virgin/whore dichotomy

I used to be a ho when I was 12. At least, that's what the boys called me.  I was always overtly sexual, and I think playing a big game of spin-the-bottle at camp provoked it. An older boy who I'd never talked to started calling me a ho as a "joke." I wrote in my diary, with hopefully intended irony: "How could I be a ho? I'm a nice Jewish girl."

Despite being a ho in middle school, I never actually did anything sexual with boys, which meant that in high school I was officially a "tease." While I talked about my vagina all the time, I didn't actually share it with others. One male friend used to call me a nun. Since it was high school, I was oblivious to the fact that nobody should be judging me or my sexuality, but hey! It was the style at the time. So many hormones rushing through my veins, but I was smart enough to not try hooking up with boys my age because they sucked. Not a bad choice, teenage me!

In college I was neither a ho nor a prude, because I was someone else's property-- I had a boyfriend. It was quite clear that sexual activity was expected and condoned in that context.

So what I am? Virgin, whore, or possession? Just being a person with sexual agency is out of the question! The virgin/whore dichotomy says that women are either whores or virgins, although it's not clear which is preferable. Virgins are valued because they are pure and innocent and if you have a penis and you stick it in, then you win. (I'm still unclear on the details.) However, virgins are so selfish, right? It's like they are there all virginal and stuff, and they like, won't even have sex with you. What gives? On the other hand, it's about the same for whores: reviled for all the dicks that have tainted the purity of their formerly-pristine vaginal cavities (although my dance teacher says vaginas are like self-cleaning ovens, so...), but valued for all the sexy sex that they can sex you up with. Perhaps you're thinking, "Well, I'm neither a virgin nor a whore; I'm an adult with a sex life that satisfies my needs and I don't think anyone needs to put a label on my complex sexuality and being." OK, but that's not how this works.

This schema is played out again and again in American culture. We have the idea of "a lady in the streets but a freak in the sheets"-- a woman who is an inoffensive virgin to the world, but a whore for you. In middle school I must have been a "freak in the sheets" because I was openly interested in sexual experiences, despite the fact that I barely had any sexual experience and was an actual virgin. In high school I was a "lady in the streets" because, while I talked a big talk, I'd (still) never really done much sexually. Then, of course, I reached the sweet spot in college, when I was sexually off limits to everyone except my partner, with whom I could let my freak flag fly. Even though I'm aware of this pattern/trap, it's hard to escape because the message is constant.

Take Usher's "I Don't Mind." He says: "If you dance on a pole, that don't make you a ho. Shawty, I don't mind if you work until 3 if you leaving with me.... you can take your clothes off, as long as you're coming home." Meaning: You can be an actual sex worker, but I will still consider you a virgin (and not a whore) as long as you're monogamous with me. I'm all about the pro-sex worker attitude here, but it's still coming from this virgin/whore perspective. Would Usher want to be in an open relationship with a sex worker, or are sex workers only acceptable partners if they're monogamous with you? Or are sex workers only OK to have sex with if you don't get attached to them, since they can never be "a lady in the streets?" The bigger questions is: can women (virgins, hos, and sex workers alike) ever have agency over their own sexuality without being labeled a virgin, a whore, or property?

In Which I Go Back in Time and Slap Myself

I've been dating.

I try to keep an open mind, but I also don't want to put up with bullshit.

It's a fine line.

One thing that I can't handle is flattery. I'm not talking about some kind of fake (or real) modesty, insecurity, or a dislike of receiving compliments. I'm talking about:

-false compliments (i.e. "You look sexy" when you just got back from the gym and your booty crack is sweating through your pants.)
-gazing (looking at a woman like she's magic, especially if she doesn't think you're magic.)
-superfluous compliments ("You're really smart" when you are actually smart, but you didn't say anything smart enough to warrant that assessment.)
-over-dramatic moments of affection or admiration (see gazing)

However, I did not always feel this way. A mere 6 years ago I wrote a blog (my second one ever- it was waiting a while to be written) about how flattery (though I didn't use that word) creates confidence, which leads to fun nakedness, essentially. It now seems like a how-to guide for douche bags.

Unfortunately, flattery no longer inspires confidence in me. It creeps me out. It makes me feel like someone is trying to manipulate me. And, doubly-unfortunately, manipulation was the #1 favorite tool of the dude who raped me. I bring that up not in a I-was-raped-and-therefore-traumatized way, but in a this-is-the-behavior-of-a-rapist way. Some guys who flattered me did not engage in any non-consensual sexual acts with me, and I was happy that someone put in the effort to make me feel attractive. Rob, on the other hand, definitely used flattery as a way to gain my trust and make me think that he respected me-- and therefore my body and my limits.

I cannot believe that at one point in my life I did not recognize flattery as manipulation. I had a lot of fun fooling around with various dudes; it was super validating of my idea of myself as sexually potent and desirable. I thought rapists would be douchey and aggressive and were probably hiding in bushes. Sometimes they are. But sometimes they are (seemingly) sweet, gentle, charming people who you know. I want to go back in time and slap myself for my naivete.

But that brings up other problems:
1) Why should I slap myself? I should go back in time and punch HIM! No victim blaming, thank you.
2) Could I handle the fact that some apparently sweet dudes are rapists when I was in my early 20's? People have been describing me as jaded and cynical since I was 7, so I wouldn't want to add more disillusionment on top of that.

This time I don't have solutions to those problems. Normally, this is the part of the post where I'd end with some (attempted) righteous, witty, or wise conclusion. I don't have one of those. There's no lesson here, just shock and mild shame at the fact that the best advice I could give to guys was to flatter women in order to get them naked.

getting raped eventually sucks less

It's been five years since I got raped, which sucked.

But it sucks less than it did then. Partially in a "time heals all wounds way," and partially in a "SUCK ON THIS, RAPE!" way.

I think about it fleetingly every day, and I wish I didn't have to deal with that. Some days I think about it a lot. I talked about the details with someone today, and it made me shake.

Rape is a lack of power, autonomy, respect, humanity.

Fuck that! Now I use rape to make me more powerful.

I reached out to other people and gained strength from their numbers. (Turns out everyone's been raped/almost raped/has a sister/friend/roommate who got raped, too.) Rape is a deeply private, personal attack-- it happens within your own body! It doesn't go this way for everyone, unfortunately, but I found tons of support all around me when I started looking. Not everyone was supportive, which cost me some friendships, but some people who weren't even close to me were solid as fuck.

I decided that I'd start looking at the issue of rape more, and that strengthened me, too. Reading about rape lead me to misogyny, rape culture, patriarchy, and a host of other ideas that helped me understand how thousands of men go from innocent infant to rapist. However, understanding did not breed sympathy! I got mad, and now I do whatever I can to punch patriarchy in its face.

Rape can make you feel isolated, but being open about it has made me see how absolutely not isolated each rape is. Shit is systematic. Gaining an understanding of rape-- even when getting raped seems to destroy everything you understood about people, your body, boundaries-- gave me the tools to speak out louder and clearer against rape, rape culture, and all the factors that contribute to it.

Besides friends and reading, yoga and dance also helped me reclaim my body and my sexuality. Yoga speaks for itself-- go to 5 classes and see what happens!

The sassy, witty, sarcastic, smart-as-fuck ladies at Jezebel.com were also a sustaining force in my recovery. They sent a clear, consistent anti-rape message in a language I could understand (sarcasm!) As crazy as it sounds, just being reminded that rape is not OK was crucial for me as I developed an understanding of the issue. It's not like I thought rape was OK beforehand, but my rapist tried to convince me that it was a misunderstanding and that I actually wanted it, and it was very convenient to believe him instead of accepting the truth! Since then I've read countless hilarious articles about the myriad ways that women have their rights, bodies, freedom, and autonomy violated-- besides rape!

Five years later things are looking good for me, and I am infinitely grateful for that. I'm lucky that I have supportive and radical friends (because apparently "rape is bad" is still a radical idea), that I had life goals and was able to take huge steps toward fulfilling them, and that I've been financially stable since then. Many women aren't as lucky. Getting raped made me significantly less emotionally stable in the short term, and it was just luck that I made it here. Many women struggle for years or the rest of their lives to gain back what they lost when they were violated. I don't have a snarky analysis of that; it's just fucking awful.

I still experience post-rape side effects. I haven't had sex since then, which may be a direct result or may just be how I am. (Funny sidenote: after two months of dating, I told a guy I was ready to have sex. I also told him that I could never be his girlfriend. He got mad and cited Martin Buber at me.) Anyway, my sense of "I could get raped" is way heightened. Males probably don't think about this much (that's what male privilege is all about), but I know all the ladies know what I'm talking about. Just being alone in a room with a guy sets off a little alarm deep in my brain. I don't let it control me, but it's there. Looking into the nitty-gritty of rape culture has led me to some pretty ugly things: appalling statistics, revenge porn (exists!), how men silence, oppress, and --wait for it-- rape women on the daily in every conceivable situation-- business, the Internet, literature, on the bus, etc. Some things are triggering for me. That means that otherwise innocuous things (whether relating to rape or not) will cause my brain to flood with cortisol, putting me on edge. At this point those things are fairly predictable, but sometimes they change.

I feel good about where I've come since then. But I'll always (as far as I can tell. Will keep you posted.) carry around a little of the baggage, fear, and cynicism. I'm doing what I can to turn all that rage (because women are allowed to feel rage, btw) into righteous anger, strength, power, and peace. (Stay tuned for the next blog: How to balance righteous anger and peace.)

Lemme holler at you!

I was eleven years old the first time I remember a male making me feel uncomfortable about being female. I used to wait at the bus stop at Gilman and San Pablo, and I remember a white pickup truck with three men in the cab stopped at a red light, and they all looked at me. They could probably see my skinny little girl legs because it was summer and I was wearing shorts. I remember putting on my toughest don't-fuck-with-me face. Sorry that I haven't been keeping track since then, but I'd like to start now. When men stare at you, yell at you, manage to "bump" into you even when there's plenty of room, strike up a conversation with you when you're reading and have ear phones in and clearly don't want to have a conversation, ask for your number, comment on your appearance, or suggest sexual escapades they'd like to pursue with you, they're letting you (and everyone else) know that men are allowed to think and say whatever they want about your body, and there's nothing you can do about it. At the end of the day, most of us lady-folk understand that responding to harassment almost always increases it. Better to be yelled at than groped; better to be groped than raped. Rape and rape culture is at the heart of harassment. There have been many times over the past 15 or so years since I've hit puberty (and even a few before then) when I wondered if I was about to get raped. I have the feeling that no matter how drunk, obnoxious, or aggressive I've been, no one has ever felt that their bodily integrity was threatened. But you know, all this talk about rape culture is such a downer. Let's just get to the good stuff.

Who: Some Dude In The Passenger Seat Of A Car
When: Saturday, January 19, 2013 9:30 pm
Where: Telegraph and 19th St, Downtown Oakland
What: While walking to a concert down a highly populated Telegraph Avenue, Some Dude In The Passenger Seat Of A Car yells at me: "Yo, lemme get yo purse! Lemme get yo purse! Hey, lemme get yo purse!" People pack heat in Oakland, so I figured this was not an appropriate time to talk back. I looked straight ahead and kept walking, to which Some Dude In The Passenger Seat Of A Car concluded: "Bitch."

Who: Tall, Dark Stranger At The Fox Theater Bar
When: Sunday, January 19, 2013 12:30 am
Where: Telegraph and 19th St, Downtown Oakland (but on the other side of the street this time)
What: After a concert, Lynn and I decided it would be better for both of us to walk to her car, and she could drive me to my car. No, I'm not some lazy girl with impractical heels on, we just didn't want to get raped. And when I say we decided, I mean we didn't even talk about it, we had already talked about where we had parked, so we just walked out together to the closer car. So we walk by the Fox Theater bar, and a Tall, Dark Stranger starts walking toward us saying "hey" aggressively, as if we left our lights on and he wants to tell us, or if we'd just told his mother to suck a bag of dicks, or if he saw two very petite ladies and thought that he'd be able to get some kind of sexual satisfaction out of at least one of them because they're probably too meek to say no. We both ignored him and kept walking. We both had pepper spray in our hands. Lynn suggested that only women should be allowed to own and carry guns.

Rape Jokes

The other day I was watching some show on TV. This show had two hosts, a man and a woman, and they had on two “social commentators,” i.e. people who talk on the Internet. They were discussing a joke that the comedian Daniel Tosh had made. Tosh joked that his girlfriend was mad because he’d replaced her pepper spray with silly string, and then “she got raped so bad.” Cue laughter. A woman in the audience heckled him and said “Actually, rape jokes are never funny!” Someone can’t take a joke, amIright?! Tosh said: “Wouldn’t it be funny if that girl got raped by like, 5 guys right now? Like right now? What if a bunch of guys just raped her…” So the heckler and her friend left. They were there to see Dane Cook and didn’t know who Daniel Tosh was.

 In case you missed the Internet-chatter about this joke, let me briefly explain why it was so bad. It’s not just a joke against a minority group (women), it’s someone who holds power in the majority making a joke about how powerless the minority is. I’ve offended my fair share of people with my “humor,” and I felt super embarrassed when they called me out on it. I was aware that I was broaching a powerful subject, and it didn’t feel good to have it pointed out that I was doing it wrong. But I am especially listening when I make those potentially offensive jokes, so that next time I’ll have a better idea of what jokes will actually be funny and which will make me sound like a bigoted asshole.

 Yes, Tosh made two rape jokes, one being hella oppressive, the other being possibly amusing. But it gets worse. Let me tell you what the talk show hosts and their guests concluded: 1. If we start saying topics are off-limits to comedians, we might as well go back to Stalinist Russia. 2. If you get offended by rape jokes, you can just leave, and 3. You have no sense of humor, you angry feminist (probably)lesbian with hairy armpits.

So let’s review:

 Comedian makes a shitty joke.

 When legitimately called out, comedian reaffirms the misogyny behind his joke when he suggests that several people in the room rape another person in the room.

The TV says the comedian was in the right. Or possibly that he shouldn’t have said that, but that it’s not as bad as voicing anti-rape (joke) sentiments.

Not only does this show send the message that rape is kinda funny and everyone should think so, but also that if you say that (joking about) rape is not OK, you are seriously lame.

I’m not going to make a blanket statement condemning rape jokes. Humor is a powerful tool, and if that’s what’s going to work to get your ANTI-RAPE message across, then it’s an acceptable topic. What I am going to do is condemn the rape discourse in this country. The rape discourse says that when you get raped, you did something to bring it on yourself, and please shut up about it because we really don’t want to hear you complain. Also, are you sure? You probably wanted it and then changed your mind, you lying slut. Gotta watch out for broads like that. Did you know nearly 1 in 6 men get falsely accused of rape? It’s terrible. Wait… what was that? Oh! Sorry. It’s actually 1 in 6 women get real-life raped. 1 in 33 guys get raped, too. That’s right, there’s a 3% chance your dad got raped, and a 17% chance your mom got raped. And a 17% chance your girlfriend got or will get raped. And if you have 6 female friends on Facebook, it is statistically extremely likely that one of them has been, or will be!, raped. And you’re in there, too, don’t worry! Even if you think rape doesn’t have anything to do with you, there is a 3-17% chance it’ll happen to you yet. Downer :(

But what’s the problem with comedians making offensive jokes? It’s the power dynamic. Rape victims making rape jokes: possibly funny. Women making rape jokes: possibly funny. Men making rape jokes: probably not funny.

I think Tosh’s original joke about the silly string was a funny idea. What isn’t funny is being a man (i.e. potential rapist) and saying that. What isn’t funny is the fact that your audience is predominantly (or at least 50%) male. What isn’t funny is being one woman in a sea of men who think it’s funny to rape you. It is of the utmost importance that men stop accepting rape. Are minorities supposed to avoid getting discriminated against? No, the majority has to stop being racist dicks. Women are always told ways to “avoid getting raped.“ But it is men who need to stand up and not allow this kind of evil behavior from their own kind.

 Rape jokes aren’t the problem. There are many ways to joke about rape that express how bad it is, not how amusing and acceptable it is. The problem is men who publicly laugh at and suggest rape as an appropriate response to anything ever. The problem is the public discourse that excuses male chauvinism and silences women who speak up. That is exactly what creates a culture in which rape is allowed.

crotch = brain

(warning: This blog involves massive generalizations about men and women. Your friends who do not fit into this are the exceptions that prove the rule.)

I've been putting a lot of thought into thinking about thinking. It's hella metacognitive. Because sometimes boys do things that make me think they are retarded. But not all boys could be retarded, right? ...Right?? Right. So here is my theory: in a nutshell (if you will), boys think like penises, and girls think like vaginas. (I would like to add here that Firefox has corrected "vaginas" to be "vaginae," which would be correct if we were speaking Latin. And in Latin that would be pronounced like wa-gee-nye. But I digress.)

So let's start with boys. They are more straightforward, literally. See, when they are aroused, when they want to mate with something, their penises stick straight out, alerting them that something needs fertilization. There is no middle ground. They know if they're gay because men make them have boners, they know if they like Japanese cartoon porn because they have boners, and we know when they like you, again, because of the boners. If they really like something, they get more of a boner. If they don't like something, well they just don't have a boner at all. And when you've climaxed, well there it is. Then your penis takes a nap. It's good to use your penis.

And for males, this makes the world fairly simple. Either something is boner-inducing or it is not. Boys don't get stuck doing things they actually don't want to do at all, boys aren't concerned that if they do certain things that someone else will be mad at them, and they definitely don't think that any sane person would do such things as aforementioned.

For girls, things are much different. The vagina is hidden. I had a friend who didn't know it was there until she was 13. It's very existence is hidden, as well as its function. We want to put things in it, but we're told not to. Do not use your vagina! But if you're thinking about using your vagina, no one can tell you what to expect. Sometimes your panties get wet when you're doing your math homework. But then when you're actually making out with someone you're just waiting for it to end. But let's be clear: not being aroused by men doesn't mean your a lesbian; neither does being aroused by lesbian porn. See, we ladies can do that. And how do you know when you've climaxed? Well, you just KNOW. Some girls THINK they've had orgasms. Most of them haven't. Isn't that weird? If you'd like to climax and you're not, you can just fake it! Now no one knows if you're not satisfied, sometimes not even you.

So you see, this is all very complicated. Arousal doesn't always mean you like something, nor does lack of arousal mean the contrary. And what exactly is getting aroused? How can a hole- a lack of matter- indicate arousal? And what about that clit thing that no one can find? How does THAT work? And do some girls like anal sex? Ohmigawd ew don't talk about that! Orgasms may be happening or they may not, we're not really sure. All of these questions mean that girl-thinking is not as direct as boys'. Girls sometimes go along with things they don't enjoy because they want the other person to like them. And other times girls worry about what people will think if they do certain things, like go out with another group of friends, or ask someone to please do the dishes more often. A girl's thoughts are hidden, and her motivations are varied and often indescribable.

There is nothing inherently wrong with thinking like a penis or a vagina. It's when you combine the two that problems arise. Boys don't understand girls because they don't realize that the girls are thinking like vaginas, and not like penises at all. Things are very complicated in a girl's head. She factors in things that boys don't even touch on. That's why boys always seem retarded, because the girl is four steps ahead of him, and she doesn't get why he's not there. But, ladies, you must remember that boys think like penises. Things are very simple for them, and you mustn't provide them with too much information at one time.

Now that we've cleared all this up, is there a practical application for it? No. Not really. Boys will still think like boys, and will still do stupid boy stuff like not say anything even though you dressed up all nice for him, and "fall asleep" when they were supposed to call. And they won't understand why you're upset. But then because they guy doesn't know why she's upset, the girl feels invalidated and begins to think she's really not upset. But then three days later you don't text her back fast enough and BAM she's screaming at you! So girls will still get upset when guys pull that shit, and guys, you will still be annoyed at them for it. It's a vicious cycle. Maybe if girls tried to be more direct in their communication and boys tried to be more receptive to what girls try to communicate, the world would be a better place. Or at least people would fight less and have sex more. That's cool, too.

How to make any girl the hottest girl in the world

Girls are always looking for ways to please guys. There is a billion-dollar market for magazines that cater to women, telling them how to dress, what to eat, and what sex moves to use. Somehow, the millions of women who read these magazines don’t seem happier, healthier, or sexier. Definitely not sexier.

Women often think that if they wear the right clothes, make up, or hairstyle, men will be interested in them. The truth is, men don’t give a fuck. Ugly girls get laid all the time. Slutty girls get turned down all the time. There is one thing- yes, ONE thing- which guys are into more than anything else: confidence.

A confident woman is sure of herself. She doesn’t have body issues. She isn’t shy. She knows how to dish it out, and she knows how to take it. She doesn’t have any hang-ups. This is supremely attractive to males.

How can women attain this magic attribute? Truly confident women are hard to come by. There is no way I can tell women how to be confident, except that they need to get over their shit and love themselves. I’m not talking about cockiness or self-centeredness—I mean real confidence. One way of doing this is just to fake it until you believe it. That’s basically what I did, and it worked for my friend, too. Just pretend you like yourself—if you’re doing a good job, people will believe you. And then people think you are cool enough to be confident, and that’s a pretty good reason to be actually confident.

And men, how can you make women confident, so that they will be down to take off their clothes and get freaky without you having to coax them into everything? Compliments. Real ones. Be delighted. Be so into her. Probably the most important part: smile at her. But don’t be creepy about it. Pretend that the girl you just took home from the bar is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, and you can’t help but marvel at each thing you discover about her. C-section scar? It’s cute. She didn’t shave her legs? You don’t give a fuck. Touch ‘em anyway. She’s covering up her boobs? Look at them, pause to admire, and say they’re beautiful. These types of things will make a woman think you really dig her, and she will be less nervous about "giving it up". If you’re admiring her and smiling at her, she will feel beautiful, which will make her act beautiful, and beautiful women aren’t shy and insecure, and then she will be all over your cock. It’s that simple!

Based on my own experience, boys pay way more attention to you when you're confident, even if you're dressed like a crackhead and skipping in circles around the mosh pit. Additionally, even with guys who didn't last long in my life, the best ones were the ones who seemed to really enjoy and appreciate me, even if later actions proved that they didn't care for me that much.

So what’s the point of this? Basically, confidence helps everything. It doesn’t matter if the guy is faking amazement or not. The fact is that when he acts amazed, it boosts your confidence through the roof and crushes whatever hang-ups you have about your body, or about fooling around in the backseat of you mom's station-wagon. Men: be amazed at the woman you’re with, but don't be creepy. If you’re doing a good job, she’ll believe you. Women: stop being such whiny babies. When you start loving yourself, the right kind of men will start loving you. More importantly, you won’t even need their love, because you are a confident, self-assured woman.

2014 EDIT: This is one of the worst things I've ever written, and I explain why here.