Hypothetical Dystopia

We continually malign the good girl as “repressed,” while the bad girl is (wrongly) perceived as intrinsically expressing her individuality and somehow proving her sexuality. Taking off your shirt is a way to “be part of history,” according to a professor who has studied the ‘Girls Gone Wild’ phenomenon. Leave your clothing on, and who will notice you or know that you are proud of your body? Modesty is always taken to be shame, although they are two distinct words and two very difficult concepts. The prevailing view is that if you think sexuality should be private or special, then you must be ashamed of it. You’re a prude. Conversely, if you are “comfortable with your sexuality,” then you should be “cool” with lifting your shirt for strangers or cheering on your man as he enjoys a lap dance with another woman.

Shalit, Wendy. Girls Gone Mild: Young Women Reclaim Self-Respect & Find It’s Not Bad to Be Good. Random House; New York. 2007. (pg. 26 - 27)


Now that some ‘Playboy’ bunnies are defecting, admitting publicly that the sex at the ‘Playboy’ mansion is actually quite awful, the time is perhaps ripe to discard some of our assumptions. Even non-bunnies, such as Jennifer Saginor - whose father was Hugh Hefner’s “doctor,” in charge of providing diet pills and breast enhancements for Hefner’s “girls” - felt she was damaged by seeing nineteen-year-old girls dying of drug overdoses, and girls whose last act on earth was performing sexual favors for men in public. Today she admits that seeing sex so violently dissociated from emotion has made it “difficult to be intimate. Very difficult.

Shalit, Wendy. Girls Gone Mild: Young Women Reclaim Self-Respect & Find It’s Not Bad to Be Good. Random House; New York. 2007. (pg. 27)


Is Blood Thicker Than Politics? →

jessicavalenti:

My latest on the sometimes painful intersection of family and politics. 

Last night, I read a facebook status of one of my friends espousing his political views that can only be described as the complete opposite of my own.

His claim that anything contrary to the true “purpose of sexuality” (that is, to have babies) should be illegal. This included all forms of contraception (condoms, birth control, etc.) and abortion. I was greatly angered that he would reduce my sexuality and my identity as a woman to that of a baby-making machine. But to him, anyone who disagreed with him was a child murderer. How can I look a friend in the eyes and know he values a fetus over my life and believes that I should stay off birth control that I use for debilitating cramps and instead seek “therapy?”

To simply stop talking to him cannot and will not be an option to me. He has every right to express his opinion, even if I loathe every word he says. To cease communication with him would be just as bad as if he did the same to me. I cannot close off the people I disagree with. I cannot be close-minded. I will listen. And I will always know what I stand for.


…if the majority of messages a young girl receives add up to “Take your clothes off; it’s empowering,” and “Have casual sex; it’s empowering,” and if those who disagree with such messages can’t really articulate why, then we’ve got problems. If our top women leaders require forty-five minutes and the intellectual root canal work to merely suggest that taking off your clothes and playing with dildos in public is not the be-all and end-all of women’s happiness, and even they feel bad about having said anything against it - then, again, we’ve got serious problems. Either people believe in the bad girl as the only model, or they are simply too intimidated to challenge her rule.


You might wonder, as I did for some time, how the ‘Girls Gone Wild’ mentality has been so successful in setting the terms of the debate. Essentially, I discovered, the exhibitionists rule by intimidation, by making others feel that there is something wrong with them if they think sexuality should be private, or special. Are we not “sex-positive?”

Shalit, Wendy. Girls Gone Mild: Young Women Reclaim Self-Respect & Find It’s Not Bad to Be Good. Random House; New York. 2007. (pg. 206)


Nowhere is the politicization of dress more evident than in our deep-rooted belief that a girl or woman who undresses for the general public is “comfortable with her body,” whereas one who keeps her body hidden is “ashamed of it.” Thus, Halle Berry, who had said she would never do a nude scene, was roundly called “brave” when she finally bared her breasts for the movie ‘Swordfish’ in 2001. Never mind that she got paid more to disrobe than to remain clothed; stripping is always taken to be an inherently “brave” act, at least for women. Jennifer Aniston being named GQ’s first “woman of the year” was also supposedly a triumph for womankind, although predictably, unlike the “men of the year,” Aniston had to be “brave” and grace the cover topless. Even top-ranking women in the chess world have posed nude for the Russian ‘Playboy’ or ‘Maxim’ in the United States in order to advance their careers.

To repeat: Only women are called on to prove that they are “comfortable” in this way. There is no equivalent for men.

Shalit, Wendy. Girls Gone Mild: Young Women Reclaim Self-Respect & Find It’s Not Bad to Be Good. Random House; New York. 2007. (pg. 156)


It’s deplorable that sexually adventurous young women are constantly told they are “degrading themselves” by seeking out various experiences, that every bit of enjoyment eats away at some secret store of purity. This whole tradition–the idea that women need be preserved in glass so as not to “ruin” themselves, lest they diminish their sexual value by “giving it away”–restricts the lived autonomy of women in ways I can’t even begin to articulate. None of the slut-shaming makes sense unless you assume women live to give themselves to men in their purest possible form.

Kerry Howley (via thenewwomensmovement)

An older lady overheard my friends and I talking about my poly life.  When we could feel eyes on us, we turned around and stared at her.  She told me “well that sounds fun, honey, but you’re getting to the age where settling down will give you lifelong security.  If you stay on this path, sweetie, you’ll regret it when you get to my age.”

I’m 26 and I regret all the years I wasted listening to that slut-shaming.

(via sexpositiveodyssey)

(Source: misogynistshaming)


A man is supposed to view a date with a woman as a premeditated scheme for getting the most sex out of her. Everything he does, he judges in terms of one criterion - getting laid. He’s supposed to constantly pressure her to see how far he can get. She is his adversary, his opponent in battle, and he begins to view her as a prize, an object, not a person. While she’s dreaming about love, he’s thinking about how to conquer her.

-“Human Sexuality in a World of Diversity” by Spencer Rathus (et al), quoting a male college student (via makingfists)

welp…

(via wretchedoftheearth)


Reclaiming “Bitch”, Fighting “Slut”: Why I Call Myself a Bitch but not a Slut

a-room-owned-by-kiana:

For a long time after I decided I am a feminist, I strongly opposed the word “bitch” and for good reasons. They are as follows:

  • Society uses the word “bitch” for women that are assertive, bold, outspoken, unafraid of their sexuality, and/or are in positions of power. But when a man has all those qualities, he’s just a “strong” man.
  • Bitch is degrading to women, obviously. No one would call a man a “bitch” because it implies being annoying.

After a while, however, with the help of Tina Fey and Amy Poehler, I started thinking, “Well, if that’s society’s definition of a bitch, then yes I am a bitch! Bitches get stuff done!” And I, among many other feminists, started reclaiming it and using it. The same thing happened with the word “Queer” when the LGBTQ community started reclaiming it and not being afraid of what society calls them.

Don’t get me wrong - I still oppose it when men use that word for women. That is because it is still used (by society, at large) in a degrading manner. Those of you who would disagree with reclaiming the word “bitch” - I would love to hear why you think so.

Now, with the word “slut”- We all know about the “Slut Walk”. It’s a group of feminist women marching in the streets. Their mission is to reclaim the word, “Slut” and make a point that a woman can dress in a way that embraces her sexuality (supposedly, called “slutty” by societal standards) and that is not a bad thing; she does not deserve rape because of it. And I agree with that message! However, I, among many other feminists, disagree with reclaiming the word “slut”. I listened to Gail Dines (a feminist scholar) discuss this with one of the founders of the “Slut Walk” movement and I agree with her. Women reclaiming the word and calling themselves “sluts” only adds to the over-sexualization of women, to the emphasis of the sexual part of women. Of course, this is the whole debate of sexual-liberation vs sexual exploitation that plays into the pornography, prostitution, and other feminist debates of our time. But I personally would argue that a woman reclaiming the word “bitch” is implying that she is a strong assertive woman and not afraid of what society might call her for her power/strength. On the other hand, a woman calling herself a “slut” is only implying that she can be looked at as sexual being and that’s okay. It’s not okay, because although women are sexual beings, that is not all that they are. The word “Slut” has the idea of male-gaze written all over it.

Any other opinions?

Fantastic post!

‘Bitch’ and ‘slut’ are like the two sides of a coin - there really is no male equivalent for these terms, and both create double standards.

However, I think we can do so by first reclaiming the word ‘bitch’ - to define ourselves as assertive human beings. I feel that we should prioritize fighting the double standard that portrays powerful and strong women as shameful, while powerful and strong men are seen as ‘bosses.’ When women can be seen as powerful and strong without negative connotations, I think reclaiming ‘slut’ will be easier.

“On the other hand, a woman calling herself a “slut” is only implying that she can be looked at as sexual being and that’s okay. It’s not okay, because although women are sexual beings, that is not all that they are.”

Also, when using the common definition of slut, owning one’s sexuality is seen as an insult. I think if we properly reclaim ‘slut’ and call ourselves ‘sluts’, then in the process we can also reclaim that we are not solely sexual beings, although that may be a part of our identities.

Personally, I cannot prioritize which one we should reclaim first, but reclaiming the word ‘bitch’ is the one I feel is least problematic at this time in the feminism movement.


Asexuals: Who Are They and Why Are They Important?

sexreeducated:

Asexuality poses a challenge to some of our most fundamental beliefs about humans and their feelings. Yet, on this topic, we are mostly ignoramuses. Many Americans regard the prevailing assumptions about sex and sexuality as universal. They don’t appreciate the ways that these ideas have changed over the course of history. Even within the scientific community, the study of asexuality as an orientation is starkly underdeveloped.

Recently, I asked for suggestions for updates for the 40th anniversary edition of that classic book, Our Bodies, Ourselves. Kris suggested a new section on asexuality, and pointed readers to asexuality.org, the Asexual Visibility and Education Network. I checked it out - it is a terrific resource - and also started searching for academic papers.

The first thing I learned is that there is a startlingly small number of serious studies of asexuality. Type “asexual” into a database such as PsycInfo, and what spills out are mostly discussions of whether old people are sexual beings.

Only a few more comprehensive articles pop up. For example, a 2004 study in the Journal of Sex Research reported the results of a national sample of more than 18,000 British residents. About 1% described themselves as asexual.

For this topic, though, what should come first is some basic understanding of what the term asexual means. The best source I found on that, and the one I will refer to most often throughout the rest of this post, is a 2008 article by Kristin Scherrer published in the journal Sexualities. In addition to her thoughtful conceptual analysis of asexuality, Scherrer contributes some empirical grounding. With the help of asexuality.org, she recruited 102 asexuals who were willing to answer open-ended questions about their asexuality and how that related to the rest of their lives.

Here are some of the basics of what I’ve learned so far from Scherrer and others. I want to note, though, that our understandings may change as research and writing on this topic grows.

What ASEXUALITY Is

On its homepage, Asexuality.org defines an asexual as “a person who does not experience sexual attraction.” This is a definition about desire - how you feel, and not about sexual behavior - how you act.

Beyond the dimensions of feelings and behaviors is something broader - an asexual identity. There a process of self-examination involved in identifying as asexual. Importantly, though, an identity is not just personal - it is also social, cultural, and interpersonal. Asexuals who come together on asexuality.org to share experiences are building a community. They have the potential to engage in consciousness-raising and collective action, too. Health and mental health professionals, for instance, may be a little less quick to pathologize asexuality (see below) if there is a defined group of asexuals keeping the opinion leaders on their toes.

When the 102 asexuals in Scherrer’s study discussed the meaning of their own asexuality, they most often pointed to desires: They said they did not experience sexual attraction or desire. One of the participants, Jenn, said this:

• “I just don’t feel sexual attraction to people. I love the human form and can regard individuals as works of art and find people aesthetically pleasing, but I don’t ever want to come into sexual contact with even the most beautiful of people.”

Others, though, said they did feel sexual attraction but not the inclination to act on it. Sarah said this to the researcher:

• “I am sexually attracted to men but have no desire or need to engage in sexual or even non-sexual activity (cuddling, hand-holding, etc.).”

What asexuality Is NOT

1. Asexuality is not the same as sexual dysfunction.

If you are different from the norm, or what is perceived as the norm, you can count on the labeling police - and even some medical professionals - to tag you as dysfunctional. One of the great contributions of the web, and sites like asexuality.org, is that people can find others like them more readily than they ever could before. Comparing notes and experiences, they can find that aspects of their lives are shared, and - contrary to the conventional wisdom - are not at all undermining of their health or well-being.

Psychiatrists and psychologists sometimes see a lack of sexual desire as a symptom of an official disorder. Here, for example, is a description of Sexual Aversion Disorder: “Persistent or recurring aversion to or avoidance of sexual activity. The aversion must result in significant distress for the individual and is not better accounted for by another disorder or physical diagnosis. When presented with a sexual opportunity, the individual may experience panic attacks or extreme anxiety.” The important point here is that to count as a disorder, the experience must result in “significant distress.”

There is a problem in leaping from the fact of a lack of sexual desire to a label of a sexual disorder: You need to stop along the way to ask how asexuality is experienced in an individual’s life. If you are okay with it, then everyone else should back off and keep their pathological labels locked in their file cabinets.

2. Asexuality is not the same as celibacy.

From asexuality.org: “Unlike celibacy, which is a choice, asexuality is a sexual orientation. Asexual people have the same emotional needs as everybody else and are just as capable of forming intimate relationships.”

3. A disinterest in cuddling or other forms of physical affection is not a necessary part of asexuality.

Sarah (quoted above) said she had no interest in any kind of physical affection, not even hand-holding or cuddling. Others, though, do like those kinds of interactions. For instance, when asked to describe her ideal relationship, Rita said this:

• “The same as a ‘normal’ relationship, without the sex. We would be best friends, companions, biggest fans of each other, partners in financial, work, and social areas of our lives. I am very physical. I would like to be able to tackle my lover (as in, ‘I love him’, not as in ‘person I am currently having sex with’) to the ground, roll around until I pin him, then plant a kiss on his nose, snuggle into the crook of his arm, and talk about some random topic… without him getting an erection or entertaining hopes that this will lead to the removal of clothing or a march to the bedroom.”

4. A disinterest in romance is not a necessary part of asexuality.

Rita, the asexual person quoted just above, described an ideal relationship that was in many ways a romantic one. Other asexuals are uninterested in romance. Kisha, for instance, said this in response to the question about her ideal relationship:

• “I’ve already got a friendship that feels a lot like my ideal relationship. We have a ton of common interests…We laugh, we think the same, we never fight or cause any burdens to each other…That’s all I want, just great friendships. I don’t need attraction or anything physical.”

Asexuals who are romantic often identify as heterosexual, gay or lesbian, or bisexual. For those who are “aromantic,” those distinctions seem irrelevant. Noting that the gender of the other person was unimportant to her, Nora said, “I am attracted to personality.” Mona added, “The things I find attractive, I find attractive in both sexes.”

5. A lack of pleasure from your own body is not a necessary part of asexuality.

Some asexuals consider masturbation a sexual act and are uninterested in it. Others, such as Gloria, have a different perspective:

• “I do not have any desire to have sex with another person. I masturbate at times but I don’t connect it with anything sexual. I know it sounds like a contradiction but it’s just something I do every now and then.”

Why Asexuality is Important

Taking asexuality seriously is a very big deal. To document a sizable number of people who do not experience sexual attraction is to challenge one of the most fundamental assumptions of contemporary society - that sexuality is pervasive, a given, an essential part of what it is to be human.

When I wrote previously about Sex and the Single Person, I emphasized how important it is to take the long view of sex and sexuality and appreciate how our assumptions have changed over the course of history. In contemporary Western societies, sexual experiences (and lots of them) are believed to be a defining feature of the good life. That’s great for people who love having sex and can readily find partners. Others, though, such as the involuntarily celibate, or the happily asexual, are likely to feel marginalized.

-


For Christian women, particularly in more conservative traditions, one of the most difficult barriers to feminist consciousness is the identification of sin with anger and pride, and virtue with humility and self-abnegation. Although this doctrine of sin and virtue supposedly is for ‘all Christians,’ it becomes, for women, an ideology that reinforces female subjugation and lack of self-esteem. Women become ‘Christ-like’ by having no self of their own. They become the ‘suffering servants’ by accepting male abuse and exploitation. Women are made to feel profoundly guilty and diffident about even the smallest sense of self-affirmation. They fear the beginning steps of asking who they are and what they want to do, rather than ‘putting others first.’

Rosemary Radford Ruether,

Sexism and God-Talk: Toward a Feminist Theology

(via discosherpa)