You know what would help? Seeing someone on TV who has a butt like mine and is the smart, classy, desirable character and not the goofy friend. Reading a profile of a female C-level executive that doesn’t mention her hair. Reading blog posts by women at tech or sci-fi conventions that don’t make a single mention of sexual harassment. Seeing a female comic book character who actually gets to wear armor on the parts of her that need armoring. Never again hearing the word “anorexic” if it’s not referring to an actual medical condition. Never again seeing thong underwear sold in the children’s department. Putting on a short skirt on a hot day and walking outside confident that I won’t have to suffer any abusive commentary. And then going to a feminist blog to read about body image without worrying that some random guy is going to backhandedly criticize my body because in his unsolicited opinion, my breasts are just too big to be attractive.

The reality of what women, even feminists, find pleasurable is not always politically correct. Sexuality is not neat and clean. I have talked to many feminist women who struggle to balance what really happens behind closed doors and what they feel the bedroom politics of a “good feminist” should be. Enjoying BDSM, strap-on sex and sex toys, genderplay, rape and incest taboo, mainstream pornography, and other “deviant” sexual taboos with a consensual partner does not make a person a “bad feminist” or a hypocrite. To the contrary, feminism is what gave me permission to love sex, with myself and with others, to embrace my sexual orientation, and find out what turns me on. Pro-sex feminism argues that recognizing the role of fantasy in sexual arousal and coming out of shame about sexual desires opens the door to a more frank and honest discussion about women’s bodies, consent, and safer sex. And that leads to better, safer sex that encourages communication and complete, enthusiastic consent to sex that is fulfilling and healthy. How is that not feminist?