There are worse things I could do...

Oh, interwebs, you destroy my faith in men one mouse-click at a time. Eventually you'll make me chaste, internet, because I won't be able to stand touching anything with a penis, and I already am not too fond of women.

Thoughts are flying right now.

I've found that, for the most part, the men you find that have these very socially set viewpoints regarding female sexuality land in the white middle-class demographic, occasionally higher middle-class to lower upper-class.

Which makes my life entertaining (and frustrating) because I'm in the white lower upper-class demographic. So I'm surrounded by idiots on the man-front, meaning I have to hunt outside the usual venues available to me for suitable partners.

Okay, maybe "idiots" is too strong a word.

Most of the time, I feel sorry for men.

Didn't quite expect that, did you?

But I do. Social and sexual pressures, I think, are much more intense and demanding of men than of women. But I am biased, as I obviously don't let sexual pressure reach me the majority of the time, so I don't know what it is like for the "sexually standard female". But the need to provide and perform if you are a man seems like it could be rather overwhelming. Along with the bias towards men of "acceptable" expressions of emotion, or even acceptable emotion, and sexual ability... I'm so very glad I'm female, even if some groups of people would think less of me as a person based solely on my physical attributes.

So it really should be no surprise when one encounters men (and women) who have these insane social-sexual complexes regarding not just their own sexuality, but the sexuality of others.

I tend to work in male-dominated fields, and I know that when I step into the office on Day One I better get in there and show that I expect to be treated like every other employee, that I will not use my sexuality to further myself, that I will pull my weight as well as anyone else- and usually better.

I had a conversation with Gone Savage about my set-up when it comes to who pays the bill when on a date. I believe that whoever has the most disposable income should pay the bill, unless otherwise stated before food/movie/ticket purchase is made. And, yes, I have been in relationships or on dates where I have quite happily (and consistently) paid because I knew my partner had less disposable income than I did.

It's about not expecting special treatment based on your gender. If I wish to be treated as an equal in the workplace, in a relationship, with a lover, then I need to make sure I do not expect different treatment based solely on my sex.

If you want someone to respect you, you have to show them that you respect yourself and that you are their equal.

When you go on a date, you are there to enjoy yourself and get to know the other person. Why would you want to put pressure on your partner to pay for the meal, especially if they really can't afford it and really shouldn't be taking you out at this point in their lives due to their finances?

I've read some blogs of late that say if you're the female in the relationship, your partner should be paying for everything to show that he values you. So that he assigns worth to you because if you don't make him take you out to fancy restaurants and if you don't make him (or platonically inspire him) to buy you gifts, then he'll think less of you because you don't demand that he shows you value.

I think that's kinda sick, though it makes sense with some males. That's all they understand. For a girl to have value, for them, she must demand expensive meals and gifts, and she must be difficult to seduce (but not, of course, too difficult). If she does not demand these things, and if she happily hops into bed with them, she's suddenly at the level of call-girl, good for a tumble or two, and then ejected while he continues to search for a girl that "truly values herself".

And you can tell that a girl values herself because, obviously, she's making you take her out to all the finest places and barely giving you a kiss at the end of the evening.

I've gone out with guys, slept with them quickly, and then the next morning, or the next week, when we talk, I look at them and go, "Oh, you're one of those guys. That's disappointing."

And then you write them off.

Because, what, you think you have hope of changing their mind? Ha, right.

A girl emailed me some months ago, through my other blog, about this topic. Here's her question and my reply.

She asked: "Is there any way to explain to a Madonna-whorish guy that my sexuality has no bearing on my worth as a person or on my capacity for love and commitment?"

No.

Because if he can't figure that bit of wisdom out on his own, he's not worth the breath it takes to communicate that, not to mention your time or the emotional upset it would put you through trying to convince the guy of this.

It's not what girls want to hear. It's the guy. We've got great chemistry. He's great in every way but this one. He's perfect.

No, no he's not. Because if he's got the Madonna-Whore complex going on, he's going to have other mental hang-ups as well. And you will never be as happy with him because you will never be able to be comfortable with yourself around him. He will, without trying, make you feel bad about yourself, your sexuality, and your lifestyle. You'l'l have to hide things from him, or act repentant for past behaviors when you aren't.

It will never be worth it.

Don't hide yourself. If you only show people parts of you, then you'll only attract people that can satisfy those parts, and not the whole. Don't settle for less than you are, and don't be afraid of being alone or unwanted. Value yourself, love yourself, respect yourself, be honest with yourself.

That's the best advice I can offer.


Anyhow, she seemed to appreciate the thoughts I presented.

It is hard. It is disappointing more often than not. I don't believe in waiting for that magic date. The idea that some girls have where "I won't put out until at least date number ten" or whatever arbitrary number the assign so they don't feel like a dirty little slut.

My personal philosophy? If I feel like sleeping with you, I'll sleep with you. I'll be safe, respectful, courteous, and aware of my partner. I will engage in full disclosure of my sexual history before sex, but I do not expect it of my partner. I will keep healthy communication. I will get their contact information in case of STD or pregnancy. I will move at a comfortable speed for both parties. I will not feel bad about myself or my activities. I will respect myself, and my partner, in the morning. I will not doubt my judgement. I will not let a man's opinion of me effect my opinion of myself. I will acknowledge when I feel hurt or jilted. I will take care of myself and my body. I will not do anything that makes me uncomfortable. I will try to recognize when I want to sleep with someone because I want and appreciate them, or because I feel the need to be desired. I will keep aware of myself and my needs.

I will own myself and my sexuality.

The reason I can live the lifestyle that I do without damaging myself or others is because I have enough experience behind me to give me a solid sexual base of knowledge. Not of the act itself, but of myself, of men, of reading the signs people give you through words and body, and working with them, of understanding what people are trying to say.

It is important to understand your own sexuality. What you like, what you don't, what intimidates you, what causes repulsion, how you choose your partners, what your partners enjoy about you, and what biases you have... and why you have them.

I wasn't supposed to have this life.

Sounds odd, doesn't it?

When I was fifteen, I was saving myself for marriage. I was a hardcore romantic. I was looking for my soulmate. I would read what romance novels I could get from my mother (she always screened them for too graphic sexual content, so I was constantly stuck with Victoria Holt), sigh and dream of the guy that would come into my life and sweep me off my feet.

Then nature took over.

My own biology and my (now dormant) need to self-destruct.

And now... I'm as I am.

I like who I've become, for the most part. I have a lot to work on, a lot to refine, but I'm actively working on it. I have all the potential I need.

But I'm still not used to this sexism I've been encountering online. I've become so adept at dodging it, at being one of the guys, or at least sexless overall, that it is rare for me to be judged solely on my sex. When it happens, it's like I've slammed into this confusing wall, and I'm staring at it going, "Uh, guys, I know this treehouse is 'No Girls Allowed', but you should probably let me up anyhow."

Oh, oh, or like the Peanut's mini-movie where Snoopy goes to the hospital to visit his original owner and there's a sign on the outside of the hospital that says "NO DOGS ALLOWED" and then this man in a deep voice starts singing "NO DOGS ALLOWED" and Snoopy has to sneak in.

I love Peanuts.

Especially Snoopy's re-enactment of Thanksgiving with handpuppets. Classic.

And this is where everyone notes the lunch-time caffiene has kicked in. Bwah, fear me and my jittery typing.

I'm really not sure what to think when someone tells me that my sexual history cannot possibly be true.

Really? What if I was a porn star? I mean, then my body-count would be like... through the roof. Countless. And on video.

And then I wonder, what life have they experienced that a) proves that my sexual history cannot possibly be real and b) that they have enough experience and knowledge under their belt so that they can honestly state, without a doubt, that I can't possibly have done the things I've done.

Which, really, sure, I've done some great stuff, checked off items on my list of "Things to Do" (and "People to Do" if we're being honest), but it's nothing fantastical. It's nothing that any man or woman couldn't also do if they put the effort behind it. I mean, it took me a few years of half-hearted effort to find a guy with a Sybian, more effort to get to a swing club, and more effort to get two guys to agree to hop in bed with me, within close proximity to each other. That was all this year.

Because I have things I want to do, and I'm going to do them.

Why would I waste the experience I have? Why would I waste my mind and body hiding behind social standards, getting into a relationship where my partner will not allow me to go to orgies, not want to bring other people into the bedroom, so I'm left kicking myself when I'm 50 because, damn, I really wanted to try that DP or the Wobbly H, but my husband/partner isn't into it and I refuse to cheat on the person I'm with when in a closed relationship, so I'm screwed.

But then, I've noticed the general belief that if you're a woman past 30, you might as well never try to get laid because anyone who goes after a woman in their 30s is slumming it because you're just not hot anymore. Or something. So if I'm in my 50s bemoaning the lack of dual-cock in my life, then I'm (not) boned whether I'm single or not.

Of course, with a little plastic surgery, I could be creepily ageless well into my 60s.

God, I can't believe I've gone on one of my rants again.

Society defines sexuality, whatever it is for that moment. You accept it or you don't. You form your own beliefs, own actions, and you do what is right for you. Some people believe in a "live and let live" scenario. Some don't. Some people actively campaign against homosexual marriage because their belief system is so strong that the idea of two people of the same sex having sexual (not to mention romantic) interaction is a violent abberation of all the hold right in the world so they must act against it immediately. Their way is the only way.

Of all the things I've heard this year, been told, read, or written myself, the best has been:

"Whatever floats your boat, as long as it doesn't sink mine."

I try to live by that. I think I succeed rather well.