I’m Tired of Feeling Bad About Genuinely Liking Anal Sex

There are plenty of reasons a woman might feel guilty about enjoying it. When Teen Vogue published a piece titled “Anal Sex: What You Need to Know” in 2018, the backlash was swift. Although writer and NYC-based sex educator Gigi Engle (who, full disclosure, is a Glamour contributor) wasn’t suggesting girls run out and have anal sex—merely introducing it as an option, with information on how to do it safely—there were some alarmingly conservative, potentially homophobia-tinged responses. It didn’t take long for the hashtag #pullteenvogue to make its way onto Twitter, or for articles and videos to pop up condemning the magazine for what ultimately should have been a conversation starter and a healthy eye-opener.

“Much stigma exists around anal sex, but for some women it is their arousal and favored erogenous zone,” explains Clarissa Silva, behavioral scientist and author of the relationship blog You're Just a Dumbass. “For women who know that they like anal and express it, we should [remind her] why she shouldn’t be shamed. She is simply making a decision for herself that she is interested in having better sex.”

And despite the alarmism, women who have anal are slowly but surely making their way into mainstream narratives. Lars von Trier’s 2012 film Nymphomaniac was the rare theatrical release that included anal sex (actually, there wasn’t much it didn’t include, sexually speaking), which seemed like a small but important step. Then, in 2014, both The Mindy Project and Broad City had episodes about the act. In 2015’s I Smile Back, Sarah Silverman’s character has anal while cheating on her husband. This kind of exposure just solidifies that anal is a sex move that people are engaging in, even if it’s still hard to talk about it sometimes.

With this in mind, I have been suggesting it more on my own accord to get more comfortable with the fact that I like it. My partner and I did it the third time we slept together, in fact, because it was important to me that I fully embrace my sexuality, especially the parts I was once ashamed of and which still remain taboo by society’s standards. I wanted to be the one who initiated it, thereby owning both the act and the fact that I enjoyed it. I’m starting to understand now that I shouldn’t allow archaic thoughts about how a woman should have sex (which typically means vaginal only), or the narrow-minded thinking of people who condemn it, to take up space in my mind.

While I don’t need other people or pop culture to validate my feelings on the matter, it does help in some ways to feel a sense of solidarity. It forces us to realize that human sexuality is complicated and there’s no “right” way to be aroused or to get off. Similarly, not being into anal sex doesn’t make you a prude or somehow less sexually adventurous.

It’s definitely not for everyone, but for those of us who do enjoy it, for far too long it felt like it needed to be a secret. Now I know how ridiculous a notion that is. A woman’s sexual proclivities don’t define her—knowing what you want is all that really matters.

Amanda Chatel is a sex and relationships writer splitting her time between New York City and Paris. Follow her at @angrychatel.