The issue of toilet paper use is an eco-feminist issue

Life has a way of forcing change on you.

I grew up knowing about toilet squatting women who wouldn't sit on a public toilet, but position themselves over the seat, pee, then get up and leave. I never mastered the technique, however; I'd always end up having to clean up the mess that was left behind, including wiping the floor. (If you're a man and think that women's public toilets aren't nasty, then you've never been in one.)

After my surgery recently - when it was painful even to sit up - I was introduced to the bedside toilet. It's a makeshift toilet with a pan underneath it to catch the pee. Later, the nurses would empty the pan in the real toilet. However, the nurses didn't leave me any toilet paper next to the bedside toilet. So I'd sit on it, pee, then wait a few moments before getting up and crawling back into bed.

That bedside toilet habit carried over in my home life. Now I sit on my toilet seat, pee, wait a few moments, then get up. This method's still new to me, so I haven't figured it all out yet; but I still wash my hands when I'm done. Sometimes, however, I get up too quickly and have to wipe the seat clear of the pee drops. Even then, I only use a square piece of toilet paper.

When I'm doing the other business that isn't pee, I have no issue using toilet paper. Once I start bleeding, I'll be using significantly more toilet paper since it's a good vagina plug; that's how I manage not to stain other people's furniture. One day, I'm going to try to see how it works to use rags that I wash; but I'm not at that stage yet.

If you're thinking this is disgusting, allow me: Men pee all the time without using toilet paper. Why do women need to?

Both genders have openings that pee shoots out of. More importantly, urine is clean. I don't think the same can be said for poop; also, men use toilet paper like women to wipe the hole feces pump out of.

But, in terms of the environment, there's a strong argument against women using toilet paper to wipe themselves after they pee: It's more stuff that gets mixed into our environment. If we're really serious about protecting the environment, as well as committed to the idea that little things can make a big difference, then we have every obligation to use less toilet paper.

Yes, women, that's what I'm saying: We're contributing more pollution to the environment than men are in terms of our toilet paper use. I don't even remember how I learned that I needed to wipe myself with toilet paper after I peed; I just know that I've been doing it for most of my life. Yet, the more I learn in my Environmental Management program, and the more I start to pay attention to the media in regards to the environment, the more I ask: What can I do to lessen my burden on the environment?

That's right, the issue of women's toilet paper use is an eco-feminist issue. It's time we stop talking about what we're going to do to protect the environment, and start doing. I'm just beginning to learn what I can do. I'll return to this subject later.

My video response to Jenny Craig commercial with Phylicia Rashad

Is veganism compatible with motherhood?: A question

I have no idea why this question popped into my head the other day. However, it's been troubling me, really compelling me to write about it. It should be clear, too, that I mean nothing against vegans; it's just the concept of veganism and motherhood that intrigues me.

Like, I think I get the position of vegans regarding things like milk. It's the production aspects of commercialized dairy products that's bothersome. Of course, you should know that I'm a self-proclaimed carnivore; I eat ground beef, steak, pork chops, and chicken, and have tried alligator (or crocodile; I can never get this straight) and emu sausage (absolute best). I also enjoy breaded shrimp and fish, and I've experimented with fried squid (didn't like it) and clam (wasn't thrilled by them). These are my informed choices; I've seen documentaries of slaughtered beef, as well as images of dead chickens - and I still eat meat.

The point of this post isn't to debate the issue of whether one should or shouldn't eat meat. It occurs to me, however, that if vegans - and be aware that there are different kinds of vegans, so keep in mind that I'm speaking generally - don't eat or drink anything that comes from an animal, do they apply this limitation to breastfeeding?

We are, regardless of what anyone might say to the contrary, a mammal species; that is, we're animals, too. Breastfeeding is the best milk option for newborns and older children (like I remember hearing about a woman who still breastfed her child through at least six years of age). It's also a byproduct of pregnancy; that is, it's a natural part of our female processes. (Now, this is ignoring the man who gave birth, and is currently pregnant again; I remember catching something about this on television a while back. I just didn't watch the show or whatever.)

What does it mean, therefore, for a female vegan who takes an orthodox view of animals to breastfeed? In my view, doing so represents a complete contradiction. Like, you can't say you're against animal products but also be the source of an animal product. On the other hand, if you refuse to breastfeed, then you're denying a baby important nutrients and antibodies. (This is, of course, ignoring all of the issues associated with HIV/AIDs infected babies, drug babies, etc.)

Anyway, I plan to explore this further in a later post. I'm just putting it there as something to think about: Is veganism compatible with motherhood?

Live the world like a dream and break the rules: A Memoir

Years ago, as a wild child of a different era, I danced in a cage shirtless, ran naked around a neighborhood, stood outside as the rain soaked me in ... - all one time experiences. Did you really think I'd change so much in ten years?

By my late twenties, I tried new things: being public in panties and shoes, nude modeling, shaving my head hair ... Then I let go of bras, deodorants, hairbrushes.

I've never hid behind conventions, pretensions - that is, when it came to who I was, I've always taken risks. I know what real love is, but also the differences between crushes, infatuations ...

Even more personally, I've known what it feels for an egg to drop, when I came into my sexuality ... I haven't compromised myself despite the pressures.

Feminism isn't who I am; it's an expression of it. I don't break rules just to break them; I do it to test myself. There's no limit to the individual, but the sanctions imposed on by society ...

Are you so sure of yourself? That depends, I suppose, on how much you are outside of yourself as you are in. Be who you are when no one's around and when they are, and the world is yours; it's called disinhibition. My suggestion: Don't be afraid of it; the more you constrain yourself, the more you lose yourself.

Addressing Radicalism: What Feminism Means

So my women's studies professor, on Thurs., used the word "radical" to describe my feminism. (It was the first time she directly addressed me; until then, she offered indirect hints - and understand that this is going on during class times, not in private). Of course, I have no idea how to read her; I just assume that I discomfit her. Regarding a class in Fall 2008 that she's co-teaching, I told her, in a one on one meeting that same day, "The only relevant issue is whether you'd be uncomfortable with me in the class." She responded, "I'm very comfortable with you." I said, "Okay," which is the same as saying: We'll see how true that is. Seriously, you can't offer me a challenge like that and expect me to walk away. It's not like I plan to be any different than I have been; rather, it has to do with seeing how well her actions back up her words. Of course, some people are very good at distancing their professional and personal selves, but since she's already slipped in this class...Personally, I suspect that if I'd said that I wouldn't be offended or angry if she were uncomfortable - followed up with, Are you sure? - she might've said no.)

As I said in class, however, "I don't consider myself to be 'radical.'" But I wasn't really paying that much attention. I mean, I've been thinking about it a while before then, but I don't believe I knew where I was going with that statement until this weekend. So while I had the opportunity to explain what I think is at the core of feminism - which by itself makes feminism a radical concept - I didn't take it. What I shared instead was that I didn't claim feminism until 1999 because I'd associated it with lesbians/bisexuals; that is, I believed that you had to be a lesbian/bisexual to be a feminist. That veil of ignorance was lifted as a result of a professor who not only gave us readings from feminists who weren't lesbians/bisexuals (though we also read a few excerpts from lesbians/bisexuals), but also introduced this radical concept: Feminism, at its core, means acknowledging that women are equal to men (and vice versa).

If you're a feminist, you might be thinking: Yeah, so what? (That is, the concept isn't new and, in today's world, women have advanced in almost every nation, including those we might be tempted to dismiss because we imagine that women are oppressed at every level. This may be truer in some instances, but too often, especially in countries like the U.S., the problem of ethnocentrism gets in the way of reading cultures otherwise; and there's really no excuse for it, given the scholarship that exists addressing the different expressions of feminisms that exist within particular contexts rather than within a globalized framework. Then again, as in my example, to get rid of ignorance, sometimes you need someone else to guide you when you wouldn't have (on your own) or haven't (because of your experiences, etc.) been exposed to information that disrupts your own knowledge base.)

It's not enough, however, for people to say: Oh, of course women are equal to men. I mean, sure, women still get paid less than men in many instances - and what would you say to the idea that if women (men) really are working less than men (women), then maybe, to make it equal, women (men) should be retiring later than men (women) to make up for the differences that raising children (biological or otherwise) may mean on women (men)? - but women can get a lot of the same jobs as men. It also used to be that women couldn't vote, obtain an education (even basic literacy), wear jeans (it used to be a legal offense in the earlier part of the twentieth century, based on what I remember a guy sharing with me), own businesses, receive any divisions of property and assets in cases of divorce or widowhood, etc. We can't, however, say that women never worked until the women's rights movement. Also, we can't ignore that those who most benefited from the major changes in policy that followed were, initially, white middle/upper class women; now, it's mostly middle/upper class women regardless of race. The focus has since shifted to the roles of women in countries whose cultural norms and historical antecedents are different, requiring the sensitivity and appreciation that many (Western) feminists ignore. [And note that I'm mostly addressing a U.S. perspective.]

What makes the concept that women (and men) are equal to men (and women) radical is that once a feminist accepts it, she (or he) will begin asking questions. For me, it may be different because, as I've said, I grew up with a single mom, lived in apartments, etc., which means that in some significant ways I've become very individuated as a person. I was also, for thirty years, ambivalent about being Hispanic; I neither fit into white culture (though I was frequently around it) nor Hispanic culture (which I rarely experienced). The way I feel is aptly expressed in one of Edgar Allen Poe's short poems where he talks about what it is to be different: always a part of something in ways that set you apart from it. My traumatic experiences in Claremont, CA, however, also made me intensely aware of what it means to be an outlier in a pool of variables that are, on the whole, the same (exempting individual differences, what I'm talking about is class status); the strength I gained from that, however, is what's made it possible for me to be unafraid of taking risks as I continue to challenge what it means to be an American/U.S. woman in today's time (from shaving my head* to not wearing bras).

What I would've said in class, had I been able to articulate it, is this: I'm only "radical" to people who've never questioned the image of how a woman is supposed to act and look. My experiments - because you need to know that I'm not only aware of what I'm doing (that my choices are deliberate and directly related to my expressions of feminism), but I'm also evaluating other people's responses to me - are based on that premise of questioning what a woman should and shouldn't look like and act. For example: Does it make me less of a woman to not have hair on my head? Surprisingly, I received several compliments that I was "pretty": a term that was rarely used to describe me before then because of my fat body. It's only recently, however, that I'm wondering how much of that had to do with people's hidden assumptions that I might've had cancer; yet I'm also seeing (African) models with shaved heads (if you watch America's Next Top Model, you'll have seen one episode in which the competitors had to wear bald caps; however, I also saw a hairless model on a CoverGirl® commercial**, which seems to suggest a social acceptance of bald women).

However, I'm also aware of the implications for other people to comment (or not comment) about my choice to be bra-less. Ignoring that I'm comfortable not wearing a bra - in fact, I think wearing a bra is unnatural; not only do the straps cut into shoulders and leave marks under the breasts, but the design of the apparatus, over time, also works to constrict the circulatory system, etc. - let's not forget that I'm not breaking any laws by not wearing a bra. Two larger issues, however, potentially affect people's responses to me - which quite possibly has to do with the problems (and perhaps occasional benefits) of a social world that is overly mindful of political correctness - if what they fear is: that they will lay the ground for a sexual harassment claim (psychologically, this may have to do with acknowledging that I have breasts and that what's attracting their notice is the size or movement of my breasts); that they will be calling attention to my perceived class status (which assumes that I can't afford to buy a bra).

I am, as I said, a direct challenge to people, even if on an unconscious level. The problem, though, is trying to set the ground for a discussion about socialization. It's almost impossible to imagine that no matter how free one's choice seems to be, the choices concerning how we (women and men) look has a social context that's difficult to disentangle depending on your significant mother figure (biological or step- or other mother, aunt, grandmother, friend, etc.), significant father figure (biological or step- or other father, uncle, grandfather, friend, etc.), friends, etc. For example, a woman who grew up seeing her mom with makeup associates that in her choice to wear makeup. A woman whose mother put makeup on her associates that bonding/intimacy in her choice to wear makeup. A woman who grew up with friends who wore makeup associates that shared comaraderie in her choice to wear makeup. And on and on.

For the choice to wear makeup to be really free, the woman who wears makeup has to question the very basis for wearing makeup. She has to evaluate herself to know if she really likes the texture of wearing makeup, if she understands the consequences of where makeup comes from and how it affects skin (in terms of aging), etc. Without any of that, however, the decision to wear makeup has nothing to do with personal choice but the pressures she has grown up with and implicitly (unconsciously) naturalized in terms of the image she has of what a woman should look like. She also learns how to behave based on those models, and even when she rebels, it's often only temporary because she doesn't know how to contextualize her struggle: Am I doing this out of my own choice, as a rejection of values/influence I don't accept, or because that's all I've really known and not doing so may be cause for rejection? Etc.

So, first, one has to not just recognize that women (men) are equal to men (women), but also act on it. It doesn't just mean recontextualizing ourselves (women and men) in terms how we have responded to the pressures placed on us since we were too young to really understand what was happening, but also asking what it means to be a feminist. Working, for instance: It's only feminism to work if you have the option not to and you're doing something you want; then again, the decision to stay at home when one has the option to work is only feminism when it's an informed choice (and not automatic based on the models one has grown up with). But don't worry! I'll come back to all of this in another post!

* I shaved my hair twice in 2006. The only reason I haven't done so since is out of deference to my mom, who asked me not to shave it again. She's come a long way, too, though; as much as she doesn't like the idea of my not wearing a bra, she hasn't asked me to discontinue that practice because she understands that it has to do with me being a feminist.

** Corporations like CoverGirl® and Kellogg's® (in the marketing of its Special K® brand specifically), among others, are using different sized women in their advertisements. However, while they're challenging social norms concerning the ideal body type for women, they're also feeding into the social norms that continue to define how women should look. The problem is exacerbated by the socialization processes involving girls, who are fashioned through the models of the women around them. For this reason, I'm surprised that there hasn't been a lot of debate concerning the sexualized images of girls in commercials; for example, I recently saw a DQ® commercial in which a girl smiles at a boy and gets a free ice cream. The mother's reaction is shock when she hears the daughter say: "It's like shooting fish in a barrel" - yet she doesn't say anything. I'm reminded, too, of the commercial involving a male adolescent (in one of the gum commercials that talks about "dirty teeth") who hits on a friend's mom, but the woman does nothing to counter it. In both instances, the audience is being told something specific about relationships between men and women; women remain objects of desire, while men continue to be desexualized.

The Issue of Women's Burden: A Preliminary Grounding

It's so funny. In one class this semester, two female students attacked me for contributing a feminist voice to two separate discussions. It's one of those things: If you don't want to hear an opposing view, don't share anything that opens an entryway for it.

So, anyway, I replied to Tiffany and talked about the issue of burden I feared she might be carrying, given what she contributed. First, her jobs consume a significant portion of her time each week (I'd guess 50-60 hours). Secondly, she's carrying at least 12 hours of classes. Finally, even though she has a live-in boyfriend, she's responsible for the housework.

I would've been interested to see how she replied, but the female student who did (Christina) is married and apparently feels unexpressed resentment toward her husband who also doesn't contribute to "housecleaning." Obviously, if someone's married, there's not a lot you can say regarding the issue of women's burden.

By agreeing to that mutual contract voluntarily (as there are many women who don't have the option to choose - and I'd argue that it's extremely unfair to criticize them without considering the historical circumstances that lend the socio-politico-cultural structures through which ideas of marriage and women's place are constrained/defined by (including our American culture)), what we're saying is: This is the person I want to be with regardless of his (her) faults, which I'm well aware of and accept. And while I imagine that there might be some things a wife (or husband) wouldn't know about her (his) husband (wife), there's no way you're going to convince me that she (he) didn't know what he (she) was when she (he) chose to marry him (her).

For example, men (women) who cheat will more often than not do it again. The other giveaway is how men (women) treat women (men), and the expectations they share about what they expect in a marriage. And if you're not talking about this with your man (woman) before you commit (and I know a lot of people don't entertain the concept of marriage integrity, which means fidelity not just to each other but to the institution of marriage which is founded on trust, communication, and longevity), don't complain. Any commitment like marriage requires the seriousness of consideration and devotion; you can't have equality otherwise.

Women, to this day - regardless of how far we've come politically, socially and individually - are still expected to fulfill the traditional roles of mother and wife. What we often leave out of conversations, however, is that these roles come packaged with sets of expectations that include (but aren't limited to) housework (cooking, cleaning, etc.), behavior (including modesty and conservativism), and performance (basically, public vs. private*).

So what we as women (men) deserve is: a man (woman) who genuinely loves us, respect us as women (men), appreciates our contributions to the relationship, supports us in all that we do, etc. There's nothing wrong with a woman (man) who, having the option to not work, chooses to be a stay at home mom (dad) if it's really something she (he) wants (and not because her (his) family - inside and outside the marriage - or friends or other people have made being a stay at home mother (father) an obligation, expectation, responsibility, etc. that a woman (man) assumes as a wife (husband)) because she (he) has thought about it; that is, it's an informed decision based on an awareness of the options available to her (him) as a woman (man) in today's society. [Again, I'm talking about socialization - but I'm saving the discussion for later!]

Why the () with the opposite sex/pronoun? Because there are many men who experience the opposite reality: a woman who suppresses them; seriously, a lot of women have beaten, raped, and otherwise taken advantage of men. (Don't believe me? Do the research.) Let's also not forget that in several states (I think) men can marry other men - as can women - so the same rules apply, but then it's a whole other thing called femininity vs. masculinity, which, by the way, applies to all sexes. As I've said, I'm heterosexual, and that's where I primarily speak from.

So, you see, there was a lot of subtext in my response to Tiffany. Were we sharing a conversation, I might've had the opportunity to go more in-depth on the topic. This didn't happen, however. At the same time, it's interesting that Christina jumped in as she did. Think about it: Was there any reason for her to be scared by what I said? Did I really say anything new?

What I'm really talking about, however, is stereotype threat, which is essentially anything that forces you to step outside of your box; the less secure you are about who you are, the more radical/extreme/dangerous/crazy someone else seems who says/behaves/responds with any knowledge/opinion/experience that falls outside of your boundaries. But don't worry! I'll revisit this concept in another post. I just want you to start thinking about it.


* In other words, people often behave differently at home than in other places. We've already, as a society, seen the consequences of this duality. The most visible of them is domestic abuse. Less frequently discussed is the issue of rape within a marriage; I know there's been a lot of debate on it, but I'm not sure what (if any) policy changes have been implemented as a result. I'm sure there are other examples; I just can't think of anything else offhand.

Radicalizing Prostitution: The First Step in Dismantling Difference

I should warn you, first, that I'm at present still taking a women's studies class this semester. So in one book we read, I discovered that BarbieTM was originally a prostitute doll in Germany. Here we have this national icon that is known the world over primarily as a middle class white woman who's had her look and measurements revised several times, and yet she's exactly the kind of woman most parents today still don't want their sons/daughters involved with!

Why is it so hard then for us to recognize that street prostitutes - male and female - are no different from the rest of us? Haven't I already said that dating is, theoretically, about marriage, but in reality, as my landlord's wife shared, it's really about sex. You don't date, according to her, unless you're in it for the sex. I don't disagree with that; I think, ultimately, sex is the point. I mean, even if you don't have sex until you're married, you're going to eventually have sex. And just because you don't have sex with the person you're currently with doesn't mean you're not going to have sex with the next (or previous) person, etc.

More importantly, I've said that people who date/marry, etc. are paying for sex. (Even when married partners pay half and half on everything, they're still paying for something! - but at least the prostitution would be on terms of equality, which is saying something!) Whether the guy or girl pays for dinner, gifts, etc., the minute you enter into sex, you're giving what you've been paid to do (male or female). So, yes, I think the value you place on your body is what determines when you have sex. (And in both instances - legal and illegal prostitution - STDs are a real risk, along with pregnancies, beatings, etc.!)*

You can choose to ignore that you're putting in what you've paid into or what you've accepted as payment - whether you're dating or married or casual, straight or otherwise, etc. - but how many of you would be with someone who didn't pay for anything? Even if you were willing to experiment with that concept, how long would you be with that someone? Could you go without gifts, dinners out, anniversary/holiday celebrations, etc.?

Yet we, as an American society, claim to be against prostitution. After all, we regulate prostitutes, male and female, by making it a crime to conduct oneself in such a fashion. What about the men or women who have sex with sugar mamas or daddies? Those who do the do for the promise of money? (Uh, don't we still use the phrase gold digger?) How about those - and I've known women who said they do this - who use sex as an exchange for expensive items like TVs and other things? As one told me, Why not do it if you can get something out of it?

I like my new BarbieTM knowledge because it perfectly represents this schism we have in society regarding prostitutes: We say no, but our bodies say yes. We say no to some people, but yes to ourselves. We call it bad/immoral/etc. to others, but natural/obligation for us. Isn't this just another way of people being hypocritical without owning the hypocrisy?

I'll talk more on this another time! For now, I just want you to start thinking about this: Why does prettying up a prositute - ahem, BarbieTM - make her acceptable? More importantly, what does that mean about us that we are in love with an image of ourselves whose history most of us (generally speaking) would be appalled about? (We're talking about a primarily white image; I'm not sure when her new colors were introduced, but, historically, BarbieTM has been a white middle class phenomenon who, as far as I know, has never - since her days as a prostitute - been presented with a lower class or menial type job. Even as a person of color, she's always been in a position of privilege. Anyway, I think that's where we need to start.)


* Like I've said, I've already guaranteed that it'll never happen for me (aside from the obvious reasons that I'm a fat opinionated bitch - and I refer you to Bitch Magazine if you want to know where feminism stands on the word); no guy's going to pay $50,000 toward a trust fund, plus agree to regular STD testing just to have sex with (highly inexperienced not interested in sex) me. Of course, I'm hoping, too, that I'll never be raped again.

Reading My Choices: Reflection on a Conversation (Part I)

Don't we sometimes talk about ourselves as social agents? I choose to express myself as I do (braless) knowing that many people will receive it primarily in one of two ways: as a form of resistance (referring back to the concept, "the personal is political"), but this (I think) is harder to read without some knowledge/education/experience (but this is where I stand); as a reflection of ignorance, class position, etc.

One reason for this is that we're constantly told (through media, in person, etc.) that how we look tells people who we are; less frequently discussed is the issue that the image is always constructed - that is, it's generally a topic limited to academic circles. We do, however, talk a lot about masks and how we present ourselves differently depending on who we're with; but I don't follow this rule either. What this comes down to is: You can't really ever know someone without getting to know them - but this is a different discussion for another time!

So, anyway, this girl and I are talking on the bus one day; she's also a student at FCC. I'm explaining to her how my choice not to wear a bra is associated with my expression of feminism which I connect with the history of our (women's) sexualization. Before we develop breasts, I said, our upper bodies look like those of boys; yet by around the ages of five or six, we're told to start covering up our bodies. As a result, we're unconsciously being given a message: We have something to hide, and that what we're hiding is wrong (but there are lot of girls who aren't going to make the leap to their sexualities); a lot of girls question this, and parents/guardians/whatever often say: It's because girls are different from boys. Then later we're told to add another layer even when we're not yet ready for them; that's the joke I see played a lot on TV regarding training bras. So I'm essentially talking about the socialization of girls at this point, but the girl I'm talking to isn't ready to follow me there.

Instead, she tells me her mom had a mastectomy because she was physically uncomfortable with the size of her boobs. So she suggests that I should consider one. First, as I shared with her, I'm comfortable not wearing a bra; but, of course, I have big boobs and they sag - and this is what's bothering her; she can't imagine that someone like me wouldn't be bothered by them. I told her I was aware of people who made similar complaints about their breasts, and that the reason I don't think I have an issue with mine is because of my posture; good posture helps align your body the way it's meant to be. (Let's ignore the whole issue of trauma involved with our evolving to upright forms, assuming you accept the concept of evolution.)

She tries then to convince me that women need bras. Her first example - the corsets women had to wear especially during the Victorian era - was careless; I told her that a lot of women fainted as a result of how tight they were, and that this reified the view of women as helpless and weak compared to men, etc. She tries to tell me that, biologically, we need them for support, and that they otherwise cause back pain because of all the weight. I ask her about women who have firm breasts and don't need to wear bras. Would she have a problem if they chose not to wear bras? Also, I told her that women have different shaped breasts, and some actually have proportions that make them more like men's breasts, and that some men have breasts - what she insists on calling pecs - which look like they belong on women; but it's the same thing.

This is one of the problems: We're talking about women but also introducing men into the conversation. So I open another thread by raising the issue that men's bodies have been desexualized. I share that I like looking at men, and that when I see a good looking man with a nice chest, yes, I get turned on by that; I'm not going too much into this right now, but I would argue against anyone who claims that women don't respond the same way by pointing out that just because we aren't able to visibly display our attractions in the same physical ways that men do (and I'm not talking about orgasms, etc., but the immediate response to sexual stimulation that anyone can observe even when the person's covered) doesn't mean we don't get aroused by looking at men (with clothes on, partial or nude; I think it's very possible that if we had scientific instruments which could detect the buildup of fluids associated with arousal, we'd find that women and men respond the same). I mean, we're always talking about the sexualization of women - in music videos (uh, I see a lot of men in sexualized roles, but where's the literature criticizing this?; it's almost always been, from what I've read/heard/whatever, about women), pornography (uh, they get naked, too!) - because we've connected women with sex in ways that we've never really done with men, even if this is changing.

As for me, I've been around different states - Texas (home state), Montana (summer 1996), California (Aug. 2003-Dec. 2004), Connecticut (Aug. 2005-May 2006), Michigan (May 2006-Dec. 2006), and now Maryland (since Dec. 2006) - not to mention other places I've visited around the U.S. as a result of conferences and school activities; I haven't had many opportunities to travel internationally, but I've been to Monterrey and Puebla, Mexico; Manchester, England; and Ontario, Canada. So I've seen a lot of men in person but also through the media, and I know real men exist who could use bras (not just fat men, but also overly muscled men); in fact, Seinfeld played a joke on this by introducing "the man bra" in one episode. Yet men aren't required to cover up their pecs/breasts/whatever.

Women, however, are burdened with that. Even when it's the hottest day of summer, we have to put on that extra layer. I don't think it's fair, and I refuse to be sexualized. Even ignoring that I'm fat - and I tell people I'm fat and ugly; even if I had no excess weight, I'd be fat and ugly because our society has dictated an image of what a woman should look like that, because of how my bones are structured, even if I were at my least weight possible, I'd still be fat and ugly next to that image; so I don't bother - women are still seen in terms of their bodies, even when we have women in power positions who show that they're more than their bodies.

Before the conversation ends, she's telling me it's "not normal" for women not to wear bras. So I question her. I tell her that I'm aware of African women who don't wear bras and are able to function within those societies. Why, I ask her, do you think women have to wear bras? I'm comfortable not wearing one, and I'm comfortable enough with myself that I have no problems openly challenging the position of women as sexual objects. If it were not for images on National Geographic* - and I didn't see the connection until last night - would I have had that knowledge? Would I have been able to connect it, even unconsciously, with why I choose to continue doing what I started doing all the time since Fall 2007? (I'm braless wherever I go: stores, banks, etc. I mean, it took me about four years of experimenting before I went full at it.) The fact is, images don't just sexualize women. I understand the point, however; we're talking about showing only the women. But if we were to see them together (that is, the men and women), wouldn't we still be complaining and focusing in on the sexualization of women?*

That's something I'm only recently thinking about: this idea that it doesn't matter what the object of criticism is, even when there are men involved, we make an issue out of the women within a patriarchal context. That's one of the fallacies, I think: We have so much of an entrenched view of women as sexual objects that when we are forced to confront both sexes in the same industries (uh, there are gigolos, or male prostitutes), we too often narrow in on women and stigmatize men as the culprit behind the successes of those products. Why aren't we ever looking at men? So, yes, I'm coming back to this idea later!


* For my PSY 209 class, we were assigned textbook readings; of those we addressed last night, the discussion concerning the selection from Catherine A. Lutz and Jane L. Collins' book, presented in the section as "Excerpts from Reading National Geographic" (from Grewal and Kaplan's An Introduction to Women's Studies, 2006), sparked today's post. I'm really starting to think more now about the problematic nature concerning the sexualization of women that also stigmatizes men as the primary culprits behind it.

"The personal is political" - Part I

I believe that women have been sexualized as a result of ideological stigmas which became embedded across the centuries through means of laws and social customs. Despite advances resulting from various feminist movements at different times, we continue to be defined by our bodies. In fact, the last time I spoke with someone - a female college student - about my politics, I was accused of being "negative," "extreme," "crazy," and "an eyesore."

However, no one has yet to directly challenge my choice not to wear bras. (In the previous instance, I initiated the discussion, which means it was an invitation.) I've walked around campuses, in supermarkets, banks, and other places without anyone saying anything. Ironically, when I decided to check my e-mail before going off to my Beginning Canoe class last semester, the library director at Hood College told me that wearing a swimsuit was unacceptable and would be grounds for involving Campus Safety.

I consider it interesting, therefore, that people have been silent about my bra-free decision. This doesn't mean that others agree with the action I chose, but that we have come far enough in our society that doing so isn't cause for outrage.

I choose not to wear a bra because I recognize that we (men and women) are sexual bodies; and that if men aren't required to add layers to their breasts - and regardless if we call them pecs, men have nipples which excite them as much as ours excites us - I don't see why I should have to. By acting on my choice, I'm essentially saying: I refuse the assumption that only women are sexual objects.

By the way, I'm completely comfortable bra-less. As I tried to explain to the girl, I think a lot of that has to do with having good posture. More on this issue later!

On a Roundabout: Introducing the Concept of Socially Sanctioned Bodies

Over the last two weeks, an eighteen year old female has called me "negative," "extreme," and "crazy." I wasn't aware that we shared the same transport to and/or from campus at least once a week this semester until she spoke to me.

The second time we encountered each other, we had a conversation. After I saw an opportunity, I explained that my choice not to wear a bra was informed by my feminism and by my individual comfort level.

I explained that, generally, we have a history of sexualizing women's bodies. So I talked about how, when we're girls, we're taught to conform to models of womanhood that are influenced through our associations/contacts with family, friends, media, etc.

For example, I said that by the time girls and boys are around six, we start covering up the girls; yet boys are not met with the same demands. I think it is around then that girls and boys start to recognize that they are different; suddenly, girls are alien (as suggested by anecdotes concerning boys' fears of girls' cooties). More significantly, we give in to the idea that women are sexual objects while simultaneously desexualizing boys.

The only real difference, for me, is that our bodies aren't designed to come in the same way men's bodies are; but just because we can potentially observe quicker, visible displays of attraction in men doesn't mean that we women (and I'm not speaking to those who bypass men) don't get turned on by looking at men's bodies. As girls, however, we implicitly buy into the idea that our breasts - because we're given the subliminal suggestion that they threaten boys (and men) - are dangerous, and thus require shielding to protect the male persuasion of our species.

As such, I believe wearing a bra sexualizes me unnecessarily; if people are uncomfortable with seeing me braless, I think it may be because I represent a concrete challenge to the supposition that women's bodies are sexual objects. In response, however, the eighteen year old, who said she studied biology for two years, tried to convince me that, biologically, women need to wear bras. She said that bras came out of a history when women wore corsets on a regular basis.

In my turn, I pointed out to her that a lot of women fainted from wearing corsets, and that this reinforced notions that women were physically inferior (that is, weaker) than men. I then tried to engage her about how we as girls are naturalized to wear bras; most women, if they ever asked why they had to wear bras as girls, don't question wearing bras as one defining association of womanhood. That led to my comment about the impact of socialization.

The eighteen year old, however, shifted the conversation to focus more generally on differences between men and women. She insisted that "the majority of men are stronger than women." Because of my background and education, however, I wasn't willing to concede her point. Instead, I attempted to start a dialogue to address why we associate men and women in binary terms such as: strong/weak, protector/victim, sexualized/desexualized, etc.

Instead, the eighteen year old got stuck on trying to make me accept her statement that "the majority of men are stronger than women." However, I know a lot of women who work out and men who don't; that we have professional bodybuilders who are men and women; that studies have shown differences between men's and women's physical capabilities to reflect complementarity, with men having greater upper body strength and women greater lower body strength; etc. I also pointed out that a diminutive woman is just as capable as a muscled woman, when trained, in defending herself against a muscular man - which is to say that even our notions of what constitutes physical strength are predicated on the gender roles we've assigned historically and that continue to inform us today.

Yet the eighteen year old continued to sidetrack me by insisting that "the majority of men are stronger than women." Before we dovetailed into miscellany, she accused me of being "negative" and "extreme." Clearly, I threatened her on some level, which is probably why I was amused - because there's no reason to be threatened by me - though I didn't recognize why at the time. By saying I think she was threatened, I mean that talking to me challenged her traditionally-centered self-paradigm because she doesn't yet have the education to answer me.

You see, my expressions of feminism openly challenge accepted social conventions, which are themselves constituted on beliefs concerning our roles as men and women. Yet I don't feel any need to impose my practices on other people. The eighteen year old's dogmatism, however - and I will share that I don't think I've encountered anyone like her before - made me think.

As a result of the conversations I've had with the eighteen year old and other people, I came today to reflect on the concept of socially sanctioned bodies, through which we are inscribed by the social conventions we grow up accepting as true. Yet, I wonder:

How often do you stop to question yourself? What assumptions have you challenged? Do you consider anyone who simply expresses a different view/practice - rather than trying to convince you that you should accept/do it, too - as argumentative? How often do you shut down a conversation that goes beyond a simple yes or no answer to examine the complex social realities in which we live? More importantly: What defines who you are?

Yes :), I intend to continue this conversation. For now, though, I still have more thinking to do.

Letting Loose the Inhibitions

In the 1960s, women burned bras in protest. So is it any wonder that I, a feminist, would refuse to wear one? Of course, I'm a native Houstonian, which means I've seen shirtless men in speedo shorts jogging around my city's streets - the same city that arrested several women for protesting in bikinis a few years ago (though I can't remember what they were upset about). In Canada, women raised the bar on protests: they did them topless.

Why are women expected to wear more? And why are women still complaining that men keep looking at us as bodies, and then ignore our eyeballing gestures in their direction? Why do we privilege male bodies as non-sexual, and yet condemn them as sexual maniacs, perverts, rapists, etc.?

It's time, I think, that we women grow up! We can't have it both ways; we need to recognize that both men and women are made up of bodies and minds, and that we each have the potential to be sexually licentious and free.

As for me, I rarely approach anything without first seeing what happens. That's why I've been working on the public no bra thing since 2003. It only took until Fall 2007 for me to completely refuse wearing bras under my tops. And, yes, I have large breasts; but outwardly, I'm just a body - like any other person around the world.

The difference is that I'm not afraid to reveal my imperfections. Of course, I'm fat, so I can get away with not caring about "pretty."

For whatever reason, though - just to sidetrack - I got into wearing my hair pulled back. At least, until an undergrad said something about images that show we're studious. Since that conversation two weeks ago, I've been wearing my hair down in public. (At home, I still pull it back when I'm preparing food, etc.; usually I'm too lazy to pull out the hair thingee, so it regularly stays in my hair until I'm ready to go to sleep.)

Anyway, I started thinking, and I came to the conclusion that the reason we women continue committing to being bra-wearing slaves is that we're projecting an image of what we shouldn't be: scared. Yes, wearing a bra means you're scared to go against social conventions that privilege the male body while also condemning women's bodies as sexual-specific.

I'm sorry, but I have to tell you: Men's bodies turn me on. (Remember, I'm heterosexual.) Any woman who is into men is lying if she says men's bodies don't present a turn-on. Grow up! Women are just as sexual as men are - and we need to own this!

Why do we harp on strippers and other women who aren't afraid to expose themselves? Because they're not afraid of themselves!

Oh yes, you have to be comfortable with who you are first before you'll ever feel safe to walk outside of the boxes society has pushed us into from the moment we were declared women (or girls, whatever). I mean, we're ridiculous. By the time female toddlers turn into girls, we're covering them up, but not the boys. They get to run around topless, and we think it's okay!

Seriously, we are a society hooked on child pornography, because we're constantly displaying babies in just their diapers and calling that cute! Then, because we're prudes, we have to cover up our girls, and this creates a complex. The result is women are scared of their own bodies!

We should be celebrating every woman who's not afraid to challenge conventions! Why are people upset over celebrities like Brittany Spears? Because they're not hiding behind false pretenses! (Seriously, why do we forget that they're people, too?)

You're probably wondering, though, what all of the above has to do with my choosing not to wear bras and letting my hair down. What I'm saying is: It's time we women broke the mirrors. We need to rebuild ourselves to define our own paths. We need to refuse any action that sets us apart from men. We need to disrupt the whole idea of gender. We need...

A Short Note on the Impossibility of Commitment

Does my position that commitment isn't possible scare you? If you're threatened by it, it's because you know you can never be happy. When matrimonial unions work, it's because each person didn't hold back and found in the other someone whose smile was opening into a berth of truth rather than widening into a parody of conventions. And yes, I'm aware that people stay bound for other reasons (kids, money, etc.); what matters is how much you value yourself.

I've already made it clear: marriage isn't something I want. It probably wouldn't make sense to you either for me to say I'm a cynical optimist. This is how it stands when it comes to marriage and the impossibility of commitment:

1.) Commitment requires complete abandonment*, of both the individual person (your selfish wants) and of others outside of the nuclear relationship (the person you're married to is always first (except when you're being threatened in any form), then your kids (except when they're being threatened in any form), and, finally, when there's no conflict, your friends, family, etc.).

2.) Commitment requires accepting the rules of bondage, which marriage is; it's a contract that two people will stay together no matter what happens (and this includes sexual frustrations).

3.) Commitment requires absolute trust, and this means having absolutely no doubts that the person you're marrying belongs to you (and, yes, this is where we start talking about the concept of soulmates).

In response:

A) I don't believe anyone other than you should be first. Yes, you can still be there for other people; but if it's a choice about following what you're ambitious to do when you're being asked to choose between that and someone else, go!

B) I can't even imagine what it is to be dating someone, much less a lifetime of boring; I mean, I need a guy who's willing to share his interests with me (as I would with him), and to seek new directions of knowledge so that we don't run out of things to say (I can't see myself ever wanting to stop learning), etc.

C) I fell in love once, and so I know what love is; it's simply a biological function when a woman's in the prime of her life to have babies (and that's passed, therefore I'm free from ever being so compromised).

* I will note that the law is always first even when it means the end of your relationship to turn your husband(whatever)/child/family/etc. in. Of course, when it's an issue of justice, justice always prevails over the law, especially when the law acts to allow direct harm.

Equality Begins with a Name Choice

Sometimes, when I don’t feel well, I think. So maybe this is a symptom of my delusional brain which believes equality between the sexes is possible: To achieve equality, marriage partners must accept name changes on either side.

By our accepting the male’s last name in marriage, we are in effect giving up our right to equality. If we choose to keep our last names, we’re saying that we are equal in the relationship; that is, two individuals have agreed to form an alliance.

When, however, will men change their last names to ours? In other words, why should we be the only ones obligated (and pressured) to change our last names? If the concept of a marriage recognizes equality, why is only one sex required to change for the other?

What if, say, Jones and Johnson decided to marry? Couldn’t we consider these two following possibilities: Johnson and Jones; Jones-Johnson and Johnson-Jones? Our generations, too, should reflect these terms: Johnson-Jones or Jones-Johnson. After all, babies require both sperm and egg to hatch themselves onto the world.

I think this may be our greatest detriment: This insistence on our giving in to men by giving up our names; by choosing feminism, we refuse to because we don’t wish to compromise our identities. I’m proposing the radical concept of making name changes obligatory to each sex.

That is, no marriage should privilege the male over the female. More specifically, no woman (in societies where women have the choice) should feel the expectation of compromising for the men in their lives by taking on the men’s last names.

Yes, that’s what I’m saying: By exchanging our last names with our married partners (and I’m making no comment about gay marriages; as far as I know, no name changes happen in those circumstances), we’re allowing the men more power over us.

After all, if we give up our identities for men, what else are we going to give up? For example, wouldn’t it be natural for us to agree to stay at home with our kids (and I’m not making a judgment about stay-at-homers)? If you’re like me, why feel pressured at all into wanting kids?

No, I’m not married; but this is partly choice, and largely the knowledge that I’m not the kind of woman with the right vibes. Yes, men avoid me for the most part; I don’t compromise, and this must be apparent in the things I say and do.

Of course, women like me get the reputation for being overcritical, bitchy and irrational. Men want to control us: how we act and what we say. They want us to be pretty for them so they can show off the arm candy at their sides. Many men prance around, too, of course.

If it weren’t about the image, then why do lovers, etc. feel the need to show off in public? One answer: They want other people to know they’re having sex. So when do we as women take a stand and say, Enough! I’m more than eye candy and a body to be played around with?

So I say: Either refuse to change your name or, if you decide to change your name, make sure your mate changes his name. If there’s real love between the two of you, he won’t have a problem with it any more than you will.

But if only you change your name, don’t complain when he treats you like a doormat. By giving up your identity for his, you’re telling him he’s worth more than you. I have nothing against marriage. What I’m saying is: Let’s be sure enough of ourselves to claim equality.

And while equality begins before marriage, marriage contributes to the direction of our future lives. Some women are the money-makers, so they have the power to make some of the rules. (If they didn’t tell you, making more money than men gives you more power than them.)

For the rest of us who don’t hold the power in the relationship, choose to hold on to that part of us that makes us us: womanhood. Embrace womanhood so that when you make the commitment, you demand of him what society demands of you. Only then can we be equals.

The problem with relationships: let's start with questioning assumptions

Earlier this year when I hadn't gotten the carpool thing worked out yet, I was dependant on taxis to get to and from campus. The dispatcher, Rob, called me sometimes even when the conversation didn't involve a taxi. By summer, he'd quit his job.

I wasn't looking to hook up with Rob, but I'm always open to meeting new people with the hope of seeing where that particular friendship will lead. (And we understand, right, that when I talk about friends, I mean it strictly in platonic terms?) So I didn't discourage the communication, though I suspected he was horny since, for whatever reason, I only attract men who are hard up.

Rob and I finally met face to face when he arrived as my driver for the MARC station. Of course, it was very early and I was nervous about being by myself this first time. So Rob treated me to a breakfast at the Waffle House and then waited with me until the train arrived. Before we parted, I gave him a quick hug.

Rob had, by that time, already shown that he didn't follow-through on things he said. That is, his actions didn't often match his words; thus, if I'd been open to a dating possibility, he was already written off. With friends, however, I don't assume anything about the person; anything goes unless they choose not to be involved with me anymore or do something that goes against me (like lying).

I've known people like Rob before; they call every now and then, and sometimes you go out and do things but usually after a few months have passed. Like I said, friends are different; there are no expectations on my end since I'm just getting to know someone who may or may not stick around. (The benefit I get from hanging out with people is that sometimes I get sparked with an idea for a project I want to work on, or gain knowledge about something I never thought about before then, etc.)

For whatever reason, this semester Rob called more frequently. We'd talked about doing a movie, but then he didn't get back with me about it. I'd suggested that we go to the fair together, but he bailed. As a last resort - because my back was pained and sore from the soccer canoeing I did the previous Fri. - I asked him for a massage, and he wasn't willing to give up 10-15 minutes. (My landlord's wife, a retired nurse, very fortunately came through for me and by Tues., I was fine; earlier that day, I had trouble moving my neck and arm.)

Okay, so whatever. I called Rob to say hi tonight and we got into an argument which inspired tonight's question about what I expect out of a relationship with a guy. By the end of that - after being explicitly clear about not wanting to date, marry, have sex, and cook or clean for a guy - Rob hung up on me. His contention before that was: "You'll never get a guy."

So then I thought about what was said. I used to think that what I wanted was for the guy to not only pay for everything, but also, assuming we got married, to cook and clean for the both of us. Because of Rob, however, I realized how wrong I was, because it's not about any one person cooking or cleaning for the other person.

Then I thought: Why do we expect either person in a relationship (remember, I'm heterosexual, so I often think in terms of men and women; but this doesn't mean that what I say can't be applied to other arranged couples) to cook and clean for both people? Rob said: "It should be 50/50." That is, the guy should cook and clean for the woman, and the woman should cook and clean for the guy.

My response was no, a guy should never expect me to cook and clean for him. What I didn't share with him because he was by then angry: First, I don't know how to cook except basic foods like cheeseburgers, etc. Secondly, on the rare times I cooked for other people, I was exhausted by the amount of work involved. Finally, while we as social beings have progressed in our thinking, the general assumption is that women will cook and clean even when we work full-time and contribute as mothers. However, I refuse to be stereotyped; if a guy even thinks I should want to cook for him, he's boxing me into a position which many women have worked for years to overcome, though we continue to reify presumptions about our bodies and traditional roles.

Because of the conversation with Rob, what I came to accept is: (1) I won't cook and/or clean for someone else; (2) I don't expect someone else to cook and/or clean for me. (Yes, in a dating situation, I maintain that the guy must pay for everything.) If I'm in a relationship with a guy and we end up married (and this will, again, never happen), we can both cook and clean for ourselves - that is, as individual persons. I mean, isn't that we would've been doing before marriage?

Now, if he's someone who likes to cook not just for himself but for other people, I don't have a problem with him cooking for me. However, he can't expect the same in return because I don't like cooking and most definitely not for anyone else. If he's also someone who likes doing laundry, he's welcome to do my laundry (except for my undergarments, which I clean by hand when I shower) should he so wish; otherwise, he does his laundry, and I do mine, etc.

Of course, Rob's insistence that it must be "50/50" brings with it the assumption that a woman has an obligation to cook and clean. Let's make it clear: No, we don't. Marriage isn't about being one person; you're still individuals. If I come into a relationship with no interest in cooking, a guy can't expect me to cook for him; otherwise, we're not going to work. As I said, I'm a feminist.

Because I have nothing to lose by being alone, I'm not threatened by the men who still hold women to specific values wrapped inside prejudices concerning our femininities. As for me, I don't wear dresses, make-up, nail polish, perfume, jewelry and bras (yes, I've been braless through the semester thus far which I'll talk about in a later post). Oh, and I stopped wearing deodorant and don't brush my hair. Also, while I continue to shave my underarms, my hairy legs remain. Otherwise, I'm still fat and ugly, and very strongly my own person - I mean, hello?

Yes, my standards are high. And because of that, I don't compromise. If relationships require compromising for the other, I don't need or want to be so involved. It's simple, really: I require a guy who's open about people and who doesn't have anything to prove. That's what it comes down to: being who you are even if it means being alone - and I ask: What's so scary about that? For an individual, sacrifice is nothing - and that's what I'm suggesting about us women: We need to reach a point when we can accept ourselves as individuals first.

Women and the Image of Domesticity

A while ago, it occurred to me why single women need useless things. So it happens I had a roommate in Michigan who housed furniture but seldom used what she bought. The week before she moved out of our apartment, her lover installed a dining room set for her. Because I lived with her, I knew her latest acquisition was for show. After all, she rarely ate in the apartment.

That's when I understood what was involved in her choices: the image of domesticity. I don't mean to single her out, because I think it's true of most women on the market for marriage. We've grown up with images of weddings and expectations of family living, and, more importantly, we've talked about these issues in terms of patriarchy, the power derived from our fertility, and so forth.

It's like this: imagine you're dating a potential prospect. What's going to make you stand out from the competition? If we believe the statistics available to us, we as a gender outnumber the men. Therefore, every woman who needs a husband to feel accepted in a society that still privileges couples (even in the corporate world, a promotion may implicitly require a ring) needs to show her lovers she's wiferly.

Don't we use terms like motherly and fatherly? So why not wiferly? What I'm suggesting by that term is that in defining our relationships with our significant others - for those wishing ceremonial betrothals - we seek to promote ourselves as the most ideal mates. Though many men today contribute more toward the household (housecleaning, babysitting, etc.) - even though, historically, we may be surprised that men have always done so - we women continue to be associated with the private sphere before anything else.

Thus, if we're creating masks to give the illusion of ourselves as wives, when do we get to be who we are? It remains my belief that only those who see us visibly and without pretension are right for us. Let's face it: If we're working this hard just to secure a symbol, what's the point when our façades crack and we're confronted with someone who suddenly realizes we're not who we pretended to be? Those behaviors are why I think adultery will always be a part of the human landscape.

Until we risk breaking our own mirrors, we'll continue in delusional states that deny us what's already ours: our selves. Why else do we cover up our blemishes with make-up, concealments, and other accessories if not so our compris(ed)ing partners associate us with health? A healthy woman, after all, is supposed to conceive strong children. If she also shows an interest in her abode, she will look after her family. Of course, there are many other stereotypes.

Therefore, unless you can recognize your actions, you have no choice but to question everything you do. If, however, we allow the image of domesticity to conceal us from our motives, we only have ourselves to blame if/when we realize we're unhappy in a union predicated on sales(wo)manship. Then again, should you follow my advice, you may end up like me: relationship(-)less for a lifetime - but free. As for me, I'm all about being an individual first.

The dangers of sex: a health perspective

If the main argument against women having sex is our right to choose what we do with our bodies, here's the problem: sex isn't about morality. By presenting it in those terms, we overlook a more significant issue: health.

Why is sex dangerous? Outside of the risks of getting an STD (sexually transmitted disease), it's the STDs you can't protect yourself from (e.g., herpes, HIV) that you need to worry about. You can get mono from kissing, etc. You can get hepatitis from oral sex regardless of whose anatomy benefits from it - man or woman. With HIV, it's not just sexual penetration that places you at risk; and, more importantly, you can't guarantee the condom (men's or women's) won't break.

If you're jumping into sex without knowing the person you're doing it with - especially without a strong level of trust - you're choosing to take unnecessary risks that could impact you in the long-term. Think of it in terms of economics: Is it worth investing hundreds of dollars every year to cover medical expenses for incurable STDs/health problems for one night of sex that your lover paid - oh I don't know - $100 for? Say you were together for six months, but you spent most of the time intwined so that the pay in came around to $1,000?

If you're rich and can afford medical care, no problem. What about those of us who aren't - is it worth the risk? A one-night stand, for example: Is one night with a lousy or awesome lover worth the long-term investment if you're not lucky enough to avoid contracting something you didn't plan on? Ask yourself: Is your body worth a hamburger meal and a movie (or whatever people pay out for sex)?

The issue isn't marriage. Who cares if you have sex with someone and don't marry him or her? What's at stake is what you're willing to give up to be with someone you can't guarantee will stick around long enough even if you don't wind up caught in a spiralling nightmare. Even if you don't care that the person does or doesn't want to continue contact after the sex is over, what does your body mean to you?

I mean, seriously. If you're so horny for sex, why not get a dildo or other sex toy to get you off than risk it with someone who could end up costing you thousands of dollars that your insurance may cover? And if you get caught in that situation, are you looking forward to ending up dealing with pills or whatever else is available for the rest of your life - not to mention the burden of passing on the ailment to someone else if you continue renting out your body?

Oooh, yes: That's what we do when we have sex. Someone gives money for however long it takes two (or more as the case may be) to have sex. Then maybe you don't talk for a few days - or maybe you do - and then you have sex again, either with or without being taken out again. And the cycle continues. After all, there's no free sex really. I mean, can you see yourself in a sexual relationship where the other person doesn't give you anything or take you around anywhere? Barring that, could you only have sex without needing to talk or e-mail/text message/etc.?

No, sex is paid for and it's up to you to know what your body's worth. For myself, I've made it almost impossible to place myself in that compromising position. Here are my latest rules regarding the possibility of sex, which means accepting the unnecessary risks involved with it:

- I've had to have dated the guy for at least six months, and he's had to have spent by that time at least $5,000 on me.

- When we start dating, he needs to sign a legal contract that guarantees his monogamy to me during our relationship; he must also agree to undergo regular testing for STDs, etc. prior to our having sex and during the time we have sex if I decide I'm ready and he still wants me.

- He must set aside $50,000 in a trust fund to be used only for medical expenses on the chance I do contract an STD or other health-related problem from him (that is, none of it gets paid directly to me and I must show documentation that I need hospitalization or medication, etc.); he only gets the money back if (1) we never have sex during our relationship (payable immediately) or (2) after an X amount of time in which I continue to test negative since some things like HIV or herpes can take years to show up as positive.

Why do I go through all of the above trouble? One, I'm not interested in marriage. Two, I believe that dating has attached to it whether we accept it or not an implicit understanding/desire that the relationship may lead to marriage even if the person you're with isn't someone who interests you as a marriage prospect. Why do you think affairs are so problematic? Even when the relationship is just sex, there's an unwritten assumption that there's more to it than the physical aspects, which is stupid I know, but nonetheless true.

Three, I'm not interested in having sex. I'd rather develop friendships with people that will last until my end of time as we know it. If I choose to have sex with someone, I want it to be with a guy who isn't just going to go away afterward, who isn't married, and who isn't just looking to satisfy his needs. (Ah yes, I'm also fat; and what I attract every time - and it's never failed - are horny men, which is a complete turnoff. I've always been more than my body, and I'm not - given my weight - excited at the thought of getting hot and bothered with someone - another reason I stay fat; it's a turn-off for most men unless they're desperate.)

Finally, I don't need the tensions associated with dating. Friendship requires nothing but time. You can hang out with someone and just talk or you can go do things together, and the whole point of that is just to share time together as two people who may or may not have similar interests and enjoy the common bond of personhood. Sex is right when the chemistry's right and/or the person you're with is someone you trust and who not only respects who you are at every level but also feels a common bond to you where sex is an expression of affection and not just about two bodies going at it.

We are animals after all, and there's nothing wrong with sex or wanting to have sex. If it were only that, sex wouldn't be anything to argue about. The problem with morality is that it makes it something to challenge; like, who cares if you believe it's wrong, it's my body and I'll do with it what I want and you can't stop me.

Now make sex a health issue and promote it as that, and then maybe people start thinking of not having sex immediately (at least, not without developing trust with the other person) because they recognize that not doing so fails as a preventative measure. Place sex in terms of a long-term economic issue and you might get people asking what their bodies are worth to risk the high interest rates attached to sexual activity.

It won't change things significantly; I mean, just look at the example of credit cards. However, it might get more people thinking about it and, unlike credit cards, you're talking about a person's life here; and something that affects us personally more often than not gets our attention.

Anyway, if we were focusing more on building relationships than just releasing tensions (which we don't need people to do for us given all the available sex toys), we might find a better world in which we see each other not for what the other can give us, but what we can share together. I know, in an ideal world, blah da blah da.


* Note: I wish to acknowledge tigger_ne who, while playing a game of Yahoo!® Games - Literati with me, willingly engaged me as I expressed the above during our informal chat conversation. He's otherwise consented to be recognized as "Dr. B.," a psychology professor in some state I can't remember. He also introduced the phrase "benevolent sexism," which I aim to do research on for a later post; the scholars he recommended I start with are Fiske and Glick (2001). :)