From Weird Warts to Freudian Slips: The Unfiltered Life of a Sexualities Scholar

There are many perks to being a sexualities scholar. I get to explore the complex, intimate, and often misunderstood ways that sex, desire, and identity shape our world. I have the privilege of teaching students about topics that many have never had the space to discuss openly. I get to collaborate with amazing people doing critical, justice-oriented work.

But let's be honest: being a sexualities scholar is also hilarious. The job comes with a never-ending supply of awkward moments, Freudian slips, unsolicited confessions, and occasional requests to diagnose someone’s “weird wart down there.” Here are just a few of the lighter—and let’s say, more penetrating—moments I’ve experienced in the field.

“Oh… Is That Your Pick-Up Line?”

I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve told someone I’m a sexualities scholar, only for them to look at me like I just made the world’s boldest first move.

“It’s not a pick-up line,” I’ll say, trying to sound casual.

“Uh-huh,” they reply, one eyebrow arched and suddenly very intrigued.

Let me be clear: Apparently, telling someone I study sex and sexualities for a living is the academic equivalent of whispering sexy words. Sometimes I can practically see them mentally scrolling through questions they’ve always been too embarrassed to Google.

And let’s be real, once the clarification is made, the floodgates open...

The Confessional Booth (a.k.a. Any Social Setting)

Once people know what I do, I sometimes become a safer space for all their questions. At dinner parties, on airplanes, in the awkward few minutes after someone’s just found out I’m not a medical doctor—suddenly I’m being asked about kink, non-monogamy, gender identities, and “how many times a week is normal?”

I don’t mind. In fact, I love that people feel comfortable asking me the things they’ve never felt they could talk about. But occasionally, the timing is… interesting.

Like the time when someone pulled me aside at an event to whisper, “Can I ask you something? It’s about pegging.” Or when a hookup, in the middle of sex, asked me about my opinion on sex robots, as our earlier chat intrigued him.

Sexuality Scholar ≠ I Have Done It All

Another popular assumption is that I must be some kind of sex expert who has tried everything under the sun. I can almost see people creating mental checklists when they hear about my work.

Spoiler: I haven’t done it all. Not even close.

Yes, I’ve explored different things. Yes, I’m open-minded. But no, I haven’t tried every sex toy, practiced every position, or had every experience I’ve ever studied. I research social scripts, not Kama Sutra sequences.

Also, just in case it needs to be said again, I am not a medical doctor. So no, I can’t take a look at your mystery bump and tell you what to do (but I can refer you to a very good clinic and remind you to practice safer sex).

The Unofficial Sex Educator Among Friends

Over the years, I’ve become the go-to person for all relationship drama, awkward sex questions, and “Is this weird?” scenarios in my friend group. I do appreciate that. I like being that person.

I’ve reviewed dating profiles, given feedback on break-up texts, offered advice on navigating threesomes, and once even coached someone through sending their first nudes (“Lighting matters, darling” — Mariah Carey would agree).

The most unforgettable moment? Being asked to check out “a weird wart down there” at a BBQ. I nearly dropped my hot dog. For the record, I didn’t look. I calmly suggested they see a medical professional.

Accidental Innuendos: A Professional Hazard

Freudian slips are practically an occupational hazard. When you spend your days talking about sex, it’s hard not to let a few unintended zingers slip out.

There was the time I confidently said “double fisting” instead of “double dipping” during a research presentation. Or the time I told a colleague how “hard it is to penetrate some networks.” Another personal favorite: “Social inequality penetrates our bodies.”

Naturally Bringing Theory into Dates and Hookups

Here’s a confession: I’ve absolutely used the words sexual capital on a date.

Let me set the scene. We’re having a lovely lunch, discussing the ways online dating apps reproduce social hierarchies, and next thing you know I’m quoting Bourdieu and analyzing the erotic dynamics of Grindr.

I’ve also talked about ableism, crip theory, and the social construction of sexual scripts mid-dates. Sometimes the date is into it. Sometimes they just nod politely while planning their exit strategy. Fair.

Not Everyone Talks About Sex All Day

Perhaps the most important lesson I’ve had to learn is this: not everyone is as comfortable talking about sex as I am.

I live in a bubble where discussions of desire, bodies, and identities are normalized, celebrated, even. But outside of certain academic and activist circles, many people still struggle to talk openly about sex without shame, giggles, or discomfort.

And I get it. It takes time, safety, and trust to navigate all the taboos associated with sex.

Final Thoughts: I Love This Work

Despite the double entendres, the surprised faces, and the unsolicited dermatological requests, I love being a sexualities scholar. It’s weird, it’s messy, it’s deeply human. I get to spend my days talking about pleasure, politics, power, and people, as well as the ways those things collide in beds, in institutions, and in our everyday lives.

So the next time someone tells you they study sexuality, maybe don’t assume they’re trying to flirt with you. But feel free to ask your question about pegging. We’ve probably heard it before.