should feel.
Source: Fii
As sex, sex was not even a full word – it was a syllable, followed by a silence. A look. A shift in body language. The channel changed. The air tense. The moment passed. And the lesson has been learned: this is not something you ask, talk or think about too much. Especially if you are a girl.
And in a world in which the responsibility of fulfilling the needs of men, especially sexually, falling on women, it is really difficult to think about it in a pleasant way. Our earliest exposure became through semi -reinforced film scenes, Adjingles, which suddenly became uncomfortable, and became silent about another school through “this girl”. Formal sex education? Do not exist. Talks with adults? Under no circumstances. The only thing that was louder than our curiosity was the social silence that surrounded it.
But this silence never had a chance against a group chat with my girls.
The first “sex talks” that we didn’t even have about sex – they were in jokes, memes or “This could be TMI, but …”, “I wanted to tell you something, but please do not judge any liability.
The thing is – when girls talk about sex, especially in cultures that systematically refuse the sexual authority, it is never just about sex. It is about consent, confusion, desire, guilt, security, awkwardness and, above all, – self -nature and pleasure.
The thing is – when girls talk about sex, especially in cultures that systematically refuse the sexual authority, it is never just about sex.
When boys talk about sex, they are told that it is natural. If we do girls, we are told that it is dangerous.
We’re talking about everything –
The funny:
Send a flirting text to the wrong group chat. I wonder if “performance fear” can also apply to you. About condoms, lubricants, orgasms and when it is big enough, ups!
Source: Fii
The terrible:
Didn’t it know if you really agreed, is it pain? Feel under pressure, yes to say if you wanted to say no. I wonder if this pain is a Uti, a guilt or both.
The joys:
The first time that it felt right felt comfortable in the right places. The moment you can see that you can feel joy. The support when your friends ‘yes, queen’ scream with a loud high five after finally unloading the guy who felt you small.
These conversations are full of feminist joy because they center us: our curiosity, our wishes, our hesitation and our healing.
They challenge a topic that historically monitored, hidden and defined for us. We don’t speak as a daughter or friends or “good girls”. We speak as people who try to understand ourselves outside the shame.
We don’t speak as a daughter or friends or “good girls”. We speak as people who try to understand ourselves outside the shame.
And it’s so funny because nobody prepared us for it. Nobody put us and said: “Hey, you could cry after your first time, and that’s okay, even if it wasn’t bad.” Or “Here you will find out how you can find out, which makes you happy instead of thinking about whether you looked hot.” Or even: “pleasure shouldn’t be painful.” Or just just: “Foreplay is a large part of the sex, you can research.”
We found it out through whispered chats, meme exchange, overwriting and late-day language notes that “please do not judge me, but …”
Source: Fii
This is the thing with a circle of women with whom you can speak. You recognize how not only you are in your experiences. You see that confusion is not a mistake. It is part of the process.
Sometimes we talked about the boys. In other cases, we talked about how our own bodies confused. How we would do as if we knew what we did, even if we were afraid. How we would feel guilty of wanting to want it – and then owe it not to want it. As we didn’t even know, we were allowed to talk about pleasure without sounding like a girl.
But every conversation broke away in this silence. Every common story made the topic a little less scary. Every ‘the same omg shely’ helped us to breathe a little easier.
It was not always deep or profound. Sometimes it was just chaotic. But it belonged to us. We didn’t need diagrams or ten steps to validate. We had each other. And it is so much fun to learn together-about body image, kinking, contraception, emotional work, gender, masturbation and the very real struggle, to find a non-evaluating gynecologist.
We even created a safe language. We would sex “tea” or “kya hua tha?” We had code names for swarms. We had emojis for risky texts or sexual texts, haha!
We even created a safe language. We would sex “tea” or “kya hua tha?” We had code names for swarms. We had emojis for risky texts or sexual texts, haha! We had backup plans, emergency texts and judgment-free.
We joked a podcast with the title ” “Sex-ed, you never gave us”– But to be honest we already had one. Our only ran on language notes, spontaneous confessions from 1 a.m. and emotional check-ins after bad decisions.
Source: Fii
When I look back, I notice: these were not just conversations. They were resistance files. We have reclaimed our stories. We built our own knowledge systems. We healed ourselves because shame grows in silence and we are silent.
We were loud.
We were curious.
We were sometimes wrong.
But we learned.
And that’s not small.
This is not silly.
This is radical.
We didn’t know that we would start a revolution. But we did it.
And if you ask me, feminism also lives: In girls who talk about sex without shame, reject silence, select the connection and dare to say it loudly.
And one day we may speak without the ‘shhh …’, but until then we whisper. And we laugh. And we love. And that’s joy. This is freedom for us!
Anushka Bharadwaj is a graduate of journalism at SCMC Pune. She is an intersectional feminist with deep interest in gender, caste, politics and mental health. If she does not write or reads, she is usually lost in poetry, dances to her favorite songs or discovers new music – always thinking about the world after stories.