Birds, Bees, and String Cheese
Sometimes I worry if I have a daughter she will become a porn star. Something my mother said when I was very young proved surprisingly formative. She told me she didn't like the thought of her daughter doing porn, and all those girls were somebody's daughter. I agreed with her, but that of course did not stop me from looking. The argument became more cluttered as time went on, a series of tautologies weighing the pros and cons of being used for your body. No matter how liberal I was feeling I could not find the silver lining of it happening to someone I cared about.
I'm sure you know the kind of liberalism I'm referring to, things like female empowerment through sexual economics, a better life for strippers, that sort of thing. How about the most obvious argument of them all, that the women enjoy both the act and the life it affords and thus win-win? In my heart, I find it hard to believe they wouldn't rather do something else with their time, like managing a doggy day care.
I know all children will eventually have at least the opportunity to think for themselves. Some will take it, others will find comfort in never straying from parental wisdom. In my case, I was lucky enough to have parents who drove me to think for myself, so it is no surprise we agree so often. With more traditional I-Thou upbringings, the constant reminder is that parents tell their children what to do. No surprise, most of us wind up wondering just what the fuck we ARE supposed to do.
I know it must be incredibly difficult for parents as well. They put in time and money and can wind up with nothing to show for it beyond another perceived failure of self. A parent or parents raise a child who thinks nothing like them, disagrees with their way of life, and cuts ties with them after high school. For the child, this is a liberating thought, surrounded with possibilities. For the parents, I would imagine the guilt would be difficult to go beyond.
What my parents were expecting when they had me, if anything, I do not know. Since then, I've always known what their expectations were, even when the overriding message became to make my own decisions. I find myself asking what mom or dad would do in certain situations, and it helps to both reassert their continuing influence in my decision making and underscore my sovereignty.
The only chink in the armor is things like my mom's comment on porn stars, something I'd like to forget but am unable to. The problem started when I went to college and was absolutely bombarded with stories of someone's daughter letting someone's son take advantage of her. It made it incredibly difficult to enjoy the medicated stumbling that passed for socializing at UWM. I would look into the eyes of people about to cheapen the whole damn thing and I'd have to put down my horrible beer and leave. And they weren't even getting paid!
There's a phrase that's been lobbed at me for the past couple of years that would help illuminate what I'm feeling. "It's just sex." I agree, but only to a certain extent. You meet someone through a friend, there's an attraction, you have enjoyable sex a few times and move on, no strings. A rare occurrence, but possible and positive with the right people. Sex is just sex; it is physically gratifying, it boosts the ego, it releases chemicals that are designed to be so good they remind us why the fuck we're on earth in the first place. Where's the catch? Having sex can be without strings, but there is always a catch in finding it. One catch I hear the most often is when people admit they were simply horny and lonely and it could have been anyone. Meanwhile, their partner is saying the same thing and the whole experience becomes a failed attempt at filing a void. Another common tale is men who are so driven toward sex that they lose their own identity, libido zombies. Throw in the women who take full advantage of our cavemen tendencies and you've got a big old ball of tangled strings.
It really is a shame that so much baggage has been attached to what is essentially holding hands with different body parts. The entire aesthetic realm is based on attraction, a desire to know more, see more, and commune with. With so many choices, it is understandable we've become occasional slaves to it all - myself included. It is a shame that women have gone along so fully with their own objectification, but again, entirely understandable considering the enormous power it entails. The aforementioned bright-side logic of women getting what they need from being desired by men rings as hollow as ever. The modern day chase for sex is a toxic byproduct of female empowerment, and women understandably have an ax to grind after a few thousand years of subjugation.
Our generation owes itself some transparency when it comes to sex. We all want to feel desired because it feeds our ego and we all want to fuck because it feels great. "Not all of us! I'm such and such and such..." Shut up. You're repressed, and it's not my problem. We owe each other an honesty about what we are looking for in a partner, a sort of "it could be anyone but I'm glad it is you because" affirmation. This applies to every intimate relationship we engage in, from friendships to one night stands to marriages. It could be anyone, but it is you and me. If we listen to each other, we can give each other what we actually need. If we listen to each other, we could find what we thought was lost exactly where we left it.
This entry was brought to you by way too much time spent at Copps, where I am often unable to stop neither objectifying women nor feeling guilty about doing so.
I'm sure you know the kind of liberalism I'm referring to, things like female empowerment through sexual economics, a better life for strippers, that sort of thing. How about the most obvious argument of them all, that the women enjoy both the act and the life it affords and thus win-win? In my heart, I find it hard to believe they wouldn't rather do something else with their time, like managing a doggy day care.
I know all children will eventually have at least the opportunity to think for themselves. Some will take it, others will find comfort in never straying from parental wisdom. In my case, I was lucky enough to have parents who drove me to think for myself, so it is no surprise we agree so often. With more traditional I-Thou upbringings, the constant reminder is that parents tell their children what to do. No surprise, most of us wind up wondering just what the fuck we ARE supposed to do.
I know it must be incredibly difficult for parents as well. They put in time and money and can wind up with nothing to show for it beyond another perceived failure of self. A parent or parents raise a child who thinks nothing like them, disagrees with their way of life, and cuts ties with them after high school. For the child, this is a liberating thought, surrounded with possibilities. For the parents, I would imagine the guilt would be difficult to go beyond.
What my parents were expecting when they had me, if anything, I do not know. Since then, I've always known what their expectations were, even when the overriding message became to make my own decisions. I find myself asking what mom or dad would do in certain situations, and it helps to both reassert their continuing influence in my decision making and underscore my sovereignty.
The only chink in the armor is things like my mom's comment on porn stars, something I'd like to forget but am unable to. The problem started when I went to college and was absolutely bombarded with stories of someone's daughter letting someone's son take advantage of her. It made it incredibly difficult to enjoy the medicated stumbling that passed for socializing at UWM. I would look into the eyes of people about to cheapen the whole damn thing and I'd have to put down my horrible beer and leave. And they weren't even getting paid!
There's a phrase that's been lobbed at me for the past couple of years that would help illuminate what I'm feeling. "It's just sex." I agree, but only to a certain extent. You meet someone through a friend, there's an attraction, you have enjoyable sex a few times and move on, no strings. A rare occurrence, but possible and positive with the right people. Sex is just sex; it is physically gratifying, it boosts the ego, it releases chemicals that are designed to be so good they remind us why the fuck we're on earth in the first place. Where's the catch? Having sex can be without strings, but there is always a catch in finding it. One catch I hear the most often is when people admit they were simply horny and lonely and it could have been anyone. Meanwhile, their partner is saying the same thing and the whole experience becomes a failed attempt at filing a void. Another common tale is men who are so driven toward sex that they lose their own identity, libido zombies. Throw in the women who take full advantage of our cavemen tendencies and you've got a big old ball of tangled strings.
It really is a shame that so much baggage has been attached to what is essentially holding hands with different body parts. The entire aesthetic realm is based on attraction, a desire to know more, see more, and commune with. With so many choices, it is understandable we've become occasional slaves to it all - myself included. It is a shame that women have gone along so fully with their own objectification, but again, entirely understandable considering the enormous power it entails. The aforementioned bright-side logic of women getting what they need from being desired by men rings as hollow as ever. The modern day chase for sex is a toxic byproduct of female empowerment, and women understandably have an ax to grind after a few thousand years of subjugation.
Our generation owes itself some transparency when it comes to sex. We all want to feel desired because it feeds our ego and we all want to fuck because it feels great. "Not all of us! I'm such and such and such..." Shut up. You're repressed, and it's not my problem. We owe each other an honesty about what we are looking for in a partner, a sort of "it could be anyone but I'm glad it is you because" affirmation. This applies to every intimate relationship we engage in, from friendships to one night stands to marriages. It could be anyone, but it is you and me. If we listen to each other, we can give each other what we actually need. If we listen to each other, we could find what we thought was lost exactly where we left it.
This entry was brought to you by way too much time spent at Copps, where I am often unable to stop neither objectifying women nor feeling guilty about doing so.