On tradition

Tradition!  Tradition!

When you are planning a wedding people really like to talk about tradition.  A lot.  And at length.

Tradition and I are on shaky grounds right now.  See, I like tradition in some aspects.  Having fillet mignon for breakfast Christmas morning directly after opening presents, with some nice music in the background?  That's a tradition I like.  It's something I've done every Christmas I've spent at my parents' house, and it's significant to me because it's tied up with my childhood memories.  It's a continuation and reminder of my childhood in many ways.  I also love some of the tradition you get in a sorority-- the outfits we'd wear to initiation, the ritual you know every other chapter also follows, and has been following for decades-- that's pretty awesome, and it's a way of having continuity throughout the group, and something that will link and bind different chapters of women who have never met together.

But wedding traditions?  Well...  they really don't have that much significance to me, and in a lot of cases, I just plain don't like them.

Let me be clear:  I think doing something, solely because it is tradition, is stupid.  I think NOT doing something, solely because it is tradition, is ALSO stupid.  The fact that something is or is not traditional is not what makes me like it or hate it-- but I feel a bit that when I reject things that are "traditional" as if I might be disappointing people-- yet if I do them, I'll be disappointing myself, and tainting the wedding in my mind.

It's very rough for me, as much as I like to please other people, to try to be true to myself and JD here and not just give in and having a wedding that I will hate that will make me sad.  But I just can't.  I can't start out marriage off with something that feels alien to me, something that makes me feel uncomfortable.

So in a lot of cases?  I'm rejecting tradition.  Not because it is tradition-- but because I don't like the connotations of it, or the origin of it, or even the aesthetic of it.

I will, for example, not be wearing a veil.  I don't like the aesthetic of the veil, and I don't like the ideas behind it-- hiding my blushing pure face from people?  Please.  I want to get married with my eyes wide open, staring at JD as we affirm our love and commitment.  I don't want anything to get in the way.  I also don't want to be walked down the aisle by my father.  This is the one I feel the most guilty about, but the connotations of it just deeply disturb me.  It feels like a transfer of property-- like I belong to my father, and then am given to my husband.  Like I am not making my own choice, like I am not a person with agency.  The fact that it is one man, and then i am transferred to another man just bothers me, even though my father is wonderful.  What I would like to do is actually borrow from another tradition.  In many Jewish weddings, the groom is escorted down the aisle by his parents, and the bride is escorted down the aisle by hers.  I like the symbolism and imagery of that-- both of us are leaving our family, both of us are equal, and there isn't the same connotation of woman as property, since we would both be shown to be parting from our parents.  I also like that it incorproates both of my parents, because they're both absolutely wonderful people who, I think, did a great job of raising me.

I'm not parting from all tradition-- I'm planning to wear a white(ish?) dress, and I will incorporate something old, new, borrowed, and blue-- largely because incorporating something blue gives me an excuse to paint my nails a fierce blue :-)  (and yes, I know the something blue is usually lingerie, but nail polish is So. Fun.)  I'll admit, the connotations of a white dress-- with purity and innocence and all that-- do bother me.  But here, I guess my vanity is winning out over my principles-- because I look AMAZING in my wedding dress.  It also isn't technically white-- it's ivory-- which makes me feel at least a touch better.

It's just hard, in thinking about all this, to balance my principles and the expectations of others.  I'm not doing traditional things for tradition's sake-- but the times when I refuse to do traditional things, it isn't simply because I'm trying to flaunt tradition.

We want our wedding to reflect us.  To be purely JD and Amanda.  And if we stick to pure tradition, well-- we'd just be playing roles, instead of being ourselves.

I said "Yes" to a dress

JD and I spent the past ten days visiting his family in Oklahoma, and as part of our trip, his mother took the two of us to Dallas so that she and I could look at wedding dresses there.  I had already looked some in Ohio, and had found one I liked... then looked a bit more in Oklahoma and found a few other good ones.  But in Dallas...

Well, I found the perfect dress, and surprisingly enough, it doesn't have a lot of what I initially wanted.  It doesn't have straps, it isn't a v-neck, it has a high waist instead of a drop waist, and it isn't the material I had in mind, or even quite as creamy colored as I wanted, being much closer to a true white.

But when I tried it on... people, I can TWIRL in this dress.  I look like I stepped out of Swan Lake or something.  I AM AN ETHEREAL FAIRY PRINCESS!  Which is, you know, hard when you're taller than the height of the average American man.  The hilarious part is that one of the dresses I tried on was everything I said I wanted coming in.  It was the perfect dress that I'd built up in my head.  But... it just wasn't perfect.
And the dress I'm going to wear... oh, it is.

We've now accomplished a total of one step on our giant wedding checklist, but hey!  They say starting is the hardest part.  And now I just have to momentum it all forward!

Angry Feminist Rant. Probably Slightly Incoherent.

Questions people often ask feminists online:

Why would you choose to align yourself with a group with such negative connotations?

If you really believe in equality, shouldn't you call yourself an equalist or a humanist, not a feminist?



You know what?  As novel as my understanding of feminism may seem to some people, I didn't blindly come up with it and pull it from whole cloth.  Nope.  I'm a creative person, but I'm not THAT creative.  Instead, I looked around at the prevailing use and definition of the word feminism in feminist circles.  Because really, who are you going to believe-- haters or people who have never bothered to read up on the topic, or people that are immersed in the topic, and have an understanding of the topic, and are part of the community?  It's like when non-Christians try to tell me I'm not Christian because I don't go to church every Sunday, or believe every tenant of whatever Christian denomination they're most familiar with.

And like Christianity-- or any religion, or any political movement, or any other thing someone can self-identify as, there's a lot of wiggle room inside one broad definition.  There are some crazy feminists out there!  I don't know any feminist who denies that!  But there are crazies in Every. Single. Movement.  Modern feminism-- the feminism of women in my age group, the feminism of third wavers, the feminism that is what most people on the internets are talking about when they talk about feminism-- it bears very little relation to radical feminism or the feminism of Andrea Dworkin and Catherine MacKinnon.  Sure, there are still radical feminists out there!  And there are enough of them that if all you want to find are radfem blogs, you could probably do that!  But that is not what the MAJORITY of the modern feminist movement is.  It's incredibly stupid to disavow an entire movement because of radicals who share the label.  You don't throw the movement away-- you get active IN it, and do something!  Granted, most of what I do is just blogging and talking to friends and leaving comments on the blogs of people who drastically disagree with me, but I want to do more, and I want to hold on to feminism, because I believe in it.  I believe that women are every bit as valuable and capable and worth respect as men are.  I believe that who you are should matter more than the genitalia you bear.

As to the name?  Well, the movement is about equality, yes, but with a focus on women, and on advancing women to be equal with men-- as well as on changing some things that do go beyond pure equality.  The equality feminism wants isn't to make men's situations worse to match women, but to make women's better to match men.  But it's true-- while equality is the core, much modern feminism goes beyond that, and looks to ways to better life all around.  Extending paternity and maternity leave, for example, are feminist goals-- yet this goal isn't just pushing for equality, but to expand the status quo into a better situation for both genders.

I think it's kind of awesome, actually, that feminism wants to make things better for everyone, and I have no shame in belonging to a group that prioritizes women.  Every group must have some kind of focus, or nothing will get accomplished.  Feminism is ultimately, fundamentally about women's rights.  By the definition of feminism, things that fight for women's rights are feminist, even if they also fight for other things!  And you know what?  Something having equality at it's core doesn't preclude it from saying "Hey!  Situation X is bad ALL AROUND, let's fix it!" or "Situation Y affects women only, but let's fix it!". (What, you might be wondering could possibly affect only women*?  How about breastfeeding.  Or menstruation.  Or policies surrounding childbirth.  Parenting sure as hell is a men's issue as well as a women's issue, but the choice between a diva cup or tampon or pad and dealing with it when you get one break every X number of hours but have a very heavy flow is an issue most men don't face.

Feminism is still needed.  We've come a long, long way from when my mother first started teaching and was required to wear skirts, and a longer way from when my grandmother was a girl.  Married women and women with children are allowed to hold down jobs.  The wage gap has gotten a lot smaller and isn't as simple as a company literally setting different pay scales for men and women.  It's illegal for a man to rape his wife.  But really.  We've still got a long, long, long way to go.  And I think feminism is necessary to get us there.

Quite simply-- I'm proud that I'm a feminist.

* (ok, this is being very cis-centric, and I realize these issues may also affect transmen, but please stay with me.)

Sex Offenders in Church

Apparently there's been some discussion on whether or not sex offenders should be allowed free access to churches, rating an article in Time, and even discussion in court cases-- but I heard about it in an article at Jezebel.

My reaction to this is basically to wonder how there is even a question here.  Yes, I'm very much against sexual assault, and don't think someone who assaults someone else should just be able to go back to their life as if nothing happened-- but not all sex offenses are actually harmful (public urination, statutory rape committed by a teen to hir close-in-age significant other), and I believe in a deterrence and rehabilitation model of justice, rather than a retributive one.

As both a Christian and a feminist, the double bias is going to show.  But I believe that churches should not only be for those upright citizens who are paragons of virtue.  You shouldn't have to be as "good" of a person as the minister to take part in worship, and you certainly don't have to be blameless to ask God to "lead you not into temptation".   Granted, a large part of church is the community, and adults do have a lot of interaction with children in a church setting-- but unless that adult is a youth group leader or Sunday school teacher, chances are they don't have much one-on-one time with kids.

Note, I also do not think that sex offenders should be ministers (exception-- teenage mutually consenting statutory rape and teenage/college public urination type activities, as long as, you know, that sort of disregard for public spaces didn't stay with them as an adult.).  Ministers should be devoted to living a Godly life in a way that really can't be expected of ordinary people-- that's why it's a calling, instead of just a profession.  That's why they're ministers, instead of parishioners.

But, a regular member of the congregation?  Someone who comes to church to worship in community and who tries to better hirself?  Well, I totally and completely think that sex offenders ought to be allowed to do that, if they're out of jail and living in general society.  And I think that disallowing them, even out of concern for children, is rather unChristian.  Jesus wouldn't shun someone for the crimes ze's committed, and leading people out of lives of sin is supposed to be one of the main functions of churches.

Ugh.  This ties into my problem in general with many modern churches-- the expectation that everyone coming is there to celebrate their own comparatively sinful lives, rather than to unite as sinners who are trying to be good to others and help lift others up.  Part of being Christian is extending love and help to the unloveable, after all.

The Handmaid's Tale: The Fragility of Equality

This is a guest post by JD, my fiance.  He graduated law school in May, and like me, is currently looking for work.  He has previously written a published legal article, and is a part author of a chapter of one of the authoritative texts on federal civil procedure. .  He is one of the most insightful and wonderful people I know.

I picked up a new novel last night with the idea of reading for an hour or so before bed. At around 4am, I finally put down The Handmaids Tale by Margaret Atwood after absorbing its startling epilogue. Atwood spins her dystopian fiction as a disjointed narrative that approaches stream of consciousness, a style that seems to mirror the mind of the novel’s protagonist. Attempting to summarize the plot would not do the book justice, but suffice to say I couldn’t put it down and it gripped me with an odd emotion I don’t normally get when reading: fear.

Fear isn’t actually a response I encounter often when reading dystopian literature. Classics such as 1984 I took in as warnings, with the knowledge that their goal was to teach us to be on our guard, to teach us that being aware of the possibility of such a future was a step in combating it. But 1984 didn’t leave me with a feeling of immediacy, a feeling that such a future could easily come to pass. Though it dealt with sex somewhat, and was partly about the freedom to love, 1984 did not have as its focus a theocratic dystopia based around the subjugation of women. Such a world is the focus of The Handmaids Tale.

Why does that particular structure frighten me more than the dystopia imagined by other authors? Why should I be any more disturbed by that than by Orwell’s emotionally repressed world? The answer is that it hits too close to home. At one point in the novel, the protagonist asks her “Commander”—one of the male leaders of the new theocracy—the all important question: why? His answer is multi-faceted, but mainly is concerned with giving men something to live for again. The rise of feminism and the status of women as equals removed men from their role as protectors, usurped their former place in the world. Rather than combat that emptiness with a new goal, they sought to return to the former status quo. There is no adaptation here, but rather true conservatism on the part of the men; a refusal to adapt to changes in the world and in society. Part of the “Commander’s” defense is that they were merely returning to the way it always had been, that feminism was the anomaly and merely a blink in the course of history.

Those words fill me with fear because in a way they are true. The equality of women is a recent accomplishment, and in a non-legal sense there are still many battles to be fought. The 19^th amendment, granting women’s suffrage in the U.S., was not ratified until 1920—less than 100 years ago. What women have fought so hard for is truly a recent attainment, and parallels the civil rights movement in that regard. The Handmaid’s Tale is frightening because it contemplates a step back and an unraveling of all that has been achieved and that has helped make women more than brood mares and domestic slaves.

               

Even more frightening is that there are those out there who still argue that women belong in a situation like that portrayed in The Handmaids Tale: they are lesser, they exist only for breeding, they shouldn’t be educated. The source of those views is irrelevant, they could be biblically justified, as those in The Handmaid’s Tale were, or they could be the result of individual hatred and stem from individuals who went through bad divorces or have grown to hate all women because of some unfortunate personal experience. Regardless of their origin, people who would embrace the world of The Handmaid’s Tale exist.  They exist, and they must be fought. The battle is not over, and The Handmaid’s Tale shows us a world that might be if those who still believe that women should not have the same rights as men succeed.  In that way it is more than a parable and is to some extent, a call to arms. We cannot take for granted the equality of the sexes; we must remember the struggle it took to get here, and we must continue that struggle against everyone who would try to take that equality away. Regardless of who uttered these words originally, they remain true: the price of freedom is eternal vigilance.

Usually, the search terms that get people to my site are random phrases, about sex, love, love letters, porn, law, or random phrases I've used.  Today, I got one that used a real question.  So.

Dear Chicago, Illinois reader,

Yes, women CAN masturbate while on medication.

Love,
Amanda


Tomorrow is the second half of the bar exam.  I expect to be too busy partying/moving to write until around the fifth, but then expect a flood of more posts while we look for an apartment for next year, plan our wedding, and look for jobs.

Talking About Sex Without Talking About Myself.

One of the main topics of this blog is, clearly, sexuality.  I think that sexuality is something people need to discuss more often and in more detail.  I think our society focusses too much on overt depictions of sexiness and not enough on people actually examining their own desires.  I think we are, strangely, overexposed to images of sex, and underexposed to discussion about sex.  Talking about how much sex kids are having, or different sex posititions, or how many partners you've had doesn't really get into the issues of what sex is and means and can be-- it's all just skimming the surface of an issue that is central to most people's lives, but unexamined.

And one of the problems I have is that when I write, I want to be candid about my own experiences and desires, so that people can know my bias-- know where I come from and know how I've expereinced things, because I do think that an author's expereinces are relevant to his or her writing.  I want to be as fun and candid as Mary Roach is in Bonk-- but I just can't bring myself to be a "sex blogger" instead of a "sexuality blogger".

Part of it is my own personal sense of privacy-- I don't really want my parents or employers reading about my sex life.  It's strangely hypocritical in a way, because I think those sorts of things shouldn't matter to people, and because I think people should be open-- but my ideals are ideals, and the society I live in doesn't always mesh with them well.  It's enough to have people judge me on my political opinions;  I don't need them to think about what I do or do not do in the bedroom.

A second reason is that it's not just about me-- its also about JD, and if I go into my history, any previous partners.  Even if JD doesn't care in general, there might be specific he'd care about-- or he might disagree with my characterizations of things.  Regardless, it's his life too, and he should get an equal say in what gets discussed.

Talking about sex without talking about myself is limiting.  It makes it harder to write about sexuality, but at the same time it forces me to go outside of my personal zone and consider a greater depth of experience.  I think that's a good thing, really-- it's challenging to me as a writer, and also challenging to me as a person.  I have to think about what I think society ought to accept, while disregarding my own personal limits-- something I think we should all do more often.

It does limit my posts though-- because I do want to talk about my own experiences, very much, but I feel that morally, I can't.  Not with my name attached, and not in a public forum where anyone I personally know can easily read my writing.  It's also egotistic, in a way-- why on earth would my sex life be important?  Isn't it enough that I know other people to whom things apply, without it applying to myself?  It should be-- it is-- but when writing, I'm driven to want to be more confessional than I let myself be.  In part, I think it comes from the modern confessional style of writing-  the New York Times modern love series, sex blogs, tell-alls, and reality tv (which sure, I don't watch, but I hear about it, and so it does affect me.

So, talking about sex without talking about myself.  It's hard, but ultimately, it's worth doing.  And I'm going to endeavor to keep it up.

On Dating Jerks

I am a woman who has dated jerks.  I've also dated guys so nice you might mistake them for a puppy dog, but this entry?  This is about the jerks*.

And in a way, it's a thank you to them.

Because I think everyone should, at some point in their life, date a guy or gal who is a huge jerk.

This is counter-intuitive.  Relationships are supposed to be good, to make you happy, to lift you up.  Yeah, that's what they're supposed to be, but anyone who has had multiple relationships often knows that that isn't always true-- and I think dating the jerks is a great learning tool.  True, you can end up in a great marriage with your first serious partner (as my mother did, when she married my dad), but I still think there is a huge benefit to dating a lot, and a lot of different types of people, in your youth.

But there is especially a benefit to dating jerks.

Jerks teach you what you aren't willing to take, and what you aren't willing to compromise on.  They teach you what issues you really care about, and sharpen your ability to argue and to stand up for yourself.  they teach you patience and tolerance, and make you realize how awesome your eventual awesome partner really is.  I would not, at this stage of life, want to date a jerk.  JD is a great guy, truly kind and wonderful, caring and giving, and most definitely not a jerk-- but I think our relationship is actually better because I've dated jerks in the past.

See, JD occasionally does things that make me roll my eyes-- and he isn't afraid to point out when I do things that are also eye roll worthy.  But we talk about those things, and really?  None of them are huge.  We haven't had any huge ideological clashes, and when we do disagree, we're both mature enough to talk it out and come to some sort of compromise.  I am a person who likes to make others happy, so bringing things up can be... well, difficult for me.  As can facing criticism.  But after the personal insults, cutting descriptions, and unreasonable behavior of jerks in the past?  Well, the thought of a small discussion is just not. that. scary. anymore-- really!  Because I dated jerks, I learned that there is nothing someone can do with words that should, or can, stop me from expressing myself.

I also learned through the jerks what sort of things I like... and don't like. See, all the jerks had some of the traits I liked!  Otherwise-- why would I have dated them?  But the also had a lot of traits that I didn't like.  Because I was an obsessive journaler up until, oh, after JD and I started dating, I managed to record a lot of self-analyzing thoughts on the good and bad points of relationships, and I've been able to learn from them and apply them to each successive relationship.  This is the sort of learning that should, ideally, work for most people-- even the non obsessive, non overly analytical-- because we do learn from our past and our mistakes.  I'm hesitant to call past relationships mistakes, because they have shaped who I am today-- but in some cases, staying in them as long as I did WAS a mistake.  But you know, that long lasting annoyance with flaws and characteristics really taught me a lot about my tolerance levels.

I think one of the best parts about dating jerks is that when you do find someone who fits with you just right, you think to yourself wow... so THIS is what this is supposed to be like! and you get to experience a relationship of mutual care, love, and understanding without taking it for granted.  Taking things for granted is, I think, one of the problems a lot of people have-- yes, your partner SHOULD be awesome to you, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't be glad that your partner IS awesome, and it doesn't mean you shouldn't appreciate them and show them that.  Memories of a jerk mean that you don't take that partner for granted.

In short:  They'll teach you what you'll like, what you'll tolerate, how to argue, and you'll appreciate a great partner when you find one.

So thanks, jerks that I've dated.  You've helped make me a better partner, and helped get me into a better relationship.  It probably wasn't your intent, but it sure is a nice side effect.

*This entry also, as JD mused, applies to bitches, if it is ladies that you're dating.

Women, Sexual Desire, and Medication

So!  Hypoactive sexual desire disorder and Flibanserin!  If you read other feministy blogs, you're probably already heard about it-- but if not, the FDA is currently considering the use of Flibanserin as a way to treat premenopausal women with hypoactive sexual desire disorder.  This is a really interesting thing to discuss, and there are different angles to tackle it from-- the fact that science is paying attention to female sexuality and desire, to the fact that it's a further form of medicalizing sexuality, to a discussion of what normal or desirable or hypoactive even mean when we're talking about sex.

Miriam over at Feministing posted a really good question-- "Who decides what is hypoactive (aka not active enough or under active) sexual desire anyway?"  It's a good question because the way we frame issues and discuss them is important-- so here, what is hypoactive sexual desire?  How low does it have to be?  How much of an effect does it have to have-- on the individual woman, or her partner, or the relationship?  What is it being measured by-- her own perceptions, or a comparison to her partner's desire?

I think one of the most important questions to address is how it gets measured-- because I think it's really interesting that we're discussing the hypoactive sexual desire of women... as opposed to, say, hyperactive sexual desire of men.  It's also interesting because a lot of the social messages that people my age got when we were young were that men were interested in sex-- but that to be a good girl, and later a good woman, you shouldn't be interested in those things.  That's changed already, but instead of getting rid of problematic messages, their direction has just changed.

Still-- in most relationships, there will be some level of mismatch between the desires of the people involved.  most of the people I've discussed this sort of thing with are straight cisgender women, and most of them do mention mismatches, however small, in the ways they want sex.  Some women I know have been in relationships where they want more sex than their partners, but most do fit into the stereotype of wanting less sex.  In most healthy relationships, people compromise-- maybe having less sex than partner A wants, but more than partner B wants-- but when the differences are extreme, a true compromise is less likely to leave either partner satisfied.  I have, though, seen women agonizing over what's wrong with them when they don't want to have a lot of sex-- instead of thinking something is wrong with their partner, or acknowledging that really, nothing might be wrong with either of them.  I think that any level of sexual desire is fine, and not something "wrong", but I do think it's interesting how many women tend to blame themselves for any problem in bed.

It's like a modern of application of treating male sexuality as the norm, and female sexuality as abnormal, or an application of how in science, the male body is treated as the default human, and women are-- exceptions.  Hell, there are plenty of commentaries out there on how female biology was not studied, and as such, women were told to look for the same disease indicators as men, even when the illnesses manifested differently.  And still, women are told "Good girls don't, good girls don't", and that men will want sex, and they have to not put out or he won't respect him, but then once they grow up, they have to magically switch their thoughts around and become sexually giving and good in bed, and really embody that virgin/whore dichotomy.

So, what is hypoactive sexual desire?  The most obvious answer is any level of sexual desire that is lower than an individual's partner.  That is clearly not nuanced enough.  To be a disorder, things typically have to interfere with an individual's life, or cause great distress.  I can easily see a much lower sex drive causing distress-- but the question then is, is it causing distress because the individual misses her previous sexual desire, or really wants to have the experience of sex-- or is it causing distress because she has to turn down her partner, and has been socialized to think that one of her main areas of value in a relationship is the sexual pleasure she can give to her partner?  Doing things to please your partner is not wrong, of course-- it's something both people in a relationship should be doing anyway-- but putting an inordinate amount of your self-worth into your sex life is a problem, and one that should maybe be addressed with talk therapy if its part of the motivation in seeking treatment for hypoactive sexual desire.

However, even if there are a lot of troubling things in the way society views female sexuality, the fact remains that there are women who want a higher sex drive and a greater ability to desire and be aroused.  Sure, it does matter why they want a higher sex drive-- but regardless of the reason, isn't treating something they view as a problem a positive?  The medication doesn't seem like it's guaranteeing more orgasms-- but more desire.  Most partnerships are based on a combination of elements, but sexual desire is usually an important part of them-- especially in younger couples.  While I understand the resentment of at least one asexual woman, the point here is that there are people who are not asexual, but who are not feeling sexual desire.  A lack of sexual desire can be truly troubling-- I've read stories before about women who want to want their partners, and how a growing gap of desire causes problems in relationships.  If this drug does

Thoughts?  Concerns?

The Wage Gap and Women's Choices

Some thoughts on the wage gap, women's chocies, and Clay Shirky's A Rant About Women, courtesy of my Feminist Jurisprudence class.

Sex Robots

Two days ago while browsing Reddit, I ran across a really looooong thread dealing with.... sex robots.  Not Real Dolls, but robots that are actually.. active participants.  And then a short while later on one of the women's interest subforums... another thread, asking what women think about sex robots.

You want to know what I think?  I think they're creepy.  Effing creepy.  And I think they can't come soon enough.  Seriously.  Just because something creeps me out (in this case... it's like a person!  But not!  And it doesn't have emotions or feelings, but it pretends to!  And it probably doesn't feel/look/act like a real person!  And what happens when the robots take over, figure out how to make themselves look like YOU and then steal your identity?  Huh, what then?) doesn't mean I don't think it is perfectly fine for other people.

Just think about it:

Guys/gals who can't get laid for whatever reason?  Sex robot!
Guys/gals who really like variety?  Sex robot!
Guys/gals who think women/men are only good for sex?  Sex robot!

Come on now-- how awesome would it be?  The people who really are good partners would most likely still keep dating and being good partners-- after all, a sex robot is a SEX robot.  Not a love robot, not a cuddle robot, not a talk about your favorite fantasy series till 2AM then jump around making animal noises robot.  It's a sex robot.  But a lot of people on the thread seemed to think that it would be a terrible threat to women.

I get the threat, but I just don't agree.  I don't think it's there.  I also get the worry that sex robots will lead to more men thinking women are only good for sex, but I don't think that's true either.  I do think it will reinforce the guys that are already misogynistic jerks but-- like porn-- I think it's only going to amplify what's already there, not make it from whole cloth.

I do get that sex toys that look just like women reinforce the idea that a woman's worth is in sex.  I do.  But I do think it's healthier to keep guys who think like that away from real women.  There is the danger, of course, of how sex bots would be used by people in relationships-- if they'd be used by men as tools to make women jealous and control them, or ways to diminish a partner's sense of his or her own value.  After all, sexual attraction isn't everything in a relationship, but it is pretty damn important to most people.  A partner who says "I love you and you're attractive, but this robot is so much hotter and more fun to fuck" is going to be REALLY BAD for the other person's self esteem, and for the relationship itself.  Sex robots would be completely different from vibrators in this way-- vibrators are generally not used as an alternative to sex, but a way to enhance sex, or a way to get off when sex isn't an option.  Sure, there are likely a few people out there who prefer using a vibrator to doing their partner, but... for most, I think the real, actual, human contact wins out.

Another upside to sex bots?  They can provide youths of all genders a way to explore sexuality without risk or STDs or pregnancy.  They can allow individuals to explore kinks that their partner isn't into.  They can allow someone who is in a long term relationship a more satisfying masturbatory experience.  But the bottom line to me remains that they would give sexually frustrated jerks an outlet without harming any real people-- including prostitutes, who always face the risk that a client might decide to take things too far and leave her with lasting harm.

Skirt Challenge!

So.  There you go.  Six more days of me wearing skirts.  I did it!  I wore skirts or dresses for a total of seven days straight!  I couldn't manage to gt blogger to put them in the proper order, but you can get an idea of the shifts in weather by the shifts in clothing-- from stifling heat the day I wore the mini skirt, to fifty degree weather the days I wore the sweaters.  I do like wearing skirts and dresses.  I used to wear them more often than pants, but jeans are more durable, and I somehow have just ended up with less skirts, and less shirts that go with my skirts.  Wearing skirts doesn't really impact my day to day life-- I spend most of my time sitting down, studying.  It does make me automatically feel more "put together", though I do think that some outfits with jeans are more flattering than some of my outfits with skirts.  It also sort of helps trick me into studying more when I'm in the more "professional" looking clothing.  Skirts definately aren't appropriate for everything though-- hiking or the gym?  I'd get all tangled up, and be uncomfortable.  But for everyday life, well... I'm going to make a conscious effort to wear them more often.  I might wait until it gets warmer again though, because right now?  it is COLD and I hate stockings.  They just aren't comfortable, and comfort is a high priority to me during exams.

Amusingly, the days it was warm it seemed like nearly everyone else was wearing skirts too.  But it's been a ridiculously cold spring.  I'm also likely to keep taking pictures of my outfits, and posting them at my flickr account.  So.... outfits behind the jump!

Challenge: skirts and dresses!

I love a good challenge.  And so when I saw a challenge to wear skirts or dresses for a week, and post the pictures as proof... well, I couldn't pass it up.  Spring has finally, finally come to Boston!  Unfortunately, today has not been amazing for me... what you see to the right is me, in glasses, a shapeless dress, having showered with Boston's aquapocalyse dirty water and gone back to bed, ill, till after 1:00.  So, not really at my best.  Plus, it's an iPhone pic.  But still.

The challenge for this came from a site I don't actually frequent, from a blog I do read-- if you follow the links, you'll notice I'm pretty far, politically, from them.  So... why am I (sort of, ok, my skirts are probably not quite as long as they'd like) taking part in their challenge?  Well, it seems like a fun idea.  It isn't intending to prove any point.  And I like fun ideas, regardless of who comes up with them-- we should judge all ideas on their merits, instead of based on whether or not we agree with the speaker.

Also, I think it's really interesting to read about people who aren't like me-- who have different values, different beliefs, and different lives.  It's one of the things that makes blogs and the interent kind of awesome, really-- especially when people who disagree can actually talk civilly about things.

Plus?  I just love streotypicaly "girly" and "feminine" stuff.  I'm a feminist, but I understand that that has nothing to do with whether I enjoy wearing skirts and cooking.  I remember in college, one of my sorority sisters asked me one day if I ever wore anything but skirts.  But here in Boston... well, it's just so much easier to wear jeans every day!  But I'm not going to.  One week.  We'll see if it sticks.

Also?  The shoes aren't pictured because I've been barefoot most of the day.  Being sick will do that!
The beer is Abita Turbodog.  I figure, if I'm showing off my wardrobe, I might as well show off what I drink, too.

Choice After Death?

A large part of feminism is about the importance of choices-- the importance of making them freely, and the importance of trusting women to make them.  The political discourse usually centers around the choices about what to do regarding a pregnancy-- but really, the relevant choices extend into every aspect of life, and feminism is about letting women have agency and not making important choices for them.

So where do those choices stop?

I saw something today about the idea of opt-out organ donorship rather than opt-in, and some of the reactions were a little surprising to me-- but honestly, they were fairly in line with the ideal of choice. Though I see a dead body as simply a body, some of the Feministe commenters worried that less well off individuals would receive worse treatment under an opt-out policy, and some felt that bodily integrity and choice, even after death, ought to be paramount.

I do see the issues.  There is a large chance that if there is improper behavior it would impact the poor gar more severely than others.  There is also the fact that, if it is an opt out system, people without licenses or state ids would unwittingly be taking part and consenting, merely by existing.

The thing is, to me at least, that once we are dead-- well, choice no longer matters so much.  Or at least, our choice.  After all, we're dead.  Maybe it still matters to our living loved ones, the people we've left behind, but I highly doubt that nay higher power will hold the actions of others against us after we die.  And if my organs or body can do someone else good-- through a transplant, research, or study-- well, that's a hell of a lot better than letting my organic remains be preserved and stuck in the ground.  And I am admittedly biased, in that I have opted in to organ donation, and in that I would like my body to have use after my death-- but this is one case in which I think making people opt out is not that large of a harm.  We're all part of a complex system of living things, and our preserving corpses in the ground is, to me, a strange denial of that fact.  I think that once the consciousness leaves, the body itself becomes just an empty shell-- and as such, if it can give someone else life or promote research-- well, thats a definite positive.

Compulsory Heterosexuality

One of the most simultaneously interesting and annoying concepts I learned about this semester in feminist jurisprudence was the idea of compulsory heterosexuality*.  At first, I was pissed off-- I don't like being told that my feelings are the result of some societally programmed false consciousness-- but at the same time, I do know that socialization has a huge effect on who we become as people-- nature creates a map, but nurture provides the force to guide us around that map.

So I ended up thinking more about compulsory heterosexuality, and how it might apply to me and to other women I know.

The idea of compulsory heterosexuality is fairly simple-- it's based on the idea that we are always presented being straight as a default and as inevitable.  And culturally, that's really true-- or at least, it has been in the past.  The end of every fairy tale is a heterosexual union, many people grew up never knowing any out queer* individuals, and it was assumed when everyone entered middle school that you had to have some sort of male heartthrob to crush on.  Some of this is changing-- there are definitely more out queer individuals and gay couples, and there exists a growing number of kid's books that lack the traditional heterosexual pairing.  It might be that the toddlers of today reach their consciousness in a world in which being straight is no longer the default assumption-- but in today's society, many people treat others as straight until proven not.

So, for someone of my age-- how much has compulsory heterosexuality affected me?  I don't think it has, all that much.  There definitely has been social pressure to be straight rather than gay-- both from family and from the peers I grew up with-- but I also grew up with social pressure not to date outside my race, and I certainly managed to do that in college.  I'm also given to a little too much introspection-- over-analyzing all my feelings, towards everyone.  Plus, I grew up with the idea that while being gay might not be socially acceptable, it certainly wasn't something bad-- yay fantasy novels?  Books were definitely my first introduction to the world of non-straightness, as they were to many other ideas and concepts.  I have dated men exclusively, and will be marrying a man.  I do not, however, feel as if I have entered into this relationship with no choice.  Instead, I have evaluated my life and my relationship choices.  I have made choices along the way regarding who to date, and I have always chosen to date men, though I have certainly not chosen to date all the men who were available to me for dating.

There's another side to the compulsory heterosexuality theory though, and that side suggests that women ought to give up relationships with men to invest more deeply in relationships with other women, including sexual relationships.  In this regard it lines up pretty well with the concept of political lesbianism.  I am pretty much the opposite of a fan of this aspect.  I find it to be completely ungenuine, and to be asking individuals to behave in a way that is unnatural for them-- just as a society that pressures everyone to act straight is asking some individuals to live in a way that is unnatural for them.  I am completely in favor of investing more in same sex friendships, but I think trying to force a sexual relationship out of a friend-bond is problematic and unfair to both partners.  Instead, I think it would be healthier if we could somehow remove the expectations of what gender someone should date, and encourage people to examine their emotional and sexual feelings on a case by case basis.

I do think that examining our views on sexuality is important.  It is important to know what shaped us, what expectations ourselves and others have had for us, and what desires we might have that we don't consciously know.  I do not think that heterosexuality is always a result of false consciousness though, and I think that both straight and non-straight sexual experiences can be equally fulfilling-- but that they are not likely to be equally fulfilling for any given individual.  Just like there is nothing wrong with not being straight, being straight ought not have any judgement associated with it.  And with a continually changing landscape, maturing individuals have a great opportunity to come to age more aware of themselves and their options than ever before.

What do you think about the idea of compulsory heterosexuality?  How have expectations shaped your romantic experiences?

*Compulsory heterosexuality, as a term, was originated by Adrienne Rich in her essay Compulsory Heterosexuality and Lesbian Existence.
*Why do I use the term queer?  Because it's a broader and more encompassing term than "gay or lesbian".  Queer includes gays, lesbians, bisexuals, pansexuals, those who are flexible, and those who feel no label fits, among others.  Queer can also include people who are genderqueer.