Hi horny readers! Thank you so, so much for reading the ADULT SEX ED newsletter.
New here? Adult Sex Ed comedically challenges why we think what we think about sex. I’m Dani Faith Leonard, a filmmaker, comedy writer, and performer. In 2018, I started a comedy show called Adult Sex Ed and launched this newsletter in 2023. Each week, I take a fun deep dive into a topic that I’ve been researching. Ready to plug the holes in your education? Okay, let’s go!
Late Monday morning, my phone was buzzing with substack alerts. I was getting a few new subscribers at once, in addition to another bunch who subscribed over the weekend. The last one stuck out to me—it was a DOGE tip line of sorts, with an official email address linked to the DOGE congressional caucus (that’s a thing?). A few of the others were also government email addresses. Later that evening, I saw a post on instagram from a sex educator that this is happening to other people with newsletter lists. The rumor is that the government is starting to follow people who work in “DEI,” which actually means diversity, equity, and inclusion, but is a stand-in for anything the far right wants people to be scared of.
I don’t know if the added subscribers were a silly prank or a stupid scare tactic, but I do know that it’s soooooo lame. If there’s anything I know about malignant narcissists, it’s that they love to be the villain in your story, so I removed the emails, told a few people about it, and moved right along (for now). I’m not afraid of these dweebs, but I’m sad for others who rightfully are. I’m a filmmaker and promoting inclusion behind the scenes is important to me (it always has been). I have a diverse friend group in every sense. I make the kind of comedy and film projects that they would hate, the kind that ask good questions and encourage critical thinking. But there’s nothing that I do that’s illegal.
I think I removed all of those silly emails, but just in case let’s talk about THE DISCOVERY OF THE CLITORIS, so these dorks might stand a chance at finding one.
When I say “discovering the clitoris,” I mean that in a medical sense. We’ve always known where our fun buttons are, despite what the textbooks might say. According to Rebecca Chalker, the author of The Clitoral Truth: The Secret World at Your Fingertips, there are references to clitorises and female ejaculation in the first sexual advice books that were written in China, in 500 B.C. Knowledge of the clitoris has been affected by cultural perceptions, sexism, and men who have never asked the opinion of someone who has one. It’s known by many nicknames: bean, nubbin, love button, sweet spot, devil’s doorbell. The shortened “clit” has been in use in print since 1958 and before that, its nickname was “clitty” which sounds like a fun mascot. Some people pronounce it clit-uh-ris and some pronounce it clit-au-rus, like a glorious little dino. In Seinfeld, it famously rhymed with Dolores, the real name of Jerry’s girlfriend, also known as Mulva.
The Ancient Greeks and Romans knew that the clitoris and penis were similar anatomically, and that knowledge carried through until the time of the Renaissance. In Ancient times, sexual activity was defined by penetration and it was believed that one partner needed to be “phallic.” It was even believed that lesbians must have enlarged clits, which they would have needed in order to penetrate (if not using a dildo). Ancient Greeks had nicknames too, calling it a chickpea and a myrtle-berry. In any case, it was inferior to the penis and women were “less-than” for not having one.
Since the clit was frequently omitted from anatomy in texts throughout history, it was also subject to a bevy of men who claimed that they discovered it. The Christoper Columbuses of Clits, so to speak. It’s a killer band name and a reminder that women were long kept out of the medical profession. “Cristoforo Colombo dei clitoridi!” the explorer would have exclaimed as he landed on the wrong island and planted a flag in a vulva. Here are some of the men who dared to look under the hood:
In the mid-fifteenth century, the clit had a new purpose in the cultural discourse and a new nickname: the devil’s teat. Women all over Europe were being accused of witchcraft, centuries before the Salem Witch Trials. In a famous text used to diagnose witches, the Malleus Maleficarum, witchcraft was linked to sexual desire. The origin of this desire, of course, was the clitoris. They even developed a test: if you stimulated the clitoris and it became engorged, then the owner of the clitoris was undeniably a witch. That’s a test I’m willing to take.
In the 1500s, Italian physician Realdo Colombo (also known as Renaldus Columbus) took a very Italian approach and based his research on his interactions with women. He named the clit the Amor Veneris, translated to the love of Venus. This Columbus described his discovery as “made with such art”, the very seat of women’s erotic pleasure: a small oblong which, if rubbed with a penis or even simply touched “with your little finger”, causes great pleasure and the flowing out of “seed.” Wait…seed? It’s important to note that these scientific tests weren’t being done in concern for a woman’s pleasure, but because it was still the scientific view at the time that both partners needed to climax and release a “seed” in order to result in a pregnancy.
But wait! Right after Clitoral Columbus claimed the discovery, his successor Gabriele Falloppio took credit, causing a fight in the medical community. He discovered the Fallopian tube and some people credit him with inventing the condom, so wasn’t that enough?
In 1672, a Dutch physician named Regnier de Graaf recognized that the clitoris had other parts, like the bulbs that were hidden from view. He then shamed other physicians, commenting “we are extremely surprised that some anatomists make no more mention of this part than if it did not exist at all in the universe of nature.”
In 1844, a German anatomist named George Ludwig Kobelt dissected clitorises (of dead bodies hopefully) and injected the lymphatic vessels to have a better understanding of how they were supplied with blood. The result was a better picture of the size of a clitoris, including the internal parts that can’t be seen.
These last three were feeling kind of shame-free right? Enter Freud, who called the clitoris an “infantile organ” and suggested that a grown woman should be able to have an orgasm through penetration. You just know that he was a jackhammer right? He told women that it was their responsibility to decide to achieve vaginal orgasm and suggested that the failure to do so may be a sign of mental illness. Are you wet yet?
In 2005, Australian urologist Helen O’Connell was the first person to fully map the clitoris, using MRI scans of actual living women (she began this research in the 1990s). This is an important moment to point out that Viagra was already on the market before anyone even mapped the clitoris. (In case you’re wondering why that might be, you should read my post from October, Why you can’t stop seeing the crooked carrot commercial.) Today, we finally have an understanding that the clitoris is not just one pleasure button, but a whole organ system.
So, if you subscribed here by mistake or are a lurker, what about you? How can I help you find the clitoris? I’m not giving you a map, not including an image. You can do something that almost none of these men throughout history did—you can ask someone who has one. Sure, that might force you to do something insane, like look a woman in the eyes. It will be good for you, I promise.
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Omg the devils doorbell I laughed out loud on that one! Thanks for making my day!
I enjoyed your style of writing. I’ve educated a number of women about their clitoris. Amazing they didn’t know. Of course there was some hands on (fingers?) demonstrating.