A funeral for the term sexual "performance"
Solo shows are rough, especially in bed
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This is a weekly newsletter from me, Dani Faith Leonard , a comedy writer, film producer, and performer. It’s an extension of the live comedy show ADULT SEX ED that I’ve hosted since 2018. The show is about plugging the holes in our education as adults, so I’ll be doing just that (if you want to know more about this newsletter, here’s a description on substack).
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Dani
I was recording an episode of a future Adult Sex Ed podcast (stay tuned!) and my guest, one of the most hilarious comedians working today, told a story about “performance anxiety” when he was in high school. When he couldn’t get a boner, he brought himself to a urologist and hilarity ensued. But this made me think about a word that truly irks me: “performance.”
We hear it everywhere: When I tell my girlfriends about a new man in my life, they’ll ask about his “performance” in bed. The older lady in the boner commercial says, “My husband’s performance isn’t what it used to be.” There are countless drugs marketed to help with sexual “performance,” when what they actually mean is sexual function. This leads me to an important question: Is sex a performance?
According to most dictionaries, there are a few definitions for the word performance:
An instance of performing a play, piece of music, etc., in front of an audience
The action or process of carrying out or accomplishing an action, task, or function.
If we take the first definition to heart, then a performance usually involves an audience. If we happen to be talking about a man’s “performance,” are women merely an audience at this solo show? Or does the other partner put on a performance of their own at the same time, like two side by side monologues that both parties hopefully enjoy? Also, performances in art are meant to be critiqued, celebrated, awarded, hated, and sometimes all of the above. Is Peter Travers hiding behind my headboard? Are the old men from The Muppets, Statler and Waldorf, sitting in the rafters, ready to shout that I’ve missed a spot shaving?
Not to mention that we tend to judge sexual “performance” by a few metrics, including how long it was sustained. Have you ever seen a solo show that has gone on too long? Most of them do! I love Mike Birbiglia’s work, but I don’t want a one-man-show in bed. Even worse, when you have a sense that you’re not even the intended audience, but that your partner has one in mind. You’re making imaginary porn whether you like it or not, as he high fives his friends.
If the second definition tickles your fancy, then when we talk about someone’s “performance,” we’re reducing sex to two individuals who are accomplishing a task. Completing their biological function. Checking a box on the to-do list. How booooooring. Just like using the first definition, it’s not a collaborative act, but rather two individual performances coming together.
I want sex to be an artful, sweaty collaboration, the leader sometimes undetectable. At the very least, not a monologue.
When people hear the term “performance enhancing drugs,” we often think about athletes taking banned substances to prolong a career or break elusive records. But we also think about viagra and other drugs that will help men with their “performance.” Sex isn’t the Super Bowl and erectile dysfunction isn’t the boning yips. The continued use of the term “performance” puts so much excess pressure around sex, and no doubt helps to sell these drugs, which is big money. ED and the inability to experience orgasm often are relegated to the umbrella of “performance anxiety,” a term not only limited to men. There is even a term for letting the inner critic to come out during the act: “Spectatoring.”
I think words matter, not just because I’m a writer, but our understanding and judgement of the world (and what sex is) tends to be limited by our vocabulary. So let’s retire the term “performance.” Bury it, come up with something better.
Sexual “performance”—R.I.P.
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