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Dear Sasha, I was diagnosed with genital herpes just over two years ago. Since then, I’ve slept with a few people casually, always informing them that I have herpes and never expecting any of them to go down on me (and always using condoms if we had intercourse). One guy did go down on me but we “dated” for only a week. So, in over two years, I’ve only had someone go down on me once. For the last nine months, I’ve been in a serious relationship. We’re safe and always use condoms, but to be honest, I expect him to go down on me, and I’m sad that he won’t.
Yes, we talk about it and debate it and I completely see his (why risk it?) perspective, but I’ve gotten to the point that I can’t bring up the subject anymore because we always come to the same conclusion—it’s not going to happen. I get all fatalistic and feel devastated because it hurts to think that no one (not even if they’re in love with me) will ever go down on me again.
We’ve tried dental dams but it wasn’t pleasurable, maybe we didn’t know how to use them. Maybe I’m a just an immature baby (“But I don’t wanna use a dental dam!”). I’ve looked into suppressive drugs but I’m not sure I want to take them regularly. Do I have any other options or do I accept my fate?
-Anita
Dear Anita,
I know personally how an STI can play on one’s sexual self-esteem and certainly it doesn’t help that so many of us were raised in religious environments, which, even today, identify viruses as a direct punishment for depravity. Combine this with the fact that an STI may genuinely impact much needed or familiar intimacy and well, it can sure be depressing. I doubt I will ever forget being treated for HPV with a cast on my leg—both incidents the result of careless fun. Could I have been more pathetic?
But Anita, everyone is entitled to make and stick to his or her own rules around safer sex. I know how it must make you feel, not having someone you love go down on you, but on the other hand, your boyfriend’s honesty is really inspiring. How sexy is it that he cares about his health? He’s not turning this into some weird moral issue; he just doesn’t want herpes. It needn’t be the end of the story, though.
Have you looked into the Phoenix Association (torontoherpes.com), a support group that brings people with genital herpes together for kinship and resources? You’ve mentioned you’ve tried dental dams but have you tried really good dental dams? I’m talking about ones made by Glyde (sheerglydedams.com) and maybe attaching them with a garter belt or specially made harness (stockroom.com/The-Dental-Dam-Harness-P661.aspx). Don’t give up on them entirely; a good one might make all the difference.
For some people, the risk is worth it, and I guarantee that if you find your boyfriend’s boundaries impeding your sexual enjoyment and you choose to break up with him or add another lover to the mix, you will have no trouble finding a partner who will eat you out, maybe not until their face is covered in cold sores, but while you are in less infectious phases. You might also find someone who shares this common virus and is therefore not concerned about contracting it—and I hear support groups are good places to meet people—but if you want someone to bend their rules and compromise their health for your intimate enjoyment, then you must be at least willing to discuss meeting them halfway. Sometimes that will mean suppressive drugs and initially unwieldy safer sex apparel. As The Whole Lesbian Sex Book by Felice Newman so lesbionally puts it, “There’s nothing like bonding over your mutual commitment to making healthy decisions. Talking about your sexual histories, experimenting with safer sex accoutrements and laughing at your awkwardness can be very intimate.” I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I couldn’t agree more.
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