One thing we know for sure about the séxuality
of conjoined twins: People who aren't conjoined are fascinated by it.
At least it seems that way, judging by the number of reporters calling
to ask about the séx lives of conjoined twins. Although there are no real studies of the séx
lives of conjoined twins, we can safely assume that conjoined twins
want -- and occasionally feel conflicted about wanting -- séx, as we all do.
But not as conflicted as we singletons seem to feel about them having séx.
Typically, people who are close to conjoined twins come to adjust and
see them as different but normal; they seem fairly untroubled by the
idea of conjoined twins pursuing séx and romance. But those who are watching from afar cannot abide.
The
best example of this would probably be the story of Chang and Eng
Bunker, "the Siamese Twins," so called because they were from Siam (now
Thailand). Chang and Eng were joined by just a bit of liver and some
skin. One April day in 1843, Chang married Adelaide Yates, while brother
Eng married sister Sallie Yates. Based on the fact that Chang and
Adelaide had 10 children, and Eng and Sallie 12, it's fair to say the
brothers had séx.
At the autopsy of the Bunker twins, one of the anatomists opined that their active séx
lives "shocked the moral sense of the community" -- even though the
truth is that the Bunkers' neighbors appeared to have just accepted the
situation. A little known fact is that the Bunker wives' father
originally objected to his daughters marrying the twins not because they
were conjoined, but because they were Asian.
Yet
in the nineteenth century, when doctors discussed whether the twins
Millie and Christina McCoy could marry, one spoke for many: "Physically
there are no serious objections ... but morally there was a most decided
one." When, in the 1930s, Violet Hilton sought to get a marriage
license while conjoined to her sister Daisy, she was repeatedly refused.
The same discomfort generally carries through to our own time. When
filmmaker Ellen Weissbrod set out to do an A&E Channel program about
Lori and Reba Schappell, who are conjoined at the face, Weissbrod
showed raw footage of the twins to New Yorkers on the street, without
explanation, to gauge their reactions. Upon figuring out what she was
looking at, one woman said only, "I mean ... séx ..."
Séx
is often mentioned by commentators on conjoinment as one of the
beautiful things supposedly made instantaneously horrible by
conjoinment. I'm afraid I just laughed when, in writing a book on
conjoined twins, I came across this 1984 line by a nurse writing in a
medical journal: "Two people never being able to obtain privacy to
bathe, excrete, copulate, or eat defies imagination." Surgeons sometimes
openly allude to séxuality
as a motivator for separation surgery. In 2002, as soon as he had made
the cut separating two little girls joined at the head, the neurosurgeon
involved paused to announce to the assembled medical team, "We now have
two weddings to go to."
Indeed,
when I talked to contemporary surgeons about how they decide whether to
undertake the substantial risks some separations involve, I found that
surgeons had two fears, sort of conjoined: one, that twins would grow up
conjoined and thus never have séx; two, that twins would grow up conjoined and actually have séx.
Believe
it or not, surgeons have done this: Separated toddler twin boys and
made one a girl, because there was only one penis to go around.
In
fact, this has been done in two cases. In one case, the "girl" is said
to have reverted to being a boy, and in the other, the
child-left-as-male died, leaving the parents who came to the hospital
with two sons to go home with one daughter. Yes, this was considered
better than leaving the children alone.
So, what do conjoined twins feel when they have séx? If one is séxually stimulated, does the other feel it? If one has an órgasm,
does the other enjoy the same, however unwittingly? The short answer is
that we don't know. Conjoined twins, like the rest of us, tend not to
talk in great depth publicly about their most intimate moments. Based on
what we know about the significant variability of one conjoined twin to
feel a body part (e.g., an arm) that putatively "belongs" to the other
twin, it's hard to guess how any conjoinment will turn out in practice.
Nerves,
muscles, hormones, and psychology all probably factor in to who feels
what. If twins share one set of genitals, they're both going to feel any
touching down there. Whether or not both are "having séx" with the third person in the equation depends on how you think about "having séx."
One reporter asked, if Abby Hensel is kissed, will her sister Brittany
feel it? The biology geek in me wants to answer that the happy hormones
that come from a good kiss probably work their way to both brains. But
the student of human nature in me says that, when your sister gets
kissed and you don't, it's quite possible that the unhappy hormones end
up standing at the gate. From my studies, I would postulate that
conjoined twins probably end up having less séx than average people, and that is not only because séx partners are harder to find when you're conjoined. Conjoined twins simply may not need séx-romance partners as much as the rest of us do.
Throughout
time and space, they have described their condition as something like
being attached to a soul mate. They may just not desperately need a
third, just as most of us with a second to whom we are very attached
don't need a third -- even when the séx gets old. But when a conjoined twin has séx with a third person, is the séx -- by virtue of the conjoinment -- incestuous? Homoséxual? Group séx? Well, it definitely is séx. You can tell, because everyone wants to talk about it.
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