Posts Tagged ‘sexuality’

  1. A teen’s take on feminism and why we need it RIGHT NOW

    March 8, 2013 by @NotRollergirl

    Sophia Valentine is a talented 17 year old writer. She has recently discovered the power of feminism after realising that female sexuality is often expressed and discussed in a highly sexist way. Here are her views on what it’s like to grow up in an overly sexualised society.

    Image from www.thecollegefix.com

    Image from www.thecollegefix.com

    As a teenage girl growing up in Britain in 2013, it can be nearly impossible to negotiate the issue of sex. Under constant pressure from the media, society and your peers, the mixed messages you receive can seem overwhelming.

    Recently, my mother announced that sexting was “shocking. [It’s] so detrimental, and children are being sexualised so young” And yet, to many teenagers, there is no line between texting and sexting. It’s simply becoming the norm. Most of my friends have experienced sexting in some form or another, and I’ve seen the persistence of teenage boys who want a “photo” – many of them are willing to nag incessantly until they get what they want, or try to guilt trip my friends. They don’t understand the meaning of the word “no.” Our parents are the generation who grew up with Playboy at the extreme end of the scale – now any child with a smartphone can watch pornography with relative ease. And what is the effect of this? Too often, porn is seen as creating over-expectant adolescent boys, who expect all women to be as willing for sex as the porn stars they see.

    John Bishop has joked about using porn to instruct his son, claiming he told him: “Actually son, they’re not usually that up for it.” But what about the effect of porn on women? Teenage girls see porn stars behaving in a certain way and feel they must mimic it. We are not objects, to be used and discarded. For me, the idea that a partner’s expectations of me are determined by pornography is ridiculous – real women have feelings and needs, they are not here simply to satisfy but also expect to BE satisfied. And what about when a woman doesn’t meet a man’s sexual expectations?

    Rape. The idea that someone will not respect my wishes is terrifying. The idea that someone would deliberately ignore my request to stop, especially in a situation as intimate as sex, is frightening. When I say no, I mean no: it is not a request, it is a command. It means stop. Being aware that almost 80 per cent of rape victims knew their attacker makes me fearful about future relationships. And where are these rapists and prospective rapists learning to behave this way? It can only be because they see women as objects, and they have been taught to prioritise their sexual urges over anything else.

    Which situation is “better”, in the eyes of society: sexual assault by an unknown attacker, or by a partner? Is either “better” at all? When I put the question to my friends, they agreed that often, sexual assault by a partner could be perceived as “worse”: each day you must face the person who hurt you, and something previously intimate is now threatening and negative. For me, while I recognise that rape by an unknown attacker may lead to mistrust of strangers, rape by a partner causes something far more severe – mistrust of the ones you love. You cannot recover without the support of those you trust – and yet you cannot trust them either. 85% of rapes go unreported, and often sexual assault by a partner is dismissed by the victim, who may begin to blame themselves. Anyone on the outside of an abusive relationship might wonder why the abused doesn’t leave – but more often than not, the abuse itself has left them without the strength, space and spirit to be able to walk away.

    The term “rape” has become an almost empty threat. Often, it is made to seem like an unavoidable destination: “if you dress like a slut, you’ll get raped.” To me, this use of a serious criminal act with severe repercussions as an inevitable concept is shocking. Whilst teenager drivers are often warned not to drink and drive, they are not told “if you drive under the influence, you WILL die.” With all other crimes, there is a degree of possibility indicated in the warning. You might be attacked. It may have serious consequences. With rape, there is no indication of doubt indicated in the language surrounding it – women are taught it will happen.

    For my generation, what hope is there? Adults condemn our actions, yet they are the result of a society that is constantly finding new ways to exploit young people. Too often, teenagers feel suffocated by societal pressures. For many teenage girls, feminism is an unknown concept, a “dirty word.” As a friend stated, feminism is often drummed out of us by society or overexposure, until it becomes part of the background, hidden at the back of the social consciousness.

    Teenagers, especially young women, need to know that sexism and sexual violence is never OK – and that if they speak out against it, they will be encouraged and supported. We look to so many different sources of information in order to find out how to behave. Will women’s magazines tell us how to get a boyfriend? Will porn tell us how to make him happy? But feminism needs to infiltrate and frame every fact we get given, otherwise it’s irrelevant and dangerous. Finding feminism has filled me with hope for the future. It needs to infiltrate the mainstream so that other teens use it as a source of ideas, answers and comfort.

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  2. Sex Education; is it really working?

    August 21, 2012 by Jenni

    Image from communiststudents.org.uk of all places

    For a while I have wondered why if the sex education system in the UK is relatively good (compared to some) we have so many  teenage pregnancies. I’ve always assumed that these kids just haven’t bothered to use any form of protection, rather than simply not knowing enough about it to help.
    Personally, I’ve never felt inadequately prepared after sex education. Perhaps this is because I was a bit of a geek and liked to actually listen to authority figures when they spoke, perhaps it’s because I started thinking about it from a youngish age or perhaps it’s because I had the helpful insights  of  The Period Book’ to introduce me to puberty and all its joys.

    Memories of my sex-ed experience include when we got to chapter 7 (Reproduction!) in the science textbooks we were allowed to move from our boy-girl seating plan and sit where-ever we liked(!) which I’m sure was more interesting than the anatomy of a penis/vagina. I remember the school nurse telling us about how the ‘clinic in town did some lovely passion-fruit flavoured condoms’ and everyone  thinking “EWEWEWEWEW!” at the thought of our slightly overweight middle-aged nurse STILL HAVING SEX. I have a horribly accurate memory of being in college studying reproduction/fertility and having to watch that video where someone thought it would be a good idea to put a camera on some poor woman’s cervix and film her being ejaculated into by, what was at the time, a giant wide-screen penis. This definitely just felt like far too much information. Especially when it also went on to show the same woman giving birth in graphic detail too. I feel so sorry for that kid-teenagers across the country have watched their conception/birth whilst squirming in their seats and trying not to look.

    However, I digress. The sex-ed I got at school certainly gave me enough information to choose what I would like to happen to my own body when I needed contraception myself. I knew the different choices and that some suited other people better than others and, possibly more importantly, that I would never feel safe having sex with only a condom between me and an unwanted pregnancy. Now, of course, I am a lot more clued up, but I did OK then too.

    Having talked to friends and read a couple of blogs on the subject (over at the Vagenda) it seems that this is not the case with everyone. Friends who went to more religious schools than mine were basically taught not to have sex rather than how to protect themselves. Another friend said “If you hadn’t got pregnant by year 8/9 in my school you were in the minority.” This is clearly a MASSIVE FAILING. (And more worryingly still is-1 in 4 pupils apparently still receive little to no sex ed at all.The way people view it also needs to be changed-it’s not stripping kids of their innocence and it’s not more likely to make them go out and start having sex with everything.  Even if it does, they would do so armed with greater knowledge about contraception and keeping themselves safe, how can this be a bad thing?

    Kids need an open and frank discussion about sex because they’re so curious and there’s not a lot of places they can get answers from that aren’t going to potentially do them harm. Kids need to be taught more than just the ins and outs of sex too. They need to be taught that straight, gay, bisexual and transgendered people are all normal, plus all the other inbetweens. They need to know that there is a whole spectrum of relationships they can have and that not all of them boil down to which part goes in who and where. They need to be encouraged to explore the emotions surrounding sex-they need to be told that sex and love often get tangled up in complicated ways (and that’s fine!) but that sex doesn’t always equal love.

    They need to be shown that it’s not about gaining notches in the bedpost but a shared experience between two consenting people that they should only enter into when their emotions are ready as well as their bodies. They need to be told that wanking won’t make you go blind and yes, girls can get in on the action too. The need to know that they shouldn’t have a baby without being emotionally, financially and physically ready for it, and that if they’re not any of those things they should be given advice on abortion and why it doesn’t make you a murderer or any less of a person if that’s your decision. They should be told that if you choose to sleep with lots of people it doesn’t make you a “slag” or a “stud” and that everyone’s sexual experiences are different and that is definitely OK. And they should be given details on all types of contraception as a mandatory thing. These kids can be in charge of their own futures but only if they’re given all the information to begin with.

    It’s obvious kids need more information to get a proper handle on the big issues of SEX AND RELATIONSHIPS and it’s obvious that not many people who are in charge seem to care about this. Television shows like Channel 4′s The Sex Education Show have been trying to make people more aware about these issues and it’s a start, albeit a slow one. I’ve signed this petition because I think every little bit helps.

    Let’s encourage our kids to grow up to enjoy sex, but enjoy it responsibly with a full grasp of all the things they need to know about it first.

    It’s time to stand up for Sex Education, who’s with me?

    Jenni (@circlethinker) is a science geek, a theatre aficionado (both on and off the stage), and a big fan of socks. She’s in her early twenties and recently finished up a Biomedical Science degree at Sheffield. Jenni has a lovely blog over here (where this post first appeared) and you can find her on Twitter right here


  3. Bye, sexuality!

    August 3, 2012 by JenClaude

    Image from iberalpugilist.com

    ‘Hello, I am a bisexual woman.’

    Amount of years I have known this to be a truth: many.

    Amount of times, to my knowledge, I have used this sentence out loud: zero.

    When asked if I am gay/straight/pan/bisexual/any other category that exists on the sexual spectrum, I tend to just say ‘yes’ in the hope that I will not be greeted with a look of consternation and we can get back to the real topic of conversation (cake, vodka, ginger kittens) with as much haste as possible. Sexuality is an uncomfortable place for me, and this is why.

    Even now, in the supposedly sexually liberated 21st century western world, biphobia is huge, and it is not going away. We are faced with an onslaught of intolerance not only from the heterosexual world, but in an intra-group manner, from the LGBTQ community itself. This has been highlighted by this awful article by the self-confessed ‘lesbian feminist’ Julie Bindel. The very fact that something so one-sided and intolerant made its way into the public domain utterly baffles me, but it did, and it hit me. Hard.

    The sexual spectrum is just that, a spectrum. It is not binary, it is huge, it is diverse and it is downright bloody beautiful.

    Knowing that one is definitely gay is as difficult as knowing one is definitely straight. The idea that sexuality is so clearly black and white is unfathomable. I once overheard a girlfriend of mine saying ‘I could never be a lesbian, vaginas make me queasy’ – this is the kind of clarity that I, and I imagine many bisexual people alike, yearn for. But, I’m sorry Julie Bindel, it is just not that simple. You may think you have made an active choice to be a lesbian (the flaws in this argument are endless, hormone levels and finger ratios lay science against you…) but you do not represent the rest of the LGBTQ society, and you certainly do not represent me. I am my own person, and I refuse to be put down by your jaded, cynical approach to the world as a whole. I can’t help but be the one to point out that your arguments against the ‘tyranny of sexism’ make you nothing but a tyrant yourself.

    Yes, for some people bisexuality is an understandable gateway into ‘full homosexuality’. A stepping-stone, if you like, in a similar fashion to drinking 1% milk when trying to wean yourself off dairy products (failed vegan, if you couldn’t tell). Coming out is a hard process, and sometimes a buffer does make it a little easier. I would never begrudge a person this. At the same time, it does not make it a truth for us all.

    Sexualities are different, but they are equal and they stem from the exact same principles. People are gay because they like people of the same sex, people are straight because they like people of the opposite sex, I like to think I am bisexual because I like people without regard to their sex.

    There is no hierarchy, there is no better sexuality and I am very willing to dismiss Julie Bindel’s allegations as fallacies.

    I don’t like men and women because it’s ‘à la mode’ or because I’m a ‘lesbian tourist’ or simply to get attention from both ends of the spectrum, and I sure as hell don’t do it to maximise my chances of a cheeky late-night fumble. I have been nothing but hindered by my sexuality in that sense – people generally don’t like maximised competition, I guess it’s primitive. It is no more likely that bisexual people will have sex with more people in their lifetime than people of any other sexuality. It doesn’t even necessarily mean they have a bigger pool of fish to choose from. It just means that all their partners won’t have the same junk in their trunk. Ends.

    Now, in contrast to my sexuality, I am both extremely firm and open about my politics, and about being a feminist. A big one. One that will go to great lengths to fight symbols of patriarchal repression.  That does not, however, include actively re-thinking my sexuality – something I never chose to be and could not change if I tried. I am certain that I would be bisexual whatever my political leanings were, and the notion that my sexuality, something entirely pre-programmed within me, de-legitimises my politics is just absurd.

    I’ll admit, there remain to be many things that are uncertain about my sexuality but this is not one of them – I am not bisexual to try and placate anyone, least of all The Man. I don’t have sex with men to psychologically ease the burden of my fondness for women, nor to satisfy any external heteronormative pressures. Yes, such pressures exists and are heavily laden upon us all, but I’ve never been one to do something Because I Should and this matter is no different.

    We are supposed to be at the helm of the equal rights movement, setting an example for the next generation of both straight and LGBTQ young people. We should be showing them that EVERYONE is the same, no matter who they choose to love, and that everyone should be treated equally. Yet this is a movement that is still clearly riddled with anti-equalist, seperatist views and weakened by the internal hierarchy that serves only to perpetuate the us vs. them mentality of the straight vs. queer communities.

    The idea that people are bisexual because they are ‘bowing down to the patriarchy’ does nothing but undermine an entire group of people in society, and is just as corrupt and offensive as the misogyny it is trying to fight.

    Please, let’s all stop all this fighting and factionalism. The only way we’re going to battle sexual and gender inequality is together.

    @JenClaude is lovely. She’s a student (future doctor), writer, and orchid enthusiast. You can find her excellent blog at jenclaude.wordpress.com and you can follow Jen on Twitter.

     


  4. Chicks with sticks and glasses; does ‘disabled’ mean undateable?

    June 20, 2012 by Thimbelina

    Image from someecards, via eyeofthe-needle.tumblr.com

    As I alluded to the last time I blogged for Team AWOT, I’m currently a single gal. My last relationship ended two years ago, almost to the day. Time heals all wounds, it’s true, and I confess that the idea of sharing my life with someone once more has a certain appeal.

    (I have not been ‘anti-men’ or anti-a-relationship in the intervening period; it’s just that I’ve taken the dreary, faux-noble, insufferable step of wanting to work on myself, regain myself, first before relaunching fully into The Fray…)

    Even when I was twenty, clubs, pubs, bars and night-clubs were never my thing; now I’m twice that age they hold even less of an appeal.

    Add to that, I now have a chronic health condition (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, or ME, if you’re curious), which means I use a walking stick and, for distances beyond the minimum (which I’m unable to walk), a wheelchair. So, forget dancing round my handbag, dancing around my walking stick, more like; the ultimate in low-rent pole-dancing.  Huzzah.

    So, on the face of it, online dating is the perfect way for the somewhat-less-than-entirely-mobile to meet future partners. No awkward moments while I laugh off my walking stick; no worry that a guy will feel intrinsically repelled by the slowness of my gait, or being hit on by someone ‘disabled’.

    With the written word I can entertain, enthrall and explain; my dating profiles are part pirouette, part pyrotechnic – a feast of verbal fun and fancy. Even the part where I explain the (God’s-damn, natty) walking stick.

    So how many dates have I gone on, since I tentatively uploaded my profiles (and by ‘date’, am I allowed to include ‘had a brief coffee with’)?

    Even with a generous interpretation of the term by anyone’s standards, I’m struggling to count more than three; and even they were more about ‘meeting a new potential friend’ than ‘golly gee, this fella has the very whiff of romance about him’…

    This isn’t to say that my profiles haven’t drawn interest – on a couple of sites an embarrassing avalanche of interest was experienced (almost entirely communicated by incoherent, hormonally-driven text-speak), but it was rapidly clear that the guys were responding to my photograph; to the promise of tits, not wits.

    (My photos are fastidiously demure and covered-up, I hasten to add…)

    My experiences tend to be keyboard bound, and nary shift into the real world. Guys suggest meeting up and ‘walking up from the river’ without reading my profile – as soon as I explain my limited walking radius, silence. I exchange messages, they say they’ve read The Spoon Theory link I give; yet expect me to drive over an hour to meet them. They say it doesn’t matter, and then are unable to meet. Or disappear. Or both.

    (Mostly both.)

    I have learnt, the hard way, to ensure any Instant Messenger facility is switched off; the moment I joined one site, the first message I received was, ‘Can I ask you a question? How does CFS affect your sex life?’

    (Oddly, I declined his invitation to explain…)

    So; what is a girl to do? Worse than that: an allegedly grown woman?

    I venture out on my own to live music events and am sat next to tedious, grey-haired men by the host in the hope (it would appear) that we ‘hit it off’ (and if we don’t, the host offers to help me ‘get laid’ the next time I visit; seriously, is there a social convention in place for handling such a conversation??)

    I flirt with folks via the power of social media, but flirtation is merely the currency on which such entities exist.

    I join forums and create relationships with others who are somewhat similar, and thus have their own particular barriers to meeting up.

    I smile and talk to guys when I stop off at a coffee shop, but I hardly think many male fantasies revolve around the idea of a woman on a Shopmobility scooter.

    (Sidebar; are the disabled and chronically ill automatically desexualised?  I still consider myself  ’recovering from and only temporarily disabled by chronic illness’ rather than plain ‘disabled’, but is it in the eye of the potential beholder?  Should I be looking to a specialist dating agency, as covered by the now defunct Filament Magazine here?)

    I know it must be possible. I know lots of people with chronic health conditions, with disability, with far greater challenges than I possess; they are married, in relationships, in love.

    But as the lyrics of the old song have it: “They’re writing songs of love .. but not for me…” ..  and part of me is starting to wonder, with a certain self-protective grace, if they ever will be.  Regardless of how strongly I may still appreciate myself.

    Peace out.

    Thimbelina  blogs here, a site which was conceived to house her occasional thoughts about sewing and CFS/ME, but which has subsequently collapsed into the incoherent chaos about life, love and relationships that it is today.  She also hands out hugs and cups of tea to complete strangers via Twitter here, as restraining orders have yet to be invented for the Virtual World she almost entirely inhabits.


  5. In which I consider sex

    May 21, 2012 by Ashley

    Screengrab from Blokely.com

    A couple of days ago, I read a piece on Blokely* (a man-website which I am quite fond of), which left me feeling a little cold. ‘I can teach you how to get a woman into bed’ tells the story of Kezia Noble, a 28-year-old pick up artist (PUA), whose career is based around teaching men how to “have one night stands, bed strippers and blag threesomes”.

    The phrasing is deliberately provocative – it begs you to jump up on a feminist soapbox and decry misogyny. Indeed the first line of the piece is “many women may hate the fact I teach men the tricks of getting women into bed but I don’t care”. Oh, sweetie.

    She claims to be the only female PUA, a fact which she emphasises through her constant reiteration that women hate what she does. She’s inviting angry blogs from women. She wants the publicity for her business. Anyone will read a headline if it contains something juicy. It’s horribly deliberate. But I also imagine her own insecurities play a role in this over-confident peacocking – the constant reminder that she is the cool, edgy, sexy girl that will get you laid. By the time she brags that her book, 15 Steps to Becoming a Master Seducer (*snorts*) has been quoted as being “The book women do not want men to read and I know women will hate,” her whole act is just starting to feel… desperate.

    But the funny thing is, I don’t hate Kezia for what she does for a living. I don’t care that she teaches men how to approach women. Let’s face it, some men (and indeed some women) really do need the help – even if it’s just to boost their confidence. I am not a prude – sex is great fun, whether it’s a fleeting one night stand, that amazing few weeks when you’ve just started seeing someone new, or with someone you’ve been married to for 20 years. I am definitely pro sex. And hey, if you want to go out and shag someone new every night of the week, that’s your prerogative. I will toast to your multiple orgasms and mad sexual adventures with gusto.

    The thing that irritated me is that she’s put women in a box. Not only does she earmark strippers as a particular sexual target (more on that later), she seems to think that the key to getting women into bed is to trick them into it. The ‘push/pull’ method of being nice and then cold to a woman apparently has a very high success rate. She knows this because her sulky ex-boyfriend made her really horny with his moodiness. “If my ex tried it on and I said I wasn’t in the mood, instead of trying to convince me, he would freeze me out and just turn on the TV. I suddenly felt rejected and not sexy enough to keep him interested. Before I knew it I was climbing all over him, desperate to prove to him that I was hot and horny!” What a brilliant message.

    I’m sure in this instance it was all very playful, and that the anecdote is something that shouldn’t be read into, but she finishes the story with this: “If a woman feels rejected, she’ll try her hardest to prove herself – and in this case, she’s very likely to jump into bed with the man in question.” The treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen routine is one of the oldest tricks in the book, but when taught as an actual step, it just seems a little… sinister. It’s essential that you jeopardise her self-esteem so she has to prove her self-worth by sleeping with you! Bravo, chaps. Tally ho!

    Back to the stripper thing. There’s a whole paragraph about bedding strippers. Strippers, it seems, are not women. Not really. They are literally stripped of all other characteristics and are defined solely by their sexual characteristics. They are not mothers, or daughters, or sisters, or wives (more of this in our super  blog from earlier this year). Stripping has reduced them to a state of walking sex – the available yet unavailable conquest. So naturally, Kezia suggests “heightening their insecurities”. That way, you can “go home with the stripper of your choice”. Oh em gee. Who knew it was that simple! Had I known that, I would have picked up two strippers last week with my Tesco shop! I’ve known some strippers in my time, and most of them would eat you alive. Their business is horny men – do you really think the cheap backhand compliment is going to get you laid? Oh, Kezia. I almost want to hug you.

    And the funniest thing of all is that sex is so much better than she makes out. She talks about getting laid and having one night stands, but she doesn’t seem to really get it. Through all her rules and tricks, she implies that women don’t actually want to have sex. They must be cajoled and persuaded and manipulated. God forbid a woman might actually want to get laid. Woman has no agenda – she is a passive barfly, waiting for you to insult her into bed with you.

    Part of the fun of sex (in my opinion, anyway) is that there are no rules. We are all as weird as each other. Every single one of us has sexual hang ups, fantasies, fetishes, and skeletons under the bed (perhaps literally, if that’s what you’re into). Kezia reduces sex into a quick and dirty night with a stranger you’ve manipulated into bed. Is the woman who is sleeping with you to prove she’s sexy going to be the best shag of your life? Probably not. Is the stripper you’ve miraculously taken home going to rock your world? Not if she’s been straddling 15 other desperate wankers that night. Nope, sex should be a LOT more organic than that. It’s supposed to be fun. You can’t create that sort of spontaneity through a set of rules. And if you’re looking for something more long-term, you probably aren’t going to be creating solid foundations if you’ve had to make her cry first.

    So, Kezia, I salute you. You are a lady pioneer in the field of pick up artistry. It is always good to see a woman making her way in a male-dominated environment. And good for you for running a successful business. But please keep your douchebag puppets out of my knickers. I don’t have anything to prove.

    Ashley is the editor of teamawot.com and thus is not used to writing her own bylines. As well as working in communications, Ashley runs a little food blog, called Peach Trees and Bumblebees. You can also find her other, oft-neglected blog here, where she muses on issues ranging from Nectar cards to wanking. Usually not in the same post. She’s also on Twitter

    * Dear Blokely, I still love you guys. This post has nothing against you. xx


  6. An X.Y. view on S.E.X.

    May 3, 2012 by Mr_Fitzgerald

    Image from ndtv.com

    For context, I wrote a shorter version of the below in response to this (worth a read, as well as the rest of her stuff).

    -

    There are few more gender-divisive topics than that of The Old In-Out. I therefore write the following fully aware of the risk I may be taking – of opening myself up to the wrath of any women scorned.

    So in order to keep the AWOT wolves from the door, I’ll earn my right to comment on this topic. At the ripe (don’t-you-dare-say-it) age of 26, I have experienced nigh-on every point along the ‘waiting’ sliding scale. I have also had more than my fair share of sexual experiences and partners. One night stands, first date flings, friend-with-benefits, first-base ‘things’… hell, I’ve even found time to fall in love a couple of times. The outstanding common bedroom theme? Freedom, to do only what both of us were comfortable with at that moment in time.

    There should not be a hard and fast “rule” governing when to jump into bed, the point being that readiness to put out means different things to different people at different times. There should be no shame and no steadfast time-limit constraining sex if both parties are sure, and if both are careful – careful with their choice of partner, situation, and contraception. Done well, knocking boots is healthy, fun, and gives a buzz greater than many more dangerous pursuits. Not every liaison need lead to a long-term relationship, sometimes that feeling of intimacy is the goal. And there is nothing wrong with that, for men or women. Curious experimentation is a wonderful thing if stopped short of recklessness, in any walk of life. But despite knowing this, many are shamed into waiting for waiting’s sake, putting more pressure on themselves further down the line – I don’t think it’s too much of a generalisation to say that it’s the girls who feel this pressure to wait, with boys feeling equal pressure not to. Having sex is one of the most personal choices in a person’s life. Nobody else has a say in it if ownership of that choice is taken.

    One apparent external factor is the mistaken fear that timing is important to the long term. Come off it kids, unlike going to Homebase, getting to home base too early or too late can not on its own kill a relationship, even if long term is the endgame. With the right person, the timing of going to the next level is irrelevant when the nature of that change is right: mutual, responsible and with care for the other’s feelings – in deciding together, you’ll almost certainly grow closer as a couple. I’ve never experienced, nor have I seen, a solid relationship break down solely because the couple jumped the gun by jumping in the sack, or wither away because one half wouldn’t put out. There are always bigger problems. But sex (or lack of it) is the easiest to blame.

    Intimacy is at its very best when both parties are completely comfortable with and aware of the situation. When there is no pressure to say yes to every desire, but you both do because if feels right for that very moment. That moment could be half-way through the first date, or 6 months into a relationship. Which is why, when asked recently at the end of a second date whether I wanted to go all the way, my response was honest – yes, of course, but only if the feeling is mutual. I fancied the pants off her, had felt an immediate connection and felt immensely comfortable with her… my answer was obvious. Those feelings would not disappear if she said no because she wasn’t ready. As it turned out, it wasn’t right for her at that time, the resulting notch being one to the anticipation, not to my bedpost. In every way, waiting was the right decision – not because it was “only our second date”, but because it wasn’t the right time.

    Conversely, one of the worst situations from a male point of view is feeling like your partner is in bed with you out of pressure not to be ‘boring’, or out of a sense of some strange, timely duty, as opposed to actually wanting to sleep with you. It’s a situation caused solely by neither party being open about what they want. That amount of openness might seem scary, especially if it’s early on. But however short a time you’ve known them for, if you can’t talk about sex with your partner, you shouldn’t be having it either.

    My attitude is, if it feels right, do it. Responsibly, considerately, and openly. If it works for me, it can work for just about anyone.

    Jack is a boy. But he’s quite nice, so we’ll let that slide. He writes a wonderful blog about London life (check out The London Lad here) and can often be found in cocktail bars, violently defending his right to both be a straight man and drink daiquiris (though this does not include raspberry daiquiris*). You can find Jack propped up somewhere in SW6, on Twitter, or stealing salad from the giant conglomerate where he works. Hero. 

    *Foolish mistake

     


  7. Five flavours of bullshit aimed at bisexual women

    April 24, 2012 by hollybrocks

    (image from radicalparenting.com)

    1. You’re greedy

    I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve heard this. Apparently, because I’m attracted to both men and women, I am ‘having my cake and eating it’. This is ridiculous. The only world in which this could possibly make sense is one where I’d already worked my way through every man on the planet and decided I needed an additional 3.5 billion people to satisfy my desire. Um, no.

    Being attracted to both genders is nothing to do with greed. It doesn’t mean I will date more people, or date multiple people at once. It simply means the pool of people to choose from is potentially larger, because the restrictions are fewer. I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t call someone who said “I’m equally attracted to women of all ethnicities” ‘greedy’. Actually, you’d probably applaud their lack of discrimination.

    2. Bisexuality is ALL ABOUT SEX

    This one applies equally to gay people. For some reason, when people discuss gayness and bisexuality, they phrase everything in terms of sex – never love. It’s never that you fall in love with people of either gender, or can see yourself choosing them as a life partner – it’s always that you want to have sex with them.

    I’m inclined to think this is because people find it more interesting to think about gay sex than gay love. And in some cases, because it sounds MUCH more scandalous and sensationalist. It’s much harder to sound like a reasonable, rational person saying “We can’t let those people fall in love!” than saying “We can’t let them have sex!”. But of course the reality is just as it is for straight people: gay and bi people want to be able to have loving relationships too. It just doesn’t make such good headlines.

    3. You are half gay and half straight

    Wait… what the hell is this? I hadn’t heard this one until yesterday, when one of my colleagues said it and everyone else backed him up. Apparently, because I like both men and women, I am both gay and straight. At the same time. This makes absolutely no sense to me whatsoever.

    I reckon this thinking comes from the Venn diagram school of thought, something like this:

     

    No.

    Bisexuality is not in any way a mixture of two sexualities. It is a separate orientation. Let me explain: gay people are only attracted to the same gender. Straight people are only attracted to the opposite gender. They both rule out potential partners on the basis of gender. Bisexuals don’t do this, at all, ever. So how can I be a mixture of the two?

    4. Bi girls are dramatic attention whores/doing it for men/sexy

    Unfortunately, bisexual girls have a reputation for being dramatic, high maintenance, and insincere. This is partly because of a wider problem: the fetishisation by men of girl-girl sexual activity. Men see women snogging each other on the dance floor for their attention, and assume that all ‘bisexuals’ are secretly doing it for their approval. This is bollocks.

    I think it’s absolutely cringeworthy that men find my sexuality towards women appealing and arousing. It gives me the creeps. If someone kept telling a straight girl that they masturbate while imagining her sexing her boyfriend, wouldn’t you find that creepy and disgusting? Yes? So why do people feel it’s OK to say to me just because the other partner is a girl?

    I’m really fed up with people saying “ooh” when I say I’m bisexual, or making any sort of comment that implies it’s interesting, exotic or sexy. Bisexuality is not in itself kinky or debauched or for your entertainment. Grow up.

    5. You’ll grow out of it

    I got this all the time when I was a teenager and had actually plucked up the courage to tell someone I was bi. Thankfully, no one says it to me anymore (I guess 26 is old enough that they think if I was going to grow out of it, I would have done so by now), but I bet younger bisexuals still get it, so it’s worth including here.

    It is, of course, utter nonsense. I’ve known I was bi since the age of about 12, although it took a lot longer to understand and accept it. It’s not something that will ever suddenly change, just like Mr. Straight Man telling me ‘it’s a phase’ isn’t going to suddenly turn gay at 30. Ridiculous.

    In conclusion

    Bisexuality is just like any other sexuality. Before you say something really fucking insulting, try to imagine saying the same thing to a gay or straight person. If it sounds immature, creepy, insensitive or just plain idiotic, please don’t say it. Thanks.

    Holly is a copywriter lady and all round witty funnywoman. She writes an absolutely super blog with advertising-based rants, called Copybot. Go forth and read it for the funnies. She is also on Twitter.


  8. Why I Still Love You, Madonna

    April 3, 2012 by CJMortimer

    Photo from http://chuvachienes.com

    Liz Jones of sperm stealing, Daily Mail fame wrote last Tuesday that Madonna was past it and should put some clothes on.

    In her third article criticising Madonna’s lifestyle choices this year (her other potshots include telling Madonna dating a toyboy makes her look old and her looking ‘pillow faced’ at the Venice festival) Liz Jones attacks her for wearing fishnets and satin short shorts at a recent musical festival.

    While I must concede that Madonna, at 53, is no longer in her prime I am still outraged by an attempt to say that the Material Girl should behave some decorum.

    As preamble to her tale of controversial semen rustling Liz Jones proudly proclaimed that she was a feminist and that she looked down on ‘mumsy’ types that had given up on any hint of independence and sex appeal.

    So why criticise Madonna for doing the opposite?

    I’ll be first to admit that Madonna is not the spring chicken she once was; no matter how many liposuctions or macrobiotic lunches or toyboy husbands she gets through she will never again regain the true flower of her youth. Not even if she grows it in a lab, which I’m sure she has either already tried or will try in the near future.

    However, Iggy Pop, who is incidentally 65 next month and has a bass player who frequently appears with a cardigan and a cup of tea onstage, is almost ubiquitously seen running around topless and no-one has told him to cover up. When he unexpectedly performed a set to my sister and her classmates on a school trip to the local country house six or seven years ago (long story) most of the parents and teachers regarded the spectacle of a half naked pensioner cavorting about in front of a bunch of eight year olds amusing rather than distasteful (my sister on the other hand remembers just being confused by the whole thing).

    Similarly, Mick Jagger (pushing 70) still struts around a stage doing that bizarre chicken-fish hybrid dance that he does and sleeps with women a third of his age.

    Why is it when does Madonna any of this then she is ‘sad’?

    Madonna has always been a massive headache for the establishment. When she first arrived on the scene people thought she was a one hit wonder because she was no great beauty, no great voice and pop still considered the need for a King rather than a Queen on its throne.

    Fast forward thirty years; Madonna still reigns supreme and she is now in good company. At some point she will have to pass on her crown but it never would have been possible for the Britneys, the Kylies, the Lady Gagas and even the Adeles of the modern music industry to get their stilettos through the door if it wasn’t for her. She has proved time and time again that women can sit at the top table with men and behave just as badly as they like.

    Why stop now? Why not branch out and take over small African countries while you’re at it? A man would give half the opportunity.

    As feminists we have a set list of people we’re ‘supposed’ to admire. Emmeline Pankhurst, Betty Friedan, Germaine Greer and the rest. They wrote about feminism, they studied, they campaigned for it. They railed against the Patriarchy. Women like Madonna who spent the past thirty years parading around in their knickers should be ashamed by comparison.

    However, Pankhurst, Friedan and Greer were campaigning, all in their own ways, for women’s right to behave exactly in the same way as men.

    The new generation of female icons like Madonna, Caitlin Moran and even Lady Gaga are doing exactly that. They don’t give a crap if people think they’re being obscene, uncivilised or stupid. They do what they like, get their own way and don’t even bother to notice those who get in a sulk about it.

    So that is why Madonna, no matter what she wears or how many African children equate her with the child catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, will always sit comfortably between George Orwell and Anna Wintour when I list my idols.

    Living your life according the principle WWMD (What Would Madonna Do?) may not seem so ridiculous when you consider she moved to New York in 1978 with $35 in her pocket and in 2008 earned an estimated $40 million bringing up her total net worth to an estimated $500 million as of 2011.

    Caroline is a student at Birmingham University. She’s also a freelance journalist and blogger, providing insights into political, social, and economic news from around the world. You can follow her on Twitter here, or you can check out her superb blog here


  9. A Girl Yes, But Not Very Good At It

    March 1, 2012 by CJMortimer

    (photo from cyborgmonkey.wordpress.com)

    So I have always been described as a ‘girly girl’. I like pink, I like flowers, I like pretty dresses and high heels. I don’t have a sense of direction (it’s not just bad, it’s non-existent), I hate watching sport and I don’t like mud.

    People around me suggest that I’m the stereotype of ‘feminine’ because I’m highly strung, physically weak and have a tendency to get ditsy and confused on occasion. However I have always been one of those girls who is far more comfortable with men. You see, I’m one of those obnoxious people who rather shamefully likes ‘banter’ (provided it steers away from any misogynist, racist, homophobic or just plain mean lines), I like action movies, I read the finance sections of the newspaper and I find the offside rule really easy to understand. I hate shopping, I would rather have my eyes gouged out than watch a chick flick, I can’t cook, I don’t like wearing make up and I’m the archetypal, anti-romantic ‘Valentine’s Day Denier’.

    It’s not that I don’t like women or that women don’t like me. Far from it. I have a lot of close female friends who I love and adore but if I’m walking into a room full of strangers I naturally gravitate towards the male side of the room. A lot of people find this strange. This may be to do with my high school days as a wallflower and the mental scars of too many P.E. classes with the mean girls or spending my early childhood running around sailing in Essex with a group of friends who were mostly boys but I have always felt judged or on edge around women I didn’t know.

    When it came to the first AWOT meet up back in December I’ll admit I was a little nervous about being alone in a room with sixty or so women. Thankfully they all turned out to be lovely, friendly women who all accepted my eccentricities without challenge and I have no idea why I even worried. Although the reason we were all there because we had our gender in common (as well as a love of gin and cake), we were not all defined by it. We all came from different walks of life, had different interests and different life stories. We are women yes but that’s not all we are and many of us shared our supposedly unusually ‘male’ traits. None of us fits into the stereotyped ‘feminine’ box.

    This got me thinking, why are we defined principally as male and female before most other criteria? Why do women have to like shopping and men have to like sport? A lot of my university course lately has been focusing on gender as social construct and how this has limited our understanding of both women and men. Women are socialised to be ‘weak’ and ‘feminine’ and men are ‘strong’ and ‘masculine’; my enjoyment of male things and male company is somehow ‘not normal’ because it shows commonality with men when in social terms they must remain the distant ‘other’.

    Yesterday for instance, is seen as an aberration where women can ‘take the day off’ from fainting, embroidering and doing other meek and mild lady things to suddenly become assertive like men for 24 hours. Doing this full time would be far too taxing for us ‘weak’ womenfolk you see. The idea of a woman proposing marriage to her boyfriend would suggest too much control over her own life and decisions; women do not do the chasing, we are supposed to wait to be caught.

    The obsession with putting people and their sexes in boxes is a hangover from the Victorian period when dubious psychological and medical theories abounded about personality and sexuality. One particularly influential one was that homosexuality was the result of a defective ‘third sex’ that was neither male or female which formed part of the moral panic that lead to Oscar Wilde’s obscenity trial in 1895. Homosexuals were victimised during this period, and largely are still now, because they don’t fit into the norms of what is ‘male and what is ‘female’.

    The ‘Coalition For Marriage’ discussed in Tuesday’s blog post is based on the assumption that ‘one man’ and ‘one woman’ can be defined and their idea of marriage is based on a strict sexual binary which simply does not exist. I am a woman yes but when I was going back for a double helping of the X chromosome I didn’t miss out on the queue for some of those stereotypically male traits either. I am many, sometimes contradictory, things that make one unique whole and my gender is only a small part of it; I refuse to let it define me nor can it describe anyone else.

    Caroline is a student at Birmingham University. She’s also a freelance journalist and blogger, providing insights into political, social, and economic news from around the world. You can follow her on Twitter here, or you can check out her superb blog here.

     


  10. Pride and Prejudice: Thoughts on Marriage Equality

    February 28, 2012 by alicehaswords

    Image from speakequal.com

    Hello.

    I am writing this blog in response to a petition put forward by the ‘Coalition for Marriage’. Sounds benign enough, doesn’t it? I quite like marriage. It has a bit of a shady past, and it doesn’t always work out, but when it does, it can be a wonderful thing. Romantic soul as I am, I find the idea of getting married one day quite appealing – all that security and commitment and support? Lovely.

    Surprisingly for an organisation claiming to be ‘for marriage’, the Coalition for Marriage holds the strange belief that if, for example, I were allowed to get married, (to another woman, as I imagine I might some day want to do), society would somehow collapse around me as a direct result of this well-intended, loving union.

    In a surprise (and I can’t help but suspect cynically calculating) move, David Cameron, the Conservative prime minister, has stated his support for the legalisation of same-sex marriage in the UK. “Society is stronger when we make vows to each other and support each other”, he says. His claim that this view is the basis on which Conservatism is built is just plain inaccurate (unless I have missed a recent, drastic Tory swing in favour of the ideals of the socialist left) – but regardless, I can’t help but agree with this statement. Which is why I think it can only be a good thing to open up the marriage field beyond its current heterosexual margins.

    The Coalition for Marriage disagrees. This is the text of their online petition:

    “I support the legal definition of marriage which is the voluntary union for life of one man and one woman to the exclusion of all others. I oppose any attempt to redefine it.”

    The thing that bothers me most is their reasoning. So I’m going to pick it mercilessly apart.

    The following excerpts are taken directly from the Coalition for Marriage’s website:

    1. “Marriage is unique: Throughout history and in virtually all human societies marriage has always been the union of a man and a woman. Marriage reflects the complementary natures of men and women. Although death and divorce may prevent it, the evidence shows that children do best with a married mother and a father.”

    Well, that’s just not true. Throughout history and in virtually all human societies, marriage has had little or nothing to do with what we consider it to mean in Western societies today. It has been used as bargaining tool, to cement peaceful diplomatic relations between nations and families, to keep wealth within the realms of the already-wealthy; marriage as an entirely voluntary union between one man and one woman based on mutual love and commitment is, in the context of global history, a novel and peculiar notion. Don’t get me wrong, I think marriage is improved vastly by the attitude that women aren’t commodities to be exchanged in pursuit of wealth or power; I think the fact that marriage is no longer a necessity for one’s own physical and financial security is a good thing (much as I enjoy the works of Jane Austen for their wry, wordy humour, I can’t help but wonder if the intelligent and independently-minded Miss Elizabeth Bennett would have been quite so smitten with Mr Darcy had he not been fabulously rich).

    Yes, children are important. Yes, there have always been and will always be single-parent families (I tend to believe divorce actually adds value to the institution of marriage – there’s no such thing as a voluntary commitment when it’s legally irreversible, after all) – but the argument that children do better when brought up by a married couple surely falls in favour of marriage equality. More married couples! More basic, stable societal units! Everybody wins.

    2. “No need to redefine: Civil partnerships already provide all the legal benefits of marriage so there’s no need to redefine marriage. It’s not discriminatory to support traditional marriage. Same-sex couples may choose to have a civil partnership but no one has the right to redefine marriage for the rest of us.”

    Civil partnerships are quite nice, I’ll grant. But you can’t pretend they’re not a compromise. For one thing, heterosexual couples aren’t allowed to have them. That seems unfair. Some straight people really don’t like marriage (possibly for some of the associations I’ve already mentioned), or are just cross that their gay friends don’t have to right to call their partnership the thing they feel it to be: a marriage. Why can’t everybody have a choice between the two?

    And there’s that annoying word. “Traditional”. Again, whose tradition? How old exactly is this tradition? And why does changing this tradition to include same-sex marriages differ from changing the traditions that frowned upon marriage between people from different class and ethnic backgrounds in the past – (which, coincidently, were also widely disapproved of at first but gradually accepted as the norm. Funny how that keeps happening with stuff, isn’t it? I personally enjoy the way the centre ground is gradually pushed more and more towards the progressive left. I can vote AND go to hospital for free! Brilliant.)? The same arguments about things not being ‘natural’, as I recall, have been used time and time again to counter positive change. It’s a non-insult. The flushing toilet is not ‘natural’, but goodness knows I’m glad it exists. Whether or not homosexuality is ‘natural’ is irrelevant. There are gay people. Some of them want to get married to eachother. It’s not going to do anybody any harm, so let them.

    3. “Profound consequences: If marriage is redefined, those who believe in traditional marriage will be sidelined. People’s careers could be harmed, couples seeking to adopt or foster could be excluded, and schools would inevitably have to teach the new definition to children. If marriage is redefined once, what is to stop it being redefined to allow polygamy?”

    I just. What? There is absolutely no basis for these claims.

    And now they’re starting on polygamy too? But in many religions and societies, polygamy is traditional! Sticking with just one person for life? What a weird and unnatural thing to want to do. (That is, going by the Coalition’s own ideals of the all-importance of Tradition and Nature.)

    4.  “Speak up: People should not feel pressurised to go along with same-sex marriage just because of political correctness. They should be free to express their views. The Government will be launching a public consultation on proposals to redefine marriage. This will provide an opportunity for members of the public to make their views known.”

    Well there’s an easy answer to this one. If a gay person approaches you and proposes marriage, you don’t need to feel pressured into going along with it! You can just say no. Like with any other marriage proposal from somebody you don’t want to marry. Maybe you’ve misunderstood the suggested change to the law. If so, good news! Same-sex marriage is not compulsory. You can carry on your happy heterosexual life utterly unaffected.

    As a member of the British public, I am making my views known: marriage inequality IS discrimination. The definition of marriage lies with the specific individuals involved, and nobody has the right to take that away from them. Love is a fantastic starting point around which to build a shared life and a compassionate society, and it’s stronger than prejudice, and it’s stronger than intolerance, and if you think that a petty, narrow-minded, poorly justified petition is going to get in the way of that, you’re likely to find yourself on the wrong side of history.

    Yours patient-yet-defiantly,

    Alice x

    Alice is a student of cultural studies, a blogger, an aspiring maker of stuff (including, but not limited to, music, films & cake) and an all round Very Nice Person. She has a rainbow hat (and quite possibly a rainbow jumper) that I am fond of.

    You can find her on Twitter, or you can shake and shimmy over to her superb blog. I highly recommend it for insightful posts and general brilliance.


  11. Stripping Q&A

    February 17, 2012 by Ashley

    Following yesterday’s blog post, ‘Stripping: The Naked Truth’, our anonymous writer answers your questions about her experiences working as a stripper.

    Image from Tumblr

    Do you consider yourself a feminist?

    Yes, absolutely. I’ve always been a feminist and it’s something I believe in whole heartedly. I think a lot of feminists are uncomfortable with the idea of stripping – it’s not easy territory to navigate. Is it powerful to own your sexuality and use it to your advantage? Or is it an archaic activity that puts the women’s movement back several decades? I’m afraid I don’t have the answer to that one. But yes, I am absolutely a feminist.

    Do you feel like you were paid enough? It doesn’t seem worth it.

    Yes and no. Dances are worked on a sliding scale. The cheapest dance was £100 and that was only a 20 minute one in a non-private room, and you’d only get £50 of that. But on a good night you’re earning upwards of £100 an hour, which can be very lucrative. The private rooms are much more expensive (upwards of £1000 for an hour). At the end of the night you can be holding £50 or £500 or even £1,000 – the good nights feel worth it. The bad nights don’t. You just have to be careful not to tie your own self worth up in the money you’re making. That’s one of the real challenges.

    Didn’t stripping make you feel dirty or ashamed?

    No, it didn’t. I enjoyed it some of the time. Some of the weirder customers would say things that might be a bit… off. But you’re playing a part, much like an actor. You just switch off. Which is why I almost pity the men who go to the clubs. The women dancing for them are running through the next day’s shopping list in their head while they writhe and moan. It’s completely artificial.

    Does it annoy you that strippers are reviled and burlesque dancers are celebrated? 

    It doesn’t annoy me exactly. Burlesque is certainly more tasteful and more artfully done, but it’s the same principle. You’re still trading on your naked body. It’s just less… visceral. It’s arguably something of a double standard. Naked dancing is ok if you camp it up and wear red lipstick, but it’s not ok if you’re in a barely there evening gown? There’s no doubt that people are more comfortable with burlesque, but I don’t think a woman should be looked down on because she chooses one side of the coin and not the other. Burlesque is a perhaps a more respected option because it’s more about the tease than the cheap thrill of a naked woman in your lap.

    Was it 100% dancing, no time-filler chat? Did men feel bored/tired/spent/awkward during a 1hr private dance?

    Well if it was an hour then you’d usually try and draw out the small talk bit at the beginning. Men are funny – they ask you all these questions about your life as if they expect honest answers. But all the customers were different – some didn’t want you to dance at all and would just hug you. Others would just want to talk to you while holding your hand. Sometimes you’d feel more like a therapist. A therapist with their breasts hanging out. Some guys would even ask you to keep your clothes on. But for the most part, it would be 10 mins of talking, then you’d be doing the lap dance for 50 mins. But the lap dancing isn’t all aerobic all the time (though it is quite tiring). You’re mostly straddling them and waving your boobs in their face. When I got tired I would lie across them and they loved it. Where I worked, they could touch everything apart from your actual crotch. They were usually pretty happy for you to take a break as long as they were touching you.

    Did you ever feel sick doing it?

    Yes, sometimes.

    Do all the strippers get along?

    It’s like any group of women. There are friendships and rivalries. But for the most part, the women I knew were all very friendly with each other. You’d know you’d made a friend if they told you their real name. The rest of us just called each other by our stage names.

    Were you ever offered paid-for sex? And if so, were you tempted? Is there really much of difference between stripping and prostitution? 

    Yes, you quite often get propositioned for sex. It’s understandable when you’re in the sex industry. But no, I was never even remotely tempted. It’s one thing to entertain someone else’s fantasy – but as a personal choice, I wouldn’t have wanted to sleep with any of the clients. Most of them were just sort of sad. And while I would never judge a woman for being a prostitute, it’s not something I have ever considered. I feel some things should be left sacred.

    What was your worst moment as a stripper?

    The hardest part of the act is pretending you’re really into someone who’s a complete turn off. The upstairs rooms where the dances took place all smelt of sweat and sex, so stripping can be a really ugly business when you’ve got a nightmare client. The most demoralising part of stripping is when you’re chatting someone up and they don’t want to buy a dance. But the one moment where I really thought ‘what the fuck am I doing?’ was during the middle song of a stage dance. I was dancing on my own at the beginning of the night, so the club was still pretty empty. ‘My Neck My Back’ came on and I was attempting to dance sexily while a man rubbed his crotch at me 10 feet away. I had to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. It was that moment when I knew I had to quit.

    Why did you quit? 

    I quit because I didn’t need to do it anymore. I never saw it as a career – it was a way of getting some quick cash. I think it can be dangerous to stay in the business in the long term. Some of the girls were quite damaged by it. You have to be careful with it.

    Was stripping really your last alternative? You couldn’t have gotten a job in McDonalds?

    Yes, at the time it felt like the only light in a really dark storm. I needed cash in hand and I needed it within a couple of days. It was stripping or giving erotic massages to businessmen on Craigslist. But it was also something I wanted to try just to see if I actually could do it. It was like I dared myself into it. But I didn’t do it for very long at all.

    If you’re not ashamed of stripping, why post anonymously?

    I wrote the post anonymously because stripping is a huge taboo, even for modern, free thinking women. When people find out you’ve been a stripper, they put you in a box marked ‘stripper’, which is synonymous with lots of negative attitudes. You cease to be a woman, a girlfriend, a wife, a mother – you’re just a stripper. Stripping is a job – it’s not who you are. A couple of my close friends know about it and they don’t judge me. But I suspect most of my friends wouldn’t be able to look at me the same way again.

    Would you ever encourage someone to try stripping?

    I wouldn’t outwardly recommend it, no. I don’t regret it, but it’s definitely made an impact on me, in both positive and negative ways. But as with all experiences, you really have to try these things to know how you’re going to feel about them. But would I tell someone to become a stripper? No, I wouldn’t.

    Did you ever get turned on by a customer?

    I would be lying if I said no.

    What’s the biggest myth about stripping?

    That all strippers are gorgeous, skinny blondes with daddy issues. I’m not gorgeous, skinny or blonde and I sure as hell don’t have daddy issues. The girls I worked with are all attractive in their own way, but most of them don’t look much like Heidi Klum or Miranda Kerr. A big part of being sexy is confidence – I’ve seen size 18 girls take to the pole and go home with more money than God. They’re just people. Women. They also own onesies, eat whole pots of Ben and Jerrys, and know Bridget Jones off by heart.

    Any final words on the subject?

    Just wanted to say thank you to the people who’ve shared the blog. Ashley passed on some wonderful compliments that came my way and I really appreciate the kind words and support.

    If you have a story you would like to share anonymously, please email anonawot@gmail.com or DM me on Twitter for the anon account log in details. Thank you.


  12. Let’s talk about RAPE

    February 3, 2012 by Anon

    This is the second part of a two part instalment following the ‘unilad’ pro-rape post earlier this week. Content could be considered triggering. 

    Photo from Slutwalk

    I am a healthy, happy, relatively straightforward twenty something woman living in London. I have an awesome job and awesome friends. I make filthy jokes and talk about my tits and cook steak and get laid and have a respectable fear of my Visa bill and run everywhere because I’m always running late. I’m a proud, porn watching, sometimes smoking, usually drinking, constantly swearing, good-frock-push-up-bra-and-matching-french-knicker-wearing highlighted lipsticked feminist.

    You’re probably a lot like me. Or I’m probably a lot like your sister or your daughter or a mate or someone you went to uni with. Chances are I have something in common with someone in your life.

    I hope it’s not this. I got raped by my boyfriend when I was 17.

    It’s not something I tell many people – it only comes out at the drunkest, darkest, intimate and emo moments. And I get teary and feel bad that I’m teary because I wasn’t attacked by a stranger who jumped out of a bush. I never formally reported anything to anyone. And I stayed with that boyfriend until I was 21.

    For the sake of clarity, here’s how it happened. We were staying with his grandparents, two sweet, kind, generous conservative people who I am genuinely sad to have lost touch with. We’d been there for a few days (I think it was the Easter holidays) and he was complaining nearly constantly about having blue balls, how desperate he was to fuck me et cetera. When you’re both adolescents this is to be expected – you learn to filter it out like white noise. I was against the idea – even though he was a two minute man, any periods of quiet or creaking furniture would have the grandparents rushing in to see what was going on. Also, they had given us separate rooms and sexing in their house would be bad manners.

    We were playing Scrabble. I had suggested, by way of a compromise, Sexy Scrabble. “We can spell things out and then…do them next time we’re in an empty house!” I said enthusiastically. Sexy Scrabble was dually frustrating. The boyfriend was suggesting that his penis might burst forth from his pants like a fleshy sea monster, and I was struggling to make normal words out of K, Q, W, R, R, T and L – never mind erotic ones.

    Here’s what I remember next. Him, behind me, pulling my jeans down, me saying “I really don’t think this is a good idea.” Then “I don’t want to do this.” Then “Stop it.” Then silence.

    Because if I screamed or struggled his grandparents would rush in, and that might be awkward. They might tell his parents and that would be really bloody awkward.

    I remember feeling sad, not angry, and hoping he’d come soon and stop. And then feeling sticky and cold and uncomfortable, and pretending to his grandparents that I was quiet and uncommunicative because I had an upset stomach. And they were adorable, fussing over me and offering herbal tea and Gaviscon and ginger biscuits as their grandson glowered in the corner because of the quiet conversation we’d had earlier.

    “You just…well, I told you to stop and you didn’t stop and there’s a word for that.” I blinked very hard.

    “Why are YOU crying? You’ve just called me a rapist.”

    I’m not sure why I didn’t break up with him then. I wish I had. I think I was scared of admitting what had happened to anyone – especially myself. I couldn’t reconfigure my thinking to see myself as some victim of abuse. I just didn’t fit the profile.

    A couple of days ago, I watched with slack jawed astonishment as links to a misogynist website appeared all over Twitter. (The people posting the links were as horrified as I was, no-one was suggesting it was the work of a reasonable human being.) The website made a joke about 85 per cent of rape cases going unreported, suggesting readers might as well have sex with someone without their consent because it would probably be fine. It then removed this joke, making an anaemic, mealy mouthed apology about it. The writers shut the site down (temporarily) last night.

    The rape joke was bad. But I can read something like that and deal with it. It’s not as if I’m getting traumatised by horrible flashbacks whenever it’s referenced. It’s pretty grim, and I’m not proud of it, but me and my similarly left leaning feminist friend collective often refer to pricey things as “pocket rape”, bad kissers as “mouth rapists” and have announced that we’d happily “rape that cake” when outside the Patisserie Valerie window. Yeah, I know. We’re working on it, and digging each other sharply in the ribs when we catch ourselves doing it. One shouldn’t use abuse to abuse language.

    But the weirdly polarised response freaked me out. Nearly everyone I follow felt it was utterly disgusting and reprehensible and said as much. The supporters and readers of the site started asking critics about their sexuality, implying that they needed a cock up their arse where the stick was, urging complainants to “look the other way” and “everyone who doesn’t agree that rape is pure banter is a frigid fun sponge!” (I may be paraphrasing the last one.) It was as if Blackadder’s Prince Regent was inhabited by Chuck Traynor and had a Broadband connection.

    Like everyone else, I grabbed my digital pitchfork and ran with the angry mob, far, far away from the point. 85 per cent of rape cases go unreported! Hold on, is this not what we should be talking about?

    And hearbreakingly I surmised that if I have good friends who don’t know I’m in the 85 per cent, then it must have happened to some of my friends too. And because they also weren’t attacked by a stranger from the depths of a bush, they filed their experience away under “I’m not quite sure what to do with that” and left it there. And not to go all Andrea Dworkin, but if we all know someone who has experienced rape (even if we don’t know about it), then we might well know a rapist too.

    Rape is undeniably horrific, and serious. But maybe if we were a little less serious about it, we’d talk about it more. We could start to figure out who the 85 per cent are – and what is motivating the criminals who are driving those stats. It would be a pretty dark game of Word Association Football where ‘rape’ came up, but if it did the word that would probably follow it is ‘victim’. Even ‘survivor’ sounds a bit grim – “yes, I got raped and now I dress like I’ve been in a nuclear apocalypse and my eyes have a hint of zombie about them – but I SURVIVED!”

    I wish I could eradicate all rape forever, but I think that the best way to start doing that is to normalise it as an experience. Of course we must be sad and upset and angry – but as well as wailing and gnashing our teeth and fetishising it in a Catherine Cookson way, we need to address it as something that happens to smart, funny women like us and everyone we know. Rape doesn’t just happen as a result of poverty or neglect or vulnerability or all the other human tragedies that we may or may not be able to relate to. And if a lot of ignorant, naive boys want to make a joke out of it, if we’re in a position to do so we must use our smart skills to show that the joke’s on them.

    If you’ve been the victim of a sexual assault, you can speak to Rape Crisis or Solace. For additional information, have a look at Rights of Women

    If you have a story you would like to share anonymously, please email anonawot@gmail.com or DM me on Twitter for the anon account log in details. Thank you.