Wanking to Obama: How Fleabag changed the way we talk about female self pleasure

Rhonda considers how the show switched up the self-love landscape.

Among the many things that have been rendering me acutely aware of the headlong sprint of time recently have been finding out that a show that made me laugh so uncontrollably at the time that I still feel giddy from it actually first appeared on our screens nearly eight years ago.

I remember as if it was yesterday the headrush of that first scene of the very first episode of the wondrous Fleabag, aired on 21st July 2016 – and I also remember how many males of the species I know point-blank refused to watch any more of the show beyond that. Threatened, mucho?

But after that mindfuck of that "Do I have a massive asshole?" opening gambit combined with the asides to camera, there was even better to come, in the scene when Fleabag’s boyfriend wakes up to find her wanking next to him in bed as she watches Obama talk about the dangers of populism on her laptop.

Breaking the fourth wall (talking to camera) was not the most unusual thing about Fleabag. No, what was revolutionary was the reclaiming of female pleasure right down to its most intimate level – sex with oneself as preferable to sex with the man one is lying next to in bed.

Sex not as something linked with romance or relationships, but as a simple fact of appetite and everyday life – something women are very willing and able to take into our own hands. And yes, Obama! - god how refreshing it was to have a world leader worth wanking over. Things were definitely looking up.

When I was growing up, and even through my 30 and 40s, wanking wasn’t talked about among girls and women as it seem to have been among males – who, I have heard, sometimes do it together as some kind of competitive sport: who can come the quickest or hit a target.

Sure, we girls were masturbating, but we were doing it furtively and with a feeling of being somehow wrong, scuzzy, possibly unhinged and maybe even evil and bound for hell. Tracey tells she didn’t even know it existed, as a concept, until she was in her 20s, although she thinks she must have ‘done things’ before that. She also, worryingly, remembers a friend who used to stick Crayolas up her fanny – ‘the fat ones’.

Washing-machine corners, electric toothbrushes, an astonishing variety of vegetables… The roll call of improvised sex toys that we have applied to our collective genitals is long and strange. Some of them were even fun and did the job quite well. But today, joy of joys, there exist countless websites proffering all manner of weird, wild and downright wonderful sex toys to ensure that wherever you are, your erotic urges don’t need to go unmet.  

Remote-control love eggs, pulsating bullets, power petals, and classic and new-era dildos that thrust, flap, suck and god knows else - these all lie a mere click of your mouse away, and a knock on the door from your postman armed with a discreetly labelled parcel.

As Tracey and I recently informed an unfortunate fellow passenger on a late-night train to Brighton, the brutal truth that men don’t want to hear is that today’s sex toys can be better than boys. Indeed, any kind of self-sex can often be preferable to real-life interaction. Our newfound friend Gerard swallowed visibly, gazed out of the window into the depths of the Sussex night. “This is a big thing to have to get my head around,’ he muttered, although his facial expression suggested that deep down, he’d probably always suspected this to be the case.

I remember the first time I tried a rabbit vibrator and wondered what the hell I’d been wasting my time hanging around with men for. Of course, a rabbit can’t cuddle you in the morning. A rabbit doesn’t smell delicious, like many men do. A rabbit can’t hop out of bed and make you that post-coital cuppa. But nor does a rabbit roll over and fart, keep you awake with their snoring, steal the duvet, and/or paw at you for more when you don’t have any more to give.

And the very fact that we women can now all talk about this without shame or embarrassment! The fact that we can own it! Today’s women talk about self-pleasure a lot. We share tips and experiences, both between ourselves in person, and online. On Insta, one of my favourite accounts, @selfcervix (Olivia Bryant), advocates for amazing sex with yourself both in itself and as foundational for amazing sex with a partner:  

“It’s a way to really worship yourself, learn about yourself, take all the time in the world and you don’t need to deal with someone else’s needs or desires. It’s all for youuuu.”

Whether you’re having sex with other human beings or not, not only is masturbation self-care, it’s the highest expression of self-love – something we know that we all need to build and perfect before we can expect to be a half-decent partner to someone else.

I’m now such an advocate and connoisseur of sex toys that Amazon recently wrote asking me to be one of their Early Reviewers of new products. (‘Yassss, send me ALL the dildos!). On a night out in Malta, I found myself raving about them to a 20-year-old girl who professed she’d never tried one. And at customs at Mumbai Airport lately, I giggled as an officer pulled my backpack over to X-ray, revealing to everyone within eyeshot the silhouette of a very easily identifiable object – the astonishing 10-setting vibrator I’ve recently acquired and nicknamed ‘the jackhammer’.

If you’re still not convinced, then let the words ‘vaginal atrophy’ strike the fear of god into you, as they did me. Yet another of the symptoms of menopause, this can start out as vaginal dryness caused by the drop-off of oestrogen but ultimately lead to shortening and tightening of the vaginal canal – making sex and even the likes of potential life-saving smear tests impossible.

Regular masturbation – menopause wellness champion Meg Matthews advocates four times a week, to which I say, ‘Bring it on!’ – can prevent atrophy by increasing blood flow to the vaginal walls, strengthening and reinvigorating them. Researchers also believe regular orgasms can lessen several menopausal symptoms by alleviating stress, lifting your mood, and improving sleep.

So there you have it: Fun with your fanny is not only enjoyable, it’s essential. As the saying goes: Use it or lose it.