'Of course you can have sex in a wheelchair', runs the punch-line to sit-down comic Karen Shook's tale of an excruciating encounter with a nosy woman in a supermarket queue: 'But you've got to put the brakes on first'. Besides the uproarious images it conjures of sex on wheels, the story addresses several truths, not least the silence and ignorance surrounding disabled people's sexuality.

'When you're in a wheelchair, people don't see you as a sexual person, and it can be hard to see yourself as a sexual person, too,' says Kelly, 28. 'It's not exactly romantic heaving yourself out of a wheelchair and onto the bed. You can't always be as adventurous, or go for as long as you'd like. I can be really horny one minute and the next, I just want to go to sleep. Oh,' she adds, giggling. 'My disability is that I'm like a man!'

But as every lady-lover knows, before you get to sex you need to find yourself a woman and, for disabled dykes particularly, that can throw up a load of problems. Non-disabled women may find the bars and clubs of the scene unwelcoming – just try that with wheels on. And even when physical access isn't difficult, the scene can still be a tough environment, depending on your disability.

‘I can’t cope with loud bars – or even quiet ones – for very long,’ explains Frances, 41, who uses hearing aids. ‘It’s complete pants sitting under a speaker, or trying to follow a conversation with more than one person. I get very tired and bored and want to go home early, which can be annoying for anyone I’m with.’

Non-disabled women are accustomed to cruising for ‘fit’ chicks, but what happens when their eyes light on a lady with crutches or a white stick? ‘People see your disability before they see you,’ says Justine, 36, who’s blind. ‘More often than not, I’m with a friend, so people may think I’m partnered up. And I can’t make eye contact, so I probably miss out there.’
Where do disabled dykes find their girlfriends, then? Kelly let us in on a secret or two: ‘My first girlfriend after I was diagnosed was my nurse, which was completely not allowed! Everyone I’ve met since then has been through the DIVA Blue Rooms’. It’s not surprising that the internet is popular with disabled lesbians. In cyberspace, first impressions are all about how you come across, not how you look.



‘It’s had a huge impact,’ says Justine. ‘Partly due to being blind, I get anxious about going to new things on my own. I can’t read magazines or just go out and meet people, so the internet works for me.’

Facing progressive hearing loss, Frances also turned to the web. ‘For someone like me it‘s a level playing field. In the real world, I can no longer eavesdrop on a conversation or listen to a friend whisper in a crowd – but I can do both these things in the Blue Room. I’m just learning how to flirt on MSN and loving it; I asked someone out on a date for the first time in my life the other night, and she said yes! I’m not doing it again, though – it was nerve-wracking. I spent a great deal of time writing her a big email, explaining what was going on for me. And I just wanted a date, not a big romance... ’

But as Karen, 49, points out, even the internet is no haven of universal acceptance: ‘Last year I created profiles on two different sites. On one I mentioned I was a wheelchair user – fully mobile, independent, life-loving – and got absolutely no hits whatsoever. On the other, I said nothing about it and got quite a few messages. That’s the stark reality.’

Like many disabled dykes, Karen has had relationships with disabled and non-disabled women, and reports that there’s a definite difference: ‘ I felt my non-disabled ex wanted to be my carer, rather than an equal sexual partner. The roles can be difficult to work out. I don’t need much help and personal care, but there are lesbians I know who need far more. Then there are issues – do you let your partner do that for you?’

Earwig, 38, adds: ‘With other disabled people there’s often a shared experience, knowledge and understanding. Sometimes this makes approaching sex together easier – there can be less to explain, and more direct understanding of the issues.’

Not all disabilities are outwardly visible; Kayleigh, 20, who is registered disabled, developed severe depression and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder after being raped. Now she has to decide what she tells her new partners, and when. ‘Each day I think, “I’ll talk to her today”, and then I can’t do it because I’m too scared,’ she explains. ‘A lot of people back off when they realise someone’s got problems.’
Kayleigh’s disabilities have a huge impact on her sex life, too. ‘During sex, I can’t have some things done to me because it leads to a flashback, then a panic attack, and then I get all emotional. I used to like being passive but now I find that too hard, so I prefer to do all the stuff. If I’m lucky enough to have an orgasm, I freak out and have to stop. Sex has totally changed for me.’

For Frances, too, sex has changed as her hearing has deteriorated. ‘I LOVE the sexy wee groans, moans and sighs that tell me I’m getting it right,’ she told DIVA. ‘This is a huge loss. Perhaps the biggest worry I have at the moment is in hearing instructions. “Harder, softer, more, stop, left a bit,” etc. If someone shouted in my left ear, I would hear but it wouldn’t be sexy! Coupled with not hearing instructions, not hearing breathing makes timing a worry. I’m aware that there are other indicators, and I’ll learn these, but it’ll take time. And practice.’



It’s different for Heather,18, who was born with cerebral palsy. ‘I don’t consider there are “issues” because I’ve never had sex any other way, but I’ve had to work out ways round things, like the length of time my body will let me have sex. Sometimes my mind wants to carry on, but my body can’t. There can also be problems with having someone’s weight on top of me.’ Besides these practicalities, the kind of sex Heather likes is nothing out of the ordinary: ‘I’ll try anything once, to be honest, but I do enjoy a good session of sweet, tender loving, followed by swift, fast fucking.’

Kelly’s neurological condition means she sometimes loses sensation below the waist, which makes sex frustrating. ‘It does put me off a bit. You think, “What’s the point? I’m not going to have an orgasm”. But there are two people in the relationship – so that’s when my girlfriend gets lucky!’

Injured in an accident 13 years ago, one of Earwig’s legs is severely scarred. ‘It’s never stopped someone having sex with me, as far as I know,’ she says, ‘but I might need to introduce someone to it sensitively and carefully. That takes confidence and energy on my part. New lovers often have questions about my legs and maybe physical or emotional reactions to the scarring and deformity. They can be unsure of what’s OK to do with me, if anything might damage or hurt me.’ The key to good sex is always communication, but for disabled people there are often extra issues.

Sex toys can be a godsend when limbs let you down. ‘Over the years I’ve become more willing to embrace the use of toys,’ reveals Karen. ‘My hands are sometimes quite painful and swollen, and that makes it difficult, either in a solo situation or with a partner. Those little vibrator rings that go on your fingers make a big difference.’ She continues, ‘Imagination’s important when you’re disabled and a “mind fuck” can be better than the real thing, sometimes.’

It’s not all vanilla, either. Disabled lesbians may find that the kink community is more welcoming than conventional scenes, Karen suggests. ‘In terms of dressing up, role-playing and being “different”, whatever that may mean, you don’t stand out as much as being disabled at SM, rubber and fetish clubs. Individuality is highly prized – that’s the purpose of these events, unlike the homogenous lesbian scenes with their dress codes and unseen etiquette.’

Ju Gosling of Regard, the UK support organisation for disabled lesbians and gays, draws a wise observation from her own experience. ‘When I became single some years after becoming much more severely disabled than I had been when I met my ex, I thought my sex life was only going to be “virtual” from then on. However, it didn’t take me long to find out that good sex is possible, whatever your impairment, if you’re with the right person. Being disabled has probably saved me from quite a lot of bad sex with crap lovers, but that’s the only impact it’s had. If your lover puts you down, or demands sex in a way that’s not good for you, then you’re with the wrong person.’ Isn’t that true for all of us, disabled or not?

• Regard: Email: secretary@regard.org.uk; Web: www.regard.org.uk
• Outsiders: www.outsiders.org.uk
• DIVA Blue Rooms: br.divamag.co.uk