We Do Not Smut Shame

No guilt in pleasure

The first time I encountered the genre of novel known as Romance, I was in 7th grade. Those of us who had choir but not band had a study hall twice a week. It was in this study hall that I met one of my Ride or Dies for the first time, Sacheen. This was unfortunate for the boy she was dating at the time, as it was in this study hall that I was convinced to break up with him for her (I didn’t need much convincing, I was a get-it-done sort of person). It was also in this “class” that a few girls brought in — and passed around — their mothers’ romance novels.

I was unable to contribute to this cornucopia of salacious literature, because MY mother either didn’t have any books like this, or hid them. As is often the case in middle school, my education came from my friends. Don’t get me wrong, my mom was great about imparting information about my body and what it might do, and what adults might get up to when they “loved each other very much,” but she did not tell me about men who swept up damsels in distress and made them feel things in their nether regions. Surprising, I know.

There were new books brought in most weeks, with the “good parts” marked with clips or bookmarks or dog-eared pages. We’d pass them around to each other, blushing and giggling. We didn’t discuss the scenes we were reading, so I can’t speak to how these readings affected the other girls. All I know is that I felt like my world grew a little larger, and that this heretofore unknown feeling of titillation was fascinating and fun.

Honestly, there are worse ways for young women (and men) to learn about the acts of sex. Most of the stories I encountered were focused on female pleasure and fantasy. Even in the books that were in the “bodice-ripper” flavor were still ultimately about making a woman feel good about her sexuality — shame and violence were not the overarching themes. The ripping of bodices was less about force and more about desire — mutual desire — and I was into it.

Why am I thinking about Study Hall Smut at this particular moment in time? Well, I’ve spent the summer working my way through Darynda Jones’s Charley Davidson series. Believe it or not, I’m on the very last book out of 13! I have been listening to them, which is a treat because they are read by my favorite audiobook narrator, Lorelei King. It’s in the fantasy genre, with the main character being a human but also the Grim Reaper. Besides being filled with angels and demons, Jones’s writing is humorous and heartfelt, so I’m giggling along with characters to whom I’ve grown quite attached. And obviously, every once in a while, there’s some hot hot action.

Graphic sex in book form is not for everyone, I’ll grant you. In addition, those who are fine with characters getting it on while reading a book with their eyeballs might be squeamish about it happening in their earholes (i.e. audiobook). I will confess that by the 10th or 11th book, I contemplated skipping the sex scenes simply because it was the same couple the whole book, and the storyline was way more exciting than the (admittedly hot) sex.

As we all very well know (even if we don’t acknowledge it), female sexual arousal is still stigmatized in our culture. While worlds better than it was in previous decades, I’m still hearing slut-shaming language in the world. It is expected that men will have multiple sexual partners in their lives, and that they will watch pornography as soon as they figure out how to search it up on the internet. The majority of that porn is still misogynistic and sexist, and not created for the empowerment of women. (There is a lot more for women than there used to be — you just have to look for it!) The Romance literary world, however, is allllll about us.

I’m now realizing that I may have done my daughter a disservice by not introducing her to romance novels. I wonder if she’s found them on her own, or with help from friends, as her mother did? I’m guessing I’ll find out as soon as she reads this… possibly very loudly. Can you hear her now? Moooooooooom oh my god why did you have to mention me in THIS one HOW EMBARRASSING!!!

Thanks for reading.

Love, Susie