In 2016, body politics went definitively mainstream. Transgender people, having previously been objects of niche curiosity and prurience at best from most of the media, became the subject of mid-morning current affairs debates, in-depth documentaries and sympathetic profiles. What does it mean to be trans? How should society change to give trans people necessary rights and protections?

These questions received urgent discussion, while other issues were more implied than addressed: how much is anyone able to control their own body, both in terms of what they choose to do with it and how it is perceived by other people? That problem of rights and responsibilities, and the tension between the individual and society, simmered away not only in the context of gender but also when it came to many other matters of sex and sexuality.

In January, the parliamentary women and equalities committee, under the leadership of Maria Miller, published its inquiry into transgender equality. Its key recommendation was that the UK should adopt the principle of self-definition when it comes to gender, meaning that legal sex would cease to be decided by physical sex and only alterable by medically and socially transitioning to some degree. Instead, the committee argued that individual identity should be the ultimate arbiter of whether one was male, female, neither, both or something in between.

The government took a pass on that in its July response, although it accepted several of the recommendations. Other legislatures weren’t so enthusiastic. Some were downright hostile, especially in the US. In March, North Carolina lawmakers passed an act that impinged on LGBT rights in multiple ways, but became notorious for its stipulation that individuals should only use the bathroom or changing room that matched the sex on their birth certificate. Bruce Springsteen and the NBA were among those who joined a boycott in response, cancelling events in the state; tech companies, including PayPal, pulled out of planned expansions in the region.

Such high-powered allies suggested that liberal attitudes were winning the culture war, even if lawmakers were supplying the backlash. The same seemed true for sexuality, as orientations beyond the straight found new acceptance – and a new vocabulary too, as identities such as “pansexual” (attracted to all genders) and “asexual” (without any particular sexual feels) gained currency.

Not that long ago, the suggestion of homosexuality was regarded as toxic to a celebrity’s career. When Lauren Jauregui of US girl group Fifth Harmony came out as a “proud bisexual” in November, there was no question of damage control: she joins a line of comfortably public bisexual female stars, including model Cara Delevingne and Hunger Games actor Amandla Stenberg.

Whether they would have been as warmly embraced if they’d declared themselves lesbians instead, however, was another matter. The abuse dealt to Labour MP Angela Eagle when she launched her leadership challenge in June often explicitly attacked her for being lesbian. And in November, a report from the famously liberal American town of Portland revealed that lesbian bars had all but ceased to exist – because it was impossible to declare an event “woman only” or “lesbian only” without entering the minefield of gender identity politics. Who, exactly, was being excluded from your definition of “woman”?

Trans inclusion failed to impinge in the same way on gay culture. The key issue for gay campaigners at the start of the year was a push for PreP (“pre-exposure prophylaxis”, a treatment that reduces the risk of contracting HIV) to be made widely available on the NHS for men who have sex with men. Did the benefit of preventing many HIV infections outweigh the cost of potentially encouraging barrier-free sex that would help to spread other STDs? In December, the NHS announced funding for a large clinical trial, to go ahead next year, that will help to settle the question of whether PreP’s harm-reduction benefits for the individual can be gained without the social costs.

Revelations about a small subculture of gay men engaging “chemsex” – sex, often involving multiple partners, under the influence of drugs such as GHB or crystal meth – formed a bleak and worrying theme of 2016. With encounters that crossed over from consensual to coercive, the stories of those involved gave a glimpse of the conflict between free-for-all hedonism and individual safety. “Anything goes” turns dangerous fast when the ability to say no is taken out of the picture.

Poland saw a mass statement of “no” in the October Black Protest, when women boycotted work and school in response to the ruling Law and Justice party’s attempt to introduce legislation that would have expanded the already stringent law on abortion to ban terminations even in cases of rape, incest and risk to the pregnant woman’s life. Following the protest, the proposal was dropped.

But a woman’s right to choose hardly felt assured. Mass protests against Ireland’s Eighth Amendment, which effectively bans abortion in almost all cases, have still not led to repeal. Meanwhile, the ascent of Donald Trump to the US presidency means that anti-abortion campaigners are anticipating the chance to step up from state level attacks on provision and finally overturn Roe v Wade.

In the UK, abortion rights were put on the frontline by a documentary in October, presented by the actor Sally Phillips, whose eldest child has Down’s syndrome. In it, she questioned the right of women to have access to a new, more accurate and less invasive form of testing for chromosomal disorders, on the grounds that this would lead to the near-elimination of people with Down’s syndrome.

While legislators consider making gender identity an individual choice, in the UK a woman’s ability to decide whether or not she should be pregnant still requires the consent of two doctors. Maria Miller is on record as supporting a reduction in the time limit for abortion from 24 weeks to just 20.

When it comes to body politics, some bodies seem to have a clearer path to self-determination than others. The battle lines of sex will go on being contested in the next year and beyond.