Is Lesbian Sex Even Real? My Gyno Doesn’t Seem to Think So…
the sexual misadventures of a woman who sleeps with women.
“Are you sexually active?” He asks, fingertips clacking against the keyboard of his desktop computer.
Oh, boy. Here we go.
“Yes, I am.”
3…
“Are you trying to conceive?”
“No, sir.”
2…
“Condoms or birth control?”
“Neither.”
1…
The typing stops abruptly. Pin drop silence.
Bingo.
“Neither?”
Eyes dart towards me over thick-rimmed glasses.
I shake my head.
“So if you’re sexually active but not using contraception, how are you preventing accidental pregnancy?”
“By being a lesbian, sir.”
Navigating sexual health as a gay woman is almost laughable.
Whether it’s a routine check-up with your gynaecologist or a trip to your local GUM clinic, chances are, it’s going to be the topic of your next get-together with friends.
A routine gynaecology appointment here in Spain is sort of like an annual vehicle inspection. Minus getting your engine revved, of course.
Assuming you’re free of any notable issues and not pregnant, you make an appointment once a year for a full check-up, which consists of:
A consultation with the doctor
A smear test
A vaginal/cervical examination
A vaginal/cervical ultrasound
A breast examination
A breast ultrasound
A “full” STD test (we’ll get to the reason for the quotation marks in a minute.)
So you go in, say a quick hi hello, answer some questions about your grown-up affairs and within 10 minutes your underwear’s on the floor, your legs are up in stirrups, and there’s someone positioned between them staring into the abyss with the help of a forehead flashlight.
And all this without so much as a first date.
Being legs akimbo in the face of a stranger might seem embarrassing to some, however, the examination part is not the bit that gets me.
It’s the consultation.
I was allocated a new gynaecologist after moving recently. He was a fairly pleasant guy, early sixties or so, originally from Venezuela, undeniably Catholic. He had no access to my past medical records and we’d, therefore, have to start from scratch.
This resulted in us having an in-depth chat as I filled him in on my medical history of the past 20-odd years. An excerpt of which you just read at the start of this article.
For the most part, it was easy — remembering the dates of past examinations, menstrual patterns, anomalies, if any, and so on.
But one thing I’ve noticed, especially when it comes to sexual health, is that:
Lesbian sex is not really considered a thing.
You can see the energy of the doctor shift as soon as you inform them that your sexual encounters don’t involve men. It’s like they can just go ahead and tear the final page off their clipboard and toss it in the trash. Maybe put the lid back on the jar of free condoms sitting on their desk.
It’s actually kind of invalidating. And you notice this because as soon as they realise that it’s a women-only activity, the focus shifts from sexual health and pregnancy to cancer and menopause.
Yippee.
I request an STD test after every relationship/sexual encounter.
It’s just something I’ve always done for peace of mind and to meet my responsible adult quota.
In order to be allocated a test, you have to fill in a digital questionnaire.
It asks you questions about your sexual orientation, relationship status, whether you take intravenous drugs, whether you sleep with men, women, or both, and so on.
Then, once it judges, sorry, analyses your lifestyle, it will offer you a test according to your answers.
I remember the first time I filled one out. I used a fake name just in case the results somehow got posted to my house and opened by one of my parents. Some diseases are curable but the embarrassment of Mum and Dad knowing I’m sexually active? No way, José.
After selecting the appropriate answers, I waited for the system to present me with my test:
Chlamydia and gonorrhoea.
Cue the womp womp sound.
That’s it? That was all they were going to test me for?
I mean I’m almost certain—based on my answers—that my profile read something like “monogamous, hypochondriac lesbian who calls her mother twice a day, goes to bed at 10pm, and sings nursery rhymes to her cat.”
But still, it seemed a bit… basic.
Brightly-coloured graphics promoting all sorts of clinical analyses adorn the clinic’s website — enough options to rival the menu of The Cheesecake Factory. There were swab tests for any disease you can think of and blood tests for HIV and herpes.
However, I soon realised that that’s all they typically test lesbians for. Just chlamydia and gonorrhoea.
It was only when I repeated the questionnaire a few times with different answers that this became apparent.
When I said that I slept with only women but was non-monogamous I got the same results — a basic test for two diseases. The same thing when I said that I slept with only women but occasionally engaged in drug-related activity.
However, it was only when I said that I slept with both men and women that I was offered tests for Hepatitis B/C, Syphilis, Herpes, and HIV.
Odd, considering that people with those conditions are not exclusively men.
So why is lesbian sex regarded as a mainly risk-free activity?
Not to get all death-to-the-patriarchy on you, but I genuinely believe it’s because there are no men involved. It has to be.
Why do I think this?
Well, because lesbian sex is the only type of sex that isn’t typically associated with protection.
Think about it: when was the last time you conflated the two ideas? It’s not displayed in porn, it’s not portrayed in film, TV, or music.
Consider the average rom-com:
You often see parents uncovering foil wrappers in their teenager’s bedroom and freaking out. Are those teenagers ever lesbians? No.
You see students sliding condoms over bananas in sex ed class at school. But are they ever filmed unwrapping dental dams or female condoms? No.
We just don’t ordinarily associate lesbianism with responsible sexual health.
According to this Australian study, fewer than 10% of women had ever used a dental dam with their same-sex partner.
While you find condoms widely available in supermarkets and pharmacies and vending machines throughout, you seldom find the same provision of protection for penis-free intercourse.
We lesbians don’t commonly use phrases such as “bareback” or “rawdogging”, or base a lot of humour off that concept. Out of these 31 rap songs that reference condoms, dental dams don’t feature in a single one of them.
Hell, a lot of people (lesbians included) don’t even know what a dental dam or female condom looks like.
If women engaged in unprotected sex with men as much as women do with each other, the sexual health horizon would look completely different. Of course, the risk of pregnancy is nullified between two females, but that doesn’t mean the risk of disease is. Far from it.
What’s with the invalidation of lesbian sex?
On a social level, this is nothing new. Lesbian sex is grossly misrepresented by the adult entertainment industry. It’s manipulated to appeal to the male gaze as opposed to being an accurate reflection of typical practices. Lesbian pornography is to sex what lucha libre is to fisticuffs — over the top, unrealistic, and choreographed to oblivion.
When compared to sex involving men, lesbian sex is commonly understood to just be “extended foreplay”. An amalgamation of warm-up activities to make up for the devastating lack of penis, poor dears. A lot of people don’t consider it sex at all.
I’ve heard monogamous men say that their girlfriend sleeping with another woman wouldn’t constitute cheating.
In fact, the very concept of virginity rides on penile involvement, which is what makes virginity a confusing topic for WLW.
Historically, lesbianism was portrayed as an intensified version of “gals being pals” — written off as two women just being close friends and sharing a sisterly intimacy despite all evidence indicating a romantic and/or sexual relationship between them.
Even today, in countries such as Nigeria where homosexuality is punishable by death, that practice is extended to men only. Women found to be engaging in same-sex relations are not considered to be offenders to the same degree, and, therefore, will get off with lesser punishment.
So, in that sense, the invalidation of lesbian sex is quite literally a matter of life and death.
But it’s strange, I will say, to engage in something that so many other people deem illegitimate or even non-existent. This must be how Bitcoin fanatics or people with imaginary friends feel.
The lesbian experience is all but dull, especially when it comes to our sexuality.
Thanks to my first test experience, and my aversion to being denied access to the full spectrum of analyses, my local GUM clinic now has me on record as a sexually fluid swinger with a penchant for narcotics and a sexual appetite to rival Julio Iglesias.
Meanwhile, it’s 9:33 pm, I’m crocheting a coaster, I haven’t been on a date since 1976, and I’m running late for bed.
Talk about spinning a yarn.
Thank you very much for reading! If you have any questions or comments, please feel free to leave them below.
If you enjoyed this read and are feeling generous, please consider buying me a coffee as a token of your appreciation. I will send you positive vibes with every single sip. ☕🌸
© 2025 Natalie S. Ohio. All rights reserved.
My GP put me down as Asexual in my notes even though I told him I was lesbian.
I later found out when my notes were left on the screen and the nurse left the room for a moment.
Outrageous.
This is something that needs to be talked about way more! I no longer consider myself a lesbian (trans man), but in American schools good luck learning anything about dental dams and women’s condoms. Never mind all of the possibilities beyond penile-vaginal intercourse. I go to a very queer friendly clinic, so fortunately they’re well versed in how to provide appropriate healthcare to all - but I wouldn’t call that the norm.
Another layer to this challenge in lesbian healthcare and the nonchalance about sexual health is the exclusion of transgender women (and intersex women, but I don’t know enough to speak on that and only want to touch on this lightly myself as a trans man). Whether people don’t consider them to be “true” lesbians or forget about them entirely is another layer in and of itself.
Women can also have penises and/or testes. They might be able to impregnate their partner. They may need to use “standard” condoms. Cis experiences are valued and irreplaceable, but in this day and age the political climate is saying anti-trans is the “necessary” thing to be, so it feels more important than ever to not forget these lesbians and how it might influence WLW culture.
I don’t mean this to undermine your experiences or the popular response healthcare workers may have toward lesbians so I really do hope it doesn’t come off that way! This feels like an important bridge to connect and if any trans women want to share their experiences, then they don’t have to break the ice.