I went to a slightly grimy Massachusetts sports bar with some friends. The bouncer was checking IDs at the door, and was giving us a hard time. I don't know if he was just in a bad mood or if he was genuinely suspicious of us, but he looked at my Maryland ID, and then glared at me, and then took his time deliberating. The next time that he peered at me in dim light of the streetlamp, i stared him down. He apologized and handed me my ID, and let us in without another word.
One time, i placed an order from Athena's Home Novelties for some body chocolate FOR A FRIEND. And when my order arrived, it was accompanied by a whole box of things that someone else had ordered and that had mistakenly been shipped to me. There was tingly lube, massage oil, a "Good Head" lollipop, a starter bondage kit, two bullet vibrators, and other assorted goodies. It took me a few days to decide whether or not it was worthwhile to let the company know of the mistake.
Showing posts with label sex. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sex. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Friday, July 19, 2013
A Year of Biblical Womanhood: January-July
"Now, I've got nothing against aluminum poles, sex outdoors, "sacred stripping", and that sort of thing, but you should be able to tell your spouse that you'd like to try it in the backyard without insisting your instructions come directly from God. Poems were never meant to be forced into commands." (pg. 112) (emphasis mine)
Oh, Christian sexuality. We like to do this thing where we confuse descriptive with prescriptive. We also like to do this thing where we don't really understand what's being described, so it gets kinda messy. And not in the good way.
"Both Jesus and Paul spoke highly of celibacy and singleness, and for centuries the Church honored the contributions of virgins and widows to the extent that their stories occupied the majority of Christian literature." (pg. 179)
We have this narrative in the Church that behind every great man there's a great woman, that it is the role of men to be great and to do great things, and it is the role of women to support them in their accomplishments. Men are to go forth and do great things, and women are to have a clean house and warm meal waiting for them when they return.
But the Bible has a LOT to say about how great it is to never get married. So if men can do great things either married or single, but women have to be someone's wife in order to achieve something great, we are left with two options: men have multiple wives, or women marry each other.
For the first, while it is Biblical, it's mostly been rejected. But if we're talking about Biblical roles for men and women, i guess i can't really stop you. You just have to move to Utah.
For the second, it's a little dicey. I mean, here you have two women, married to each other, making their home an absolutely perfect haven of domestic bliss: clean, orderly, well-managed, with three hot meals a day and never any quarreling or bitterness or discontent or jealousy or anything. Just two happy, domestic, virtuous women being perfect wives to one another. They may not be preaching sermons or writing books or running businesses or ministering to the heathens in foreign lands, but they can certainly feed and clothe the the poor, and they can make their home open to those who need a place to stay, and those are all important Biblical things, too. In fact, hospitality is one of the things the Bible talks about the most. Definitely way more than homosexuality. Really, if you think about it, being a married lesbian is pretty much the highest calling there could be for a Christian woman.
Or, you know, maybe women can be allowed to accomplish things outside of the house and can even be praised for and encouraged in those accomplishments. "As a Christian, my highest calling is not motherhood; my highest calling is to follow Christ." (pg. 180)
"Traditionally, readers of the text have assumed that Jesus called the (Samaritan woman at the well) out on her loose morals, confronting the aberrant nature of her sexual history in order to convict her of her sin. But such a confident interpretation reveals a certain level of bias, for John never actually revealed the reason why the Samaritan woman had five husbands. It is just as plausible, therefore, to assume that her marital history was a tragic one -- women were not permitted to initiate divorce at that time, after all -- and that Jesus sought to acknowledge the difficult set of circumstances facing a woman in first-century Palestine. She may have been a concubine or a slave, which would explain why the man she was with was not her husband." (pg. 199)
The story of the Samaritan woman was an important one for me in coming to terms with my own sexuality, so i was very pleased to see an interpretation of her story that gives her a little more grace.
"In the biblical narrative, hierarchy enters human relationship as part of the curse, and begins with man's oppression of women -- "your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you" (Genesis 3:16). But with Christ, hierarchical relationships are exposed for the sham that they are, as the last are made first, the first are made last, the poor are blessed, the meek inherit the earth, and the God of the universe takes the form of a slave.
"Women should not have to pry equality from the grip of Christian men. It should be surrendered willingly, with the humility and love of Jesus, or else we miss the once radical teaching that slaves and masters, parents and children, husbands and wives, rich and poor, healthy and sick, should "submit to one another" (Ephesians 5:21)."
*slow clap*
Oh, Christian sexuality. We like to do this thing where we confuse descriptive with prescriptive. We also like to do this thing where we don't really understand what's being described, so it gets kinda messy. And not in the good way.
"Both Jesus and Paul spoke highly of celibacy and singleness, and for centuries the Church honored the contributions of virgins and widows to the extent that their stories occupied the majority of Christian literature." (pg. 179)
We have this narrative in the Church that behind every great man there's a great woman, that it is the role of men to be great and to do great things, and it is the role of women to support them in their accomplishments. Men are to go forth and do great things, and women are to have a clean house and warm meal waiting for them when they return.
But the Bible has a LOT to say about how great it is to never get married. So if men can do great things either married or single, but women have to be someone's wife in order to achieve something great, we are left with two options: men have multiple wives, or women marry each other.
For the first, while it is Biblical, it's mostly been rejected. But if we're talking about Biblical roles for men and women, i guess i can't really stop you. You just have to move to Utah.
For the second, it's a little dicey. I mean, here you have two women, married to each other, making their home an absolutely perfect haven of domestic bliss: clean, orderly, well-managed, with three hot meals a day and never any quarreling or bitterness or discontent or jealousy or anything. Just two happy, domestic, virtuous women being perfect wives to one another. They may not be preaching sermons or writing books or running businesses or ministering to the heathens in foreign lands, but they can certainly feed and clothe the the poor, and they can make their home open to those who need a place to stay, and those are all important Biblical things, too. In fact, hospitality is one of the things the Bible talks about the most. Definitely way more than homosexuality. Really, if you think about it, being a married lesbian is pretty much the highest calling there could be for a Christian woman.
Or, you know, maybe women can be allowed to accomplish things outside of the house and can even be praised for and encouraged in those accomplishments. "As a Christian, my highest calling is not motherhood; my highest calling is to follow Christ." (pg. 180)
"Traditionally, readers of the text have assumed that Jesus called the (Samaritan woman at the well) out on her loose morals, confronting the aberrant nature of her sexual history in order to convict her of her sin. But such a confident interpretation reveals a certain level of bias, for John never actually revealed the reason why the Samaritan woman had five husbands. It is just as plausible, therefore, to assume that her marital history was a tragic one -- women were not permitted to initiate divorce at that time, after all -- and that Jesus sought to acknowledge the difficult set of circumstances facing a woman in first-century Palestine. She may have been a concubine or a slave, which would explain why the man she was with was not her husband." (pg. 199)
The story of the Samaritan woman was an important one for me in coming to terms with my own sexuality, so i was very pleased to see an interpretation of her story that gives her a little more grace.
"In the biblical narrative, hierarchy enters human relationship as part of the curse, and begins with man's oppression of women -- "your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you" (Genesis 3:16). But with Christ, hierarchical relationships are exposed for the sham that they are, as the last are made first, the first are made last, the poor are blessed, the meek inherit the earth, and the God of the universe takes the form of a slave.
"Women should not have to pry equality from the grip of Christian men. It should be surrendered willingly, with the humility and love of Jesus, or else we miss the once radical teaching that slaves and masters, parents and children, husbands and wives, rich and poor, healthy and sick, should "submit to one another" (Ephesians 5:21)."
*slow clap*
Monday, June 24, 2013
colin you're like freaking me out
1. I'm freaking out right now
2. There are SO many good things here, but quoting them all would be lazy. Go read the article in full.
"When we talk of saving oneself for marriage as an act of self-control, we necessary (sic) posit those who do not wait as unable or less able to control themselves. In doing so, we remove from them the idea that they make the decision to have sex of their own volition. It prevents those who do not wait from owning their decisions -- and thus understanding themselves as sexual beings capable of autonomy and consent, rather than souls who just temporarily lost control of their bodies.
This, to me, is where the post-evangelical discussion of self-control fails. Having premarital sex still, in this mindset, ends up being categorized as a failure of holiness, as a failure of one's will or relationship with God, which prevents the experience from being something in which one can learn about one's self and one's wants and desires and pleasures. It necessarily demonizes the flesh (and therefore one's sexuality) by making it into something that must be tamed rather than something that must be understood. Instead of framing the experience in a positive - 'Why did I make that choice and what can I learn about myself from it? Was it healthy?' - it necessarily interjects a negative - 'Failed to control myself again.'"
3. God, i love Cracked. Here's a hilarious and insightful article about how men screw themselves over in romantic situations.
"One of the weirdest things about high school is that they don't teach you the really important shit that you need in order to survive. We spent so much time in health class learning how to prevent teenage pregnancy and crotch diseases that we didn't realize until long after we'd graduated that they never showed us how to go about it when we were old enough to actually want that stuff that biology was pressing for.
Not the fucking. That's not what this article is about. I'm talking about all the stuff that leads up to it. Meeting the right person, how to approach them, what to say, how to present yourself. The most basic part of any relationship: finding someone. Because, let's be honest here, if you came into this article hoping it would answer your question of 'Why won't this bitch fuck me?' you have several stages of growing up to do before you're even mature enough to handle the discussion, let alone the woman."
4. There is still a LONG way to go before Exodus International can repair the damage they've done. But this and this are good first steps.
"From a Judeo-Christian perspective, gay, straight, or otherwise, we're all prodigal sons and daughters. Exodus International is the prodigal's older brother, trying to impose its will on God's promises, and make judgments on who's worthy of His kingdom. God is calling us to be the Father -- to welcome everyone, to love unhindered."
Monday, May 6, 2013
common theme: rape? and sexual orientation? the two are unrelated, unless you are a bigot.
When i was a freshman, i took a public speaking course. One of our assignments was to give a persuasive speech on a controversial topic. I can't for the life of me remember what i chose; probably something about feminism? Anyway. Several people spoke on gay rights, particularly gay marriage and don't ask, don't tell. One young man in the class was vehemently and vocally opposed to the very idea of gay soldiers.
"My dad was in the army," he said. "Those guys do everything together. They change together, shower together, spend every minute of the day together. I don't like the idea that someone who could be attracted to me might be in that environment."
Let's leave aside the non sequitur of his father's years of service. Let's also leave aside the issue of women in the service. And finally, let's ignore the fact that many, many, many, many women, both civilians and soldiers, have experienced all manner of sexual harassment and assault at the hands of men in uniform. Instead, let's address his unshakable belief in two things: all gay men are automatically attracted to all penises, and no gay man is able to control his sexual impulses. Because obviously, never in the history of the world has a gay man been able to look at any man (in any state of dress or undress, alertness or vulnerability, position of authority or position of subordination, homosexual or heterosexual, attractive or ugly, attached or single,) and thought, "Meh, not for me." To be gay means to be so strongly attracted to all penises everywhere that you cannot help but touch them, even if they belong to your boss; or your straight, married, best friend; or a really ugly, rude, obnoxious, bigoted guy with terrible personal hygiene; or a nice, single, attractive, gay man with a great personality who just doesn't like you that way. Obviously.
An entry in Cliff Pervocracy's archives addresses the issue of sexual abuse and harassment on the job.
"And I'll tell you a personal story: back when I worked 24-hour shifts, I shared a very small quarters with three people who were attracted to my gender. We slept together, shared a bathroom, and frequently changed clothes in front of each other. If I didn't want to sleep next to someone whose orientation made them potentially aroused by my gender, I'd have to sleep out in the truck . . .
Of course some female EMTs do face abuse. What if they had harassed me? Then the problem would be the harassment. "He was all heterosexual at me" isn't a complaint; it's "he was all disrespectful and abusive at me." It'd be nice to ban abusers from service but unfortunately we rarely ask and they never tell . . .
(Or, following the logic often used to exclude women, ban heterosexuals. They're the ones with the problem, right? Some hetero gets his boxers in a twist and files a frivolous complaint and your whole career goes down the tubes, I tell ya.)"
One of the finest features on Pervocracy has GOT to be Cosmocking. Here are some gems from an entry in April 2010 about avoiding rape on road trips:
"If you are taking a long trip and will need to stop for fuel after dark, go to websites like exxonstations.com/locator to find full-service stations along your route. That way, you can stay in your car with the doors locked.
There are several insane paranoid precautions you should take specifically when doing anything after dark. Apparently rapists are vampires.
When you're shopping at night, or if the lot looks eerily empty, ask store personnel for a security guard to walk you to your car. If there isn't one available, keep a hand free of packages as you walk to your car, and stay in the middle of the parking-lot aisle, away from vehicles, where criminals might be hiding.
Apparently rapists are funhouse vampires, and they operate by jumping out and going "boogy boogy boogy!" . . .
[If your car breaks down] While you wait for help to arrive, do not under any circumstances get out of your car; roll up your windows, lock the doors, and stay inside.
For fuck's sake. Is air toxic to women? I don't know about rapists; this is how I would act if there were velociraptors outside the car."
My introduction to Jennifer Knapp came from WOW 2001 (shut up; it played in the Christian music store where i worked). Her song "Into You" was something entirely new in Christian music. I knew the Point of Grace/Avalon/Petra/Michael W. Smith worship choruses, the Anne Murray hymns, and i was learning about Contemporary Christian Music for the Jesus Youths: DC Talk, Switchfoot, Superchic[k], KJ52, and so forth.
But i had never heard a voice like Jennifer's.
I had heard music that was immediately identifiable as Christian, and i had heard music that you could play at Youth Group OR under the credits of a popular movie or TV show (Switchfoot, i'm looking at "Dare You To Move"). It was in the 90s and early 2000s that young Christian artists began to simply write songs from their hearts, instead of trying to write "church music" (Keith Green and Amy Grant aside). There were still musicians who were trying to hit a particular target, but artists like Jennifer wanted to make art and trusted that God would speak to people through it, just like He has for the past several millennia.
"Into You" remained my only Jennifer Knapp exposure until 2010, when i learned that she had 1. temporarily quit music to spend some time in obscurity and personal growth, 2. just come out as a lesbian who had been in a same-sex relationship for many years, and 3. ended her "retirement" by releasing a new album about her feelings (both about her partner and about Jesus and the Church). I read several interviews, impressed by her reticence and discretion about her personal life, touched by the pain and anger she had felt and expressed, and wishing desperately that the interviewers would stop asking about her girlfriend and start talking about her music, because every time they did i became a bigger fan or Jennifer Knapp. I downloaded the new album and fell in love.
Three years later, she talked to Rachel Held Evans and her fans, and that interview has forever cemented Jennifer's place in my heart. Because not only is she a brilliant and talented musician, but her heart for God is amazing, and she says some stuff that i've been feeling and have been struggling to articulate. I wish i had enough skin to tattoo her words on my body:
". . . If I understand correctly, your journey took you to a point where you now own the fact that you can't not be gay and you can't not be Christian. For the second part of that - What were some of the moments, the thoughts, the experiences that brought you to the point of claiming your faith as a Christian?
There are times in our lives where we are witness to certain events and happenings that radically alter how we will move about our world. We have experiences where we are forever changed in how we see the world around us, how we see ourselves and how we will react in navigating our individually unique journeys. I am grateful that the Gospel spoke to me in such a way. I saw, I experienced, I left altered by a grace that I knew I could never merit nor repay. To this day, my life has never been the same.
Try as I might, the message of Christ continues to inspire and move me, even when no one is looking, even when others insist that I am "doing it wrong" or not acting 'Christian enough'. Being in a church every Sunday isn't why I identify as Christian . . .
Over the years I have continued to question what calling myself a 'Christian' implies. There's a lot to unpack there in terms of religion, tradition, history, theology -- but honestly, in the end, it doesn't matter what anyone calls me. I am and continue to be inspired by my experience with Christ. No one can take that away."
Pervocracy should just write articles taking down other articles. Because seriously? there's a lot of bullshit that needs to be deconstructed, and she does it so well and so hilariously. Here's a takedown of the idea that women "withhold" sex as punishment when men hurt their feelings.
"Some women make a habit of withholding sex from their partners, while some only do it under very specific circumstances. To men, this seems like cruel and unusual punishment.
Some women have sex very often, while others prefer to have sex less often. To men who think everything is about them, this seems like it's all about them . . .
Personally, I've never withheld sex in a relationship, because I couldn't withhold it from myself, but I've turned down sex, um, ones of times! For reasons that had to do with both my partner and myself . . . If I'm not fucking you because I'm unhappy, the main problem is the unhappiness; the fucking problem is only a symptom . . .
When I'm angry at you, I don't want to have you inside my body. This is not some ultimate cruelty that I'm "not above" . . .
Again, ugh, "sex privileges." It's not like I can just hand you the key. I have to be there the whole time and everything."
That last line is one of Pervocracy's greatest contributions to the discussion of "sexual rights": if a guy is hitting on me and i turn him down, i'm not just denying him sex. I'm also denying myself sex. It's not like i can just unscrew my vagina and hand it to him for the night. If he wants to have sex with me, that means i have to have sex with him, too.
Many men (and women! Example: Cosmo) seem to forget this, and talk about sex as a commodity that women hold. Women can choose to give their sex to men or to deny their sex to men. There is little or no discussion of women wanting sex, women pursuing sex, women being "denied" sex, or women actually "having sex with men". Sex is not something women have, it's something they give or keep. And of course there is little or no discussion of women having sex with each other; lesbians are an invention of porn and Katy Perry designed to give sexual pleasure to men. And women do not want sex because they like the sex itself, they want sex because they love their husbands or boyfriends and want to please them, or because it's the third date and they want to turn these guys into their husbands or boyfriends, or because they want a promotion or raise, or because they want attention and affection, or because their biological clocks are ticking and they want babies. Women choose to give men sex for one of these reasons, and they choose to withhold it because they are cranky, or they have a headache, or whatever.
Here's the thing: sex is something that two people do together. Rape is something that one person does to another person. If you want to talk about rape, we can talk about rape, and we can talk about how you can rape my vagina without my consent or enjoyment. In that case, you get laid and i do not. So me denying you sex? Is me denying you rape. But me deciding that i don't really feel like having sex with you? Is me deciding that I do not want to have sex. And maybe it's because i already have a boyfriend and you're not him, or maybe it's because i'm on my period, or maybe it's because you are unattractive to me, or yeah, maybe it's because i'm cranky or have a headache or whatever. But at the end of the day, if i am not having sex with you, it's not because i hate you and want to prevent you from getting laid. It's because i do not want to have sex. So men: stop whining about how women won't let you have sex with them, and start figuring out how you can make women want to have sex with you (hint: more hygiene and fewer rape threats will go a long way).
"My dad was in the army," he said. "Those guys do everything together. They change together, shower together, spend every minute of the day together. I don't like the idea that someone who could be attracted to me might be in that environment."
Let's leave aside the non sequitur of his father's years of service. Let's also leave aside the issue of women in the service. And finally, let's ignore the fact that many, many, many, many women, both civilians and soldiers, have experienced all manner of sexual harassment and assault at the hands of men in uniform. Instead, let's address his unshakable belief in two things: all gay men are automatically attracted to all penises, and no gay man is able to control his sexual impulses. Because obviously, never in the history of the world has a gay man been able to look at any man (in any state of dress or undress, alertness or vulnerability, position of authority or position of subordination, homosexual or heterosexual, attractive or ugly, attached or single,) and thought, "Meh, not for me." To be gay means to be so strongly attracted to all penises everywhere that you cannot help but touch them, even if they belong to your boss; or your straight, married, best friend; or a really ugly, rude, obnoxious, bigoted guy with terrible personal hygiene; or a nice, single, attractive, gay man with a great personality who just doesn't like you that way. Obviously.
An entry in Cliff Pervocracy's archives addresses the issue of sexual abuse and harassment on the job.
"And I'll tell you a personal story: back when I worked 24-hour shifts, I shared a very small quarters with three people who were attracted to my gender. We slept together, shared a bathroom, and frequently changed clothes in front of each other. If I didn't want to sleep next to someone whose orientation made them potentially aroused by my gender, I'd have to sleep out in the truck . . .
Of course some female EMTs do face abuse. What if they had harassed me? Then the problem would be the harassment. "He was all heterosexual at me" isn't a complaint; it's "he was all disrespectful and abusive at me." It'd be nice to ban abusers from service but unfortunately we rarely ask and they never tell . . .
(Or, following the logic often used to exclude women, ban heterosexuals. They're the ones with the problem, right? Some hetero gets his boxers in a twist and files a frivolous complaint and your whole career goes down the tubes, I tell ya.)"
One of the finest features on Pervocracy has GOT to be Cosmocking. Here are some gems from an entry in April 2010 about avoiding rape on road trips:
"If you are taking a long trip and will need to stop for fuel after dark, go to websites like exxonstations.com/locator to find full-service stations along your route. That way, you can stay in your car with the doors locked.
There are several insane paranoid precautions you should take specifically when doing anything after dark. Apparently rapists are vampires.
When you're shopping at night, or if the lot looks eerily empty, ask store personnel for a security guard to walk you to your car. If there isn't one available, keep a hand free of packages as you walk to your car, and stay in the middle of the parking-lot aisle, away from vehicles, where criminals might be hiding.
Apparently rapists are funhouse vampires, and they operate by jumping out and going "boogy boogy boogy!" . . .
[If your car breaks down] While you wait for help to arrive, do not under any circumstances get out of your car; roll up your windows, lock the doors, and stay inside.
For fuck's sake. Is air toxic to women? I don't know about rapists; this is how I would act if there were velociraptors outside the car."
My introduction to Jennifer Knapp came from WOW 2001 (shut up; it played in the Christian music store where i worked). Her song "Into You" was something entirely new in Christian music. I knew the Point of Grace/Avalon/Petra/Michael W. Smith worship choruses, the Anne Murray hymns, and i was learning about Contemporary Christian Music for the Jesus Youths: DC Talk, Switchfoot, Superchic[k], KJ52, and so forth.
But i had never heard a voice like Jennifer's.
I had heard music that was immediately identifiable as Christian, and i had heard music that you could play at Youth Group OR under the credits of a popular movie or TV show (Switchfoot, i'm looking at "Dare You To Move"). It was in the 90s and early 2000s that young Christian artists began to simply write songs from their hearts, instead of trying to write "church music" (Keith Green and Amy Grant aside). There were still musicians who were trying to hit a particular target, but artists like Jennifer wanted to make art and trusted that God would speak to people through it, just like He has for the past several millennia.
"Into You" remained my only Jennifer Knapp exposure until 2010, when i learned that she had 1. temporarily quit music to spend some time in obscurity and personal growth, 2. just come out as a lesbian who had been in a same-sex relationship for many years, and 3. ended her "retirement" by releasing a new album about her feelings (both about her partner and about Jesus and the Church). I read several interviews, impressed by her reticence and discretion about her personal life, touched by the pain and anger she had felt and expressed, and wishing desperately that the interviewers would stop asking about her girlfriend and start talking about her music, because every time they did i became a bigger fan or Jennifer Knapp. I downloaded the new album and fell in love.
Three years later, she talked to Rachel Held Evans and her fans, and that interview has forever cemented Jennifer's place in my heart. Because not only is she a brilliant and talented musician, but her heart for God is amazing, and she says some stuff that i've been feeling and have been struggling to articulate. I wish i had enough skin to tattoo her words on my body:
". . . If I understand correctly, your journey took you to a point where you now own the fact that you can't not be gay and you can't not be Christian. For the second part of that - What were some of the moments, the thoughts, the experiences that brought you to the point of claiming your faith as a Christian?
There are times in our lives where we are witness to certain events and happenings that radically alter how we will move about our world. We have experiences where we are forever changed in how we see the world around us, how we see ourselves and how we will react in navigating our individually unique journeys. I am grateful that the Gospel spoke to me in such a way. I saw, I experienced, I left altered by a grace that I knew I could never merit nor repay. To this day, my life has never been the same.
Try as I might, the message of Christ continues to inspire and move me, even when no one is looking, even when others insist that I am "doing it wrong" or not acting 'Christian enough'. Being in a church every Sunday isn't why I identify as Christian . . .
Over the years I have continued to question what calling myself a 'Christian' implies. There's a lot to unpack there in terms of religion, tradition, history, theology -- but honestly, in the end, it doesn't matter what anyone calls me. I am and continue to be inspired by my experience with Christ. No one can take that away."
Pervocracy should just write articles taking down other articles. Because seriously? there's a lot of bullshit that needs to be deconstructed, and she does it so well and so hilariously. Here's a takedown of the idea that women "withhold" sex as punishment when men hurt their feelings.
"Some women make a habit of withholding sex from their partners, while some only do it under very specific circumstances. To men, this seems like cruel and unusual punishment.
Some women have sex very often, while others prefer to have sex less often. To men who think everything is about them, this seems like it's all about them . . .
Personally, I've never withheld sex in a relationship, because I couldn't withhold it from myself, but I've turned down sex, um, ones of times! For reasons that had to do with both my partner and myself . . . If I'm not fucking you because I'm unhappy, the main problem is the unhappiness; the fucking problem is only a symptom . . .
When I'm angry at you, I don't want to have you inside my body. This is not some ultimate cruelty that I'm "not above" . . .
Again, ugh, "sex privileges." It's not like I can just hand you the key. I have to be there the whole time and everything."
That last line is one of Pervocracy's greatest contributions to the discussion of "sexual rights": if a guy is hitting on me and i turn him down, i'm not just denying him sex. I'm also denying myself sex. It's not like i can just unscrew my vagina and hand it to him for the night. If he wants to have sex with me, that means i have to have sex with him, too.
Many men (and women! Example: Cosmo) seem to forget this, and talk about sex as a commodity that women hold. Women can choose to give their sex to men or to deny their sex to men. There is little or no discussion of women wanting sex, women pursuing sex, women being "denied" sex, or women actually "having sex with men". Sex is not something women have, it's something they give or keep. And of course there is little or no discussion of women having sex with each other; lesbians are an invention of porn and Katy Perry designed to give sexual pleasure to men. And women do not want sex because they like the sex itself, they want sex because they love their husbands or boyfriends and want to please them, or because it's the third date and they want to turn these guys into their husbands or boyfriends, or because they want a promotion or raise, or because they want attention and affection, or because their biological clocks are ticking and they want babies. Women choose to give men sex for one of these reasons, and they choose to withhold it because they are cranky, or they have a headache, or whatever.
Here's the thing: sex is something that two people do together. Rape is something that one person does to another person. If you want to talk about rape, we can talk about rape, and we can talk about how you can rape my vagina without my consent or enjoyment. In that case, you get laid and i do not. So me denying you sex? Is me denying you rape. But me deciding that i don't really feel like having sex with you? Is me deciding that I do not want to have sex. And maybe it's because i already have a boyfriend and you're not him, or maybe it's because i'm on my period, or maybe it's because you are unattractive to me, or yeah, maybe it's because i'm cranky or have a headache or whatever. But at the end of the day, if i am not having sex with you, it's not because i hate you and want to prevent you from getting laid. It's because i do not want to have sex. So men: stop whining about how women won't let you have sex with them, and start figuring out how you can make women want to have sex with you (hint: more hygiene and fewer rape threats will go a long way).
Monday, December 17, 2012
saving me (love)
Love in all forms. Love from others. Love for others. Love of others for each other. Love for books. Love from my cat. Love for steak. Love from the earth. Promised love. Past love. The hope of future love. Making love. The love of others for one another. Ingrid Michaelson's songs about love. Love, love, love.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Reason #11 Why I Should Live With My Boyfriend
After our lunchtime quickie, he was talking about how excited he was to go again later in the day when we would have more time. "Yeah, that's right," he concluded, "we use sex as foreplay!"
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
winning
It was Saturday night, and my living room was one sip of wine away from a lesbian orgy.
One of my roommates used to sell sex toys from a company called Athena's. Although she is no longer an active representative (or "Goddess", as Athena's calls them), she still had lots of connections within the company. She and my other roommate decided to host a ladies-only party this weekend.
If you've never been to a sex toy party, think of it like a Tupperware party, but with fewer casseroles and more glitter and lube. It started out slow, with things like "Body Dew" (an oil that you mist onto your skin after showering to give yourself a healthy glow) and exfoliating scrubs. Our goddess for the evening, Juliet, demonstrated each product. For some, she chose a volunteer (usually me, since i was sitting next to her), and for some she simply passed around the sample and let everyone try it for themselves.
After the more innocuous beauty products, we moved on to pheromone-infused colognes and something called "Nipple Nibblers". This is a chapstick-like product applied -- you guessed it -- to the nipples. It is supposed to make them perky and produce a either a cool or warm tingling sensation. The exact effects differ from person to person. It is also flavored, for . . . well, for nibbling. For the Nipple Nibblers, Juliet passed the jar around and had each of us apply a small amount to our nipples. In the living room. With everyone else.
This was the last part of the evening with any pretensions to delicacy and innocence. Other tester products were given to girls to take into the bathroom, from whence they returned wreathed in smiles and sat back down awkwardly. And then we got to the toys. Let's just say that i no longer have any questions about anal sex or the different varieties of female orgasm and leave it at that.
At the end of the demonstration, we retired to the kitchen for penis cake and more wine, while girls went one by one into the living room to do their ordering privately. As hostesses, we were entitled to a discount rate based on the amount our friends had spent. Like commission-based store credit. Since one of my roommates was still entitled to her Athena's discount and i was not really in the market for anything, the whole credit went to one lucky roomie.
We're planning a co-ed (or Jack and Jill, to use the Athena's parlance) party for February. Right before Valentine's day. So that couples can . . . I can't think of any more polite euphemisms. It's so couples can get sexy with one another and singles can get sexy alone. Carissa, you are totally invited.
One of my roommates used to sell sex toys from a company called Athena's. Although she is no longer an active representative (or "Goddess", as Athena's calls them), she still had lots of connections within the company. She and my other roommate decided to host a ladies-only party this weekend.
If you've never been to a sex toy party, think of it like a Tupperware party, but with fewer casseroles and more glitter and lube. It started out slow, with things like "Body Dew" (an oil that you mist onto your skin after showering to give yourself a healthy glow) and exfoliating scrubs. Our goddess for the evening, Juliet, demonstrated each product. For some, she chose a volunteer (usually me, since i was sitting next to her), and for some she simply passed around the sample and let everyone try it for themselves.
After the more innocuous beauty products, we moved on to pheromone-infused colognes and something called "Nipple Nibblers". This is a chapstick-like product applied -- you guessed it -- to the nipples. It is supposed to make them perky and produce a either a cool or warm tingling sensation. The exact effects differ from person to person. It is also flavored, for . . . well, for nibbling. For the Nipple Nibblers, Juliet passed the jar around and had each of us apply a small amount to our nipples. In the living room. With everyone else.
This was the last part of the evening with any pretensions to delicacy and innocence. Other tester products were given to girls to take into the bathroom, from whence they returned wreathed in smiles and sat back down awkwardly. And then we got to the toys. Let's just say that i no longer have any questions about anal sex or the different varieties of female orgasm and leave it at that.
At the end of the demonstration, we retired to the kitchen for penis cake and more wine, while girls went one by one into the living room to do their ordering privately. As hostesses, we were entitled to a discount rate based on the amount our friends had spent. Like commission-based store credit. Since one of my roommates was still entitled to her Athena's discount and i was not really in the market for anything, the whole credit went to one lucky roomie.
We're planning a co-ed (or Jack and Jill, to use the Athena's parlance) party for February. Right before Valentine's day. So that couples can . . . I can't think of any more polite euphemisms. It's so couples can get sexy with one another and singles can get sexy alone. Carissa, you are totally invited.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
never settle
My new tattoo is about a week old on my skin, and about four years old in my head.
Some time during my freshman year of college, i think around spring break, my mom and i had a conversation about boys. I don't remember anything about this conversation except that it concluded with her saying, "Don't ever settle."
At that time, i was thinking about getting a tattoo, but couldn't decide what i wanted. I would draw doodles (usually birds) or write slogans on my skin with Sharpies (usually on my arms, because they were easiest), trying out colors and sizes and designs, but nothing seemed quite right. I tried a few variations of "never settle", but somehow it didn't quite fit. I eventually settled on the swallow tattoo that was the subject of my last post, and moved on.
I wasn't planning to get another tattoo. I still had some ideas that i liked, but nothing that seemed quite as right as the swallow.
I kept on thinking about the idea of settling, though. I thought about what it meant to settle, and what kinds of situations i had settled in before. I thought about settling romantically, academically, professionally, and spiritually.
I thought about boys i had dated and why, and determined that i would not settle for anything other than what i wanted or deserved ever again. And then i settled. Twice in a row.
I thought about classes and assignments where i should have done better but instead chose to slack off, and determined that i would never again settle for less than what i was capable of. And then i slacked off. In too many classes to mention.
I thought about the job i really wanted and what i would have to do to get it, and determined that i would let nothing get in my way. And then -- well, you can probably guess where this is going.
I spent the first three years of college settling in pretty much every area of my life. I looked for "good enough", instead of holding out for "best". Understand, i'm not trying to disparage the people in my life or the experiences i had or the places i worked. I'm just saying that anything that isn't what you really want is settling, even if it is objectively "better" than your heart's desire. A job that pays a million dollars an hour is settling, if what you really want to do is teach public school. Marrying the world's most perfect man is settling, if you're not really in love with him. Maintaining a perfect 4.0 GPA through college is settling, if you're not passionate about your studies and don't feel that you're getting a full and well-rounded experience.
All of this reflection and determination and settling culminated in the relationship with Casey, where i hung on for over a year because i thought that this was the best thing i could expect. My friend "Ben" argued with me, saying, "Right now, you think you're eating steak. But actually, it's cat food. And you think it's delicious, because you've never had steak before. But one day, you'll have real steak, and you'll be like, 'Why was I eating this shit for so long?'" Eventually, finally, i ended things with Casey, and promptly made the catastrophically bad decision to give my virginity to Theo. More settling. Like i mentioned in the earlier post, i had not had the sex that God wanted for me. I had settled for something less.
My best friend "Sue" and i actually made similar bad decisions on the same night, and talked about it quite a lot over the next few weeks. Although the decisions themselves were similar, the histories leading up to those decisions were very different. However, we were both settling. Sue, knowing nothing of the phrase from my mom that was still bouncing around in the back of my head, said to me, "Let's make a pact. You and i have spent the last three years settling for less than what we want and deserve. Let's make this year different. I think our slogan for 2010-2011 should be 'never settle'."
Of course, i agreed.
A few weeks later, i was reading some cheap celebrity magazine. I don't remember which one, but probably US Weekly. Don't judge. They had a section on tattoo placement, and explained that a rib cage tattoo is extremely painful and extremely significant. Part of the significance comes from the pain; if it is really worth getting, it's worth suffering for. Additionally, because the ribs protect your heart and lungs, a tattoo there is basically sheilding the center of your life force. Every heartbeat and every breath will reinforce the message inked forever on your skin. Plus, it's kind of an intimate area, so if someone is going to be seeing or touching it, it's going to be someone who is very important and special to you. I remember curling my arm instinctively around myself, just below my breasts, and inadvertently flashing back to the last person who had touched me intimately (Theo). I resolved again that the next person to touch me there would not be someone i was settling for.
And another week after that, i was sitting in chapel. I don't remember what the message was, only that it was really speaking to me in a lot of ways. I think it was something about being all that you can be. At one point, what the speaker said was so poignant and appropriate to the moment that Sue texted me (yes, we text in chapel) and said, "Never settle!"
At that moment, i felt God sit next to me and whisper, "That's going to be your next tattoo."
I whispered back, "God, i'm not getting another tattoo. Remember? I only ever wanted this one."
And He looked at me and whispered, "Really? You're going to argue with ME? This is going to be your next tattoo."
And i whispered, "Yeah, but . . . Oh. Yeah. Okay."
It took a few months until i had the ready cash for it, but now i have this tattoo forever. The text was not a font that the guy had. It is my own handwriting. I liked the idea of inscribing those words on my flesh with my own hand (even though technically someone else did the actual inscribing).
This image, these words, this idea, i've been carrying with me for a long time. And now i will carry them with me forever.
Some time during my freshman year of college, i think around spring break, my mom and i had a conversation about boys. I don't remember anything about this conversation except that it concluded with her saying, "Don't ever settle."
At that time, i was thinking about getting a tattoo, but couldn't decide what i wanted. I would draw doodles (usually birds) or write slogans on my skin with Sharpies (usually on my arms, because they were easiest), trying out colors and sizes and designs, but nothing seemed quite right. I tried a few variations of "never settle", but somehow it didn't quite fit. I eventually settled on the swallow tattoo that was the subject of my last post, and moved on.
I wasn't planning to get another tattoo. I still had some ideas that i liked, but nothing that seemed quite as right as the swallow.
I kept on thinking about the idea of settling, though. I thought about what it meant to settle, and what kinds of situations i had settled in before. I thought about settling romantically, academically, professionally, and spiritually.
I thought about boys i had dated and why, and determined that i would not settle for anything other than what i wanted or deserved ever again. And then i settled. Twice in a row.
I thought about classes and assignments where i should have done better but instead chose to slack off, and determined that i would never again settle for less than what i was capable of. And then i slacked off. In too many classes to mention.
I thought about the job i really wanted and what i would have to do to get it, and determined that i would let nothing get in my way. And then -- well, you can probably guess where this is going.
I spent the first three years of college settling in pretty much every area of my life. I looked for "good enough", instead of holding out for "best". Understand, i'm not trying to disparage the people in my life or the experiences i had or the places i worked. I'm just saying that anything that isn't what you really want is settling, even if it is objectively "better" than your heart's desire. A job that pays a million dollars an hour is settling, if what you really want to do is teach public school. Marrying the world's most perfect man is settling, if you're not really in love with him. Maintaining a perfect 4.0 GPA through college is settling, if you're not passionate about your studies and don't feel that you're getting a full and well-rounded experience.
All of this reflection and determination and settling culminated in the relationship with Casey, where i hung on for over a year because i thought that this was the best thing i could expect. My friend "Ben" argued with me, saying, "Right now, you think you're eating steak. But actually, it's cat food. And you think it's delicious, because you've never had steak before. But one day, you'll have real steak, and you'll be like, 'Why was I eating this shit for so long?'" Eventually, finally, i ended things with Casey, and promptly made the catastrophically bad decision to give my virginity to Theo. More settling. Like i mentioned in the earlier post, i had not had the sex that God wanted for me. I had settled for something less.
My best friend "Sue" and i actually made similar bad decisions on the same night, and talked about it quite a lot over the next few weeks. Although the decisions themselves were similar, the histories leading up to those decisions were very different. However, we were both settling. Sue, knowing nothing of the phrase from my mom that was still bouncing around in the back of my head, said to me, "Let's make a pact. You and i have spent the last three years settling for less than what we want and deserve. Let's make this year different. I think our slogan for 2010-2011 should be 'never settle'."
Of course, i agreed.
A few weeks later, i was reading some cheap celebrity magazine. I don't remember which one, but probably US Weekly. Don't judge. They had a section on tattoo placement, and explained that a rib cage tattoo is extremely painful and extremely significant. Part of the significance comes from the pain; if it is really worth getting, it's worth suffering for. Additionally, because the ribs protect your heart and lungs, a tattoo there is basically sheilding the center of your life force. Every heartbeat and every breath will reinforce the message inked forever on your skin. Plus, it's kind of an intimate area, so if someone is going to be seeing or touching it, it's going to be someone who is very important and special to you. I remember curling my arm instinctively around myself, just below my breasts, and inadvertently flashing back to the last person who had touched me intimately (Theo). I resolved again that the next person to touch me there would not be someone i was settling for.
And another week after that, i was sitting in chapel. I don't remember what the message was, only that it was really speaking to me in a lot of ways. I think it was something about being all that you can be. At one point, what the speaker said was so poignant and appropriate to the moment that Sue texted me (yes, we text in chapel) and said, "Never settle!"
At that moment, i felt God sit next to me and whisper, "That's going to be your next tattoo."
I whispered back, "God, i'm not getting another tattoo. Remember? I only ever wanted this one."
And He looked at me and whispered, "Really? You're going to argue with ME? This is going to be your next tattoo."
And i whispered, "Yeah, but . . . Oh. Yeah. Okay."
It took a few months until i had the ready cash for it, but now i have this tattoo forever. The text was not a font that the guy had. It is my own handwriting. I liked the idea of inscribing those words on my flesh with my own hand (even though technically someone else did the actual inscribing).
This image, these words, this idea, i've been carrying with me for a long time. And now i will carry them with me forever.
Friday, May 20, 2011
purity vs. abstinence, part 3 (pure sex)
Now i have come full circle. Two nights ago, John and i had sex.
We talked and prayed about it beforehand. We are in a committed, monogamous relationship. We both talked about our needs and fears, and we both talked about past relationships. It was only my second time ever having sex (and the first time almost didn't even count), and it was his very first time. We used protection, but we also talked about what we would do if we did get pregnant. We made sure that we were both ready, and then we decided to let it happen naturally. We fell asleep after midnight, and somehow, we both woke up around 4am and were ready to go.
It was still brief and a little awkward, as is to be expected. But i was not horrified when i got up in the morning. I am not now afraid or ashamed. I do not have vague feelings of guilt like i did with Theo. I am not worried about the consequences.
I am in a fair way to fall for this guy big time, and i don't think that sex with him was a mistake or a sin. I think that it was a good thing. Maybe i'm wrong. It certainly wouldn't be the first time i've been wrong about something.
But he took me to get Plan B (there was a mishap with the condom and we are all about better safe than sorry), and he paid for it (that shit is expensive). And he checked up on me later that evening to make sure i wasn't suffering any unpleasant side effects. He's a good guy, and we care about one another. And he takes care of me. And i let him, which is not something i do often. I am fiercely independent, to the point that i often get myself in trouble. But i let him take care of me.
I wear my purity ring with pride. It's not an obvious purity ring, like the ones that say "True Love Waits" or have hearts and crosses on them. It's a rose.
When i had sex with Theo, when i bought my new ring and started to seriously reconstruct my concept of purity, i remembered something my mom told me on that Purity Weekend Adventure so many years ago. She said that i was like a flower, with lots and lots of petals. And she said that every time i do something with a guy, it removes some petals. If i hold hands with a guy, that's a petal. If i make out with him, that's several petals. And while it is normal for teenagers to date and kiss and so forth, she wanted me to keep in mind that the petals don't grow back, and that one day, i would get married. "You want to give your husband the whole flower," she said, totally unconscious of the "deflowering" metaphor hovering at her fingertips. "It's only natural that you'll lose a few of your petals along the way, but you want to keep as many as possible."
I internalized this message far more than i had realized, and found myself depressed after Theo. I began to wonder what, if anything, i had left to offer. I had given away the flower, and i wasn't even dating the guy who had it. I would never get it back.
Then i realized that my mom was wrong. Yes, i had given some things away. But as God had reassured me, i still had plenty of sex to offer, for the rest of my life. I also had humor, warmth, intelligence, and talents. I was still a valuable person with a lot to offer, sexuality aside. And i still had plenty of sexuality. I may have bloomed a little early, but i am not worthless. I have a lot to offer to John, and if it turns out that John is not T.O.M., i'll still have plenty to offer T.O.M., whoever he turns out to be.
I am not worthless. I am a valuable, desirable, lovable person, and John knows that and appreciates it. And sex with him only reaffirms my sense of self-worth.
We talked and prayed about it beforehand. We are in a committed, monogamous relationship. We both talked about our needs and fears, and we both talked about past relationships. It was only my second time ever having sex (and the first time almost didn't even count), and it was his very first time. We used protection, but we also talked about what we would do if we did get pregnant. We made sure that we were both ready, and then we decided to let it happen naturally. We fell asleep after midnight, and somehow, we both woke up around 4am and were ready to go.
It was still brief and a little awkward, as is to be expected. But i was not horrified when i got up in the morning. I am not now afraid or ashamed. I do not have vague feelings of guilt like i did with Theo. I am not worried about the consequences.
I am in a fair way to fall for this guy big time, and i don't think that sex with him was a mistake or a sin. I think that it was a good thing. Maybe i'm wrong. It certainly wouldn't be the first time i've been wrong about something.
But he took me to get Plan B (there was a mishap with the condom and we are all about better safe than sorry), and he paid for it (that shit is expensive). And he checked up on me later that evening to make sure i wasn't suffering any unpleasant side effects. He's a good guy, and we care about one another. And he takes care of me. And i let him, which is not something i do often. I am fiercely independent, to the point that i often get myself in trouble. But i let him take care of me.
I wear my purity ring with pride. It's not an obvious purity ring, like the ones that say "True Love Waits" or have hearts and crosses on them. It's a rose.
When i had sex with Theo, when i bought my new ring and started to seriously reconstruct my concept of purity, i remembered something my mom told me on that Purity Weekend Adventure so many years ago. She said that i was like a flower, with lots and lots of petals. And she said that every time i do something with a guy, it removes some petals. If i hold hands with a guy, that's a petal. If i make out with him, that's several petals. And while it is normal for teenagers to date and kiss and so forth, she wanted me to keep in mind that the petals don't grow back, and that one day, i would get married. "You want to give your husband the whole flower," she said, totally unconscious of the "deflowering" metaphor hovering at her fingertips. "It's only natural that you'll lose a few of your petals along the way, but you want to keep as many as possible."
I internalized this message far more than i had realized, and found myself depressed after Theo. I began to wonder what, if anything, i had left to offer. I had given away the flower, and i wasn't even dating the guy who had it. I would never get it back.
Then i realized that my mom was wrong. Yes, i had given some things away. But as God had reassured me, i still had plenty of sex to offer, for the rest of my life. I also had humor, warmth, intelligence, and talents. I was still a valuable person with a lot to offer, sexuality aside. And i still had plenty of sexuality. I may have bloomed a little early, but i am not worthless. I have a lot to offer to John, and if it turns out that John is not T.O.M., i'll still have plenty to offer T.O.M., whoever he turns out to be.
I am not worthless. I am a valuable, desirable, lovable person, and John knows that and appreciates it. And sex with him only reaffirms my sense of self-worth.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
purity vs. abstinence, part 2 (the mistake)
I broke up with Casey in the end of June 2010. We talked about a possible reconciliation, but i just couldn't bring myself to want it. I wanted to want it, because i wanted to be right about him. I wanted to believe that i had been right to trust him and to keep holding on to the relationship for so long, despite everything that should have made me run. But i was done.
Then i went to the wedding of the couple i mentioned in the last post. At the wedding, i talked to "Theo". Theo and i had a lot of mutual friends, and we had had a few classes together. He was bright and attractive and musically talented, and had a great sense of humor. I didn't have a crush on him or anything, and i had never even been attracted to him. I just acknowledged the fact that he was good looking. But i had always felt that if we ever spent any time together, we would be good friends. We had a lot in common, but we had never really hung out.
At the wedding, we hung out and really hit it off. At the reception, we hung out some more, and it was awesome. We were the only two people not dancing, and we sat together at my table and chatted about dancing, and school, and past relationships. At one point, i said, "It's funny. Being single at a wedding is supposed to make you feel melancholy, but i really don't. I mean, it would be nice to have someone, but i'm SO relieved to be out of my last relationship that i'm actually really happy to be single."
Theo laughed and gave me a significant look and said, "Oh, believe me, I know EXACTLY what you mean." I knew enough about Theo's last relationship to interpret this remark. He and "Ruth" had been off-and-on for two years. They would date for a few months, break up for a few days or weeks, and get back together. Everyone knew that their relationship was toxic and that they made each other miserable, but somehow they couldn't seem to figure out how to stay broken up. However, this last breakup had lasted for a month or so, and it really looked like they were done. And now, Theo was saying (or at least strongly implying) that he was glad and relieved to be done.
That night, i went to Theo's apartment with a bunch of our friends. We watched movies until the wee hours, and slowly, everyone else went to bed until it was just me and Theo. And then we had sex.
It really was a very sudden and unexpected thing. We were watching movies, and then we were secretly holding hands, and then we were groping each other under the covers, and then he popped my cherry. It was brief and awkward and uncomfortable and not the least bit romantic or hot or enjoyable. At least not for me. He did at least finish (unlike me), and then he cleaned me up and went to sleep on the floor, allowing me to keep the bed.
I didn't sleep at all that night. I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out what had happened and how. I was even more confused about sexual morality than i had been before, and had no idea what this would mean for my future.
I spent the next several months dealing with the consequences of my actions. This included taking Plan B. I had to buy it myself, because Theo never asked if i was on birth control, or checked up on me in any way, except for one conversation after Ruth found out, where we talked in very broad terms about how we felt emotionally. The consequences also included confessing my sin to a few different people, because while i was certain that i had sinned, i didn't know which part of what had happened was the sinful part. Was it because i wasn't in love with him? Was it because we weren't dating? Was it because it was impulsive and we didn't use protection or pray about it beforehand?
One of the hardest consequences to face was the fact that Theo decided to get back together with Ruth. And he didn't tell her about the multiple girls (that's right, it wasn't just me) that he had slept with while they were broken up. And before you start quoting Ross Geller and debating about the wisdom and morality of Theo's decision, you have to at least agree that he should tell her that he slept around while they were broken up/on a break/whatever, rather than giving her the impression that he had been totally faithful and Christlike (which is what he did). So i had to be the one to break the news to Ruth. I have never seen that look in someone's eyes before, and i never want to again. (For those wondering, Theo and Ruth are engaged to be married this summer.)
This ruined my budding friendship with Ruth and complicated some of my other friendships. Even now, nine months after the fact, i keep finding people who know about what happened and have changed their opinion of me because of it. And i know that there are still some people who don't know. My parents don't know. One of my sisters doesn't know. John knows, but if he's not T.O.M., that means that there is still at least one boyfriend to tell. And even when i find those wonderful people (happily, this is most of my friends) who do not judge me, but rather accept my mistake with love and understanding, it still signals a change in their view of me. I am not the person they thought i was.
But during all of this confusion, pain, and doubt, God was there. He protected me, and kept His hands upon me, allowing me to deal with the many consequences and layers of what had happened one at a time. I had to deal with changed friendships, i had to deal with buying Plan B, i had to deal with ostracism and awkwardness, but i was able to take it one step at a time.
The last thing i dealt with was the question of morality. One day, i was walking to work, and i was praying. And all of a sudden, i was overwhelmed with a sense of sadness and shame. God was walking beside me, and He nodded sadly and said, "Yes. You have sinned."
I apologized, and asked Him to forgive me. I didn't want Him to be angry with me. And this is where God displayed His true awesomeness and the depth of His love and forgiveness: He put His arms around me and said, "I'm not mad. I'm just sad. I wanted you to have something better."
He then explained it to me in terms that i could understand. Imagine that i wanted to give you a present. I wanted to give you a chair. I had your friends help me take secret measurements. I took copious notes on the way that you sit, on what you look for in a chair, on your weight and height and design preferences. I chopped down a tree and started cutting and carving, custom-making the perfect chair for you. I wanted you to have something that would last you a lifetime, something that would be both beautiful and useful, something that would fit your body and desires perfectly. (Now the sexual metaphor is starting to make sense, right?) At last, it was done. I gave it a final polish and brought it to your house. And you said, "Oh, this is perfect! We are having a bonfire tonight and I was afraid we would run out of wood." And then you threw it on the fire.
Now, i'm not God. So chances are i'd be pretty pissed initially. But ultimately, i would be disappointed, because what i wanted was for you to have this perfect chair. I wanted you to have something that would last you a lifetime, that would be useful, that would give you pleasure, and that would fulfill your needs.
It's not like you just threw it away or stuck it in the attic, right? You got use out of my gift. It gave you pleasure. It fulfilled your needs. But you did not get as much use out of it as you would have if you had used it the way i intended you to use it. You did not get as much pleasure out of it as i had intended. And it did not fulfill as many of your needs as deeply as it would have. And i am sad, because i wanted you to have something more. I gave you something beautiful, but you didn't see it for what it was. You took my incredible gift and you ignored it, and because of that, you missed out on the wonderful thing i intended for you to have.
Moving away from the chair metaphor, God is amazing. So after we cried and hugged it out, He gave me a second gift: the rest of my life. He reminded me that i still get to have amazing sex in the future. I'll never get my first time back again, but i can still have the sex that God wanted me to have. My sin was in ignoring the gift i should have had, but i was able to redeem myself by recommitting to that gift.
I bought myself a new purity ring. Not an abstinence ring, but a purity ring. I committed myself to purity, to sex as God intended it, to love and fidelity and lifelong pleasure and joy.
Then i went to the wedding of the couple i mentioned in the last post. At the wedding, i talked to "Theo". Theo and i had a lot of mutual friends, and we had had a few classes together. He was bright and attractive and musically talented, and had a great sense of humor. I didn't have a crush on him or anything, and i had never even been attracted to him. I just acknowledged the fact that he was good looking. But i had always felt that if we ever spent any time together, we would be good friends. We had a lot in common, but we had never really hung out.
At the wedding, we hung out and really hit it off. At the reception, we hung out some more, and it was awesome. We were the only two people not dancing, and we sat together at my table and chatted about dancing, and school, and past relationships. At one point, i said, "It's funny. Being single at a wedding is supposed to make you feel melancholy, but i really don't. I mean, it would be nice to have someone, but i'm SO relieved to be out of my last relationship that i'm actually really happy to be single."
Theo laughed and gave me a significant look and said, "Oh, believe me, I know EXACTLY what you mean." I knew enough about Theo's last relationship to interpret this remark. He and "Ruth" had been off-and-on for two years. They would date for a few months, break up for a few days or weeks, and get back together. Everyone knew that their relationship was toxic and that they made each other miserable, but somehow they couldn't seem to figure out how to stay broken up. However, this last breakup had lasted for a month or so, and it really looked like they were done. And now, Theo was saying (or at least strongly implying) that he was glad and relieved to be done.
That night, i went to Theo's apartment with a bunch of our friends. We watched movies until the wee hours, and slowly, everyone else went to bed until it was just me and Theo. And then we had sex.
It really was a very sudden and unexpected thing. We were watching movies, and then we were secretly holding hands, and then we were groping each other under the covers, and then he popped my cherry. It was brief and awkward and uncomfortable and not the least bit romantic or hot or enjoyable. At least not for me. He did at least finish (unlike me), and then he cleaned me up and went to sleep on the floor, allowing me to keep the bed.
I didn't sleep at all that night. I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out what had happened and how. I was even more confused about sexual morality than i had been before, and had no idea what this would mean for my future.
I spent the next several months dealing with the consequences of my actions. This included taking Plan B. I had to buy it myself, because Theo never asked if i was on birth control, or checked up on me in any way, except for one conversation after Ruth found out, where we talked in very broad terms about how we felt emotionally. The consequences also included confessing my sin to a few different people, because while i was certain that i had sinned, i didn't know which part of what had happened was the sinful part. Was it because i wasn't in love with him? Was it because we weren't dating? Was it because it was impulsive and we didn't use protection or pray about it beforehand?
One of the hardest consequences to face was the fact that Theo decided to get back together with Ruth. And he didn't tell her about the multiple girls (that's right, it wasn't just me) that he had slept with while they were broken up. And before you start quoting Ross Geller and debating about the wisdom and morality of Theo's decision, you have to at least agree that he should tell her that he slept around while they were broken up/on a break/whatever, rather than giving her the impression that he had been totally faithful and Christlike (which is what he did). So i had to be the one to break the news to Ruth. I have never seen that look in someone's eyes before, and i never want to again. (For those wondering, Theo and Ruth are engaged to be married this summer.)
This ruined my budding friendship with Ruth and complicated some of my other friendships. Even now, nine months after the fact, i keep finding people who know about what happened and have changed their opinion of me because of it. And i know that there are still some people who don't know. My parents don't know. One of my sisters doesn't know. John knows, but if he's not T.O.M., that means that there is still at least one boyfriend to tell. And even when i find those wonderful people (happily, this is most of my friends) who do not judge me, but rather accept my mistake with love and understanding, it still signals a change in their view of me. I am not the person they thought i was.
But during all of this confusion, pain, and doubt, God was there. He protected me, and kept His hands upon me, allowing me to deal with the many consequences and layers of what had happened one at a time. I had to deal with changed friendships, i had to deal with buying Plan B, i had to deal with ostracism and awkwardness, but i was able to take it one step at a time.
The last thing i dealt with was the question of morality. One day, i was walking to work, and i was praying. And all of a sudden, i was overwhelmed with a sense of sadness and shame. God was walking beside me, and He nodded sadly and said, "Yes. You have sinned."
I apologized, and asked Him to forgive me. I didn't want Him to be angry with me. And this is where God displayed His true awesomeness and the depth of His love and forgiveness: He put His arms around me and said, "I'm not mad. I'm just sad. I wanted you to have something better."
He then explained it to me in terms that i could understand. Imagine that i wanted to give you a present. I wanted to give you a chair. I had your friends help me take secret measurements. I took copious notes on the way that you sit, on what you look for in a chair, on your weight and height and design preferences. I chopped down a tree and started cutting and carving, custom-making the perfect chair for you. I wanted you to have something that would last you a lifetime, something that would be both beautiful and useful, something that would fit your body and desires perfectly. (Now the sexual metaphor is starting to make sense, right?) At last, it was done. I gave it a final polish and brought it to your house. And you said, "Oh, this is perfect! We are having a bonfire tonight and I was afraid we would run out of wood." And then you threw it on the fire.
Now, i'm not God. So chances are i'd be pretty pissed initially. But ultimately, i would be disappointed, because what i wanted was for you to have this perfect chair. I wanted you to have something that would last you a lifetime, that would be useful, that would give you pleasure, and that would fulfill your needs.
It's not like you just threw it away or stuck it in the attic, right? You got use out of my gift. It gave you pleasure. It fulfilled your needs. But you did not get as much use out of it as you would have if you had used it the way i intended you to use it. You did not get as much pleasure out of it as i had intended. And it did not fulfill as many of your needs as deeply as it would have. And i am sad, because i wanted you to have something more. I gave you something beautiful, but you didn't see it for what it was. You took my incredible gift and you ignored it, and because of that, you missed out on the wonderful thing i intended for you to have.
Moving away from the chair metaphor, God is amazing. So after we cried and hugged it out, He gave me a second gift: the rest of my life. He reminded me that i still get to have amazing sex in the future. I'll never get my first time back again, but i can still have the sex that God wanted me to have. My sin was in ignoring the gift i should have had, but i was able to redeem myself by recommitting to that gift.
I bought myself a new purity ring. Not an abstinence ring, but a purity ring. I committed myself to purity, to sex as God intended it, to love and fidelity and lifelong pleasure and joy.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
purity vs. abstinence, part 1 (the upbringing)
I was raised to believe in abstinence until marriage. And if you think that sounds weird, allow me to assure you that you don't know the half of it. I was one of those kids that wore a purity ring. I also carried an ATM card (Abstinence Till Marriage. Super cool, right?) in my wallet for several years. I read books, i wore t-shirts, i went away with my mom for a weekend where we talked about sex and i signed a covenant of purity.
And then i got to college.
I have already alluded in previous posts to "Casey", my asshole ex whose treatment of me at times bordered on emotional abuse. While he never explicitly pressured me to have sex with him, there was always an implied desire, and once or twice there were even implied threats of infidelity if i wouldn't put out. Since our relationship was mostly long-distance (i lived in Massachusetts, he lived in Texas), there was no way for me to know if he was being faithful or not. And even if i had decided to have sex with him, i couldn't, because of the distance. He had no job and no money, so he couldn't visit, and i had a job and money but not much, and was trying to save so that i could stay in Massachusetts after i graduated instead of living in Delaware with my dad. So we were pretty much stuck.
The one time he did visit, we almost had sex, but he stopped it just in time. However, we kept talking about when he returned to Massachusetts (he never did), and we eventually decided that sex was going to happen. We were in love, we wanted to get married, so why not?
The almost-sex, plus the decision to go through with it one day, sent me into a tailspin of questions about sexual morality. I carried a load of guilt about what had almost happened, and spent a lot of time reading the Bible, praying, and talking to friends about it. I wanted to know if premarital sex was really sinful, and if so why, and if not, when was it okay? And all this time, Casey was still far away, and going through a months-long depression that left him too listless and down to talk to me. At all. There were definitely times when i felt that it was a moot point, and that i would never talk to him again, but i loved him, and i kept on hoping.
Meanwhile, one of my closest friends was having sex with her fiance. She talked to me about sexual morality, and shared the guidance that had come from their premarital counselor (who was also my pastor). He said that the Bible never explicitly says that you can only have sex with your spouse. The Bible talks a lot about fidelity and purity, but not a lot about abstinence.
Now, you can make a lot of conflicting arguments about this. Ancient Jewish concepts of marriage were very different from ours, and it would have been difficult for the authors of the Bible to make a distinction between sex and marriage. So from this, you can infer that premarital sex is totally okay, or you can infer that God never bothered to make the distinction because He never intended for sex to exist outside of marriage.
But i was thinking hard about sexual purity, and this is what i realized: purity and abstinence are not necessarily the same thing, and you can have one without the other. For example, if a man and woman are married to one another and love each other and are having consensual, vanilla sex with one another and no one else, i don't think there is a single person or organization who would argue that that is impure. Let's also posit that they are religious, and that they believe that sex is a gift from their god to bless and sanctify their marriage. Sex in this case is pure and holy and based on love. They are living sexually pure lives, but they are not abstaining from sex. Or imagine someone who is fighting with their significant other and is witholding sex as a punishment. This is abstinence, but it is not sexually pure.
So which one matters most? If i had to choose, i would say that purity is what matters. If you really love someone, and they really love you, and you want to express that love physically, i think that's okay. Sex must be tempered with love, commitment, and respect, but sex in and of itself is not intrinsically morally reprehensible, even if it happens outside of the bounds of holy matrimony.
After reaching this conclusion, Casey and i broke up. Not because of the sex issue, but because he was a dick and i finally couldn't take it anymore. Have you ever been in a basement or attic or some small, dim, stuffy room? At first, it's kind of uncomfortable, but not totally unbearable. But it continues to get worse and worse, and you start to suffocate more and more, and then all of a sudden you feel like you're going to die and you run outside and breathe in the fresh air and sunshine. Everything is brighter and warmer and cooler and softer and cleaner. Everything is more beautiful and smells better than it ever has before. This is what it was like to go from dating Casey to dating John.
Anyway, i was still confused and vulnerable and hurting. My head was a wreck from Casey, and i was still not really sure about the whole sex thing. It's difficult to change twenty years of habits and beliefs in a few months. And i was also pretty sure that i was changing for the wrong reasons. It is impure to have sex to keep your boyfriend from leaving you or cheating on you or both. It is impure to have sex just because you're horny and don't feel like exercising self-control. It is impure to have sex because you're angry and hurt and confused and vulnerable. Which leads me to part 2.
And then i got to college.
I have already alluded in previous posts to "Casey", my asshole ex whose treatment of me at times bordered on emotional abuse. While he never explicitly pressured me to have sex with him, there was always an implied desire, and once or twice there were even implied threats of infidelity if i wouldn't put out. Since our relationship was mostly long-distance (i lived in Massachusetts, he lived in Texas), there was no way for me to know if he was being faithful or not. And even if i had decided to have sex with him, i couldn't, because of the distance. He had no job and no money, so he couldn't visit, and i had a job and money but not much, and was trying to save so that i could stay in Massachusetts after i graduated instead of living in Delaware with my dad. So we were pretty much stuck.
The one time he did visit, we almost had sex, but he stopped it just in time. However, we kept talking about when he returned to Massachusetts (he never did), and we eventually decided that sex was going to happen. We were in love, we wanted to get married, so why not?
The almost-sex, plus the decision to go through with it one day, sent me into a tailspin of questions about sexual morality. I carried a load of guilt about what had almost happened, and spent a lot of time reading the Bible, praying, and talking to friends about it. I wanted to know if premarital sex was really sinful, and if so why, and if not, when was it okay? And all this time, Casey was still far away, and going through a months-long depression that left him too listless and down to talk to me. At all. There were definitely times when i felt that it was a moot point, and that i would never talk to him again, but i loved him, and i kept on hoping.
Meanwhile, one of my closest friends was having sex with her fiance. She talked to me about sexual morality, and shared the guidance that had come from their premarital counselor (who was also my pastor). He said that the Bible never explicitly says that you can only have sex with your spouse. The Bible talks a lot about fidelity and purity, but not a lot about abstinence.
Now, you can make a lot of conflicting arguments about this. Ancient Jewish concepts of marriage were very different from ours, and it would have been difficult for the authors of the Bible to make a distinction between sex and marriage. So from this, you can infer that premarital sex is totally okay, or you can infer that God never bothered to make the distinction because He never intended for sex to exist outside of marriage.
But i was thinking hard about sexual purity, and this is what i realized: purity and abstinence are not necessarily the same thing, and you can have one without the other. For example, if a man and woman are married to one another and love each other and are having consensual, vanilla sex with one another and no one else, i don't think there is a single person or organization who would argue that that is impure. Let's also posit that they are religious, and that they believe that sex is a gift from their god to bless and sanctify their marriage. Sex in this case is pure and holy and based on love. They are living sexually pure lives, but they are not abstaining from sex. Or imagine someone who is fighting with their significant other and is witholding sex as a punishment. This is abstinence, but it is not sexually pure.
So which one matters most? If i had to choose, i would say that purity is what matters. If you really love someone, and they really love you, and you want to express that love physically, i think that's okay. Sex must be tempered with love, commitment, and respect, but sex in and of itself is not intrinsically morally reprehensible, even if it happens outside of the bounds of holy matrimony.
After reaching this conclusion, Casey and i broke up. Not because of the sex issue, but because he was a dick and i finally couldn't take it anymore. Have you ever been in a basement or attic or some small, dim, stuffy room? At first, it's kind of uncomfortable, but not totally unbearable. But it continues to get worse and worse, and you start to suffocate more and more, and then all of a sudden you feel like you're going to die and you run outside and breathe in the fresh air and sunshine. Everything is brighter and warmer and cooler and softer and cleaner. Everything is more beautiful and smells better than it ever has before. This is what it was like to go from dating Casey to dating John.
Anyway, i was still confused and vulnerable and hurting. My head was a wreck from Casey, and i was still not really sure about the whole sex thing. It's difficult to change twenty years of habits and beliefs in a few months. And i was also pretty sure that i was changing for the wrong reasons. It is impure to have sex to keep your boyfriend from leaving you or cheating on you or both. It is impure to have sex just because you're horny and don't feel like exercising self-control. It is impure to have sex because you're angry and hurt and confused and vulnerable. Which leads me to part 2.
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