New Hero: Shadeen Francis
AURORE had the chance to discuss when it’s time to consult a sex therapist, pain & pleasure, and neuroscience with sex & relationship therapist Shadeen Francis (@shadeenfrancis)
When did you begin to foster an interest in sex therapy?
In the summer between 6th and 7th grade! I didn’t have language for it then, but that is where my origin story begins. Up until that point, my career plan was to join the X Men - I was just biding my time until my mutant powers were unlocked. At that time in my life, sexual references and innuendos were everywhere, but meaningful sex education was completely absent. I was curious and confused, but there was nowhere to ask questions and get real answers. That summer, I caught a segment of Canadian sex educator Sue Johanson’s late night talk show, Talk Sex with Sue. Listening to her answer callers’ questions, I could hear not only how transformative it was for people to access sexual health information, but also how much of an impact sex and pleasure had on people’s well-being. One caller even said that Sue saved her life! As I got older, that vision only got clearer. I watched people suffer, privately but also openly, in unsatisfying or unsafe sexual relationships. And there wasn’t anywhere to go but to peers, or magazine columns. I wanted to be a resource for positive change. I had already known I wanted to work in sexuality from that early pre-teen summer, but my desire to actively help people create lives filled with peace and pleasure brought me to sex therapy.
Do you believe that all couples should consult a sex therapist? Why or why not, and when do you know it's time?
I can’t say that everyone needs the same tool. We are all navigating our own journeys and have our own unique values, challenges, and goals. That being said, I would love for more couples to consider sex therapy as a resource, not just as a place to go to when you are in crisis (although it can be that!). Therapy can offer people a supportive place to talk about their sexual selves: desires, exploration, identity, fantasy, trauma, designing the sexual relationship you want to have. Very few of us grew up with access to comprehensive, medically-accurate, pleasure-centered sex education. Even fewer of us had knowledgeable and non-judgmental people to talk us through our questions or help us negotiate sexually satisfying experiences. And we live in a culture driven by oppression, confusion, and shame. Because of this, we are all figuring out our sexual selves in real time, experimenting on our bodies and the bodies of our partners! Sounds risky, no? You don’t have to figure it all out on your own. Having an intentional space and protected time to learn, share, and explore would serve many people well. If partners are curious about therapy, are open to change, and have the time and money to invest, it could be the time to look for a sexuality professional that is a good fit!
“I would love for more couples to consider sex therapy as a resource, not just as a place to go to when you are in crisis.”
How do we bridge the gap between pain and pleasure? Can and should the two coexist?
Pain and pleasure already co-exist and can modulate one another. Both pain and pleasure are types of sensation that can vary with intensity, duration, and context. Consider these examples:
Some massages are so penetrating that they hurt, but they still feel good.
You enjoyed this hike for the first 10km, but now you are starting to cramp
You might enjoy the rough texture of a body scrub but not the feeling of sliding on gravel
Some of the most popular erotica includes rough handling or painful elements like scratching, spanking, biting, flogging or choking
People often see pain and pleasure as opposites, but this isn’t the case. There is pain that takes away from pleasure, and pain that facilitates pleasure. What matters to me is what people want. My role is not to tell folks what they should enjoy, but rather, to support them in advocating for what sensations they are open to experiencing. The bridge between pleasure and pain then, for me, ultimately is consent. You may have things that feel good but you don’t want, just like you may have pain that you are okay with or actively seek. Your capacity, interests, and tolerance can change, but it is important to me that people have access to choice. Many of us were taught that we don’t have a say, that we just need to take what we get. This is a foundational teaching of oppression, and oppression facilitates the true opposites to pleasure: trauma and disconnection. Centering pleasure and choice is what makes this liberation work. As a young, Black, queer, woman with invisible limitations, I recognize how integral these are for our collective wellbeing, for justice, and for our sexual freedom.
Can you describe your interdisciplinary approach to sexual therapy and education to our followers?
My approach to this work is very much reflective of how I see the world. I see everything as connected, and I have a driving belief that while people are complex, full of nuance and layers, the world is simple. So in my work I am often breaking down big concepts or complicated problems into patterns, helping people see the through-lines.
I am particularly invested in the connection between our actions and our feelings, and the connection between our feelings and our desires. I take foundational elements from theory (psychology, neuroscience, human behavior, etc.) and find ways to integrate that into the ways we understand the world: through story and humor and art and music, and so on. Sex is a transferable skill, so sometimes in my work I haven’t used the word sex at all, but we are still able to create positive change because sex isn’t only found in our relationships or in the bedroom. It is everywhere: it is in our politics, it is in fashion, it is in our thoughts about bodies, it’s in our relationship to nature, it is in our understanding of who we are. Sexuality has such a significant influence on our lives. This is a gift that allows me to be creative and expansive about how we explore it further, how we resolve problems, and how we pursue pleasure.
How do you think our culture needs to grow in regards to discovering self-sensuality?
I don’t know what self sensuality is! I am a logophile, a lover of language, so this may be a colloquialism I am missing. As I define it, sensuality is inherently about self. Sensuality is the experience of gratifying your senses; a way of being that is rooted in a commitment to pleasing yourself. You cannot create or design sensuality for others, to be sensual, you need to be embodied and self-aware so that you can feel and experience pleasure.
Different cultures have different relationships to sensuality and feeling at large. I am a transplant to this country, but if we think about the United States, people are taught to focus on productivity and material success. We are leading very disembodied lives; it is hard to prioritize sensory pleasure while caught in the never ending spiral of exploitation and hustling. We live in a nation that is filled with violence and fear and shame, one that doesn’t provide education on emotional well-being or on satisfying relationships. The “American Dream”. While the messages of oppressive systems like colonization and capitalism are global, there is a lot we can learn from cultures around the world. As an example, I am the child of Caribbean immigrants. Although there is strong cultural pressure towards academic success and career stability, Caribbean culture also prioritizes a relationship to nature, a commitment to slowing down, and tons of rituals around vivacious music and enjoying food. These are deeply sensual experiences.
As a way to reconnect with sensuality and pleasure, I invite people to ask themselves this question: what would feel good to me in this moment? Use this as an opportunity to check-in with your senses: What would taste delicious? What would I love to see? What kind of touch would bring me joy or ease? What sounds would fill me with wonder? What scents would delight me? The more we each make these small changes to pay attention to the sensory quality of our lives, the greater the possibility is for pleasure. If we choose to do this together, it can become a radical shift of our larger cultures towards a sensual future.
How do you tend to your own pleasure amid all of the work you do?
I speak so highly about cultivating a pleasurable life because I know intimately how easy it is to get lost in work and responsibilities. Especially for any of us that have experienced body-based trauma, it is a common physiological response for your mind to protect you from stress by dissociating. I’m not willing to risk waiting for pleasure to just happen to me, because if I’m not paying attention, my default setting is to run on autopilot, outside of my body. So I have been incredibly intentional about building pleasure into my life as a routine, rather than a collection of one-off experiences.
“I keep mirrors all around my home, not for vanity or decor (although they are good for both!), but because they are a constant reminder that I am not just a floating head - I have a whole body to tend to.”
My route to pleasure is only possible because I have created a life that is all about feeling. Not just the yummy delightful feelings, but the unpleasant ones too. I am always working to stay present and engaged as best I can. I do a lot of small things to stay connected to my emotions and my body. I keep mirrors all around my home, not for vanity or decor (although they are good for both!), but because they are a constant reminder that I am not just a floating head - I have a whole body to tend to. My work has me in deep and regular connection to people. To counter that, I spend a lot of time alone, which allows me to tune into myself and tune out of the feelings of others. I find scents really grounding, so even though I work from home I always smell good. I am often touching my body: rubbing my thighs, putting lotion on my hands or moisturizing my lips, as a way of practicing intimate and pleasurable non-sexual touch. I dance around my home, stretch often, lay in the sunlight as it pours through my windows, go to the gym or to a boxing class. I don’t moralize food or police what I am eating - I eat things that make me feel nourished and satisfied. I let myself cry or pout or rage without a lot of self-consciousness. And of course, there is sex: flirtation and affection and curiosity and orgasms that are all a part of my life, without shame and without pressure. All of these are practices that make all the other pleasures possible for me. And I say practices because I had to learn what works for me, be intentional about resisting the barriers, and create rituals that allow me to stay vulnerable.
I should also add that I don’t have the discipline to commit to things I don’t want to do, so I have had to build a career that I love and that brings me pleasure. But when I’m off work, I’m off. It’s not hard for me to spend time luxuriating in things that feel good; I don’t feel guilty about rest or enjoyment. What would be the point of this life if all we were meant to do was toil? I wouldn’t volunteer for that suffering when I could be taking a nap or eating sushi or making-out with my spouse.
Which affirmation is leading in your sex life right now?
I can have anything I want, even if I can’t have everything I want.
Your bio says "everyone wants to know how to fuck, let me remind you how to feel." Can you expand on/tell us a bit about the feel?
I got a degree in Neuroscience before I pursued a graduate degree in marriage and family therapy because I wanted to understand how people work. What I learned, to my huge dismay, was that we can’t just eliminate “bad feelings” to make the world a better place. We are inherently emotional creatures wired for connection, and we understand the world first through the lens of feeling. Everything that has ever mattered to you, every difficult moment, everything you want, is connected to a feeling.
But we don’t think this way, which is where I think we get the most stuck. People often come to me looking for advice. It usually sounds like a Google search: Why can’t I orgasm? How do I know if I am trans? Should I stay in my marriage? What people are actually struggling with, within those questions, are emotions. They are often saying: I feel ashamed, I feel angry, I feel scared. Sometimes there are simple answers - I can’t tell you how many times I have to remind people about lube or direct them to ask their partners for what they like! But usually the challenge is deeper than a new position or some water-based support. Instead of telling people what to do, I help people better understand their emotions, clarify their needs, and develop the skills to create the sexual lives they want. So instead of talking about how to fuck, my work with people helps them create better sex lives by connecting them with how to feel.
