Perhaps you were wondering if I'd end up posting a rant about this whole "rape culture/consensual abuse" circus. It seems just the kind of thing I'd jump on, doesn't it? I do have an opinion, naturally, but to me it's really all one foundational, underlying issue. And I've been hesitant to broach it, mainly because we're all supposed to be strong, modern women, and I shouldn't HAVE to.
You should just know.
You should know that love doesn't hurt or humiliate or rank titilation above tenderness and kindness.
You should know that you're going to feel like a loser after a one night stand because sex is as much emotional and intellectual as it is physical.
You should know, by golly, that if you set out to use another person without regard for their feelings or circumstances, you, they, or both of you are bound to get hurt.
But you DO know all this. You know it. You feel it. That's the problem. No matter how much we try to convince ourselves that sex can be a meaningless romp or a playground for the self absorbed, we know that it can't be.
Otherwise, we would't feel so damned ashamed when we do something monumentally stupid.
Here's the thing about shame. Like pain, it's a useful tool. Pain tells your body that there is something not quite right. Shame tells you're soul that there is something not quite right. This is why they call it the "walk of shame". You know, instinctively, that you have done something to your detriment. Not because of anything as insipid as reputation. But because you have settled for less than you deserve. Your soul is crying out for better.
Women who wake up the morning after feeling wretched are not shamed by society or by some guy. They have shamed themselves and that awful feeling is not a punishment, but a warning. It's your soul trying to take the blinders off your eyes.
The very foundation of humanity is knowing who you are and being true to yourself. Otherwise, we are just sheep, being herded along by the ones with the big sticks. But as women we are being told that our intuition doesn't matter. That if we put ourselves in a situation that feels risky, we aren't responsible for the results. That if we feel badly for something we've done, it has to be someone else's fault. That if we make a mistake, we must be a victim instead of a thinking, feeling, self-determining human being.
But that doesn't help us. It doesn't change us. It only makes us feel powerless.
The rape culture craze that has lately imprisoned higher education is based on the supposition that a woman is a helpless damsel in distress, so delicate and fragile that if a man unexpectedly kisses her, she's going to fall to pieces. Sexual assault, a real and serious issue, which should be the focus of actual law enforcement, against actual criminals, has been diluted and mocked to the point where the woman who was drugged or beaten is grouped with the woman who regrets a drunken makeout session. The man who goes a little too far with a girl he's already slept with several times is grouped with the psycho who gets off on hearing his victims beg and scream.
As much as we repeat the mantra, "no means no", we aren't actually expecting a woman to say no anymore. We aren't expecting her to be master of her own fate or even exercise reasonable judgement. We are assuming that she is weak and powerless! All she has to do is regret her choices. All she has to do is feel uncomfortable and embarrassed. And we make her an instant victim and hero of the cause. And we crucify the poor shmoe who thought he was getting lucky.
In other words, we manipulate and disrespect them both.
But I didn't mean to get so drunk, she says. But I was thinking no, she claims. I thought it was okay, but then realized later that I didn't like it. He shouldn't have taken advantage. Whah....?
Let me get this straight...you go out and get so drunk that you can't say no, and you're supposed to rely on a guy who's likewise wasted to determine that you're too drunk to have sex with? You're making a man responsible for deciding whether or not you're fit to have sex? And you don't find that sexist? Are you kidding me?
You got yourself to the place where you couldn't say no or didn't want to say no when you should. You put yourself in the company of people who are looking for the slightest bit of encouragement to use you. You did. You. You and only you have the power to jump into a bad situation with both feet...or to avoid one.
And when did women decide that they shouldn't have to...I don't know...communicate to their potential partners? When did we decide that because our girlfriend or older sister regaled us with exciting stories of college hook ups it's somehow the guy's fault that we got what we wanted? If you get drunk at a frat party, you damn well know that you're surrounded by guys looking for casual sex. You know it. And yet you came. And you started drinking. How very smart of you.
Now, lest you begin to think I advocate taking advantage of a drunk girl at a party, smack yourself upside the head for me. Thanks. NO WOMAN in the WORLD thinks that it's okay for a guy to take advantage of a drunk girl at a party. But you have to admit, that some of the responsibility must fall on the person who chooses to BE a drunk girl at a party. The fact is, the radical feminist social engineers of our day have gone to a lot of effort to convince us all that women want casual sex just as much as men and that it's harmless as long as it's "consensual". We are telling guys, practically screaming at them, that we like casual sex. So put yourself in the guy's position. You go to a party intent on hooking up and meet a cute girl who's had about as much to drink as you have and who responds very favourably to your advances. Score. You have a great night - at least what you can remember of it - and part ways sometime before dawn...you think. A week later you're being investigated on sexual assualt charges, your career path is about to tank, and everyone thinks you're a rapist. Great. And the girl? She didn't make a stupid mistake, oh no. She was a victim of your brutality. Of your criminal act. Except that it wasn't criminal. They didn't even call the police.
Can I make a suggestion? Can I suggest that a woman who isn't sure if she's been assaulted isn't really uncomfortable or embarrassed because she's been conditioned to accept abuse at the hands of men, but that she's ashamed in the real and powerful sense of the word. Ashamed because she knows in her heart that she was reckless and irresponsible. That she agreed to be used. That something was not quite right. And that she was a part of that wrongness. It's sad. It's heart breaking. But it is what it is.
She was told that she ought to want to hook up with some cute guy at a party. And she believed it...until it happened. And then she felt like crap. She was told that exposing herself in some public way is liberating. It's her body, right? But then the smartphone-captured evidence rears its ugly head. And she feels like crap.
The feminists think we shouldn't have to feel like crap. They are convincing us that anger and recrimination are much easier to handle than remorse. They expect us to come to college and happily swallow all their lies about sex - and then blame others for the hurtful and humiliating consequences.
If we want to blame someone, blame them! They told us a big fat, dangerous lie! And we were stupid enough to believe it.
They lied to us because they have this mistaken idea that men are living the high life, allowed to exploit others free from shame, guilt, and compassion and that we should be allowed a slice of that moral relativity too. But there is a fatal flaw to their way of thinking. They make the dazedly incorrect assumption that such loose behavior doesn't hurt men.
Of course it does!
We've just, as a society, come to expect too little of our men and let them carry the burden of shallow relationships and poor decisions for generations - a burden that we could help to lift, but instead, aspire to share. We could help them to chivalry, integrity and sincerity, but choose instead to cast off these values from ourselves. In the past we made excuses for them because they were beyond reproach. Now we make excuses for them because we despise them. Because men are "like that".
I know of a few...million...men who might disagree. Or who at least should disagree. Vehemently.
And even if all men were pigs...why then would we want to be pigs too? Why are some women so consumed with being as shallow, indifferent, selfish, and cruel as the worst of men? Like it's some sort of right?
These social engineers are trying to convince us that we want a fictional liberation. That we can't only be legally free to be promiscuous, we must want to be. And we must be rewarded for it by having all the natural negative consequences removed. Just tell me this. Do you actually want it rough? Do you want it casual? Do you want to be abandoned sometime in the early hours of the morning? Do you want to be expected to text racy pictures? Do you want to be appreciated only until a firmer body or more bendable will comes along? Do you want to limit human interaction to a fix you seek out when you're depressed or bored...like scarfing down a pint of ice cream but with much worse repercussions?
If the answer is yes, then I would venture to say that most of you don't actually like these things, you just think that men like you more for pretending to like these things. Honey, that is the opposite of true feminism. And it's destructive to both sexes.
Seriously, if your husband/boyfriend came home from work and said to you, "Honey, you aren't going out with the girls tonight because I want sex and I'm thinking I might try choking you this time," how would you react?
Laugh. Projectile vomit. Kick him to the curb. All in that order.
This is what you want, they tell us. This will make you free.
But our hearts and our souls and our common sense are all telling us otherwise.
Young women who don't know how to deal with the hurt are being encouraged to lash out. And young men who only believed what the feminists were telling them are paying with their futures.
And that brings us to the most bizarre part of this whole human-hating witch hunt, which must be confusing our poor young men to the point of delirium. You can't even kiss a girl without her express permission on a college campus, and yet droves of starry eyed women went to see Fifty Shades of Gray. I'm pretty confused by it all myself.
Now, I'm a libertarian and a capitalist. I welcome publishers everywhere to print as much smut as they care to. I also welcome you, as thinking, feeling, human beings, to read and watch as much smut as you care to. Just as I welcome you to drink diet soda and eat at McDonalds. It's your body. It's your mind.
Choose your poison.
But please stop being stereotypical sexually repressed soccer moms for crying out loud!
Because it is art imitating life.
I am making this point very earnestly to you. Because some women are hurt and humiliated by their partners. Some women are raped and beaten and isolated. For real.
And apparently hundreds of thousands of other women enjoy watching. Because they aren't going in droves to the theatre for the social commentary, the believable performances...or the writing (oh gosh, the writing!). They aren't going because they want to see a woman escape, triumphant. They go to sit in the dark and giggle and sigh and fantasize about rich and handsome sociopaths.
How is it pleasurable to re-enact crimes perpetrated against others? To fake the fear, rage, despair and suffering that haunts the victims of such real-life acts for the rest of their lives? To me that seems monstrously inhuman. A blatant mockery. Their dignity in exchange for your arousal.
We are spurning and scorning the real human interaction of love and intimacy and glorifying the false, the staged, the affected. We are teaching our youth to fake love and avoid the real thing. We have an amazing built-in moral compass and we're being taught to hate and distrust it.
The real issue at the heart of so-called rape culture, at the bottom of Fifty Shades, and at the crux of male/female relationships, is that women and men are being taught to accept garbage as food. We are being given rancid meat and told that it's supposed to make us retch a little. Um...NO! Sex isn't supposed to make us feel great for a moment and then awful for days afterward, like crack. It's supposed to add to our lives and enrich our love. Anyone who tells you differently either wants to get into your head or into your pants.
Neither one actually cares about you.
You are going to have to be the one who cares about you. You are going to have to be the protector, the decider, the master of your fate.
You will have to be the one who chooses which company she keeps, what kinds of parties she attends, what kind of men she dates, how she communicates her wishes, and how she demands to be treated.
Otherwise, you're just sheep, being herded along by the ones with the big sticks.
*As always, feel free to retort on your own blog. If you can't respect my position, you must at least respect my liberty. Thank you.