The Trouble with Halloween

•October 31, 2011 • Leave a Comment

I stopped going to Halloween parties a few years ago. This year I was trying to figure out why I’d become such a humbug about a holiday that used to bring me so much joy as a kid. And I realized it’s because I got tired of the “sexy costume” phenomenon.

The last time I attended a Halloween party, I was not in a costume that revealed much cleavage or leg. It was not an unflattering outfit, but it was clearly not intended to be sexy. I spent most of the party drifting around, orbiting the outer edges of conversations while the men at the party chatted up the sexy nurse, the Charlie’s Angel, and the woman who wasn’t anything in particular but had on fishnet tights and not much else. And it was not just the men who seemed to think I had failed in my Halloween costume duties. The women at the party looked at me like I was some kind of weirdo. The lesson I took from that evening was this: If I want to have fun at a Halloween party, it doesn’t matter how clever or original my costume might be. No one will give me the time of day if I don’t go slutty.

Men often talk about Halloween as though it’s Christmas morning: the one day of the year when women feel they have permission to dress sexy. I have two problems with this conception of the holiday. First, why don’t we have permission every other day of the year? I am hardly prudish about these things. Modesty has never been one of my hang ups. I would walk around naked if society (and the weather) allowed. And I do enjoy getting dressed up in a way that flatters my body. But why should I only have “permission” to do that once a year? Why should I be judged harshly for embracing my sexy side on the other 364 days?

My second frustration with this framing of the holiday is the reality that this special “permission” becomes an expectation. The only thing I resent more than being told I shouldn’t look too sexy is being told that I OUGHT to look sexy. It’s my body. When the decision to exhibit it is no longer mine, that implies it is somehow public property. And I would rather be thought an uptight prude than public property. Though I would like to think those are not my only two options since, to those who know me, I am obviously neither.

So here’s to candy and staying out late and letting our imaginations run away with us. I will save my fishnets and four-inch heels for next week.

Posted in Appropriate for most audiences, Ok to read at work

Why there aren’t more nice guys

•May 30, 2011 • 3 Comments

I think the most frequent complaint I hear from straight single women is that there just aren’t enough “nice guys” out there. This is not one of those bizarre mysteries of life that can’t be explained…

There are actually two problems: 1) Ours is not a culture that considers “nice” to be a masculine quality and 2) Women don’t always know how to appreciate a nice guy when they do stumble across one. These are in many ways just different sides of the same coin, but we tend to discuss them (or ignore them) as completely separate issues.

The qualities we consider “manly” these days have more to do with ambition and action than with kindness and reflection. To consider other people’s feelings, or even to understand your own, is fucking gay. (Why that is still such a bad thing is another important discussion for another time.) Men who, left to their own devices, are inclined to be sweet and considerate are often taught that such behavior is no way to get ahead in this world. Men who “look out for #1” and bulldoze anyone who gets in their way are rewarded. When we so often reward this kind of antisocial behavior, why should we then expect men to go against everything they’ve been told they’re supposed to do, just so they can be more compassionate partners? Not that men aren’t capable of rising above the most basic social programing. Many do. But once they have already started swimming against the tide of “appropriate masculine behavior,” what rewards await them?

I frequently find myself in conversations with women who wish that the men in their lives would be more sensitive to their feelings and treat them with more respect. But, in those conversations, these same women will often say that they wish a particular man would “take charge” or “grow a pair.” While it might be humanly possible to walk the very fine line between respectful and dominant, you are probably setting yourself up for disappointment if you expect anyone of any sex to embody both qualities all the time.

I suspect that most women who want a man to “take charge” are looking for strength rather than dominance. But we’ve learned to look for signs of strength that can often be misleading. The truth is, being kind doesn’t make a man weak. And telling you what to do doesn’t make him strong. Being able to admit that he is imperfect and vulnerable is sometimes a greater sign of strength than exuding confidence and certainty. And, if you want a healthy relationship, the ability to be himself around you is of much greater value than his ability to act a part.

Perhaps if we are better at figuring out exactly what it is that we want, we will have more reasonable expectations. And if our expectations are more reasonable, we are less likely to be disappointed all the time. There are a surprising number of nice guys out there. We just need to convince them it’s ok to show their true colors and not punish them for being the people we claim we want them to be.

Posted in Appropriate for most audiences

All your uterus are belong to us

•March 29, 2011 • 3 Comments

I wish I could take credit for the title of this post, but my friend Lee was the first person I heard use that phrase. It so perfectly describes the latest wave of culture wars being waged in our political discourse these days. The reclaiming of women’s bodies as public property is in full swing. You see it in so many laws coming up in state legislatures. You see it in the effort to defund Planned Parenthood and financially punish insurance companies that cover abortion.

Maybe this push to unilaterally dictate what women should and shouldn’t do with their reproductive organs comes from a religious influence. Sex is a sin and women are unclean and a source of temptation. Or maybe it comes from a resentful backlash against the ways feminists have helped to restructure our society over the last several decades. Perhaps it’s a bit of both. But whatever the driving motivation, it plays out in women’s everyday lives just as much as it plays out in our politics. The message is that the ultimate purpose of a woman’s body is to bear children. When they are not serving this purpose, women’s bodies are over sexualized. And because, in their non-life-giving state, they are defined primarily as objects of desire, why would a man not treat a woman as just that: an object.

A man takes a picture of a bartender when she’s not looking because she has great tits. A woman walking down the street in a flattering dress gets wolf whistles from the men who drive by. A man nicknames a female co-worker after some part of her anatomy he finds pleasing.

I always hear the same thing when I complain about these moments. “I just think you’re beautiful!” “You should take it as a compliment.” “Isn’t it better than being told you’re ugly?” I won’t deny that a real compliment on my appearance can brighten my day. But I can feel the difference between compliment and objectification in the pit of my stomach. A compliment comes from a place of respect and its purpose is to make someone feel good. To look me up and down like I’m something to eat and tell me my ass could stop traffic doesn’t come from a place of respect and has nothing to do with how I feel. Sometimes I wish men who do this would just come up and pee on me because at least then we could be clear that this is an effort to claim a piece of my sexuality the way a dog marks a favorite tree at the park.

Woman. The Final Frontier. These are the voyages of a man trying to find his place in the world. His lifelong mission: to claim new territory, to seek out constant validation of his manhood, and to boldly assume that no man has ever tried that cheesy line before.

As frustrating as this phenomenon may be, and as much as I hate the way these men make me feel, I don’t hate the men themselves. While there are certainly men who were raised (or have learned) not to behave like that (and boy do I appreciate them), many men think of this as just part of being a guy. Their fathers did it, their friends do it, and it has gotten them laid before. It’s in movies and tv shows and music videos and commercials. The world tells them, “This is how a man behaves.” It’s just part of the accepted dialogue between men and women. And how can I really resent a man for acting the way he thinks men should behave, especially when I’m not doing anything to change his behavior?

Am I asking for it? Of course not. Do I deserve to be treated with respect? Indeed I do. But, in that moment of anger and often public humiliation, how do I find a constructive way to make a man understand that this is not ok? Seriously. I’m asking. When I push back too hard, they get defensive and don’t hear a word I say. I just become that Bitch Who Can’t Take A Joke. If I don’t push back hard enough, they think I’m joking. Or worse, flirting. So, when a man drives past me, licks his lips, and shouts “Looking hot, Mami,” what do I yell back? “I wish I could say the same for you?” “I’m sorry, sir, but this property is not for sale?” “If you want a piece of meat, find a butcher?” Somehow none of the quick retorts I think up seem to elevate the discourse. I’m not looking for a fight because these men are not my enemies. They (mostly unknowingly) contribute just one more piece of a much larger pattern that undermines women’s sense of self-worth.

When this is what so many men learn to do, and what so many women learn to accept as normal, it is difficult to imagine how any one of us acting alone can change the course of such a strong current. However, if we are ever going to change this aspect the way men and women interact, it would help if our legislators stopped telling women that they are not qualified to make important decisions about their own bodies. With such a dramatic blurring of the lines between personal space and public discourse, why wouldn’t men feel that they are entitled to comment on my appearance the way you might comment on your neighbor’s choice of landscaping? Afterall, the future activities of my uterus are frequently up for a vote in the US House of Representatives.

Posted in Appropriate for most audiences
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Where has all the real sex gone?

•March 1, 2011 • 1 Comment

If I told you I had sex last night would you judge? If I described it in detail would you squirm?

A lot of Americans are very uncomfortable with sex. I’m not just talking about the “family values” crowd who think that sex is dirty and wrong and depictions of it in movies will destroy the moral fabric of our nation. I’m talking about your average HBO subscriber, Cosmo or GQ reader, even people who are regular consumers of porn. It is surprisingly easy to make even these unsheltered, worldly individuals uncomfortable if you talk about sex with any real accuracy or detail. This is because what we see spicing up our television screens and seducing us in the hopes that we will buy a particular brand of vodka is a fiction, a fantasy, a mirage.

Real sex isn’t like that. Real sex is vulnerable and imperfect. Real sex is sloppy and unpredictable. Real sex has smells and tastes. Real sex doesn’t magically have a mood appropriate sound track. Real sex doesn’t come with an editor to cut around the awkward moment when you accidentally elbow your partner in the face. Real sex doesn’t fade out before the clean up. Real sex doesn’t come with flattering lighting. And that’s what makes it so glorious. It’s something genuine that you get to share with another human being.

Unfortunately, the fantasy is everywhere. When people say “sex sells,” they mean imaginary glamorized sex. And the more this carefully crafted fiction works its way into our everyday life and consciousness, the more we come to expect it to materialize in reality. This expectation makes us lose sight of what’s wonderful about real sex. And the more disconnected we become from the reality of sex, the harder it is for us to have a healthy relationship with it. If we are chasing a fantasy that never really existed, we will never be truly satisfied with ourselves or our partners.

Yet even people who manage to keep the fantasy in it’s place (and I would never deny that there is a place for fantasy in our sex lives) often have trouble openly discussing sex with their partners. It’s difficult to look someone in the eye and form the words to ask for what you really want, or explain your reasons for the things you don’t want. Because as soon as the fiction leaves the room and we are left to stare down the reality, the old notion that sex is dirty and wrong creeps back in to fill the void left between us and the real sex we face.

But if we can cast away the guilt and the shame, refuse to use the fictional sex as a crutch, and embrace that reality… just imagine the possibilities. And those possibilities you are imagining, my friend, they are an excellent use of fantasy.

Posted in Appropriate for most audiences
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How Valentine’s Day is killing romance…

•February 13, 2011 • 3 Comments

When I tell people that I hate Valentine’s Day, they usually want to know why I’m so unromantic. And how many cats I have. But the truth is I am a romantic. And that is exactly why I hate Valentine’s Day. February 14th has become the formulaic, obligatory, and thoroughly commercialized version of what passes for romance in this culture. The idea that there is one specific day of the year when we ought to be romantic offends me. And the idea that romance can be purchased at a convenience store on your way home from work makes me sad.

I didn’t come to this point of view by way of some great Valentine’s Day trauma. Just a recurring feeling of vague disappointment that for the longest time I couldn’t explain. Now I firmly believe that Valentine’s Day represents the way we focus on all the wrong things in our relationships. The holiday brings with it a set of expectations that does a disservice to all sexes and all types of relationships. Not only because these expectations revolve largely around the assumption that you can buy your way into (and out of) any situation, but also because these expectations are painted with broad, impersonal strokes that have nothing to do with the reality of your relationship.

I believe that true romance is the celebration of what is special and unique about a relationship, not the obligatory gesture to make a relationship seem as much like everyone else’s as possible. But instead of the deeply intimate and personal love letter, we have the stale and generic sentiments of a Hallmark card. And instead of thinking about the people we love and what makes them happy, we think about the holiday and what we are supposed to expect. On a day that is supposed to celebrate being thoughtful towards the ones we love, the thought counts less than the price tag. If you can’t afford the more expensive gestures, then maybe you just didn’t care enough or try hard enough. If you can afford the splurge, then you learn that your value comes not from your heart and mind, but from your wallet.

The other more insidious side to Valentine’s Day is the value judgment built into all the ways we are sold the holiday. If you are in a relationship but it doesn’t look like the one that happy-beautiful-straight-white-30something couple in the Kay Jewelers ad has, there is something wrong with your relationship. But it’s nothing a diamond pendant called Destiny’s Promise can’t fix! And if you aren’t in a relationship, well… this holiday doesn’t apply to you. But at least you can count on buying discount chocolate on February 15th.

I’ve never had (or particularly wanted) the “As Seen on TV” relationship and I think that being single can be quite a positive thing. Yet when I fall asleep alone tomorrow night, I will feel just a little lonelier than usual. Not because anything in my life has changed or because I regret any of the decisions that have led me to this place in my life. I will feel that twinge because, for the past week, it has been impossible to walk down the street or turn on a television or even open my email account without being bombarded by images of pink hearts and cupids and happy couples. When you marinate in something for long enough, it’s impossible not to pick up a bit of its flavor. No matter how much you hate the taste.

So, for all of you who feel disappointed or isolated or judged this weekend, you are not alone…

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed these thoughts, please come back to check out the full launch of this blog on March 1st. You can also follow Sex and the Single Feminist on Twitter @SSFBlog for notification of new postings, interesting links, and random insights delivered in 140 characters or less.

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