Sometimes I get the feeling that being either celibate or monogamous is somehow not feminist & that bugs the hell out of me. Joan or Arc was celibate after all; the whole idea of feminism, I thought, was to value your autonomy and power as a woman – and sometimes that means choosing NOT to share your sexuality and vulnerability because doing so might make you feel less than. In other words: I find it far more feminist to get myself to my 5th orgasm than to have mediocre sex with someone who can’t seem to figure out what to do with a clitoris, and I worry, when it comes to young women, that people believe you can’t be feminist if you’re not fucking anyone but yourself.
I’ve rarely liked one night stands or casual sex of whatever kind. More power to you if you do; it’s probably a lot easier to get off with someone else. The hottest sex I’ve had throughout my life is with someone I’ve got a deep simpatico with, an intense connection, and that doesn’t necessarily mean someone I can have meaningful conversation with; sometimes it’s just there, in the charge that comes every time your eyes meet.
I hate the idea of some patriarchal Christian Cult of Prudery owning celibacy; those were the guys who put Joan of Arc to death, after all. But to me there’s a huge difference between repressing your sexual desire because Your Daddy Says So (whether that Daddy is the Big Man in the Sky or your actual father) and acknowledging your desire but not necessarily doing anything with it. Being able to enjoy your sexual self even when you’re not fucking is the feminist bit – it’s about having desire, celebrating desire, your power and hotness and vulnerability. It’s that feeling of power-in-reverse, walking around with the inscrutability of Mona Lisa, imagining your own desire and someone else’s, as you run around doing your mundane errands or going to classes, that someone you might choose could help you – and them, become a sweaty, exhausted, happy mess.
That doesn’t mean sluts don’t rock. They do. Sometimes, though, you’re the only one in your life whose worth your effort.
Choosing being the keyword.
It’s that other story about Catherine the Great’s sexual predilections that always appealed to me: she had her ladies in waiting “try out” potential lovers for her so she didn’t waste her time with a dud. (& It’s my best guess that it was one of the duds who started the horse rumor.) She wouldn’t fuck just anyone. Most of us don’t have ladies in waiting to serve this useful function, however, so instead, maybe, we just choose to be picky.
I’m not sure about the having someone else test drive prospective partners. It has nothing to do with not wanting to share, and everything to do with thinking chemistry between partners plays a really important role. Okay, you could find out about really awful habits and hygiene, I guess, but beyond that one person’s perfect lover is someone else’s dud. I knew a group of women who actually set out to prove this experimentally, all four of them taking turns with a few of the same guys and comparing notes. Their experiences with the same men were so radically different that they concluded it was impossible to do any kind of objective assessment.
Wacky.
Incidentally, I love the phrase “anatomical autonomy.” You may not have used it but you certainly sent my thoughts in that direction.
I wonder if any of Catherine’s ladies in waiting found a real winner but then told Her Majesty that he was a dud so she could keep him for herself. 🙂
Wow, I must be feminist as hell then, right now. Actually I just found my Dad had intimacy with a ninety-year-old woman at his retirement facility; they were both cute as hell, too, not to diminish them because old people are ” cute”, but because they apparently had a hot thing. Whew… I have time.
This woman is disgusting. Feminism is primarily a great thing but when it comes to objectifying men who, without any proof, 100% of the time want you to make them ‘sweaty & happy’ is just as bad as an asshole guy on the street corner catcalling.
um, no one said anything about men. do you see a “he” pronoun anywhere?