When SBS’s new show, Latecomers, premieres tomorrow, Australia will see something it’s never seen on television before. A disabled woman having sex. Here, that very woman - Hannah Diviney - shares what it was like to shoot this history-making scene.

Image: Hannah Diviney and Angus Thompson in Latecomers.
Over the last couple of years, I’ve written a lot of different pieces for Hireup. We’ve talked politics, pop culture, pandemics and personal topics. One thing we’ve never talked about is sex.
Now obviously, that’s mostly because it’s an intensely private thing, but it also comes down to the fact that the intersection of sex and disability makes people pretty uncomfortable. Society either thinks it doesn’t happen, infantilising our community and erasing our desire, or they fetishize us, removing our agency and control.
There’s never really been any middle ground, let alone any representation in the media which we all, to some degree, subconsciously use to guide our expectations around sex, romance, desire and relationships. If you’re a consumer of TV or film, chances are you’ve watched a sex scene. You’ve seen them hot, awkward, intense, dangerous, passionate, romantic and everything in between. But I bet you’ve never seen them with a disabled female body.
In fact, I know you haven’t. At least not on Australian television because - as far as I know - I’m the first disabled woman to do a sex scene on TV in this country. That’s not a piece of history I ever imagined I’d claim. But I have, and I’m proud of that because what we made in the new SBS series, Latecomers, is honestly beautiful.

Image: Patrick Jhanur, Angus Thompson, Miriama Smith and Hannah Diviney in Latecomers.
I wouldn’t be able to say this so confidently were it not for the amazing intimacy coordinator we had on set, whose sole job it was to make sure we were comfortable. They created a space where safety and consent were paramount, helping me and my scene partner choreograph everything so we always knew exactly where our bodies were. Where we needed to put our hands, what way to turn our heads and yes, even what sounds to make.
That might sound awkward and laughably strange – and it was. But it also meant there was no room for anything blurry. This was technical, a dance, two people doing a job with boundaries.
The scene we ended up with is intentionally messy and imperfect but also incredibly tender – never once insinuating what’s happening but actually forcing the audience to sit with it. To look at a disabled body. To acknowledge scars and curves, and other idiosyncrasies that able bodies don’t have.

Image: Hannah Diviney and Angus Thompson in Latecomers.
While shooting this scene was incredibly intimidating and required extreme vulnerability on my part, making the decision to hone in on it and do this properly was in the end, easy.
I knew what it would mean to our community. What it would have done for me as a teenager who hated her body, who felt unloveable, who kept being told in so many ways that she’d end up alone or, if she was lucky enough to get a shot, it would only ever be with another disabled person.
Working on this scene has broken down walls around my feeling desirable, being in control and getting to decide who I want in my narrative. We all cried - the crew, me and my fellow cast members - when it wrapped.
I can’t wait for everyone in the disability community to see it, to feel seen and to feel that, just maybe, the love stories they’ve always deserved are actually within reach. Because hey, if it happens on TV, that means it can happen in real life too.

