Let’s Talk About Disabled Sex and Joy
Sexuality doesn’t stop at the threshold of bodies labelled “disabled” — in fact, for many disabled people it opens up a whole new playbook of pleasure, creativity, adaptation and joy. It’s time to flip the narrative from purely “risk,” “barrier,” or “challenge” to “yes – this is fun, this is sexy, this is valid.”
Why this matters
Historically, disabled people’s sexual lives have been ignored, pathologized, infantilized or erased altogether. As one commentary put it: “The taboos around disability and sex put limits on everyone, disabled or not,” (The Guardian). And yet research shows intimate relationships and sexual pleasure are central to well-being for many disabled people. For example, one qualitative study of women with physical disabilities found that sexuality and socio-sexual relationships were indeed part of everyday life, despite barriers (Scand. J. of Disability Research). Even more recent work speaks about “queer-crip joy” — embracing intimacy, desire and pleasure in ways that resist normative assumptions (SAGE Journals).
So yes, joy and disabled sex belong together — and much more often than the popular narrative would suggest.
What does “fun, joyful disabled sex” look like?
Picture this: laughter, improvisation, creative positions, assistive tools or tech if needed, communication that's explicit (and maybe hilarious), boundaries that feel safe, and two (or more) people genuinely connecting, physically and emotionally. Some of the elements that make it especially rich:
Adaptation is sexy. Using pillows, straps, wheelchair-friendly angles, or even just openly talking about what feels good, what needs support. The fact that someone thinks creatively about their body and pleasure? That’s a turn-on!
Communication turned up. One of the perks of centering disabled sex is that talking about limits, supports, desires often becomes part of the flirtation and foreplay. That makes people’s experiences richer.
Visibility and authenticity. Disabled bodies don’t always see themselves in mainstream sexy imagery. Every time someone with a visible (or invisible) disability embraces pleasure, that’s a little victory for authenticity.
Intersectionality of joy. Pleasure may look different — maybe slower, maybe with more planning, maybe with more awareness. But those differences don’t detract from the joy; they add nuance.
Humour is often the icing. Given the extra layers of logistics or myth-busting around disabled sex, humor is a frequent companion. Which is why we want to highlight Tina Friml.
Shout-out: Tina Friml
Tina Friml is a New York based comedian who brings the kind of wit-and-truth combo that hits deep. She makes jokes about sex and dating as a disabled woman throughout her stand-up routines. Even when she isn’t doing a set directly about sex, her presence matters for the theme of disabled pleasure and visibility, “I’m disabled, but I’m not totally committed to the lifestyle,” she often quips (Saint Michael's College). Tina is just one example of the necessity to explore the humor, fun, and funny sides of sexuality for all.
Tips for owning pleasure (and having fun)
Talk openly about your body and what you need. “I have CP / vision difference / chronic pain” doesn’t mean “I don’t want sex.” It means “Let’s figure out how this works so it does feel good.”
Try tools. Whether it’s accessible furniture, adjustable angles, vibration devices designed for different bodies, or simply… a good old pillow strategy. Adaptation = innovation.
Cue humor. If you can’t laugh at how you pretty much turned your wheelchair into a sexy throne for the evening … then you might be missing part of the fun.
Consent is always sexy. Knowing your limits, asking for what you want, getting enthusiastic “yes” from your partner(s) — this is gold.
Ignore the myth of “normal.” Normal is boring. Your body + your desire = legitimacy. Plenty of disabled people are navigating radically creative and joyful sex lives. And you can too.
Moving the needle on representation
When disabled pleasure is shown — not as pity or inspiration porn, but as desire, choice and joy — it shifts culture. The more we see disabled bodies in romantic or sexual light, the more the myth “disabled people aren’t sexual” fades. Research like that from the Disability & Sexuality Lab highlights how important it is to create the stories, resources and spaces that centre disabled people’s sexual lives (Disability & Sexuality Lab).
Final word
Disabled sex can absolutely be joyful, playful, exploratory, raucous, tender, kinky — all of the above. It deserves its place in the conversation. Bodies that roll, propel, adapt, leap, rely on supports or no supports at all — they can desire; they should be desired; they will have fun. And if you ever need proof that disability + desire + humour mix well together, just watch a Tina Friml set.
Here’s to pleasure, to weirdness, to sheer unstoppable joy — no matter how you move, how you love, how you live. Your body is valid. Your desire is valid. Your fun night in (or out) is valid.