The Hidden History of Female Pleasure and the Emotional Labour Women Carry

 

Short Essay (Interview Style): The Hidden History of Female Pleasure and the Emotional Labour Women Carry

When I interviewed a woman in her early fifties about how menopause reshaped her understanding of her own body, she began with a simple observation: “We were never taught any of this.”

Her story echoes a wider pattern. For many women who grew up in the 1970s and 1980s, sex education focused almost entirely on reproduction and male desire. Female pleasure — and the anatomy that makes it possible — was barely mentioned. She described how she and her peers entered adulthood without accurate terminology for their own bodies, and without any cultural permission to talk about what felt good.

This silence wasn’t accidental. It has deep historical roots. Popular culture often blames the Victorian era for repressing female sexuality, but modern scholarship shows the truth is more complicated. Research published in Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society explains that nineteenth century medical texts actually contained a wide range of views on female pleasure, and that the idea of Victorians “denying the clitoris” is largely a modern myth.

The real shift happened later. According to historian Alison M. Moore, the clitoral–vaginal divide — the belief that vaginal orgasm was the “proper” female response — was a twentieth century invention, not a Victorian one. This misconception shaped decades of sex education and reinforced the idea that women’s pleasure was secondary, optional, or even inappropriate.

The woman I interviewed described the emotional labour this created. Many women of her generation were taught to prioritise a partner’s satisfaction, to avoid conflict, and to “perform” reassurance during intimacy. She said the pressure to make someone else feel good often overshadowed her own comfort — a pattern she now recognises as a form of emotional work.

She also reflected on how medical experiences — smear tests, internal examinations, childbirth — can feel invasive when women have never been taught what their anatomy actually is. She noted that many women ten years older than her were raised on the phrase “lie back and think of England,” a cultural shorthand for female sexual passivity that still shocks her.

What changed things for her was menopause. She explained that learning about her body later in life — through reading, research, and open conversation — helped her understand sensations she had always experienced but never had language for. She also discovered that pleasure can support wellbeing during menopause, helping with mood, tension, and stress. She emphasised that this isn’t about “fixing” anything; it’s about recognising that women deserve knowledge about their own bodies.

Her story is not unusual. It reflects a generation of women who grew up without information, without vocabulary, and without validation — and who are now reclaiming their understanding of themselves. As modern media finally begins to portray female anatomy and pleasure accurately, she hopes younger women will never have to unlearn what she did.

Footnote-

These three blog posts were all inspired by the book "Flick" by Abigail Tarttelin. I heard the author speaking on a podcast, and it resonated deeply with the themes I’ve been exploring. It’s fascinating how a single story can spark so many reflections on our own lives.