In How I Have Sex, we bring you candid retellings of people’s sexual lives that explore the multidimensional nature of this human experience. In this installment, 25-year-old V. shares what pansexuality and panromantic attraction mean to her.

I was 10 years old when I watched Salaam Namaste with my family in 2005. The intimate scenes between the actors were my first ever associations with sex and pregnancy. While I had read words like “sex” and “contraceptives” in newspapers and magazines, this was the first visual representation of the act of sex I had seen — even if it didn’t involve nudity (I’m not sure, I can’t seem to remember). Until then, the idea of sex was very abstract and vague.

When it comes to sex, David Schitt’s analogy really sums it up for me – “I like the wine, not the label.” I actually realized that I was pansexual when I heard the dialogue on Schitt’s Creek for the first time in 2020. While I always knew that I was queer, I never had the vocabulary to describe how and why I felt the way I did. I’ve never let the pressure of labels get to me.

Pansexuality and panromantic attraction to me is a sexual and romantic attraction and the desire to be with someone regardless of their gender identity, gender orientation, and sexual orientation. If I like someone, I like them for who they are — their values, political views, interests, personality — and not what their clothes, hair, or genitals look like.

On most occasions, I enjoy foreplay and other sexual acts more than penetrative or vaginal sex. So kissing, flirting, setting the mood by lighting candles all work well. Too little or no foreplay is kind of a bummer.

I masturbate once in a while and the frequency of it depends on how much privacy I have, my moods, and my menstrual cycle as I have PCOS which affects my drive considerably. I’ve had many memorable climaxes but mostly only during my solo masturbation sessions — never with a partner. I enjoy intimate acts more such as mutual masturbation and oral sex.

I tried a bullet vibrator once. It was quite enjoyable. Sometimes, I fantasize about sexual activities in public spaces, like having a remote-controlled vibrator or vibrating panties; maybe orgasm control and edging, pegging, even “happy ending” massages.

Related on The Swaddle:

Pansexuals Disregard the Gender or Sex of Potential Partners

I have always had a low to moderate sex drive as far as I can remember. I am gray-ace, which means that my desire to have sex fluctuates a lot. There are times when I want to engage more in sexual activity; on the other hand, there have been months when I have gone without thinking about it at all. My desire to have sex also depends on meaningful emotional attachment to a partner.

Back in 2018 when I was dating my ex-partner. We had great emotional and sexual chemistry. We were open about fantasies, likes, and dislikes, and respected each other’s minds and bodies. So, sex felt very natural and not like a chore.

I don’t like BDSM in any form. I don’t like it when my partner is unexpressive/silent — non-communication turns me off. [On the contrary], it’s a turn-on to hear their moans of pleasure. I also hate it when a partner tunes my nipple like it’s the goddamn radio button – there are better techniques, you know! Other things I really dislike are hard spankings, too much tongue while kissing, aggressive sex — and also poor personal hygiene, ew!

I have a form of anemia that affects the absorption of oxygen in my bloodstream. So if I hyperventilate a lot during sex or masturbation, my extremities (fingers and toes) become numb. I have had scary incidents in the past while being intimate with partners. If something like this occurs, it makes me averse to having sex. It’s not life-threatening, but it can be embarrassing if it happens with someone new.

I came out to a few online friends and acquaintances last month on social media. Many of my in-real-life friends as well as all my family members do not know about my queer identity as I don’t feel comfortable sharing this information with them.

As a young adult in college, there was a lot of pressure to engage in sex and be in relationships like it was a competition, especially from a cis-heteronormative point of view. When I first read the ‘Ask the Sexpert’ column in Mumbai Mirror, this section of the newspaper was a hot topic among students of my school and I learned a lot from it. By now I knew about sexual anatomy and how cis heterosexual sex worked, but it did not sound appealing or comfortable at all. I often wondered if it was painful and how people enjoyed it.

I’m not into casual sex and one-night stands at all, but many of my friends were and I always felt like I had to pretend I was too. There were many sexual acts that I didn’t enjoy but my partners did that I felt compelled to engage in because I didn’t know how to say no or express my discomfort.

Most of my online friends belong to the queer community and I feel like they are my chosen family. I wouldn’t say it was a relief to come out because I never felt the pressure, but it sure feels nice to know that I have the support and a sense of belongingness in the community.

Now that I am more open about my sexuality, I am more confident of what I like and dislike and express this [sexuality] better. I no longer feel the pressure to engage in acts that I am uncomfortable doing. I think of sex more in terms of emotional intimacy rather than as a means of achieving orgasm.

This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.