Last night I had a dream that has me contemplative today. I dreamt that I demanded of a man that his ass was mine, and he agreed. He was scared, and I promised to use my smallest strap-on, but he knew that I wouldn't hurt him. I woke up rather aroused.
Anal penetration is a scary thought to many people. I've only done it to one man, my husband, and I rather enjoy it. I enjoy giving manual and oral stimulation as foreplay, but not so much as an alternative to PIV sex. Then again, it's rare for me to be satisfied by only receiving manual or oral stimulation as well.
I can understand the fear. My first experiences of receiving anal penetration were extremely pleasurable. I will admit that my first time was not a time of full consent, as I was not asked, and lacked the imagination to dream that it was going to happen. Romance novels really don't detail anal sex. It's taboo, and that's where I learned much of what I knew about sex before having it. Truthfully, had I known his intentions, I would have been too squeamish and icked out to consent, and I would not have learned about how good it can feel.
I'm glad I had a pleasurable initiation to anal sex, because JRS and MZ would have completely ruined it for me. They taught me that anal sex hurts. Ramming in through tight muscles only causes pain and injuries. Rather than pleasure, the repeated thrusting causes irritation. It sucks.
Happily, my husband knows how to ease his way in, to ensure that there is adequate foreplay and lubrication to make sure that it only feels good. I used to tense up some, and now I don't. Talking through the initial penetration helps greatly. Anal penetration requires control, gentleness, and slowness.
Unlike that produced by vaginal sex, the anus does not produce its own lubrication. I've noticed throughout my life that fear, irritation, and discomfort can all cause me to produce lubrication. Wetness does not necessarily correlate with desire. Some guys tell themselves that because a woman was wet, that she must have wanted it, no matter how much she otherwise resisted. That idea is completely false. The vagina lubricates itself to prevent injury. Wet does not mean willing.
For example, I notice that my vagina lubricates itself during routine gynecological examinations, which are awkward and uncomfortable. I get no joy from them. I am not turned on by them. They are disconnected from sex. And yet I am wet because of them. It's protection, not desire.
The anus is injured through unwanted penetration (and clumsiness as well), and does not have a built in protective device. In my experience, anal rape is much more physically painful than vaginal rape. Emotionally, not so much.
And so I understand the fear of anal penetration, willing and unwilling. Done wrongly, it hurts like hell. Done wrongly, it can hurt for days.
And, having given anal penetration, I understand the joy of giving. When I'm doing it right, my husband is incapable of speech, can only moan and whimper his pleasure. It gives me a sense of power over him. And I understand that he feels a sense of power over me when I moan and whimper under him, but that power is mutual, because he also receives pleasure from being inside me.
And I'm a little sad that no one else has ever trusted me enough to try it with me.
Showing posts with label consent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label consent. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Truth, Consent, and Betrayal
Today I'm not responding to anyone else's work, instead I'm working on understanding pieces of the non-monogamous relationship I've been part of.
Not every aspect of our relationship was fully consensual. My husband and I agreed that unless we were in an otherwise exclusive relationship, a barrier method was necessary in order ensure that sex was as safe as possible. After all, not everyone who has an STD knows it, and it would be terrible to pass along an STD to the other.
My husband kept to that agreement. I didn't.
Early on, my lover asked that we forgo condoms, and despite my husband's protests to the both of us, I agreed. I could try to justify myself, but really I betrayed his trust and our agreement, and that is that.
There have been some pretty dire consequences to that decision. I switched birth control a couple of times, settled on the pill because I knew my husband and I would be trying for a baby soon, and, after several abrupt schedule changes/holidays, was unable to be as consistent as necessary to prevent pregnancy. I got pregnant at roughly the time my lover left town for an extended time, a couple of weeks before my husband and I planned trying.
I was pregnant, and paternity was in question. That was NOT supposed to happen. I felt like a whore.
Because of the uncertainty and because I had drank heavily the first few weeks of pregnancy, before we officially started trying, my husband and I discussed abortion. We quickly rejected that option.
The uncertainty took a toll on our relationship, and the baby's birth did not answer the paternity question with absolute certainty. The baby was slightly overdue, which we kind of expected, and was darker than previous babies. Of course the person the baby most resembles is me. Blood type was no help either, as my husband and my lover share the same one.
Eventually, because the uncertainty continued taking a toll on our relationship, we got a paternity test. It was unable to exclude my husband as the father, which in DNA test parameters meant that unless my lover shared the same genetic markers as my husband, then my husband was indeed the father.
A couple of years later, a routine PAP smear came back irregular, revealing that at some point in my life I contracted HPV. I felt incredibly dirty.
Because HPV can take years to result in an abnormal PAP and can be passed without symptoms, I will never know for certain when I contracted it, or from whom.
A simple apology is not enough in cases like these.
I fully accepted the blame for my part in betraying my husband. My lover and I did not have his consent for forgoing condoms.
My counselor has revealed that I have a pattern of taking on too much responsibility, and that I should trust others to take on their share too. So now the question remains: how much responsibility for this betrayal has my lover taken? I'm not the only one who did wrong.
Not every aspect of our relationship was fully consensual. My husband and I agreed that unless we were in an otherwise exclusive relationship, a barrier method was necessary in order ensure that sex was as safe as possible. After all, not everyone who has an STD knows it, and it would be terrible to pass along an STD to the other.
My husband kept to that agreement. I didn't.
Early on, my lover asked that we forgo condoms, and despite my husband's protests to the both of us, I agreed. I could try to justify myself, but really I betrayed his trust and our agreement, and that is that.
There have been some pretty dire consequences to that decision. I switched birth control a couple of times, settled on the pill because I knew my husband and I would be trying for a baby soon, and, after several abrupt schedule changes/holidays, was unable to be as consistent as necessary to prevent pregnancy. I got pregnant at roughly the time my lover left town for an extended time, a couple of weeks before my husband and I planned trying.
I was pregnant, and paternity was in question. That was NOT supposed to happen. I felt like a whore.
Because of the uncertainty and because I had drank heavily the first few weeks of pregnancy, before we officially started trying, my husband and I discussed abortion. We quickly rejected that option.
The uncertainty took a toll on our relationship, and the baby's birth did not answer the paternity question with absolute certainty. The baby was slightly overdue, which we kind of expected, and was darker than previous babies. Of course the person the baby most resembles is me. Blood type was no help either, as my husband and my lover share the same one.
Eventually, because the uncertainty continued taking a toll on our relationship, we got a paternity test. It was unable to exclude my husband as the father, which in DNA test parameters meant that unless my lover shared the same genetic markers as my husband, then my husband was indeed the father.
A couple of years later, a routine PAP smear came back irregular, revealing that at some point in my life I contracted HPV. I felt incredibly dirty.
Because HPV can take years to result in an abnormal PAP and can be passed without symptoms, I will never know for certain when I contracted it, or from whom.
A simple apology is not enough in cases like these.
I fully accepted the blame for my part in betraying my husband. My lover and I did not have his consent for forgoing condoms.
My counselor has revealed that I have a pattern of taking on too much responsibility, and that I should trust others to take on their share too. So now the question remains: how much responsibility for this betrayal has my lover taken? I'm not the only one who did wrong.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
On a Rowboat
Responding to: “An Old Enemy in a New Outfit: How Date Rape Became Gray Rape and Why it Matters” by Lisa Jervis.
Today is a better day than yesterday, and so I'm tackling a memory I've not wanted to tackle. But in the rough seas of my emotions, today I remembered to imagine a rowboat, and then I realized I needed oars, and the Room of Requirement in my soul provided them. Some people would believe that I have called out to a higher power, but whose metaphor is it? I've caught a glimpse of land, and I just have to make my way there. Yesterday it was all I could do to tread water, and all I saw was darkness.
(page 163) [Gray rape is] “…a disgusting, destructive, victim blaming cultural construct that encourages women to hate ourselves, doubt ourselves, blame ourselves, take responsibility for other people’s criminal behavior, fear our own desires, and distrust our own instincts.”
Once upon a time in my late teens/early twenties, I read an essay that described the trauma of another teen girl who had frozen up and not resisted the advances of some boy. She appealed to an older woman, asking for understanding that the girl had been raped, that the memories were crushing her, and the older woman said "you raped yourself."
(page 166) “This is how the language of ‘gray rape’ accelerates the victim-blaming cycle. The very concept the phrase relies on—that a supposed gray area of communication or intoxications means that you cannot trust your own memories, instincts, or experiences—is designed to exploit the stigma and fear that fuel the guilt, shame, and denial.”
And while I was reeling, trying to understand what had happened between me and JRS, I started wondering if I too had raped myself. Could it all have been some huge, almost cultural, misunderstanding? Was it only rape in my own mind, and I the perpetrator? And, because of that essay and the comments of a few others, that's what I chalked it up to: my failing.
(page 164) “…everything about so-called gray rape seems awfully familiar: The experience is confusing, makes victims feel guilty and ashamed, and leaves them thinking they could and should have done something differently to prevent the attack.”
Part of my misunderstanding is that I had enjoyed kissing and fondling with JRS before he bulldozed me into sex--sex I wasn't ready for, sex I didn't want.
(page 169) “But here’s the thing: flirting and hook-ups do not cause rape. Rapists and the culture that creates them—with its mixed messages and double standards—cause rape.”
It took more than a year to come to terms with my experience and to move past it. I buried the experience, never quite satisfied with it. I had an easier time recognizing what MZ did as rape. After all, I said no over and over and over with him. He just didn't listen.
(page 164) “…any therapist, sexual assault counselor, rape survivor, or close friend or family member of a rape survivor knows that feelings of guilt, shame, self-blame, and denial are common almost to the point of inevitability, no matter what the circumstances of the crime.”
But I didn't resist with JRS. How could it be rape? At least, that's what I thought at the time.
(page 165) “When the culture teaches you that lack of consent is measured only in active, physical resistance, when your actions are questioned if your date refuses to respect ‘no,’ you’re going to have a hard time calling rape by its real name.”
I've unburied those memories, and I am ashamed that I blamed myself. I betrayed myself in framing JRS as a colossal misunderstanding. It was JRS who refused to pull his head out of his ass and recognize that something was horribly wrong--that I was not willing, that I was not cooperating, that I was just enduring, that I was frozen, that his attention was not welcome.
(page 166) “Despite gray rape proponents’ eagerness to use their phenomenon to shift responsibility from rapists to victims, the fact remains that the reluctance in question is a symptom of the very social disease—sexism, misogyny, men’s entitlement to women’s bodies, and the idea that sexual interaction involves women’s guarding the gates to the land of the sexual goodies as men try to cajole, manipulate, and force their way in—that enables rape in the first place.”
JRS raped me. I did not rape myself.
And I've filed that essay into the "WTF? Lies people say to enable rapists" drawer in my head.
Today is a better day than yesterday, and so I'm tackling a memory I've not wanted to tackle. But in the rough seas of my emotions, today I remembered to imagine a rowboat, and then I realized I needed oars, and the Room of Requirement in my soul provided them. Some people would believe that I have called out to a higher power, but whose metaphor is it? I've caught a glimpse of land, and I just have to make my way there. Yesterday it was all I could do to tread water, and all I saw was darkness.
(page 163) [Gray rape is] “…a disgusting, destructive, victim blaming cultural construct that encourages women to hate ourselves, doubt ourselves, blame ourselves, take responsibility for other people’s criminal behavior, fear our own desires, and distrust our own instincts.”
Once upon a time in my late teens/early twenties, I read an essay that described the trauma of another teen girl who had frozen up and not resisted the advances of some boy. She appealed to an older woman, asking for understanding that the girl had been raped, that the memories were crushing her, and the older woman said "you raped yourself."
(page 166) “This is how the language of ‘gray rape’ accelerates the victim-blaming cycle. The very concept the phrase relies on—that a supposed gray area of communication or intoxications means that you cannot trust your own memories, instincts, or experiences—is designed to exploit the stigma and fear that fuel the guilt, shame, and denial.”
And while I was reeling, trying to understand what had happened between me and JRS, I started wondering if I too had raped myself. Could it all have been some huge, almost cultural, misunderstanding? Was it only rape in my own mind, and I the perpetrator? And, because of that essay and the comments of a few others, that's what I chalked it up to: my failing.
(page 164) “…everything about so-called gray rape seems awfully familiar: The experience is confusing, makes victims feel guilty and ashamed, and leaves them thinking they could and should have done something differently to prevent the attack.”
Part of my misunderstanding is that I had enjoyed kissing and fondling with JRS before he bulldozed me into sex--sex I wasn't ready for, sex I didn't want.
(page 169) “But here’s the thing: flirting and hook-ups do not cause rape. Rapists and the culture that creates them—with its mixed messages and double standards—cause rape.”
It took more than a year to come to terms with my experience and to move past it. I buried the experience, never quite satisfied with it. I had an easier time recognizing what MZ did as rape. After all, I said no over and over and over with him. He just didn't listen.
(page 164) “…any therapist, sexual assault counselor, rape survivor, or close friend or family member of a rape survivor knows that feelings of guilt, shame, self-blame, and denial are common almost to the point of inevitability, no matter what the circumstances of the crime.”
But I didn't resist with JRS. How could it be rape? At least, that's what I thought at the time.
(page 165) “When the culture teaches you that lack of consent is measured only in active, physical resistance, when your actions are questioned if your date refuses to respect ‘no,’ you’re going to have a hard time calling rape by its real name.”
I've unburied those memories, and I am ashamed that I blamed myself. I betrayed myself in framing JRS as a colossal misunderstanding. It was JRS who refused to pull his head out of his ass and recognize that something was horribly wrong--that I was not willing, that I was not cooperating, that I was just enduring, that I was frozen, that his attention was not welcome.
(page 166) “Despite gray rape proponents’ eagerness to use their phenomenon to shift responsibility from rapists to victims, the fact remains that the reluctance in question is a symptom of the very social disease—sexism, misogyny, men’s entitlement to women’s bodies, and the idea that sexual interaction involves women’s guarding the gates to the land of the sexual goodies as men try to cajole, manipulate, and force their way in—that enables rape in the first place.”
JRS raped me. I did not rape myself.
And I've filed that essay into the "WTF? Lies people say to enable rapists" drawer in my head.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Reconnecting
I'm back to blogging, hopefully on a near-daily basis. I need the creative urge, which has been sorely lacking this past month as all the negatives overwhelmed me.
Today I'm responding to a post from kateharding.net about approaching women.
"Human connection, love, romance: there is nothing wrong with these yearnings."
It is human to want connection, love, and sometimes romance. But even when I desire love and/or romance, I don't want that with just anyone. It has to be with someone of MY choosing. Sometimes I may want a conversation with a person who doesn't trigger my creep alarm, but that doesn't mean that I want physical closeness. And even if I want physical closeness, that doesn't always mean that I want sex.
And sometimes I just want to be left alone.
"Those women do not want to be approached, no matter how nice you are or how much you’d like to date them. Okay? That’s their right. Don’t get pissy about it."
If I'm not receptive to being approached, and you take it personally, I will forever more consider you a jerk that I don't want to know. Because you're acting like a jerk. I don't care if you're hot, if you volunteer for a feminist organization, or whatever makes you believe that you're all that. When you get mad because I don't want company, then you've blown it.
"Because a man who ignores a woman’s NO in a non-sexual setting is more likely to ignore NO in a sexual setting, as well."
When I say no, it should be respected. I should not have to apologize for saying no, and if you feel that I should, then you are marking yourself as threatening. You are revealing yourself as someone I cannot trust to respect my boundaries or me.
In relationships, there is always some give and take, and depending upon the levels of trust and commitment, we can discuss or negotiate boundaries. But that is in an established relationship built upon shared trust, reciprocity, and respect.
Only through time and effort can you demonstrate that you are someone who will never rape me, which is my requirement for sharing my body. If I don't trust that you will never rape me, then I will not engage with you sexually.
"Don’t rape. Nor should you commit these similar but less severe offenses: don’t assault. Don’t grope. Don’t constrain. Don’t brandish. Don’t expose yourself. Don’t threaten with physical violence. Don’t threaten with sexual violence.
"Shouldn’t this go without saying? Of course it should. Sadly, that’s not the world I live in. You may be beginning to realize that it’s not the world you live in, either"
Because sadly, too many people do not recognize that we live in a culture that condones rape. So now it's time for a re-posting of the "Don't Rape" list that pops up from time to time around the Web.
A reminder, both men and women can rape, and both men and women can be victims of a rapist. This is written about not raping women, but it applies to everyone.
A lot has been said about how to prevent rape.
Women should learn self-defense.
Women should lock themselves in their houses after dark.
Women shouldn’t have long hair and women shouldn’t wear short skirts.
Women shouldn’t leave drinks unattended.
Fuck, they shouldn’t dare to get drunk at all.
Instead of that bullshit, how about:
If a woman is drunk, don’t rape her.
If a woman is walking alone at night, don’t rape her.
If a women is drugged and unconscious, don’t rape her.
If a woman is wearing a short skirt, don’t rape her.
If a woman is jogging in a park at5 am , don’t rape her.
If a woman looks like your ex-girlfriend you’re still hung up on, don’t rape her.
If a woman is asleep in her bed, don’t rape her.
If a woman is asleep in your bed, don’t rape her.
If a woman is doing her laundry, don’t rape her.
If a woman is in a coma, don’t rape her.
If a woman changes her mind in the middle of or about a particular activity, don’t rape her.
If a woman has repeatedly refused a certain activity, don’t rape her.
If a woman is not yet a woman, but a child, don’t rape her.
If your girlfriend or wife is not in the mood, don’t rape her.
If your step-daughter is watching TV, don’t rape her.
If you break into a house and find a woman there, don’t rape her.
If your friend thinks it’s okay to rape someone, tell him it’s not, and that he’s not your friend.
If your “friend” tells you he raped someone, report him to the police.
If your frat-brother or another guy at the party tells you there’s an unconscious woman upstairs and it’s your turn, don’t rape her, call the police and tell the guy he’s a rapist.
Tell your sons, god-sons, nephews, grandsons, sons of friends it’s not okay to rape someone.
Don’t tell your women friends how to be safe and avoid rape.
Don’t imply that she could have avoided it if she’d only done/not done x.
Don’t imply that it’s in any way her fault.
Don’t let silence imply agreement when someone tells you he “got some” with the drunk girl.
Don’t perpetuate a culture that tells you that you have no control over or responsibility for your actions. You can, too, help yourself.
If you agree, re-post it. It’s that important.
Today I'm responding to a post from kateharding.net about approaching women.
"Human connection, love, romance: there is nothing wrong with these yearnings."
It is human to want connection, love, and sometimes romance. But even when I desire love and/or romance, I don't want that with just anyone. It has to be with someone of MY choosing. Sometimes I may want a conversation with a person who doesn't trigger my creep alarm, but that doesn't mean that I want physical closeness. And even if I want physical closeness, that doesn't always mean that I want sex.
And sometimes I just want to be left alone.
"Those women do not want to be approached, no matter how nice you are or how much you’d like to date them. Okay? That’s their right. Don’t get pissy about it."
If I'm not receptive to being approached, and you take it personally, I will forever more consider you a jerk that I don't want to know. Because you're acting like a jerk. I don't care if you're hot, if you volunteer for a feminist organization, or whatever makes you believe that you're all that. When you get mad because I don't want company, then you've blown it.
"Because a man who ignores a woman’s NO in a non-sexual setting is more likely to ignore NO in a sexual setting, as well."
When I say no, it should be respected. I should not have to apologize for saying no, and if you feel that I should, then you are marking yourself as threatening. You are revealing yourself as someone I cannot trust to respect my boundaries or me.
In relationships, there is always some give and take, and depending upon the levels of trust and commitment, we can discuss or negotiate boundaries. But that is in an established relationship built upon shared trust, reciprocity, and respect.
Only through time and effort can you demonstrate that you are someone who will never rape me, which is my requirement for sharing my body. If I don't trust that you will never rape me, then I will not engage with you sexually.
"Don’t rape. Nor should you commit these similar but less severe offenses: don’t assault. Don’t grope. Don’t constrain. Don’t brandish. Don’t expose yourself. Don’t threaten with physical violence. Don’t threaten with sexual violence.
"Shouldn’t this go without saying? Of course it should. Sadly, that’s not the world I live in. You may be beginning to realize that it’s not the world you live in, either"
Because sadly, too many people do not recognize that we live in a culture that condones rape. So now it's time for a re-posting of the "Don't Rape" list that pops up from time to time around the Web.
A reminder, both men and women can rape, and both men and women can be victims of a rapist. This is written about not raping women, but it applies to everyone.
A lot has been said about how to prevent rape.
Women should learn self-defense.
Women should lock themselves in their houses after dark.
Women shouldn’t have long hair and women shouldn’t wear short skirts.
Women shouldn’t leave drinks unattended.
Fuck, they shouldn’t dare to get drunk at all.
Instead of that bullshit, how about:
If a woman is drunk, don’t rape her.
If a woman is walking alone at night, don’t rape her.
If a women is drugged and unconscious, don’t rape her.
If a woman is wearing a short skirt, don’t rape her.
If a woman is jogging in a park at
If a woman looks like your ex-girlfriend you’re still hung up on, don’t rape her.
If a woman is asleep in her bed, don’t rape her.
If a woman is asleep in your bed, don’t rape her.
If a woman is doing her laundry, don’t rape her.
If a woman is in a coma, don’t rape her.
If a woman changes her mind in the middle of or about a particular activity, don’t rape her.
If a woman has repeatedly refused a certain activity, don’t rape her.
If a woman is not yet a woman, but a child, don’t rape her.
If your girlfriend or wife is not in the mood, don’t rape her.
If your step-daughter is watching TV, don’t rape her.
If you break into a house and find a woman there, don’t rape her.
If your friend thinks it’s okay to rape someone, tell him it’s not, and that he’s not your friend.
If your “friend” tells you he raped someone, report him to the police.
If your frat-brother or another guy at the party tells you there’s an unconscious woman upstairs and it’s your turn, don’t rape her, call the police and tell the guy he’s a rapist.
Tell your sons, god-sons, nephews, grandsons, sons of friends it’s not okay to rape someone.
Don’t tell your women friends how to be safe and avoid rape.
Don’t imply that she could have avoided it if she’d only done/not done x.
Don’t imply that it’s in any way her fault.
Don’t let silence imply agreement when someone tells you he “got some” with the drunk girl.
Don’t perpetuate a culture that tells you that you have no control over or responsibility for your actions. You can, too, help yourself.
If you agree, re-post it. It’s that important.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Fantasy
Responding to "The Fantasy of Acceptable 'Non-Consent': Why the Female Sexual Submissive Scares Us (and Why She Shouldn't)" by Stacey May Fowles.
Last night I found myself unable to sleep because of a rather vivid sexual fantasy I couldn't stop thinking about. The kind of fantasy I had is considered a rape fantasy by the mainstream lexicon. It came complete with a safe word.
My fantasy involved my partner(s) trespassing boundaries that I normally hold as unbreakable, and doing so in a forceful manner. I may even ask for my fantasy to become true someday. Who knows? The vulnerability and trust required are enormous.
I even recognize that my fantasy may have more to do about destroying certain memories, but that's less important than the pleasure I hope to receive.
I would say that my fantasy is tiptoeing into the world of BDSM.
(page 121) "For BDSM to exist safely, it has to be founded on a constant proclamation of enthusiastic consent, which mainstream sexuality has systematically dismantled."
Something I've just recognized, more by accident than anything, is that I'm not sure MZ would consider himself a rapist. And yet, I clearly and repeatedly told him no. There is a cultural narrative that no is just a yes in disguise so the girl can think she's not a whore, and that men just need to keep going unless the girl puts up a fight. Never mind that she might be scared you'll just rape her more violently.
And here I am fantasizing about something that looks like rape from the outside, but because I'll be the one requesting the activities, it's not. I'll be asking for a mild degree of violence, for some of my normal needs to be ignored, and for me to be restrained and to submit to activities that could be considered degrading.
But I have full and utmost confidence that nothing will happen without enthusiastic consent.
(page 120) "...by it's very nature BDSM is constantly about consent. Of course, it's language and rules differ significantly from vanilla sex scenes, but the very existence of a safe word is the ultimate in preventing violation--it suggests that at any moment, regardless of expectations of interpretations on the part of either party, the act can and will end."
Ultimately, I would be in control the entire time, able to stop everything with a single utterance.
When I was raped, I had no control. I had no agency. I was violated. My humanity was rendered moot. I didn't matter.
Should this fantasy come to fruition, I will matter. I will have the power. I will have control and agency, despite appearances to the contrary.
And, in all honesty, I don't care if the rest of the world finds it acceptable. I do.
Last night I found myself unable to sleep because of a rather vivid sexual fantasy I couldn't stop thinking about. The kind of fantasy I had is considered a rape fantasy by the mainstream lexicon. It came complete with a safe word.
My fantasy involved my partner(s) trespassing boundaries that I normally hold as unbreakable, and doing so in a forceful manner. I may even ask for my fantasy to become true someday. Who knows? The vulnerability and trust required are enormous.
I even recognize that my fantasy may have more to do about destroying certain memories, but that's less important than the pleasure I hope to receive.
I would say that my fantasy is tiptoeing into the world of BDSM.
(page 121) "For BDSM to exist safely, it has to be founded on a constant proclamation of enthusiastic consent, which mainstream sexuality has systematically dismantled."
Something I've just recognized, more by accident than anything, is that I'm not sure MZ would consider himself a rapist. And yet, I clearly and repeatedly told him no. There is a cultural narrative that no is just a yes in disguise so the girl can think she's not a whore, and that men just need to keep going unless the girl puts up a fight. Never mind that she might be scared you'll just rape her more violently.
And here I am fantasizing about something that looks like rape from the outside, but because I'll be the one requesting the activities, it's not. I'll be asking for a mild degree of violence, for some of my normal needs to be ignored, and for me to be restrained and to submit to activities that could be considered degrading.
But I have full and utmost confidence that nothing will happen without enthusiastic consent.
(page 120) "...by it's very nature BDSM is constantly about consent. Of course, it's language and rules differ significantly from vanilla sex scenes, but the very existence of a safe word is the ultimate in preventing violation--it suggests that at any moment, regardless of expectations of interpretations on the part of either party, the act can and will end."
Ultimately, I would be in control the entire time, able to stop everything with a single utterance.
When I was raped, I had no control. I had no agency. I was violated. My humanity was rendered moot. I didn't matter.
Should this fantasy come to fruition, I will matter. I will have the power. I will have control and agency, despite appearances to the contrary.
And, in all honesty, I don't care if the rest of the world finds it acceptable. I do.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Sex Ed
Responding to "Real Sex Education" by Cara Kulwicki.
My recent illness has resulted in some discomfort for me, in that my immune system was not capable of handling sex, which I did not realize at the time. Now I'm struggling with bacterial vaginitis and a yeast infection, neither of which are fun at all. Sigh. I was thinking about when I first learned about yeast infections and bacterial vaginitis in an academic setting, and it wasn't until a college level human sexuality course that sexually influenced, but not transmitted, problems were covered. In high school, we learned about the STDs, but not more mundane infections.
I really don't remember much about what I learned in high school. It was a fairly short unit. I do know that we covered condoms, and I assume other birth control methods. My state did not accept abstinence-only funds.
(page 305) "Real sex education requires, in addition to teaching about protection, teaching sex as a normal and healthy part of life that is varied in terms of both preferred partners an preferred acts. Real sex education teaches that sex is more than heterosexual intercourse and should be consensual and pleasurable for all participants."
It was in college that the answer for "Why do kids have sex?" was posed in class, and the first respondent said "Because it feels good." That actually stopped what was supposed to be a lengthier discussion, as everyone just nodded and realized that no matter what other rationalization there may be, that was the most compelling reason to have sex. Because it feels good. There doesn't need to be another reason. It feels good.
At least, it should. If it doesn't, then something is wrong.
(page 307) "...Once you remove pleasure from sex, it has no purpose. Non-heterosexual sex cannot result in procreation, so what's the point? This is the only thing that religious fundamentalists and abstinence-only educators are right about--when arguing that sex is not or should not be about pleasure, gay and lesbian sex does indeed seem rather odd and even wrong.
"This thinking positions sex for pleasure as a waste of time, rather than as an activity that is itself often productive and important to those of all sexual orientations. Such limited education is invalidating to huge number of people, an erasure of their sexual desires and experiences. And the most-affected people are those who are no straight men."
Procreation is not the reason I have sex. I have children, but they are more a side-effect of sex rather than the intent. Which is not to say that I never intended to have children, just that no matter how much I may have wanted to conceive at the time, I did not have sex simply to conceive. No matter how much I may have wanted to conceive, I only had sex when I wanted to, because I wanted sex.
Gay and lesbian sex is not strange or abhorrent, it is about pleasure, and sometimes about love and intimacy. When sex is only about procreation, it seems bizarre that infertile or elderly people would indulge. It seems bizarre that I would use contraception, let alone get an IUD, with that logic. Sex is much more than procreation or even the potential to procreate.
(page 308) "Knowing that sex is normal, healthy, and not uniform also encourages people to learn what is most enjoyable for them, and how to establish sexual boundaries....Once women, who are most likely to be taught otherwise, know that they are supposed to enjoy sex and might not enjoy certain kinds of sex, they also generally learn to start asking for what they want and feeling more confident in expressing what they don't."
Establishing boundaries takes confidence and practice. I have boundaries, especially about touching. I have boundaries that are not concrete, but that change with my physical reality for the moment. What may feel good one day may not feel good the next. For the next week, my boundary is absolutely no vaginal sex while my body recovers. Might I have other sex? It's possible, but not definite.
Understanding that boundaries lead to a healthier relationship to both yourself and others is important. Understanding that boundaries may be fluid, but that no means no and only yes means yes, makes exploring and discovering boundaries easier on everyone involved.
(page 309) "Many men (and women!) don't understand what rape is. That doesn't mean that men who rape fail to understand when the woman has not fully and enthusiastically consented or when they're committing an act that is wrong--they simply fail or refuse to recognize that what they're doing actually falls under that scary word no one wants applied to them."
It's not a good feeling to realize that your advances were unwanted, though enough people in the world do in fact consent without wanting the sex, for myriad of reasons, including wanting to not reject their beloved. There is a difference between consenting despite not being enthused and not consenting.
(page 309) "The goal is that enthusiastic consent models will help to change the thinking from 'sex when someone says no and fights back is wrong' to 'sex when someone doesn't openly and enthusiastically want it is wrong.'"
So what about sex where one partner consents (without coercion) despite not really wanting it? I guess that all depends on why. Is the less-than-enthusiastic sex a gift? Is it some kind of sacrifice or payment? Is it a promise for better, more enthusiastic sex later? Is it a hope for more initiation from a partner who rarely initiates? Is it love? Is it comfort? Is it a struggle for conception?
Relationships are built on compromise and compassion, and sometimes sex can be a compassionate (rather than passionate) act.
But this whole exploration of non-enthusiastic but otherwise definite consent is dependent upon a lack of coercion and abuse.
(page 309) "...We do have a responsibility, particularly to young women, to give them the tools they need to recognize abuse."
And one of the tools to recognize abuse is to recognize the difference between consent freely given and coercion.
My recent illness has resulted in some discomfort for me, in that my immune system was not capable of handling sex, which I did not realize at the time. Now I'm struggling with bacterial vaginitis and a yeast infection, neither of which are fun at all. Sigh. I was thinking about when I first learned about yeast infections and bacterial vaginitis in an academic setting, and it wasn't until a college level human sexuality course that sexually influenced, but not transmitted, problems were covered. In high school, we learned about the STDs, but not more mundane infections.
I really don't remember much about what I learned in high school. It was a fairly short unit. I do know that we covered condoms, and I assume other birth control methods. My state did not accept abstinence-only funds.
(page 305) "Real sex education requires, in addition to teaching about protection, teaching sex as a normal and healthy part of life that is varied in terms of both preferred partners an preferred acts. Real sex education teaches that sex is more than heterosexual intercourse and should be consensual and pleasurable for all participants."
It was in college that the answer for "Why do kids have sex?" was posed in class, and the first respondent said "Because it feels good." That actually stopped what was supposed to be a lengthier discussion, as everyone just nodded and realized that no matter what other rationalization there may be, that was the most compelling reason to have sex. Because it feels good. There doesn't need to be another reason. It feels good.
At least, it should. If it doesn't, then something is wrong.
(page 307) "...Once you remove pleasure from sex, it has no purpose. Non-heterosexual sex cannot result in procreation, so what's the point? This is the only thing that religious fundamentalists and abstinence-only educators are right about--when arguing that sex is not or should not be about pleasure, gay and lesbian sex does indeed seem rather odd and even wrong.
"This thinking positions sex for pleasure as a waste of time, rather than as an activity that is itself often productive and important to those of all sexual orientations. Such limited education is invalidating to huge number of people, an erasure of their sexual desires and experiences. And the most-affected people are those who are no straight men."
Procreation is not the reason I have sex. I have children, but they are more a side-effect of sex rather than the intent. Which is not to say that I never intended to have children, just that no matter how much I may have wanted to conceive at the time, I did not have sex simply to conceive. No matter how much I may have wanted to conceive, I only had sex when I wanted to, because I wanted sex.
Gay and lesbian sex is not strange or abhorrent, it is about pleasure, and sometimes about love and intimacy. When sex is only about procreation, it seems bizarre that infertile or elderly people would indulge. It seems bizarre that I would use contraception, let alone get an IUD, with that logic. Sex is much more than procreation or even the potential to procreate.
(page 308) "Knowing that sex is normal, healthy, and not uniform also encourages people to learn what is most enjoyable for them, and how to establish sexual boundaries....Once women, who are most likely to be taught otherwise, know that they are supposed to enjoy sex and might not enjoy certain kinds of sex, they also generally learn to start asking for what they want and feeling more confident in expressing what they don't."
Establishing boundaries takes confidence and practice. I have boundaries, especially about touching. I have boundaries that are not concrete, but that change with my physical reality for the moment. What may feel good one day may not feel good the next. For the next week, my boundary is absolutely no vaginal sex while my body recovers. Might I have other sex? It's possible, but not definite.
Understanding that boundaries lead to a healthier relationship to both yourself and others is important. Understanding that boundaries may be fluid, but that no means no and only yes means yes, makes exploring and discovering boundaries easier on everyone involved.
(page 309) "Many men (and women!) don't understand what rape is. That doesn't mean that men who rape fail to understand when the woman has not fully and enthusiastically consented or when they're committing an act that is wrong--they simply fail or refuse to recognize that what they're doing actually falls under that scary word no one wants applied to them."
It's not a good feeling to realize that your advances were unwanted, though enough people in the world do in fact consent without wanting the sex, for myriad of reasons, including wanting to not reject their beloved. There is a difference between consenting despite not being enthused and not consenting.
(page 309) "The goal is that enthusiastic consent models will help to change the thinking from 'sex when someone says no and fights back is wrong' to 'sex when someone doesn't openly and enthusiastically want it is wrong.'"
So what about sex where one partner consents (without coercion) despite not really wanting it? I guess that all depends on why. Is the less-than-enthusiastic sex a gift? Is it some kind of sacrifice or payment? Is it a promise for better, more enthusiastic sex later? Is it a hope for more initiation from a partner who rarely initiates? Is it love? Is it comfort? Is it a struggle for conception?
Relationships are built on compromise and compassion, and sometimes sex can be a compassionate (rather than passionate) act.
But this whole exploration of non-enthusiastic but otherwise definite consent is dependent upon a lack of coercion and abuse.
(page 309) "...We do have a responsibility, particularly to young women, to give them the tools they need to recognize abuse."
And one of the tools to recognize abuse is to recognize the difference between consent freely given and coercion.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Talking About Sex
Responding to: "Beyond Yes Or No: Consent as Sexual Process" by Rachel Kramer Bussel.
I have difficulty talking about sex, except in clinical terms. I have trouble initiating. I have trouble asking for what I want. I believe it's a reflection of the internalized virgin-whore dichotomy, and that if I ask for what I want, then I'm admitting I'm a slut. I'm trying to get past this, though many many years of habit are hard to break.
(page 43) "The issue of 'consent' encompasses the ways we ask for sex, and the ways we don't.... Without our speaking up and demanding that our lovers do, too, we don't ever truly know what they are thinking, which impedes us from having the sex we could be having."
I must confess, I like it rough most of the time. This is actually a fairly recent revelation for me, at least the degree of roughness that I like. I feel more emotionally safe when the sex is rough, knowing that it shouldn't trigger any trauma or flashbacks. The rapes and abuse were not physically rough. But my lovers like more of a variety and want to be tender with me. Great sex is a process, as if I focus only on what I want, then I'm doing a disservice to my lovers, while if I focus only on what my lovers want, then I'm doing a disservice to me. But we can also decide to focus on one partner for a day, or for an hour, and fulfill unmet needs graciously and lovingly; which is definitely worthwhile.
(page 46) "And if you have been sharing, or trying to share, what you want and aren't being listened to? That's a problem. Recognize that and make it a priority."
Communication is integral to great sex, but it's also integral to having a good relationship. Period. Communication isn't always easy. If one partner is afraid to be truthful, then there is something wrong. Of course, truth can be a weapon wielded bluntly and with force for maximum pain, and truth can be gentle, easier to hear, easier to listen to, easier to act on. I try, but sometimes fail, to be gentle with the truth.
(page 46) "There is a lot more that goes on during sex than simply yes and no, and in the silences, unspoken doubts, fears, mistrust, and confusion can arise."
I feel that this is especially the case when there are multiple partners at the same time. It can be difficult to give more than one partner enough attention, and it can be lonely to be ignored. Speaking up is a necessity, though it may be strange at first to ask who wants to go first or who wants to indulge which desire when.
And even when it's only one partner, saying that something isn't quite working can be intimidating. If this stroke isn't working, am I going to hurt my partner's feelings because it's incredible for him? Talking is a risk, but it's a risk that's absolutely important to take.
(page 47) "Getting more comfortable talking about sex in and out of the heat of the moment means there'll be fewer of those awkward silences and less chances of one person thinking they had the best sex in the world while the other wishes it never happened."
I'm still working on it, but I do believe that I'm getting there--asking for what I want honestly and directly. Of course, it's easier to ask for what you want when you KNOW what you want, and I've started exploring that too.
I have difficulty talking about sex, except in clinical terms. I have trouble initiating. I have trouble asking for what I want. I believe it's a reflection of the internalized virgin-whore dichotomy, and that if I ask for what I want, then I'm admitting I'm a slut. I'm trying to get past this, though many many years of habit are hard to break.
(page 43) "The issue of 'consent' encompasses the ways we ask for sex, and the ways we don't.... Without our speaking up and demanding that our lovers do, too, we don't ever truly know what they are thinking, which impedes us from having the sex we could be having."
I must confess, I like it rough most of the time. This is actually a fairly recent revelation for me, at least the degree of roughness that I like. I feel more emotionally safe when the sex is rough, knowing that it shouldn't trigger any trauma or flashbacks. The rapes and abuse were not physically rough. But my lovers like more of a variety and want to be tender with me. Great sex is a process, as if I focus only on what I want, then I'm doing a disservice to my lovers, while if I focus only on what my lovers want, then I'm doing a disservice to me. But we can also decide to focus on one partner for a day, or for an hour, and fulfill unmet needs graciously and lovingly; which is definitely worthwhile.
(page 46) "And if you have been sharing, or trying to share, what you want and aren't being listened to? That's a problem. Recognize that and make it a priority."
Communication is integral to great sex, but it's also integral to having a good relationship. Period. Communication isn't always easy. If one partner is afraid to be truthful, then there is something wrong. Of course, truth can be a weapon wielded bluntly and with force for maximum pain, and truth can be gentle, easier to hear, easier to listen to, easier to act on. I try, but sometimes fail, to be gentle with the truth.
(page 46) "There is a lot more that goes on during sex than simply yes and no, and in the silences, unspoken doubts, fears, mistrust, and confusion can arise."
I feel that this is especially the case when there are multiple partners at the same time. It can be difficult to give more than one partner enough attention, and it can be lonely to be ignored. Speaking up is a necessity, though it may be strange at first to ask who wants to go first or who wants to indulge which desire when.
And even when it's only one partner, saying that something isn't quite working can be intimidating. If this stroke isn't working, am I going to hurt my partner's feelings because it's incredible for him? Talking is a risk, but it's a risk that's absolutely important to take.
(page 47) "Getting more comfortable talking about sex in and out of the heat of the moment means there'll be fewer of those awkward silences and less chances of one person thinking they had the best sex in the world while the other wishes it never happened."
I'm still working on it, but I do believe that I'm getting there--asking for what I want honestly and directly. Of course, it's easier to ask for what you want when you KNOW what you want, and I've started exploring that too.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
The Trouble with "No Means No" and Recognizing Douchebags
Using the word "douchebag" to describe those men who see women as sexual objects only, who seek to score, who seem to think that women aren't quite human, and so forth, is a recent development for me. I'm not generally vulgar in my terminology, reserving vulgarities for extreme emotion only, yet douche bag can definitely be considered vulgar. The douche bag is an utterly useless invention sold to women to "clean" their vaginae of foul odors associated with sex. Its use is actually far more harmful, leading to yeast and bacterial infections, dryness, and irritation. Vaginae self-clean. I don't think there really is another term that more accurately captures certain people I describe, how worthless they truly are, and how much contempt I have for them.
For this post, I am reflecting on three works. The first is "Who're You Calling a Whore?: A Conversation with Three Sex Workers on Sexuality, Empowerment, and the Industry" by Susan Lopez, Mariko Passion, and Saundra. The second is "On the Supposed Inability of Men to Understand Refusals" by Lauren O. The third is "Speak Up, I Can't Hear You" by Deborah Cameron.
(From "Who're You Calling a Whore?" page 274) "...I did not choose to be looked at sexually by the luring eyes of men and boys since my teens, I did not choose to learn the rules of the date rape game the hard way, and I did not create the conditions in the sexist and patriarchal world that I was born into. This world created me. This inequality was never a choice, and for me, too many times it was a hard lesson."
Obviously, I've had plenty of run-ins with douchebags. JRS was one. MZ was one. But they have not managed to poison my view of all of the male sex. There are men, there are douche bags, and there are boys still learning/deciding who they are. I have hope that douchebags can reform, but it would take a complete paradigm shift in their outlooks, as well as social censure for that to happen. (And, yes, women can be douchebags too.)
I was better at dealing with douchebags in junior high, between episodes of depression. One guy grabbed me, and when he refused to let me go, I clawed his arm off of me, leaving bloody trails from my fingernails. I stood up for myself, and he got the message loud and clear.
Unfortunately, this and my embrace of being nerdcore, made me invisible to boys in high school. And the few I later learned had been interested were much too scared to actually talk to me. Of course, I was too scared to talk to some of the guys I was interested in as well. High school sucks that way. Once I got out of high school, it was suddenly open season on me. I attracted far more attention than I ever had before, and I didn't know what to do with it. I was struggling with depression, learning to be semi-independent, and clueless about guys. Surely none of the guys I knew would be douchebags. Ah, how naive I was.
I still have run-ins with douchebags. I have to deal with customers where I work, and sometimes young men try to pick up on me. Usually my aloofness is enough to dissuade them, but sometimes it's not. For those, saying that I'm married or a snide "dude, I'm 30" is enough to dissuade them, but sometimes even that's not enough. I feel dirty even talking to the ones who "mishear" my telling them that I'm married as me looking for an affair. I'm working, not looking to score.
One of my male coworkers tends to be a nice young man, respectful and studious. He, like most nice people, has a tendency to try to couch and soften his NOs, which demonstrates consideration. Unfortunately, he knows too many douchebags, including his ex-girlfriend, who is stalking him. It doesn't matter how many times he tells her no nicely, until he fiercely stands up for himself, she won't hear it. Hopefully she isn't truly dangerous, as breaking up with stalkers can trigger violence. Stalkers aren't stable. They are scary and emotionally volatile.
It's hard to be direct with a no when you're scared of violence. I look fragile. I'm tall but almost a waif. If I were to take on a man, I'd most likely lose. Escape is my best option, not fighting. In the face of anger, I tend to swallow my own anger and hide my fear so that I can quietly walk away. I may even promise to return with goodies or to talk at another time. That's how I ended things with MZ. He was distracted by life, and I "gave him the space he needed to deal." I promised that after a couple of months, that we'd get back together. I lied. I shamelessly, confidently lied. Lied. Lied. Lied. I even assured him that I loved him. I hated him. I wanted him gone. I wanted him to leave me alone.
When I got home, I told my parents that I no longer wanted to talk to him, but not why (like they'd believe me anyway, and besides premarital sex was wrong, so they'd just call me a whore). Or rather, not the true reason. I asked them to run interference because he called me a bitch, and then did my best not to be home, just in case.
And that is the trouble with the slogan "No Means No." Douchebags refuse to hear the no, especially when it isn't a direct, loud, hostile NO!!! (which then makes you a bitch and why do you have to be that way, they ought to slap you for that, bitch.) You try to "let someone down easy" and they just keep on going, even if you pretend to be ill. You say no and they hear "a few more seconds of foreplay and it's an all clear." They just don't listen. They don't want to hear no, and deafen themselves to anything else. They warp "no means no" to include "and nothing else counts."
I prefer "Yes Means Yes" and the standard of enthusiastic consent. Will it help against douchebags? Probably not. But it will help those who are truly learning about interpersonal relationships, and who actually do want to learn. It will help those who have been told no-means-no and don't know what to do when they haven't heard no, but their date isn't all that interested, and they're supposed to be men (or girls who don't understand that a guy's hard-on isn't consent).
For this post, I am reflecting on three works. The first is "Who're You Calling a Whore?: A Conversation with Three Sex Workers on Sexuality, Empowerment, and the Industry" by Susan Lopez, Mariko Passion, and Saundra. The second is "On the Supposed Inability of Men to Understand Refusals" by Lauren O. The third is "Speak Up, I Can't Hear You" by Deborah Cameron.
(From "Who're You Calling a Whore?" page 274) "...I did not choose to be looked at sexually by the luring eyes of men and boys since my teens, I did not choose to learn the rules of the date rape game the hard way, and I did not create the conditions in the sexist and patriarchal world that I was born into. This world created me. This inequality was never a choice, and for me, too many times it was a hard lesson."
Obviously, I've had plenty of run-ins with douchebags. JRS was one. MZ was one. But they have not managed to poison my view of all of the male sex. There are men, there are douche bags, and there are boys still learning/deciding who they are. I have hope that douchebags can reform, but it would take a complete paradigm shift in their outlooks, as well as social censure for that to happen. (And, yes, women can be douchebags too.)
I was better at dealing with douchebags in junior high, between episodes of depression. One guy grabbed me, and when he refused to let me go, I clawed his arm off of me, leaving bloody trails from my fingernails. I stood up for myself, and he got the message loud and clear.
Unfortunately, this and my embrace of being nerdcore, made me invisible to boys in high school. And the few I later learned had been interested were much too scared to actually talk to me. Of course, I was too scared to talk to some of the guys I was interested in as well. High school sucks that way. Once I got out of high school, it was suddenly open season on me. I attracted far more attention than I ever had before, and I didn't know what to do with it. I was struggling with depression, learning to be semi-independent, and clueless about guys. Surely none of the guys I knew would be douchebags. Ah, how naive I was.
I still have run-ins with douchebags. I have to deal with customers where I work, and sometimes young men try to pick up on me. Usually my aloofness is enough to dissuade them, but sometimes it's not. For those, saying that I'm married or a snide "dude, I'm 30" is enough to dissuade them, but sometimes even that's not enough. I feel dirty even talking to the ones who "mishear" my telling them that I'm married as me looking for an affair. I'm working, not looking to score.
One of my male coworkers tends to be a nice young man, respectful and studious. He, like most nice people, has a tendency to try to couch and soften his NOs, which demonstrates consideration. Unfortunately, he knows too many douchebags, including his ex-girlfriend, who is stalking him. It doesn't matter how many times he tells her no nicely, until he fiercely stands up for himself, she won't hear it. Hopefully she isn't truly dangerous, as breaking up with stalkers can trigger violence. Stalkers aren't stable. They are scary and emotionally volatile.
It's hard to be direct with a no when you're scared of violence. I look fragile. I'm tall but almost a waif. If I were to take on a man, I'd most likely lose. Escape is my best option, not fighting. In the face of anger, I tend to swallow my own anger and hide my fear so that I can quietly walk away. I may even promise to return with goodies or to talk at another time. That's how I ended things with MZ. He was distracted by life, and I "gave him the space he needed to deal." I promised that after a couple of months, that we'd get back together. I lied. I shamelessly, confidently lied. Lied. Lied. Lied. I even assured him that I loved him. I hated him. I wanted him gone. I wanted him to leave me alone.
When I got home, I told my parents that I no longer wanted to talk to him, but not why (like they'd believe me anyway, and besides premarital sex was wrong, so they'd just call me a whore). Or rather, not the true reason. I asked them to run interference because he called me a bitch, and then did my best not to be home, just in case.
And that is the trouble with the slogan "No Means No." Douchebags refuse to hear the no, especially when it isn't a direct, loud, hostile NO!!! (which then makes you a bitch and why do you have to be that way, they ought to slap you for that, bitch.) You try to "let someone down easy" and they just keep on going, even if you pretend to be ill. You say no and they hear "a few more seconds of foreplay and it's an all clear." They just don't listen. They don't want to hear no, and deafen themselves to anything else. They warp "no means no" to include "and nothing else counts."
I prefer "Yes Means Yes" and the standard of enthusiastic consent. Will it help against douchebags? Probably not. But it will help those who are truly learning about interpersonal relationships, and who actually do want to learn. It will help those who have been told no-means-no and don't know what to do when they haven't heard no, but their date isn't all that interested, and they're supposed to be men (or girls who don't understand that a guy's hard-on isn't consent).
Monday, September 7, 2009
Closet Case
Responding to: Ask Professor Foxy: How Do I Tell My Parents About My Poly Relationship?
I'm very much in the closet about having any kind of extramarital relationships. A big part of this is because I need consent to rip down the closet doors.
We live in a culture that does not value non-monogamous relationships. The most widespread example of polyamory in the US is the fundamentalist Mormon off-shoot of polygamy, which pairs young and undereducated women with older men.
I completely understand wanting privacy. I want a modicum of privacy myself. That is why I am anonymous. The slut-shaming for women who "stray" outside their marriages can be heinous. I don't want to be called a slut or a whore or cheating bitch by anyone. I absolutely believe that I would be named a whore by at least my mother if I came out as married with lovers.
Then there is my husband. He and my parents never really got along anyway, and to be open that I'm happy for him when he enjoys someone else's company would just have them brand him as a cheating bastard, while I've been brainwashed somehow to think this is acceptable.
I also have to consider how it would affect my loved ones. How would they feel if someone revealed "I think your spouse and best friend are having an affair?" out of the blue. I don't want to put either my husband or my best friend in the position of suddenly having to defend their marriage/friendship.
At the same time, I'd like to be free to show my affections. I also don't want my husband to have to hide his affection for others, should he wish to show them. I know I have the air of obliviousness that would allow me to simply say "They're good friends" and change the subject if I'm not willing to explore the subject of polyamory at the time or with that particular person.
Regardless, I am currently in the closet, and unless and until all those who will be affected by my openness give permission to be dragged out with me, I will remain there.
I'm very much in the closet about having any kind of extramarital relationships. A big part of this is because I need consent to rip down the closet doors.
We live in a culture that does not value non-monogamous relationships. The most widespread example of polyamory in the US is the fundamentalist Mormon off-shoot of polygamy, which pairs young and undereducated women with older men.
I completely understand wanting privacy. I want a modicum of privacy myself. That is why I am anonymous. The slut-shaming for women who "stray" outside their marriages can be heinous. I don't want to be called a slut or a whore or cheating bitch by anyone. I absolutely believe that I would be named a whore by at least my mother if I came out as married with lovers.
Then there is my husband. He and my parents never really got along anyway, and to be open that I'm happy for him when he enjoys someone else's company would just have them brand him as a cheating bastard, while I've been brainwashed somehow to think this is acceptable.
I also have to consider how it would affect my loved ones. How would they feel if someone revealed "I think your spouse and best friend are having an affair?" out of the blue. I don't want to put either my husband or my best friend in the position of suddenly having to defend their marriage/friendship.
At the same time, I'd like to be free to show my affections. I also don't want my husband to have to hide his affection for others, should he wish to show them. I know I have the air of obliviousness that would allow me to simply say "They're good friends" and change the subject if I'm not willing to explore the subject of polyamory at the time or with that particular person.
Regardless, I am currently in the closet, and unless and until all those who will be affected by my openness give permission to be dragged out with me, I will remain there.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Respect
Responding to "Hooking Up with Healthy Sexuality: The Lessons Boys Learn (and Don't Learn) About Sexuality, and Why a Sex Positive Rape Prevention Paradigm Can Benefit Everyone Involved" by Brad Perry.
(page 199) "Why aren't we all socialized to expect and proactively ensure that every sexual interaction is marked by mutual enjoyment and respect?"
Let's think about this question, let it simmer in our collective consciences, and stew on it awhile.
Sex should have mutual enjoyment and respect? Every time, no matter what? Really?
Why not?
Because sex really should be all about mutual enjoyment and respect every time no matter what.
Yes, ladies, sex really should be more than submitting to your husband and procreation.
Yes, men, sex should be more than scoring or getting off or punishing someone.
Envision better. Act Better. Expect more.
Even when sex is a casual hook-up one time only thing, it should come from a place of reciprocity. "All about me" sex may satisfy a physical need temporarily, but giving someone an orgasm is better for the ego.
Even when sex is paid for, there should be respect. Another person, a human being just like you and me, has negotiated certain services for a particular payment. They have limits, and those limits need to be abode. Non-payment, violence, and going beyond the agreed upon limits are all wrong.
And even in a marriage, NO must be heard. And when one spouse is deeply asleep, it is not acceptable for the partner to do sexual acts without their knowledge.
Violence is unacceptable.
Coercion is unacceptable.
Rape is unacceptable.
Every sexual interaction MUST be marked by mutual enjoyment and respect. Or it doesn't belong in "The Number." It doesn't count, and depending upon the circumstances, it deserves a name other than sex.
(page 199) "Why aren't we all socialized to expect and proactively ensure that every sexual interaction is marked by mutual enjoyment and respect?"
Let's think about this question, let it simmer in our collective consciences, and stew on it awhile.
Sex should have mutual enjoyment and respect? Every time, no matter what? Really?
Why not?
Because sex really should be all about mutual enjoyment and respect every time no matter what.
Yes, ladies, sex really should be more than submitting to your husband and procreation.
Yes, men, sex should be more than scoring or getting off or punishing someone.
Envision better. Act Better. Expect more.
Even when sex is a casual hook-up one time only thing, it should come from a place of reciprocity. "All about me" sex may satisfy a physical need temporarily, but giving someone an orgasm is better for the ego.
Even when sex is paid for, there should be respect. Another person, a human being just like you and me, has negotiated certain services for a particular payment. They have limits, and those limits need to be abode. Non-payment, violence, and going beyond the agreed upon limits are all wrong.
And even in a marriage, NO must be heard. And when one spouse is deeply asleep, it is not acceptable for the partner to do sexual acts without their knowledge.
Violence is unacceptable.
Coercion is unacceptable.
Rape is unacceptable.
Every sexual interaction MUST be marked by mutual enjoyment and respect. Or it doesn't belong in "The Number." It doesn't count, and depending upon the circumstances, it deserves a name other than sex.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
What Counts
Responding to: "The Process-Oriented Virgin" by Hanne Blank.
Reading this essay led me to reflect upon my "number" and change it.
Even in the ancient world, when it was obvious that women were property and bargaining chips, women from cities that had been invaded, resulting in mass rape, were still considered virgins and marriageable.
(page 289) "What happened to you sexually was not necessarily what you were as a person."
Most people seem to agree that rape, especially in children or by strangers, is an assault and not sex. It doesn't count, especially when the victim has no other sexualized experience.
(page 290) "This didn't just broaden the spectrum of what might be understood to constitute virginity, as a (at least potentially) contextual quality. It also placed, at least in some cases, the determination of whether someone was or wasn't a virgin in a place where it almost never rested otherwise: namely, in the virgin's own hands."
So why should it count for those of us who are sexually active, married or not?
I was a full participant in "losing" my virginity. My motive was more curiosity than anything. There was a guy I knew, attractive enough, very flirtatious, an outsider like me. I gave him my number. He called, asked me when I'd come over. We were both clear that I'd be coming over for sex. I didn't have any illusions that we'd start dating. I got directions, lied to my parents about plans, and one Saturday we got together.
I'd read enough romance novels to understand that there might be some discomfort, but that if I was excited enough it would be enjoyable anyway. All in all, I had a very positive experience. Wish I could say the same about the rest of my experiences.
(page 294) "As an assertion of unconscious, psychological truth, the statement that a given woman's virginity ends when the individual says it does, for the reasons that she says it does, is unassailable. It destroys the historical relationship between authority figures and virginity by cutting out outsiders--anyone from priests to parents to virginity testers--out of of the picture entirely, divesting them of any voice in regard to what virginity is and what it might or might not be worth."
I think post-virginal sex should also be defined by ones experiencing it.
I've revised my number--or, more accurately, I now have two numbers. One is the number of people I've had sex with; the other number is relevant only for medical inquiries. I've shed some experiences, recognizing them for the garbage they are.
(page 293) "The sex that counts for these young women is sex in which they are involved and invested."
JRS does not count. I wasn't involved. I was a masturbatory aid, nothing more that day. That was not sex. It was "not-rape," though with the "surprise" anal sex, I've begun to shift it into the rape or sexual assault category.
MZ does not count. MZ was my "boyfriend" for far too long--a few months. He raped me six times and coerced me into sex about weekly. Over and over I'd tell him no. It was like hitting pause on a busted remote where the moment you lift your finger, it continues playing anyway. I found out he'd gotten me pregnant when nature too care of that problem for me before I'd realized I had a problem at all. I stupidly told him even though we'd broken up, thinking it was The-Right-Thing-To-Do. He raped me again. That entire "relationship" doesn't count.
One more experience doesn't meet the involved and invested requirement. It doesn't count either. There really wasn't anything bad about it; it just doesn't measure up. I didn't seek it. I didn't NOT want it. I just went along with it. Not good enough. Not sex.
The mischievous part of me wonders how the douches I excised would react if I told them that they don't count, but that would make this retaliatory, rather than being true to myself. I don't care to encounter any of them again, so I won't be seeking them out. I'd prefer to focus on the enthusiastic sex that does matter, that does count, that fills me with joy.
Reading this essay led me to reflect upon my "number" and change it.
Even in the ancient world, when it was obvious that women were property and bargaining chips, women from cities that had been invaded, resulting in mass rape, were still considered virgins and marriageable.
(page 289) "What happened to you sexually was not necessarily what you were as a person."
Most people seem to agree that rape, especially in children or by strangers, is an assault and not sex. It doesn't count, especially when the victim has no other sexualized experience.
(page 290) "This didn't just broaden the spectrum of what might be understood to constitute virginity, as a (at least potentially) contextual quality. It also placed, at least in some cases, the determination of whether someone was or wasn't a virgin in a place where it almost never rested otherwise: namely, in the virgin's own hands."
So why should it count for those of us who are sexually active, married or not?
I was a full participant in "losing" my virginity. My motive was more curiosity than anything. There was a guy I knew, attractive enough, very flirtatious, an outsider like me. I gave him my number. He called, asked me when I'd come over. We were both clear that I'd be coming over for sex. I didn't have any illusions that we'd start dating. I got directions, lied to my parents about plans, and one Saturday we got together.
I'd read enough romance novels to understand that there might be some discomfort, but that if I was excited enough it would be enjoyable anyway. All in all, I had a very positive experience. Wish I could say the same about the rest of my experiences.
(page 294) "As an assertion of unconscious, psychological truth, the statement that a given woman's virginity ends when the individual says it does, for the reasons that she says it does, is unassailable. It destroys the historical relationship between authority figures and virginity by cutting out outsiders--anyone from priests to parents to virginity testers--out of of the picture entirely, divesting them of any voice in regard to what virginity is and what it might or might not be worth."
I think post-virginal sex should also be defined by ones experiencing it.
I've revised my number--or, more accurately, I now have two numbers. One is the number of people I've had sex with; the other number is relevant only for medical inquiries. I've shed some experiences, recognizing them for the garbage they are.
(page 293) "The sex that counts for these young women is sex in which they are involved and invested."
JRS does not count. I wasn't involved. I was a masturbatory aid, nothing more that day. That was not sex. It was "not-rape," though with the "surprise" anal sex, I've begun to shift it into the rape or sexual assault category.
MZ does not count. MZ was my "boyfriend" for far too long--a few months. He raped me six times and coerced me into sex about weekly. Over and over I'd tell him no. It was like hitting pause on a busted remote where the moment you lift your finger, it continues playing anyway. I found out he'd gotten me pregnant when nature too care of that problem for me before I'd realized I had a problem at all. I stupidly told him even though we'd broken up, thinking it was The-Right-Thing-To-Do. He raped me again. That entire "relationship" doesn't count.
One more experience doesn't meet the involved and invested requirement. It doesn't count either. There really wasn't anything bad about it; it just doesn't measure up. I didn't seek it. I didn't NOT want it. I just went along with it. Not good enough. Not sex.
The mischievous part of me wonders how the douches I excised would react if I told them that they don't count, but that would make this retaliatory, rather than being true to myself. I don't care to encounter any of them again, so I won't be seeking them out. I'd prefer to focus on the enthusiastic sex that does matter, that does count, that fills me with joy.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Jumping at Shadows
Responding to "In Defense of Going Wild or: How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love Pleasure (and How You Can Too)" by Jaclyn Friedman.
(page 314) "I hereby declare my right to be wild and still maintain my bodily autonomy."
I know a couple of women who drink beyond the blacking out point on a regular basis. I am scared for them. Don't they know that it only takes one creep to abuse them in their vulnerable state? I hope for their safety, but know it's just a matter of time before they get hurt (or hurt again). I find myself struggling not to slut-shame one of them, but I have to make a conscious effort not to.
(page 315) "Sure, there are plenty of ways drinking and/or sexing can be bad for you--any pleasure can be manipulated or abused for any number of reasons. But there's nothing inherently wrong with either, and when you force women to choose safety over pleasure in ways men never have to (and when you shame them for choosing 'wrong'), you teach women that their pleasure is not as important as men's."
All my life I've been hearing about the dangers of daring to be female in public after dark. It's sad really. Walking after dark in a quiet area is so very peaceful. I enjoy the night sky on clear or partly cloudy nights.
Recently, my best friend and I went out to a bar, no men attached. With loving concern, my husband cautioned me to be careful and not drink too much. After all, there are predators in every town. Turns out that in the early hours of morning that very day, a woman took a short-cut home, and someone attacked her, raping her.
I was relatively safe in a low-key bar, walking on well-lit streets to find one of the plentiful taxis. The extent of misconduct I experienced was a single inappropriate comment, by the cab driver of course.
The night life doesn't scare me. Even as a foolish teen I took precautions. I had extremely sharp pencils in my purse. I drove myself instead of trusting some guy to see me home safely (strangely, this upset my parents--that I'd insist on driving myself. Weren't men chivalrous enough to pick me up? Was I ashamed of them?) While I occasionally found myself the lone girl at an athletes' party, once anyone seemed more than tipsy or I got a bad feeling, I left. No harm done.
No, being female at night in public left me unscathed.
It was my "boyfriend" who told me to "put out or get out"--in my own car. The "surprise" anal sex happened in the afternoon--at work.
(page 316) "If we want to raise awareness about the links between drinking and rape, we should start by getting the word out to men (who are, after all, the overwhelming majority of rapists) that alcohol is likely to impair their ability to respond appropriately if a sexual partner says no."
Yes, the nightlife can be dangerous--especially when men have been drinking. The cases of questionable sex or date rape that men I know have told me about involved their drinking alcohol in all but one case.
When I go out to enjoy myself, I don't want to jump at shadows or contain my joy. I want to be free to celebrate. It's up to everyone to exercise the restraint to be sure of their welcome, no matter how tipsy or drunk or wasted their object of desire is.
(page 319) "If we spent even a fraction of the time we use to teach girls to fear for their bodies teaching them to use their bodies for their own protection instead, there'd by a hell of a lot less for any of us to worry about. Because the most practical way to reduce the risk of rape for all women is to create a culture in which the rapist has to worry that he'll get hurt."
A distant cousin of mine one tackled me and threatened to rape me. I didn't know how to get him off me, except by threatening to bite him. I knew I couldn't take him in a fight, but it worked. I'm not sure how serious he was, even to this day, but a simple display of my backbone stopped him. So in addition to teaching our sons that only yes means yes and that alcohol may hinder their ability to recognize that a yes shouldn't count, we need to teach our daughters to hear and use their voices. This world could be a better place.
(page 314) "I hereby declare my right to be wild and still maintain my bodily autonomy."
I know a couple of women who drink beyond the blacking out point on a regular basis. I am scared for them. Don't they know that it only takes one creep to abuse them in their vulnerable state? I hope for their safety, but know it's just a matter of time before they get hurt (or hurt again). I find myself struggling not to slut-shame one of them, but I have to make a conscious effort not to.
(page 315) "Sure, there are plenty of ways drinking and/or sexing can be bad for you--any pleasure can be manipulated or abused for any number of reasons. But there's nothing inherently wrong with either, and when you force women to choose safety over pleasure in ways men never have to (and when you shame them for choosing 'wrong'), you teach women that their pleasure is not as important as men's."
All my life I've been hearing about the dangers of daring to be female in public after dark. It's sad really. Walking after dark in a quiet area is so very peaceful. I enjoy the night sky on clear or partly cloudy nights.
Recently, my best friend and I went out to a bar, no men attached. With loving concern, my husband cautioned me to be careful and not drink too much. After all, there are predators in every town. Turns out that in the early hours of morning that very day, a woman took a short-cut home, and someone attacked her, raping her.
I was relatively safe in a low-key bar, walking on well-lit streets to find one of the plentiful taxis. The extent of misconduct I experienced was a single inappropriate comment, by the cab driver of course.
The night life doesn't scare me. Even as a foolish teen I took precautions. I had extremely sharp pencils in my purse. I drove myself instead of trusting some guy to see me home safely (strangely, this upset my parents--that I'd insist on driving myself. Weren't men chivalrous enough to pick me up? Was I ashamed of them?) While I occasionally found myself the lone girl at an athletes' party, once anyone seemed more than tipsy or I got a bad feeling, I left. No harm done.
No, being female at night in public left me unscathed.
It was my "boyfriend" who told me to "put out or get out"--in my own car. The "surprise" anal sex happened in the afternoon--at work.
(page 316) "If we want to raise awareness about the links between drinking and rape, we should start by getting the word out to men (who are, after all, the overwhelming majority of rapists) that alcohol is likely to impair their ability to respond appropriately if a sexual partner says no."
Yes, the nightlife can be dangerous--especially when men have been drinking. The cases of questionable sex or date rape that men I know have told me about involved their drinking alcohol in all but one case.
When I go out to enjoy myself, I don't want to jump at shadows or contain my joy. I want to be free to celebrate. It's up to everyone to exercise the restraint to be sure of their welcome, no matter how tipsy or drunk or wasted their object of desire is.
(page 319) "If we spent even a fraction of the time we use to teach girls to fear for their bodies teaching them to use their bodies for their own protection instead, there'd by a hell of a lot less for any of us to worry about. Because the most practical way to reduce the risk of rape for all women is to create a culture in which the rapist has to worry that he'll get hurt."
A distant cousin of mine one tackled me and threatened to rape me. I didn't know how to get him off me, except by threatening to bite him. I knew I couldn't take him in a fight, but it worked. I'm not sure how serious he was, even to this day, but a simple display of my backbone stopped him. So in addition to teaching our sons that only yes means yes and that alcohol may hinder their ability to recognize that a yes shouldn't count, we need to teach our daughters to hear and use their voices. This world could be a better place.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
So-Called Compromise
The quote for this post comes from The Osho Zen Tarot. Unless otherwise specified, and until I finish responding to Yes Means Yes, all of the essays I quote from are found within that book.
Compromise: "It is one thing to meet another halfway, to understand a point of view different from our own and work towards a harmony of the opposing forces. It is quite another to 'cave in' and betray our own truth."
Despite the fact that I of yet have no comments, I have decided to require my approval before they post. I don't need any readers I may eventually have encounter trolling. I want this to be an accountable place. I want sincere questions and insights.
I drew this card in multiple readings over the years. I enjoy Tarot and the thoughtways some of the cards have sent me on.
I'm still discovering my voice. It fades sometimes. I get heartsick reliving the past. I choke myself off, my words paralyzed within me.
I can't allow myself to remain silent. Silence is complicity.
Another thought: to be true to me, I am responding to works in the order I'm ready to talk about them. This blog is my journey, and it is not linear.
To relate this card to sex: if one partner whines, begs, pleads, hounds the other for sex, then giving in is caving. It is not true consent. It is settling. It is a betrayal of the self. It is not love. It is not pleasure. It is not sex. It is "not-rape." I hope the caving partner learns to leave. I hope the whining partner shuts the fuck up, because the whining partner is not a good partner at all.
Compromise: "It is one thing to meet another halfway, to understand a point of view different from our own and work towards a harmony of the opposing forces. It is quite another to 'cave in' and betray our own truth."
Despite the fact that I of yet have no comments, I have decided to require my approval before they post. I don't need any readers I may eventually have encounter trolling. I want this to be an accountable place. I want sincere questions and insights.
I drew this card in multiple readings over the years. I enjoy Tarot and the thoughtways some of the cards have sent me on.
I'm still discovering my voice. It fades sometimes. I get heartsick reliving the past. I choke myself off, my words paralyzed within me.
I can't allow myself to remain silent. Silence is complicity.
Another thought: to be true to me, I am responding to works in the order I'm ready to talk about them. This blog is my journey, and it is not linear.
To relate this card to sex: if one partner whines, begs, pleads, hounds the other for sex, then giving in is caving. It is not true consent. It is settling. It is a betrayal of the self. It is not love. It is not pleasure. It is not sex. It is "not-rape." I hope the caving partner learns to leave. I hope the whining partner shuts the fuck up, because the whining partner is not a good partner at all.
Friday, August 28, 2009
No, You DON'T Get to Touch Me
Responding to "Reclaiming Touch: Rape Culture, Explicit Verbal Consent, and Body Sovereignty" by Hazel/Cedar Troust
I was planning on responding to a different piece before I reflected on this one, but I was reminded last night once again why the assumption that it's OK to touch someone without asking is erroneous. Last night a co-worker decided to try to startle me by talking right behind me, and when I told him that it would have been successful, and would have been cause for a rather sharp reaction from me had he touched me instead, he looked puzzled. I reach out & touch people on the back all the time to make sure they don't run into me, he said. I encouraged him to warn me verbally. This isn't the first coworker to consider touching my back (shudder) without asking, and sadly I doubt he'll be the last.
(page 171) "...rape culture works by restricting a person's control of hir body, limiting hir sense of ownership of it, and granting others a sense of entitlement to it. "
I didn't realize just how invasive and demeaning casual touching can be until I was pregnant. Complete strangers feel totally comfortable grabbing a woman's pregnant belly without even asking. Don't. Don't do that. It's not your body, it's not just an unattached floating belly, and you need to respect pregnant women enough to ask.
Before becoming pregnant, I was relatively invisible. Sure, people would approach me and hit on me, and occasionally I'd get cat calls when walking by myself, but it was no where near as intrusive or constant as when I was pregnant. I miss that relative invisibility, though now I can relive it when I go somewhere people don't instantly recognize me and leave the kids at home.
Truthfully, I've never been the touchy-feely type, and some touches can panic me. A coworker asked why once, and for simplicity's sake, I told her I'd been attacked (true, but unrelated). My mother mentioned on several occasions while I was growing up that even as a baby I really didn't like cuddling much, so I was probably just born wired this way. Really, if I haven't given someone permission to touch me, even if that permission is stated only within the confines of my mind, I don't want to be touched.
When people touch me, especially "superiors," without making sure it's OK, then they deny me agency. It's difficult to diplomatically explain that I don't welcome being touched, and that no one is entitled to touch me without my consent, when inside I'm cringing. I flinch. No one is entitled to touch me (or anyone else). Not even doctors. I am not public property.
(page 173) "Practicing explicit verbal consent, I was able to decide first and then accept touch--or say no, which was much easier, because I was no longer breaking off contact and rejecting, but simply not beginning, that activity. I found that there was tons of touch that I accepted rather than wanted, even from people I really wanted to touch me--and to my surprise, I found the people I touched regularly were the same."
I rarely practice explicit verbal consent, though I've started asking to touch my friends, like asking if they'd like a hug when they're upset. It's a bit liberating, because asking permission is much more productive than standing there wondering if my crying friend wants physical comfort (a hug) or really doesn't want to be touched in that moment. Standing there is awkward, and I try not to assume permission to touch except with those I'm most intimate (and who regularly welcome my touch).
I've also realized that I do assume touch is OK, especially with my husband. I like to rest my legs on him or lean against him when we're sitting together because it makes me feel closer to him. I rarely think to ask permission, and it tends to make him feel like furniture, which is the opposite of closeness. When I remember, I move away and ask permission. It's not frequent enough yet.
Sometimes, usually when I'm fatigued, touch--normal, caress-y type touch--just plain feels bad. It's overwhelming and sets off a flight-or-fight response in me. I've stopped being embarrassed about that, which makes it easier for me to request firm touches at that time. I've called them massage touches, trying to allude to the firmness/pressure I need, but I keep getting told a variation of "I don't know that many massages," so I need a different term.
Until I was confident enough and direct enough to explain my physiology, it seemed that my rejection was about my partner, rather than about the touch. This wasn't useful, and led to hurt feelings. As I've become more and more practiced in asking for firmer touches, my touch panic has been greatly mitigated, allowing me to enjoy sex where previously I'd flee or flinch or resist without explanation.
The assumption that it's OK to touch unless told not to and that assumption that it's OK to have sex with someone unless told not to are on the same continuum of belief. Do not assume consent.
(from the notes section, page 330) "Rape is not always a deliberate attempt to harm, but it's never an 'accident.' Though perpetrators may be unaware that what they're doing is rape, non-consensual, or hurtful, if they took their victims' feelings and body sovereignty seriously, they would take more care to do only things that were wanted. Rape is defined by its effect on the survivor, no by what's going through the perpetrator's mind at the time of the assault, but the latter is relevant in analyzing how to stop rape."
Not much to add to this excellent insight beyond that I've said in previous posts. The same feeling of entitlement that allows people to touch without asking, the assumption that your touch is welcome can be hazardous and cause great harm. If you ever have to wonder if your touch is welcome--that you're not sure should be answer enough. I respect people too much to believe that the thought of sex turns anyone into slavering idiots incapable of stopping.
I was planning on responding to a different piece before I reflected on this one, but I was reminded last night once again why the assumption that it's OK to touch someone without asking is erroneous. Last night a co-worker decided to try to startle me by talking right behind me, and when I told him that it would have been successful, and would have been cause for a rather sharp reaction from me had he touched me instead, he looked puzzled. I reach out & touch people on the back all the time to make sure they don't run into me, he said. I encouraged him to warn me verbally. This isn't the first coworker to consider touching my back (shudder) without asking, and sadly I doubt he'll be the last.
(page 171) "...rape culture works by restricting a person's control of hir body, limiting hir sense of ownership of it, and granting others a sense of entitlement to it. "
I didn't realize just how invasive and demeaning casual touching can be until I was pregnant. Complete strangers feel totally comfortable grabbing a woman's pregnant belly without even asking. Don't. Don't do that. It's not your body, it's not just an unattached floating belly, and you need to respect pregnant women enough to ask.
Before becoming pregnant, I was relatively invisible. Sure, people would approach me and hit on me, and occasionally I'd get cat calls when walking by myself, but it was no where near as intrusive or constant as when I was pregnant. I miss that relative invisibility, though now I can relive it when I go somewhere people don't instantly recognize me and leave the kids at home.
Truthfully, I've never been the touchy-feely type, and some touches can panic me. A coworker asked why once, and for simplicity's sake, I told her I'd been attacked (true, but unrelated). My mother mentioned on several occasions while I was growing up that even as a baby I really didn't like cuddling much, so I was probably just born wired this way. Really, if I haven't given someone permission to touch me, even if that permission is stated only within the confines of my mind, I don't want to be touched.
When people touch me, especially "superiors," without making sure it's OK, then they deny me agency. It's difficult to diplomatically explain that I don't welcome being touched, and that no one is entitled to touch me without my consent, when inside I'm cringing. I flinch. No one is entitled to touch me (or anyone else). Not even doctors. I am not public property.
(page 173) "Practicing explicit verbal consent, I was able to decide first and then accept touch--or say no, which was much easier, because I was no longer breaking off contact and rejecting, but simply not beginning, that activity. I found that there was tons of touch that I accepted rather than wanted, even from people I really wanted to touch me--and to my surprise, I found the people I touched regularly were the same."
I rarely practice explicit verbal consent, though I've started asking to touch my friends, like asking if they'd like a hug when they're upset. It's a bit liberating, because asking permission is much more productive than standing there wondering if my crying friend wants physical comfort (a hug) or really doesn't want to be touched in that moment. Standing there is awkward, and I try not to assume permission to touch except with those I'm most intimate (and who regularly welcome my touch).
I've also realized that I do assume touch is OK, especially with my husband. I like to rest my legs on him or lean against him when we're sitting together because it makes me feel closer to him. I rarely think to ask permission, and it tends to make him feel like furniture, which is the opposite of closeness. When I remember, I move away and ask permission. It's not frequent enough yet.
Sometimes, usually when I'm fatigued, touch--normal, caress-y type touch--just plain feels bad. It's overwhelming and sets off a flight-or-fight response in me. I've stopped being embarrassed about that, which makes it easier for me to request firm touches at that time. I've called them massage touches, trying to allude to the firmness/pressure I need, but I keep getting told a variation of "I don't know that many massages," so I need a different term.
Until I was confident enough and direct enough to explain my physiology, it seemed that my rejection was about my partner, rather than about the touch. This wasn't useful, and led to hurt feelings. As I've become more and more practiced in asking for firmer touches, my touch panic has been greatly mitigated, allowing me to enjoy sex where previously I'd flee or flinch or resist without explanation.
The assumption that it's OK to touch unless told not to and that assumption that it's OK to have sex with someone unless told not to are on the same continuum of belief. Do not assume consent.
(from the notes section, page 330) "Rape is not always a deliberate attempt to harm, but it's never an 'accident.' Though perpetrators may be unaware that what they're doing is rape, non-consensual, or hurtful, if they took their victims' feelings and body sovereignty seriously, they would take more care to do only things that were wanted. Rape is defined by its effect on the survivor, no by what's going through the perpetrator's mind at the time of the assault, but the latter is relevant in analyzing how to stop rape."
Not much to add to this excellent insight beyond that I've said in previous posts. The same feeling of entitlement that allows people to touch without asking, the assumption that your touch is welcome can be hazardous and cause great harm. If you ever have to wonder if your touch is welcome--that you're not sure should be answer enough. I respect people too much to believe that the thought of sex turns anyone into slavering idiots incapable of stopping.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
An Enthusiastic Standard
A reflection on "Toward a Perfomance Model of Sex" by Thomas Macaulay Miller
(page 37) "Rape apologists argue that once consent is given it cannot be withdrawn; that acquiescence under the influence is consent; that women who do not clearly say no assume the risk."
This attitude assumes that once sex enters the picture, men become little more than drooling idiots unable to control their little heads, and can't tell when their partners aren't enjoying themselves (or that men shouldn't have to care whether their partners are enjoying themselves). While some douchebags simply really don't care about their partners' pleasure, most people want to be thought of as good lovers, which means they care that their partners ENJOY what's going on. If someone is too self-centered to pull his/her head out of his/her ass long enough to realize that his/her partner is, at best, tolerating what he/she is doing, then he/she is no where near a semi-adequate lover, let alone a good one.
Consent can be withdrawn at any time. "Ow" means "Stop!" unless pain was negotiated and consented to prior to starting. When enthusiasm stops, pleasure stops, and so should the activity. Why is this a foreign concept? Sex is supposed to be enjoyable.
Good sex takes two enthusiastic participants, and while enthusiasm may not necessarily equal pleasure, without it, one partner is masturbating while using someone else's body. That's not the kind of sex I want, for me or for anyone.
(page 39) "Under a performance model, ... sexual interaction should be creative, positive, and respectful even in the most casual of circumstances, and without regard to what each partner seeks from it."
Sex takes (at least) two partners who tune into what each other wants. A healthy and enthusiastic sexual relationship leads to exploring new things, communication, and pleasure. It may not start out with instant fireworks, but mutual fireworks tends to be the goal. It gets better with time.
Without respect and communication, it gets worse over time, not better. If sex with you means that we do what you want even though I hate it, how long do you truly expect me to continue sleeping with you? If sex with you means we both have fun and occasionally you ask me to do something that I don't really care for, but do anyway because you like it so much and I enjoy pleasing you, then I'll continue to want to sleep with you. Collaborative sex is fun.
And guys, if you want to hook up from time to time with various people, but only take what you want without caring if you give pleasure in return, I hope that you understand that you're earning your reputation for being a douchebag.
(page 40) "If our boys learn from their preadolescence that sex is a performance where enthusiastic participation is normal and pressure is aberrant, then the idea that consent is affirmative, rather than the absence of objection, will be ingrained."
The reason so many women have experiences like mine with JRS is because of a cultural attitude where sex is all about "getting some" and "scoring." When all you want to do is "score," then you don't really care if the sex is good or pay attention to the the signals that your touch isn't welcome. You are settling for terrible sex, and may even be raping someone. Is that what you truly want?
I have wonderful, mind-blowing, forget-my-name sex with my husband and lover(s), but even quickies are satisfying because we care about each others' needs. We listen. We watch. We give mutual pleasure, which in turn increases our own pleasure. Sex should be fun, not endured, each and every time, otherwise what's the point in having it?
(page 37) "Rape apologists argue that once consent is given it cannot be withdrawn; that acquiescence under the influence is consent; that women who do not clearly say no assume the risk."
This attitude assumes that once sex enters the picture, men become little more than drooling idiots unable to control their little heads, and can't tell when their partners aren't enjoying themselves (or that men shouldn't have to care whether their partners are enjoying themselves). While some douchebags simply really don't care about their partners' pleasure, most people want to be thought of as good lovers, which means they care that their partners ENJOY what's going on. If someone is too self-centered to pull his/her head out of his/her ass long enough to realize that his/her partner is, at best, tolerating what he/she is doing, then he/she is no where near a semi-adequate lover, let alone a good one.
Consent can be withdrawn at any time. "Ow" means "Stop!" unless pain was negotiated and consented to prior to starting. When enthusiasm stops, pleasure stops, and so should the activity. Why is this a foreign concept? Sex is supposed to be enjoyable.
Good sex takes two enthusiastic participants, and while enthusiasm may not necessarily equal pleasure, without it, one partner is masturbating while using someone else's body. That's not the kind of sex I want, for me or for anyone.
(page 39) "Under a performance model, ... sexual interaction should be creative, positive, and respectful even in the most casual of circumstances, and without regard to what each partner seeks from it."
Sex takes (at least) two partners who tune into what each other wants. A healthy and enthusiastic sexual relationship leads to exploring new things, communication, and pleasure. It may not start out with instant fireworks, but mutual fireworks tends to be the goal. It gets better with time.
Without respect and communication, it gets worse over time, not better. If sex with you means that we do what you want even though I hate it, how long do you truly expect me to continue sleeping with you? If sex with you means we both have fun and occasionally you ask me to do something that I don't really care for, but do anyway because you like it so much and I enjoy pleasing you, then I'll continue to want to sleep with you. Collaborative sex is fun.
And guys, if you want to hook up from time to time with various people, but only take what you want without caring if you give pleasure in return, I hope that you understand that you're earning your reputation for being a douchebag.
(page 40) "If our boys learn from their preadolescence that sex is a performance where enthusiastic participation is normal and pressure is aberrant, then the idea that consent is affirmative, rather than the absence of objection, will be ingrained."
The reason so many women have experiences like mine with JRS is because of a cultural attitude where sex is all about "getting some" and "scoring." When all you want to do is "score," then you don't really care if the sex is good or pay attention to the the signals that your touch isn't welcome. You are settling for terrible sex, and may even be raping someone. Is that what you truly want?
I have wonderful, mind-blowing, forget-my-name sex with my husband and lover(s), but even quickies are satisfying because we care about each others' needs. We listen. We watch. We give mutual pleasure, which in turn increases our own pleasure. Sex should be fun, not endured, each and every time, otherwise what's the point in having it?
Monday, August 24, 2009
Sex Negativity
Responding to "Offensive Feminism: The Conservative Gender Norms That Perpetuate Rape Culture, and How Feminists Can Fight Back" by Jill Filipovic In Yes Means Yes.
My response focuses on pieces of the essay, as it relates to me, and not the essay as a whole. This will be true of all of my responses. There is much that I've read that I am not including in this blog, whether I have a reason beyond space for that or not.
(Page 17) "The idea that women might want to have sex for pleasure without having to carry a pregnancy for nine months afterward and then raise a child is quite contrary to conservative values."
I don't understand the sex-negative, supposedly "pro-life," mind set, except at a reflection that women should be punished for having sex. If a girl doesn't know where or how to procure birth control (common with abstinence-only sex ed) and ends up in a relationship that leads to sex, even if that sex is coercive, she is then shamed as a slut for ending up pregnant (never mind that he should be just as responsible for birth control as she is). And despite the "pro-life" view that the fetus should have rights and be carried to term no matter what, the same people who protest abortions turn their backs on providing social services and financial support to mothers once the baby is born. How is that anything but punitive?
My focus, however, is not on conservative hatred of our so-called welfare state. This slut-shaming is why I am posting anonymously. A girl merely being sexually active is reason enough in too many minds for boys to go for the score instead of making damn sure that the girl they're with truly consents. Boys will be boys & girls should watch out, right? Wrong. Men who truly enjoy sex have a much, much better time with an enthusiastic woman. What's the fun in fucking someone who's scared stiff or just quietly lying there because it's easier than arguing? Sex should be fun.
(Page 20) "Men are rational human beings fully capable of listening to their partners and understanding that sex isn't about pushing someone to do something they don't want to do. Plenty of men are able to grasp the idea that sex should be entered into joyfully and enthusiastically by both partners, and that an absence of 'no' isn't enough--'yes' should be the baseline requirement."
Once upon a time when I was 18, I met a guy, JRS. JRS flirted heavily, and then never stopped. While I had grown up standing up for myself fairly often, I didn't stand up for myself that day. He ended up taking off my panties, lifting my skirt, leaning me against a table, and doing as he pleased. I froze. My response was nil. No sounds, no squirming, no delight. I just stood there.
And then he flipped me over and continued using my body by fucking me in the ass. It was excruciating. I yelped in pain. He said oops and kept on going.
Eventually he flipped me over yet again--which lead to my first yeast infection. And I was left wondering what the hell just happened --how had I LET that happen? Did he rape me? I never said no. What should I call this?
Sadly, this is a much too common experience, and shortly after I found myself in a relationship with a man who raped me repeatedly. But that's another story. I do wonder, though, how much my emotional disquiet from this "misunderstanding" and the emotionally abusive relationship I'd just left kept me from leaving that relationship more quickly. I was reeling.
My confusion as to how to name and understand my experience made it all the harder to process and grieve, remember my voice, and move on. I eventually labeled it a horrible misunderstanding, which I now find problematic, but I made myself re-learn how to say no forcefully before I allowed myself to date again.
Now my partners simply stop if they don't get an enthusiastic response from me. I have no worries that my husband or lover(s) will continue pushing unwanted attention when faced with hesitation from me. They get no pleasure from non-enthusiastic sex.
Last week a woman I work with explained that in the last weeks of their relationship, her ex-boyfriend continued with intercourse even though she locked her legs together against him, shielded her breasts from his hands with her arms, and even grabbed the bed to resist him. "I didn't say no," she told me. My response to her was "that's rape." She resisted, and he ignored her. A lack of verbal no is not an excuse.
I've committed to teaching my children that only yes means yes. Hesitation means no. Lack of response means no. Removing wandering hands means no. Admitting to being uncertain and neverous--all of it means no.
And my decision to teach enthusiasm as the standard is why "horrible misunderstanding" now seems inadequate to explain what happened with JRS.
My response focuses on pieces of the essay, as it relates to me, and not the essay as a whole. This will be true of all of my responses. There is much that I've read that I am not including in this blog, whether I have a reason beyond space for that or not.
(Page 17) "The idea that women might want to have sex for pleasure without having to carry a pregnancy for nine months afterward and then raise a child is quite contrary to conservative values."
I don't understand the sex-negative, supposedly "pro-life," mind set, except at a reflection that women should be punished for having sex. If a girl doesn't know where or how to procure birth control (common with abstinence-only sex ed) and ends up in a relationship that leads to sex, even if that sex is coercive, she is then shamed as a slut for ending up pregnant (never mind that he should be just as responsible for birth control as she is). And despite the "pro-life" view that the fetus should have rights and be carried to term no matter what, the same people who protest abortions turn their backs on providing social services and financial support to mothers once the baby is born. How is that anything but punitive?
My focus, however, is not on conservative hatred of our so-called welfare state. This slut-shaming is why I am posting anonymously. A girl merely being sexually active is reason enough in too many minds for boys to go for the score instead of making damn sure that the girl they're with truly consents. Boys will be boys & girls should watch out, right? Wrong. Men who truly enjoy sex have a much, much better time with an enthusiastic woman. What's the fun in fucking someone who's scared stiff or just quietly lying there because it's easier than arguing? Sex should be fun.
(Page 20) "Men are rational human beings fully capable of listening to their partners and understanding that sex isn't about pushing someone to do something they don't want to do. Plenty of men are able to grasp the idea that sex should be entered into joyfully and enthusiastically by both partners, and that an absence of 'no' isn't enough--'yes' should be the baseline requirement."
Once upon a time when I was 18, I met a guy, JRS. JRS flirted heavily, and then never stopped. While I had grown up standing up for myself fairly often, I didn't stand up for myself that day. He ended up taking off my panties, lifting my skirt, leaning me against a table, and doing as he pleased. I froze. My response was nil. No sounds, no squirming, no delight. I just stood there.
And then he flipped me over and continued using my body by fucking me in the ass. It was excruciating. I yelped in pain. He said oops and kept on going.
Eventually he flipped me over yet again--which lead to my first yeast infection. And I was left wondering what the hell just happened --how had I LET that happen? Did he rape me? I never said no. What should I call this?
Sadly, this is a much too common experience, and shortly after I found myself in a relationship with a man who raped me repeatedly. But that's another story. I do wonder, though, how much my emotional disquiet from this "misunderstanding" and the emotionally abusive relationship I'd just left kept me from leaving that relationship more quickly. I was reeling.
My confusion as to how to name and understand my experience made it all the harder to process and grieve, remember my voice, and move on. I eventually labeled it a horrible misunderstanding, which I now find problematic, but I made myself re-learn how to say no forcefully before I allowed myself to date again.
Now my partners simply stop if they don't get an enthusiastic response from me. I have no worries that my husband or lover(s) will continue pushing unwanted attention when faced with hesitation from me. They get no pleasure from non-enthusiastic sex.
Last week a woman I work with explained that in the last weeks of their relationship, her ex-boyfriend continued with intercourse even though she locked her legs together against him, shielded her breasts from his hands with her arms, and even grabbed the bed to resist him. "I didn't say no," she told me. My response to her was "that's rape." She resisted, and he ignored her. A lack of verbal no is not an excuse.
I've committed to teaching my children that only yes means yes. Hesitation means no. Lack of response means no. Removing wandering hands means no. Admitting to being uncertain and neverous--all of it means no.
And my decision to teach enthusiasm as the standard is why "horrible misunderstanding" now seems inadequate to explain what happened with JRS.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)