Sunday, April 28

Delectable shame

Real post coming soon. In the mean time, here's a link that I'll probably be referencing forever. I love finding things on the Internet that are exactly the answer to a question I get asked a lot. Feels less lonely, and also adds a comforting weight to the arsenal of "no, I am not disturbed, and here's why," in which I seem to always fumble, trying to answer those oft-asked questions.

Anyhow, enjoy:

http://freethoughtblogs.com/greta/2013/04/22/an-open-letter-to-people-concerned-about-kink/?utm_source=feedly

Monday, April 15

Falling in Love All Over Again

I know my partner is a feminist, and a radical, and a sex-positive, patriarchy-smashing rockstar. I know it, but sometimes it slips into the background, like many things in long term relationships tend to do. It's there, but I'm not watching it every second like in the beginning. I don't think this makes me a bad partner; I just think it's part of relaxing into a life with someone.

But then he goes and writes something like this (see below), and it's right in front of my face again. It's reflective and informed; it's simple to understand, yet broadly applicable. It's one of the best working definitions of privilege I've seen.

He posted it on facebook, as a status, in response to nothing in particular. Many women commented. They commented in funny ways, in heartfelt ways, in (oddly and ironically) joke(?)-romantic/sexual ways ("Swoon," "If I wasn't already married, I'd chase you..." etc). I understand where they're coming from, as I felt similarly; so rare is an understanding like this, and even rarer from a cis-male-identified person. It's a precious thing, and it feels like a precious thing, to see someone speak about their own privilege without shame or guilt. With proud awareness and active responsibility. Makes me want to get up on something tall and wave my arms above my head and whoop.

But I didn't comment. Some of it was that I knew I would get to talk to him about it later, not on a facebook wall (we hardly ever communicated in public that way, which I like). Some of it was not wanting to seem overbearing or possessive by commenting on a thread where other women expressed desire and love for my partner (not that those things are bad - see later paragraph).

But the biggest part of it came from a feeling of smallness, which I don't like, which I want to unpack. I read his post, and read the comments, and felt bad that I was having the same reaction as these women. Felt bad that I didn't react more normally, that his post wasn't something that immediately registered as "of course he wrote that." Which is not to say that it didn't fit with his character as I know it, just that: in being similarly surprised and delighted as all the other people, I felt somehow that I'd been taking him for granted.

I felt guilty, but also that I was somehow slacking, and in that laziness, that I was wandering into dangerous territory. Yes, I thought the same things as all these women, and of course I did, because they're true. Because the man that I am with is a really, really incredible man. And if I don't remember that, if I let the luck of being with him go squandered, then I might not be so lucky anymore. Obviously, there are many women lined up. Obviously, some of them are pretty amazing feminists, are pretty amazing thinkers and writers, are (and this is no small piece of the puzzle) simply very pretty. I couldn't distinguish myself from them, and if there is nothing different or unique about me, then I must make up for it by treating my partner like gold. In that moment, realizing that I might be less acknowledging of him than these other women was, in short, very threatening, and very scary. If I'm not special, and I don't do a good job of realizing how he is special, then why would he stay?

This is all, of course, bullshit. I don't actually believe in a) an emotional starvation economy, or b) that anything I was "slacking on" could possibly loose me my partner. (If he didn't feel appreciated, and we talked about it, and he still didn't feel appreciate, that would be another story, and something we would work through (or not, but we'd talk about it first). He isn't going to magically leave me one day because I haven't praised him enough times in the last forty eight hours). But feelings don't really listen to the things I believe in, a lot of time. Feelings are gremlins raised and fed by the patriarchy for twenty years, and I'm just now weening them onto a healthier diet. And, as they say with any diet, old habits die hard.




This wasn't supposed to be a post about my reaction to Jamie's writing. This was supposed to just be Jamie's writing. Ah well.

Down with the darkest gremlins, in the farthest reaches of the Caves O' Patriarchy, I am scared that finding more feminist communities or being more active is social justice circles is going to mean that Jamie will leave. Part of what he loves about me is my politics, is talking about them with me, is what I think and how I think about it. And I'm scared that it's a unique part of me, to him; that it's part of why he stays, and in meeting other people who are also like me in that way, I will become less special. He will discover that the things setting me apart actually do not. This isn't any more real of a fear than any of the rest of the bullshit, but I think it falls into a more real category. Or a more identifiable category.

I am scared that an aspect of our relationship that makes it special won't anymore, and then what does?

And now that I've said it out loud, it'll probably get a whole lot better.


yup, i really did this (not this time around, but perhaps more than once in the past)

It's the same as any boundary that we work on, although this one is more specific to us, I think, than say, physical boundaries or kinky boundaries. What defines our relationship, what sets it apart from other relationships is just exactly that: that we each choose this, that he is who he is and that I am who I am. That our relationship is the two of us together. I forget what book or podcast said it, but somewhere there's a quote about poly that goes something like "Non-monogamy is having so much faith in your relationship that you don't have to have faith in anything else." And while I'm a long way off from that as yet (and don't consider in an absolutely goal or anything), it's a principal I stand by. I just have to cajole the feelings into going along with the principals. Gremlins, fall in line.

So, without further ado, here's what I've actually been talking about. This is a post, un-prompted, by a man who, even if I wasn't real in love with him, I would respect deeply, and like a whole lot.


Here's what it comes down to (my point of view):
When my date drinks too much I never worry about my safety.
When I was in NYC, walking around at night with torn clothing, I never once was stopped and frisked.
I'm secure in the knowledge that no one out there wants to beat me to death or drag me behind a truck, and certainly no one with the power to do so.
There is no law in place or proposed that will deny me anything based on any part of my identity.
When I'm walking from my car to my front door at night I never put my keys between my fingers.
If I get too drunk at a party I know the worst I'll wake up with is Sharpie on my face and embarrassing facebook photos.
When I get pulled over by a cop they never once imply that I shouldn't be out driving, might be up to something illegal, or search me or my car.
When I was in college if I interrupted someone they stopped talking, and no one interrupted me.
No one looks at any part of my body when I'm talking except my face.
No one's implied any part of my identity is a phase, something I'll grow out of, a sin, a crime, or an affront to them.
I never worry that someone is hiring, promoting, listening to, agreeing with, or talking to me because they want to sleep with me.

If I feel depressed I can look for inspiration in the heroes of every movie and video game ever - they all look like me, and never imply I need someone else to come rescue me, I have all the power to do it myself.
If I decide to vote, no one will make any effort to dissuade me.
If I come to work disheveled, people will be ask if I'm sick and respect me no less than they did yesterday.
I've never had to commit the small deception of wearing a ring on a different finger to ward off amorous advances of someone who might turn violent in their persistence, unless a metal band indicates I belong to someone else.
I spent 12 years of school studying people who look like me doing great things.
I've never considered whether the person I'm with might sexually assault me.
I've never had to talk in anything other than my native tongue to get respect.
I get to wear the clothes my parents and peers have always worn without judgment.
No part of my identity is subject to ridicule, mockery, questioning, nor am I ever called to educate those around me about what it's like to be one of me.
No one's ever implied my weight casts aspersions on my abilities.
I get taken seriously.

I feel like that confers a responsibility to share those advantages with those who might not have them in any way I can. Don't you?

I love him for this. As a caveat, I love him for many reasons, both describable and not, but his politics are a part of it. And being afraid to say that in a public forum because of petty, patriarchal constructs is just sort of bullshit.

Because he is really incredible, and even if it isn't at the top of my thoughts every day, I shouldn't be scared to whoop from the rooftops when it is.