The Accidental Columnist: We need to shake off the stigma of anal sex and bottoming

In 2016, I was on a bus of roughly 80 LGBTQIA+ students headed to Cork. We were attending Pink Training, the largest LGBTQIA+ training weekend in Europe. I had never been to Pink Training before but all of the folks who had been gave it a lot of hype.

“You’ll get to meet so many people!”

“It’s a great time for hooking up with people from the other colleges.”

“Sure everyone is plastered all weekend stumbling into the workshops.”

Don’t get me wrong, the prospect of being in this ephemeral sex haven was exciting. But it was also nerve-racking. What are the rules? How do people start to hook up? Do some people not even bother? How do you know what ‘role’ you play? What about all of these workshops people keep talking about?

At this point, I had fooled around with guys (and a handful of girls) but I had never had any penetrative sex. I’d heard about it a ton. I’d seen it in porn. I’d even watched feminist sex educators talk about it, but would that prepare me for the reality? Did I even want to have sex with anyone?

It all started with a workshop: HIV 101, delivered by Robbie Lawlor. Robbie spoke candidly about his experience being diagnosed with HIV and how this was challenging for him. It was an incredibly eye-opening session where I learned about PrEP, U=U, and the realities of living with HIV.

As Pink Training went on, I got to attend many other workshops. Trans 101, Self-Care, and even Introduction to Polyamory. My worldview expanded more in those three days than in the five years prior.

One thing that kept ringing in my head was this: A lot of people coming to this weekend are talking about hooking up and having sex, but there isn’t a workshop on bottoming – why?

How do you douche? What are the cornerstones of good and bad bottoming experiences? What lube should people use? What about pain?

Even in a space as progressive as Pink Training, I found the shame and stigma on anal sex – particularly on being the bottom in anal sex – persisted. I thought that was an opportunity wasted. No one was willing to speak openly about bottoming. Even those who did bottom felt ashamed to admit it. It was this pseudo-closet that people were still stuck in.

This is a perfect example of how nefarious and pervasive homophobia is. You can be in a space where LGBTQIA+ people are the majority, where so many people are focused on hook-ups, and still, bottoming is an off-limits conversation. It is ‘too submissive’ and ‘too gay’.

Eventually, I had enough. I began delivering a Bottoming 101 workshop at Pink Training two years later. It’s something I’m proud to have done. I’ve gone on to deliver this workshop at University of Galway, Dublin City University, Dundalk Institute of Technology, Maynooth University and more.

Bottoming shouldn’t be shameful. People should be able to explore whether it’s right for them in an authentic way. We should also challenge these ridiculous ideas that how you look, behave or sound are deterministic of whether you ‘are a bottom’.

Even the idea of ‘being a bottom’ is flawed. I know very few people who assume one strict sex role and never deviate from it. We’ve all got preferences but these can also shift over time.

If we don’t talk about how to try bottoming, why you might enjoy it, and ways to maximise pleasure, how will you ever know?

To hell with the shame, I say! There should be Bottoming 101 workshops in every university, open to everyone. I’ll gladly be the one to do them.

Do you struggle to talk openly about sex? Learn to shake off the stigma in our masterclass with expert educator Grace Alice Ó Sé.