The Sexual Anorexic Next Door.

(TRIGGER WARNING.)





Having recently been self-diagnosed as a sexual anorexic, I've been doing a lot of thinking about sex-positive feminism, and how - as a sexual anorexic - it's played into my personal perspectives about sex, and how rape-culture plays such a big role in my perception of sex and power, being a rape-survivor myself, and somewhat having my personal experiences with rape serve as sort of a catalyst for my sexual anorexia.

For the past year or so, since I started to come to terms with being raped by my best friend, not only have I avoided sex, but I've avoided intimacy of all styles and colors. I've always been socially-anxious, but I stopped interacting with other people almost entirely. I didn't think much of it, except that maybe it was just a normal reaction to being raped, and that I would some day feel sexual and crave intimacy once again; that it was a symptom of my - or any rape-survivor's - coping period, rather than a major issue in and of itself. However, as time progressed, I didn't begin to feel comfortable with notions of sex and intimacy again, nor did I feel myself yearning for those things. I began to feel more and more detached, indifferent, and uninterested in them. I started to wonder if I'd slowly been becoming asexual, but I knew that didn't feel right, either. I've never been asexual. Just like I've never been heterosexual. To me, "turning" asexual would be the same as "turning" straight - 's not happenin'.

It was recently that I really started examining those things, too. Asexuality is perfectly healthy and normal. It's just not healthy or normal for me. And so I began to ask myself, "What's wrong with me?" And I didn't have a single iota of a clue on how to answer that question, except to continue to dwell on the fact that my rape - and the devastating reality of who my rapist was - really fucked up my head.

I'd never heard the term "sexual anorexia" until about a week ago. I was watching a show on Discovery Health, entitled "Strange Sex." One of the stories on the show was of a gentleman who had developed sexual anorexia at some point in his life, and it was affecting his marriage in terrible ways, since his wife had to beg him for sex, and even then, he'd still refuse most of the time. I don't think I breathed for the entire duration of his story. They didn't go into great detail about the particulars of the condition, but that morsel was enough to spark my interest. I marched straight to my computer and started looking up information online about sexual anorexia.

I didn't like what I found out.

I didn't like what I found out, because every webpage I read, every synopsis of every book written by a sex expert, every video I watched, and every character assessment even remotely pertaining to the details of the condition filled me with the particular brand of dread one feels when they see/read/hear something, and can't stop thinking, "Oh. Oh, wow. That's me, for sure."

In the most concise manner, I can describe sexual anorexia as this: It is a form of sex-addiction that is on the opposite end of the sex-addiction continuum from the hyper-sexual sex-addiction that most people are accustomed to imagining when they hear the words "sex-addiction." It is an addiction to the avoidance of sexual activity, rather than the constant pursuit of sexual activity.

It's both relieving and unsettling to have a name for what I've been going through. Relieving, because I finally know what to call it, and I have a general focus, and a goal to work toward so that I can recover. Unsettling because it validates the little voice that's been inside of me for months, saying, "Wow. You're really messed up."

The main cause?

Sex-related trauma.

Other factors are considered, though, such as emotional-abuse in past relationships, social-anxiety, and a diffident/shy personality.

Check, check, check, and check, doctor.

Apparently, like the eating-disorder, and like any and all forms of addiction, this will never really go away. Sexual anorexics have the tendency to struggle with their anorexia for the rest of their lives. I know that I need to re-learn healthy sex habits, and I need to assert myself back into a real social life. I'm not sure where to start, but I do know what needs to be done. I do not want my relationships with my wonderful partners to suffer because of this.

I do think, in cases such as this, feminism is a bit of a double-edged sword for me. I've dedicated hours upon hours of my life into advocating feminism, educating people on it, writing about it, reading about it, studying feminist theory, talking about women's rights, pointing out all the oppression in Western culture, and the world as a whole. Included in all of that is rape-culture; rape-apologist culture. We live in a culture that apologizes for rapists, while blaming their victims. I know all of the details and all of the statistics about rape and rapists. Because it comes with the territory of being a feminist.

However, in knowing all of these statistics, coping with my rape, and listening to the stories of real women who have real experiences with rape and rape-survival (and I mean that only to separate them from the coldness and disassociation typical of statistical analysis), I've caused myself fear of men completely. I'm wary of nearly every man I see. Every man I pass by on the street, every man I sit next to at a bus stop, every man I stand next to in a line, every man I see walking around after the sun sets. Him in the juice aisle, and him walking into the gym, and him buying Twizzlers, and him, and him, and him over there at the bar, and him, and him, and him, too. Because if my best friend could take advantage of me, abuse my trust, use me, and rape me - someone who's supposed to love me unconditionally and protect me and want me to be okay - why WOULDN'T some guy rape me (or anyone else, for that matter) when he doesn't know me from Eve, and, thus, doesn't give a cartful of flying monkey asses about me whatsoever?

Because - and I can't stress this enough - rape isn't about sex. Rape is about power, and asserting power over someone potentially weaker than you are. And the reason you begin to question all the men around you - even strangers - is because you have no idea how many of these men are power-hungry. How many of them would rape - or have raped - because they didn't think they were raping; maybe because it's not, or wasn't, "textbook" rape. There are a lot of factors to consider, and there are a lot of reasons that women like me are placed under the spell of endless fear.**

My attitudes toward sex have always been liberal - at least, by the average person's standards, I suppose. Ever since I learned about sex-positive feminism, I knew that I could call myself a sex-positive feminist rightfully, because I'd always been a sex-positive feminist. There is an on-going debate between sex-positive feminists and anti-sex "feminists," about the emphasis placed on sex in our culture, and women practicing healthy, confident sex habits and behaviors - especially ones that don't fit into the status-quo of female sexuality. Do these pro-sex attitudes and images promote rape and sexual abuse, or similar behaviors?

No. Because rape has existed since dicks have existed. Why? Because that's how long the power-struggle has existed, too. It has nothing to do with sex-workers, or porn, or sex shops, or women asserting themselves sexually into the world, or within their relationships, or what have you. Because rape. is. not. about. sex.

Does it seem at-odds now, then, that I'm so against the idea of having sex in my personal world, while still being a huge advocate for sex-positivity and a more positive image - generally speaking - of female sexuality as a collective?

Probably.

But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop advocating, or voicing my opinions, or expressing my views, on sexuality. It also doesn't mean I'm not going to get help, and get better, and exercise my right to have positive sexual experiences, as a woman, and as a gay woman, and as a gay woman who identifies as pansexual. It doesn't mean I'm not going to keep fighting to expose rape-culture, and rape-apology, and end rape in general.

Am I a hypocrite?

Perhaps.

But at least I'm a sexy one. Or I will be again, some day.


**Yes, I acknowledge the fact that men, too, are raped, and that women, too, do the raping. I will never invalidate someone's lived-experiences that way. I am simply speaking from my own personal perspective, since this particular blog is personal in nature, and it covers topics that are very personal for me, in my life.

The Ceaselessly Loaded Question Next Door.

*Note: I will be speaking mainly about heterosexual, cisgendered men for this.


Of course, it's no secret that I'm a sex-positive feminist. Today, I'd like to discuss a topic that is sex-related.

How many times in your life have you been asked, "Does size matter?"

I know that, in a lot of my blogs, I write a lot about my lesbianism and gay rights and the queer community, and whatnot, but I didn't always know for sure that I was totally gay. And I dated a few guys in my time, when I used to identify as bisexual. Not a single one of them didn't ask me some variation of that question posed above, or at least allude to it, in one way or another, implying that they wanted an honest answer.

Why are cis-men so obsessed with size? That is the age-old question. That is a question I've always wanted an honest answer to (and I think it's much more interesting/thought-provoking than whether or not size matters, frankly). It seems, in my experience, that men are more concerned with the size of their dicks than any women I've ever known are.

My ex-boyfriend let insecurities about his size not only interfere with his personal life and his perception of himself and his masculinity overall, but he even allowed all of that to put a damper on our sex life, all because he was so dissatisfied with his penis size. On several occasions, he even went so far as to apologize to me about it, like he'd done something wrong and hurt or offended me, all just because of his size. No matter how many times I tried to reassure him that there was nothing to be worried about, that he was stressing for no reason, that things were groovy as can be, he just flat-out refused to believe me. He insisted that I was just saying that because I loved him (what an asshole that'd make me), and projected onto me his own dissatisfaction with his size.

I can't even tell you how frustrating something like that can be, especially since I was definitely being sincere. I've even been known to say that I prefer it when they're on the smaller side (which is still true; I don't do big vibrators, either), but, still, it was fruitless in alleviating his doubt. As a fairly petite woman who is small in stature, I can definitely say that larger penises generally just tend to feel very uncomfortable and painful to me, or possibly even just to women with a similar body-type. There's pretty much no pain like having someone slam repeatedly into your cervix, while simultaneously being blissfully unaware of the blinding white-hot pain they're causing you.

How's that for a cis-female perspective on cock-size?

The simple truth is, gentlemen, that most women don't care about size. Or, if they do, they don't care about it in the way that you might think they do; I think more women agree with me on the size issue than with most men, who are obsessed with being larger. Believe me when I say this: It means a lot more to you than it does to her. The average penis size for an adult male is between five and five-and-a-half inches. The average depth of an adult female is about four to five inches. We are made to procreate, and we are made to fit together. Ergo, while a lot of men are worrying about their size, they are likely not considering the fact that an abnormally large penis could possibly be not only detrimental to their sex life as a whole, but dangerous for their partner. You could hurt her! You could tear her perineum, you could make her bleed, you could hinder her ability to reach orgasm because of her discomfort, and, overall, it just ends up being an ungratifying experience.

Women just simply don't go around searching for guys with huge dicks. That's not how it works, and I have to believe, deep down, that most men realize that. It's not a requirement for anybody. I ask men to think about it a little bit, from the flip-side: When you're confronted with sex with a woman, do you really care all that much about the size of her breasts? Whether or not her pussy is super-tight? If she has a huge ass, a tiny waist, the "ideal" hourglass figure? No. Not particularly. Because if you like her, and you're going to sleep with her, you're just glad to be taking part in it, and you can appreciate her for the beautiful body that she has, and enjoy yourself (while, hopefully, making sure she enjoys herself, too).

So why do you think she can't do the same?

I have a lot of thoughts about this. I could attribute it to the status of the male figure in society, and the fact that the male body and its penis is a symbol of power and dominance. Bigger is, naturally, better, right? It's a deeply-rooted, socially-ingrained thought-process.

Perhaps they've just watched way too much porn, and began to think that's how sex really is; that women scream unnecessarily loud and can effortlessly deep-throat a ten-inch rod of man-meat and lap up semen like it's hot fudge. (Hint: That's not how sex really is, and you'd be extremely surprised at how much porn is just good, ol'-fashioned camera tricks and other illusions; most of the "semen" in porn movies is just marzipan and water!)

And maybe, just maybe, some of these men have heard a very select few women discussing size, and heard them express a preference for larger penises, and carried that with them, dwelled on it, and started to beat themselves up about it.

Do not, under any circumstances, use those "male-enhancement" pills, creams, pumps, or anything else that is "guaranteed" to increase your size. Of all of these supposedly "clincal" methods, ZERO have been proven or verified as having even a modicum of effect! Please spare yourself the disappointment. Don't waste your time, money, or energy on things like that; especially when they could really just end up hurting you and damaging your health in some way.

Please don't waste your money on a penile extension/implant, either. They're not attractive, they are uncomfortable, they are unrealistic, and you are taking a serious risk in potentially losing your ability to function sexually.

Conclusively, I can only offer one final piece of advice: Be satisfied with your body, just the way it is, including your penis. Masculine is not what you're trying to be; it's what you are. Body-hate and body-negativity never accomplishes much, except perhaps damaging your self-esteem, and hindering your sexual freedom. Maybe permanently. Pertaining to the matter of size, I can guarantee you that you are most certainly your harshest critic. I am not a sex-expert, nor am I a psychologist, nor do I have the most sexual experience of all the people I know, but I can say that I've had enough sex to know this: Lovemaking is not about size. Your propensity to satisfy your partner, and your worth as a sexual being, is not determined by holding a ruler up against your shaft and seeing a double-digit, or even one crawling toward that side of the spectrum. It's about listening to your partner when they tell you what they do and do not like, and your willingness and enthusiasm for meeting their needs, whatever they happen to be. Sex is about mutual pleasure and satisfaction, fun, and, depending on your view of sex, love and trust. It is not a competition, it is not a power-struggle, and it is not a time to criticize and scrutinize every self-perceived flaw about your body, or your partner's. It's a time to celebrate each other. It's only about appreciation.

So let yourself appreciate it.

The (Disco) BLOODBATH Next Door.

Fair warning: I don't want to hear anything about how "gross" this is. It's not. It's NATURAL. It's a part of life. It's THE MOON. It's what we are, and it's a function of our stunning bodies. That's all there is to it. There is nothing "gross" about it, whatsoever. I hope some of you take as much comfort in that as I do.

Onward.

I will be discussing something kind of fun today. Well, it's fun for me. I can't speak on behalf of other female-bodied individuals, but this is a subject that I take a special brand of pleasure in discussing.

Menstruation!

When I was younger, I really used to hate it. Yes, I hated the debilitating cramps, the mood swings that made everyone around me call me "Sybil," and the crippling, blinding migraines. I hated crawling to the medicine cabinet to search frantically for Pamprin or aspirin or SOMETHING. I hated that I had to feel uncomfortable all day long for four days straight. I hated going to school when I was on my period, and participating in gym class. I hated that I had to be worried that someone would know I was bleeding. I hated the sucky fear of bleeding all over my clothes, and staining my pants, especially during the night. I hated everything associated with it.

And now, more than anything, I simply hate the social stigma attached to it.

I'll admit that, yes, I still get headaches and cramps and mood swings. I still feel uncomfortable and bloated. I still like to be alone (or exclusively with other women) when I'm bleeding, and I still like to binge on chocolate and watch the moon and demand absolutely nothing from myself, or any other woman. But, now that I'm older and I'm so much more in-tune with my feminist side, I will admit that it holds a certain charm for me. I can't say I look forward to all the icky stuff that comes with it, but I don't dread it anymore, either. Sometimes, I even stand in the shower and just watch the blood run down my legs and into the drain. Just because I can. Because it's undeniably feminine. And it's power. That's certainly not meant as a dig to exclude my transgendered sisters, either, to invalidate their feminine qualities or their womanhood, or to say that having your period is what makes one a woman, or even feminine. It's just something that I think of as another facet of my own personal femininity, and the power OF that femininity. After all, it's something natural and healthy, and it can make grown men cower and grimace, because it's been long-stigmatized by society's cuntfear. So, yes, that's pretty powerful to me.

Anyway.

Now that I've gushed a little bit (no pun intended), I'd like to talk a little bit about commercially-produced menstruation products, and birth control pills/patches/shots/what have you, as many brands affect one's monthly cycle, these days, and why it's important for women to avoid them as much as you can, if you can.

Mass-produced menstrual products are three things: They're bad for the Earth, they're bad for your body, and they contain chemicals and other noxious elements which are incredibly harsh on some of the most sensitive skin you possess. When using tampons, especially, think about the function of a tampon: It is inserted into your vagina, and it is used to absorb your flow. Now, think about this: It is ALSO absorbing all of your natural lubrication! And that is why women have come up with Toxic Shock Syndrome. When your natural lubrication is absorbed completely, the area, obviously, becomes quite dry; it's an area that is not meant to be dried out like that. When the area becomes dry, and you stuff another wad of cotton up there, it's going to cause hairline wounds. When hairline wounds are present, bacteria has the propensity to seep inside of them. When bacteria seeps inside of them, and it's harmful bacteria, you get an infection you can't even feel. Next thing you know, you're waking up in the emergency room because you passed out, and you're recovering from a near-death experience! And that's only if you're lucky enough to have caught it in time.

Pads aren't much better, as they still contain chemicals, harsh perfumes, and the cotton is stiff and dry. (And, seriously, what's the deal with them constantly shifting and feeling incredibly bulky and flat-out scootching up one's ass?) Anyone who has ever worn one knows how uncomfortable and annoying they are.

Birth control is a seriously poor solution, too. We're forced, day in and day out, to watch these commercials with conventionally-beautiful, racially-ambiguous, smiling women who are raving about "four periods a year!" and what a good thing it is to be on the pill, in favor of only having to endure four periods a year. What's so good about that? I don't see anything positive about repressing your body's functions. I'm supposed to be impressed that one can take this pill that shortens your periods and/or represses them completely, while simultaneously augmenting the potential for heart attacks, strokes, blood-clots, and other extremely harmful conditions? All of these things can lead to death. And birth control of all kinds have taken the lives of women. Women are supposed to seriously endanger their lives for shorter, more infrequent periods and so their boyfriends don't have to wear a condom (which will NOT endanger his life in any way, shape, or form, provided that he isn't allergic)?

Oh, the world we live in.

There's also the undeniable fact that the overwhelming majority of ALL of these products - both menstruation products and birth control alike - are produced, managed, marketed, and developed by men.

By men. For women.

By men. FOR women.

Yeah. There's something wrong with that picture.

So, you may be thinking, "What am I supposed to do, then? I kinda don't want to bleed all over and inside my clothes."

Never fear - the period fairy (that'd be me) is here!

Several months ago, I switched to Lunapads. Lunapads is a company that is founded and run by women. They are reusable, washable maxi-pads and panty-liners that clasp around your underwear like a store-bought maxi with wings would, and you simply change the liner and wash it when needed. The cotton is breathable and organic, and it honestly doesn't feel to me like I'm wearing anything but my panties when I'm wearing them. They're safe, free of chemicals, and I've had better luck not bleeding over the sides and staining my underwear when I wear them. They come in all sizes, so if you're a small girl, you can find something to fit your body, and if you're a larger woman, they make products with you and your needs in mind, too. They also last for at least five years, though I'm sure you could use them for longer, depending on your flow and how light or heavy your periods tend to be.

I am fully aware that some women don't like to wear maxi-pads, and just feel a little squicked out by the thought of bleeding onto something, and I totally understand that. It's a matter of preference for all of us. The wonderful thing is, there are options out there for tampon-wearers, too (or for those, like myself, who like to alternate).

While I haven't personally used one yet, but I've heard a lot of great testimonials about the MoonCup/DivaCup (also founded and run by women). It is a small, hospital-grade silicon cup that you can insert inside of you, like a tampon, and it fits over your cervix to catch your flow; they come in two sizes - one for those who have given birth, and one for those who haven't. It also lasts for five (or more) years. I hear it holds about an ounce of fluid, which is actually quite a lot, since most of us only bleed about three or four ounces throughout our entire period. I have been looking into getting one, for when I leave the house, so I can stop using disposables completely. There are other, similar products on the web, as well.

I also hear some women use sea-sponges in place of tampons, and that they work quite well, with the only con being that when they get full, they... uh. Leak. A little bit. But that shouldn't be too much of a concern if you rinse/change it often. I also wouldn't personally endorse the use of these, as I am a vegan, but I know some women aren't bothered by it, so I say this: You gotta do what you gotta do.

As a final thought: I know some of these things may seem a little expensive, but if you do the math, I think you'll realize that it's a wise investment, in the long run. And I also implore you to consider the fact that you are saving the environment by reducing your impact on it in using products like these. Money can't buy that! Even if you just use these products at home, and disposables when you go out (which is somewhat along the lines of what I've been doing, but I use disposables as little as possible, which is almost never, now), you're still saving money and saving the Earth. You can find breathable, unbleached, organic cotton disposables in most natural/health food stores. And, of course, if you DO end up buying these, and have disposables left over that you don't plan on using, you can donate them to a women's shelter, or to a relief organization to give to women in third-world countries. Most of those women have absolutely nothing, and a lot of people forget that they, too, have periods each month. They always, always, always appreciate stuff like that.

I'd now like to provide some links to these wonderful, women-run and women-owned companies that offer such products, and I really hope it helps anyone who was curious.

http://lunapads.com/

http://www.gladrags.com/

http://www.nurturedfamily.com/cloth-menstrual-pads.aspx

http://www.divacup.com/

http://www.mooncup.co.uk/

http://www.keeper.com/

http://www.seapearls.co.uk/history.php

The Double-Ended Debate Next Door.

(May possibly be triggering.)



There's a very strange conflict I have with myself when I think about censorship, especially when I view the world under a feminist lens. My last blog got me thinking about it, and I figured that I might as well put my thoughts down here.

Permit me to elaborate.

There's a lot of censorship that really pisses me off. I don't like it when people act like saying "fuck," or whatever, is worse than doing something really horrible, like protesting someone's funeral, or beating someone to a pulp for their sexuality/gender-identity/lifestyle choices/what have you. It's always made me seriously bitter to see (some) Christians who have the audacity to get offended by words that have long been deemed "swear" words, whilst simultaneously banishing half the population of America to hell, for one facet of their existence or another.

To this day, I wonder who decided this. Let's give an example.

Let's take the words "shit," and "crap."

When you say, "Oh, crap!" or, "That's crap," it is safe and acceptable. But when you replace "crap" with "shit," it suddenly becomes profane and displeasing. They both mean virtually the same thing, but, suddenly, using "shit" makes the entire phrase ostentatious. It is suddenly obscene. Why are only certain words this way? I can say some guy caught his penis in his fly, and that's cool, but if I said, "Wow, that guy's cock now has more teeth than Jaws," someone would likely get offended by my pithy choice of phrase. Penis and dick and cock. Vulva and cunt and pussy. Screw and fuck. Darn and damn. Butt and ass. Heck and hell. Breasts and tits. I will probably never be able to figure out why one is profane, and the other is not. That type of censorship annoys me, because I don't see any sort of real, logical need for it, and I like to think I have a fairly logical mind.

However, I harbor a few opinions about censorship that are probably very at-odds with the above statements.

I snapped at my brother, one time, because he was talking to my mother about... I don't know. Taxes. Insurance. Something of that nature. And he said something along the lines of, "Yeah, they're really raping me on that shit."

Raping me.

My head snapped toward him at the speed of light, and I took a good five-to-ten seconds to breathe and calm down before I slowly said, "Excuse me. That's inappropriate." I didn't get a reply. And I didn't really expect one.

I've been very open about my rape, for a variety of reasons. Mainly because I need to be. I need to help other women (and men) who have been raped, but I also feel like I need to be a voice for women who have survived aquaintance-rape, like I have. It's hard to explain, but I've always thought that I could've processed and dealt with my rape a lot easier, had I not known and trusted and loved him the way I did. You just kind of lose a lot of your innocence when you've been raped by your best friend. That is not to say, in any way, that those who have been raped by strangers have it easier than I do. I'm merely musing/reflecting on my own experience and my own thoughts about it, specifically. No one else's.

I digress.

My brother is certainly not the only person I've ever heard say something like that, in that same vein. "Dude, that traffic ticket raped my wallet," or, "I got raped playing Halo," or, "That Physics test really raped me in the ass." That shit is absolutely inexcusable, to me. So am I a hypocrite? Is it wrong for me to be against censorship, while, at the same time, being totally affronted by the (in my opinion) erroneous use of words like "rape?" Is it completely off-base for me to strongly believe that people can find other ways of expressing themselves in situations like that, rather than to use the word rape? I know some of them obviously think they're being edgy, and funny, but I'm a rape-survivor. And I can say right now that it is most certainly not funny to someone who has been raped.

It's along the lines of what I said in my last blog, about word choice and pejorative terms, and to think about whether what you're saying is malicious or celebratory.

And then I have conflict. Because anyone could say the same thing to me. Do I need to swear in order to get my point across? Do I need to be profane to express myself? Do I need to casually use words that offend the sensibilities of others in my day-to-day life?

I think I've figured out what the difference is.

When I say those perceived "swear" words, I'm not sequestering a select group of individuals and using words that add to their inferiority and marginalization in the world.

When I say, "Fuck, it's hot today," I'm not trivializing someone's lived-experiences, the way saying, "Wow, this heat is raping the top of my head today," would. See how easy that was to switch up?

When I say, "That shit is really lame," I'm not adding to the marginalization of an entire lot of people, the way saying, "That was really gay," would. Gee, that one put a bounce in my step, just now, what with its simplicity, and all.

You get the point.

I don't expect anyone to censor themselves around me, and I certainly wouldn't want to dwarf anyone's natural self-expression. I'm not here to police anybody. It may seem like I'm being overly sensitive, but I don't believe I am. Censorship is not what I'm about at all. I believe in speaking your mind, and speaking freely about what's in your spirit, and heart. But I do think there's a difference between what's appropriate and what is not; what people perceive as "offensive" because they're told to be offended by it, that it's perverse and obscene, and what I (and possibly others) perceive as offensive because it actually is offensive, and it does offend me, down to my core, in an assortment of manners.

I can only reiterate this: Think about your word choices. Do you say words like "rape" casually because you're trying to be funny? Or perhaps because your friends use it in such a context? Rape is not funny. Rape is a horrible, terrifying, debilitating, traumatic, life-altering, humiliating, dehumanizing experience for a lot of people in this world, myself included. Please stop mocking and trivializing the experience of being raped. It hurts too much. There are so many other words you could use other than "rape."

If you need a list, I'd be delighted to provide one.

The FaggotCuntBitchSlutDyke Next Door.

"Actions speak louder than words."

Today, my little snarklings, I'd like to talk a little bit about the phenomenon of re-claiming words.

The above adage is something I've thought a lot about. For years, even. And I've come to realize that I completely disagree with it. I will agree that it can be applied to some situations, sometimes, but I could never, ever use it as personal motto, or something.

As a writer, I believe words can do anything. Words have immeasurable power. Words can part lakes, words can put knob-dial TVs on the trunks of elephants, they can enable humans to eat Fritos with their nostrils and time-travel and communicate fluidly with sea monkeys and drive a car with their frickin' feet, words can move mountains, and words can lasso the moon for love. They can conjure up images on the backs of your eyelids, like your own personal movie theater. They can harm you, cut you to your core, they can make you laugh, they can make you feel loved and hated, they can make you hot with anger, they can make you smile, they can excite you and crush your dreams and invoke fear, they can move you to tears, they can sadden you to the point of tears, they can even make you go completely numb and silent, among a multitude of other emotions and other whatnots.

Why do I see the word "faggot" constantly being used so maliciously, and with such alarming frequency, on the Internet? And in everday life, too, you could say. Someone just called me a faggot on a music forum (of all places) for seemingly no reason at all. I bristled. It brought me here. Along with that, I often see "that's gay" used very frequently and casually, as well. And if there's anything I hate as much as casual sexism, it's casual homophobia. Along with casual racism, ableism, cisgenderism, classism, and, well... all manner of ilk and "-isms."

Over the years, I've had a lot of people accuse me of being a hypocrite, because I often identify as a dyke, but I don't like seeing/hearing people calling other people faggots with palpable malicious intent. I have no problem being called a lesbian, either (even though I'm a pansexual-identified lesbian, and I'm cool with being called "queer," too), but I like saying the word "dyke," and it's always felt very empowering to me to identify as such. The only thing I don't think these people understand is that the fashion in which I'm using the word "dyke" is not derogatory, but celebratory, and I would never, ever, ever call someone a dyke who didn't like being called a dyke, or found it offensive, or what have you. I refer to myself as a dyke because I don't believe it's a bad thing to be a dyke.

And that's the difference, darlings. That's the big, big difference.

A few years ago, young and aggressive and full of feminist bravado, I used to identify as a cunt, almost exclusively. I knew no one could ever touch me if I referred to myself as one of the most derogatory terms for women known to humankind, and if I stripped away its negative connotations and re-defined it, for myself, as something positive - a woman who is strong and healthy and confident and unbreakable, instead of a woman who is horrible and naggy and needlessly argumentative and just an overall unsavory character - naturally, I couldn't be offended ever again by anything anyone would ever call me, with intent to harm. I now realize the error of my ways, and I no longer refer to myself as a cunt, but I do still use the word positively, even now, and I will admit that I have fun educating others about its history, and its true meaning.

According to Wikipedia, the phrase "that's gay" has officially come to mean that something is lame, or stupid. Sometimes I just have to sit back and wonder how it came to this. People have said to me, "But lots of words evolve to mean things other than their original meaning. Wicked means 'cool,' whereas it used to mean 'horrible.'"

Yes. However, saying something is "wicked" doesn't isolate a group composed of people who are already oppressed in society, and impede on the universal acceptance of said people. Especially when taking under consideration the fact that, that's what they think of us; to be gay is to be lame and stupid, or just something that you just generally have a distaste for. Not to mention that you have forcibly evolved the phrase to take on such a meaning. Same as faggot, right? It used to mean a bundle of sticks, and is now a derogatory phrase for a gay man. Worse than that, it is a phrase that is used in an attempt to feminize a straight man. And, thus, we come back to the beginning - that the worst insult of all for (cisgendered, straight) men is to be feminized. Called a faggot or a girl.

When I was a little girl, and I heard boys telling other boys to "stop being such a girl," I remember, even then, feeling the sting. Maybe not knowing exactly why, but knowing this: To a boy, being told he's acting like a girl is being told he needs to try harder.

To a girl, hearing a boy telling another boy not to be a girl is hearing that you will never be good enough.

As I said, I don't mind being called, or identifying as, a dyke. Would I be pissed off if a straight person called me a dyke with baleful intentions attached to it? You can bet your sweet, deep-fried ass I would. Because it's not up to the kyriarchy to decide, anymore. It's not up to them to perpetuate the negativity associated with those words. It's not up to them to call someone a bitch, cunt, faggot, slut, dyke, fatass, whore, nigger, et cetera, et cetera, with full intentions of keeping them firmly in the "oppressed" zone.

My reaction to the word "faggot" is wretched and all-too-visceral. If a gay/bisexual/pansexual/queer man wants to re-claim the word faggot and use it to describe himself in a beneficial way, stripping it of its negative connotations, that's his choice, and I have absolutely no problem with that. But for straight (probably closeted) people to have the astonishing, unfathomable gall to use it, not only to offend gay people, but to feminize other straight men in the attempt to insult them to the fullest degree BY using feminization as their method, it just... gets my hackles up. No matter what. Sorry if not everyone thinks you're as HIGH-larious as you do.

It's occurred to me several times in recent days that I am a minority in a variety of ways. Some of them are by choice, some of them are not. I'm a woman, I'm a dyke, I'm a vegan, I'm a witch/Wiccan, I'm an Atheist. I'm also hyper-aware of my privileges, almost to a fault. My white privilege, my able-bodied privilege, my neurotypical privilege, my cisgendered privilege, my working/middle-class privilege... probably others I'm not even remembering, on both ends. I have the tendency to make myself feel guilty about the amount of privilege in my life, because why do I get to be lucky in these ways? I often get angry, and wonder who decides these things. In reality, though, I also realize this - I'm lucky. I was born into this luck, just because of the way things are in our culture. I don't like it this way. But these things are beyond my control. Unlike some of my oppressions, I have no say in any of this, because if I did, I wouldn't have to write blogs like this one.

Furthermore, I don't need to be insulted by the privilege-blind shitheads of the Internet. Neither does anyone else.

All I can ask for is this: Think about what you say before you say it. Think about why you're using these words. Is it to seem cool? Charming? Funny? Unnecessarily mean? Or are you celebrating the individual about whom you speak? Think about who you might be offending and/or oppressing when you do this. Think about your addition to the perpetuation of negative energy in our world, and if that's really the message you want to get across.

Personally, I can take comfort in the fact that love is worlds more powerful than hate.

The Whiny-Ass Feminist Next Door.

Since I started this blog, I do think I've done a fairly good job with confining the topics of this blog to the subject at hand - feminism and/or equalism, and I've definitely tried to keep the topics interesting and give my readers (if I even have any) a colorful array of diverse topics and personal opinions to mull over. However, at the end of the day, this is still my blog, and as I stated from the beginning: I reserve the right to whine when I need to whine. Today, I need to whine.

So, in lieu of this, we're going to play a little game called "Let's Talk About Me Now."

I'm going to be talking a little bit about my girlfriend, but for the sake of identity-protection, we'll go ahead and refer to her as "Corinne" for this blog. As for my boyfriend, we'll call him "Oliver" today.

As I've mentioned before - but will again, for clarity's sake - I'm a lesbian, but I like to identify as pan/omnisexual, or simply "queer," if I don't feel like explaining what pansexuality is. Basically, primarily, I'm interested in romantic, sexual, and emotional involvement with cis-women. However, because I feel, for me personally, that it's rude, unfair, and marginalizing to confine love to one sex or gender-identity, I'm open to loving/dating anyone, regardless of sex or gender-identity. This means that I'm comfortable having relationships with cis-men, and trannies, and genderqueers, and intersex individuals, and... well, anyone else, with any sexual or gender-identity. I'm not allowed to tell people how to identify, and I'm not allowed to dwarf anyone's identity or disregard their gender-fluidity. Gender is a mental-construct that can be expressed in countless, countless ways. And I'm certainly not going to place limitations on something that's meant to be beautiful and boundless; love.

So, Corinne came upon the realization recently that, in this area, she's like I am; a lesbian who identifies as queer. She recently came out to her mom, and it didn't go very well. Out of deference to her, I'm going to leave out the gory details, but something her mother said to has been reeeeealllllly bothering me, since she told me about it. Corinne's mother told her that she was being disrespectful to gay people who have come before her, who fought for the sexual freedom we now have, because she's identifying as a lesbian whilst still having a boyfriend (we're poly, to be clear; she's polyamorous, and I'm polyfidelitous in the sense that I don't date other people outside of Oliver and Corinne).

Ever since then, I've felt really guilty.

When I began having a relationship with Oliver, I'll admit that I felt like my sense of self got skewed, slightly. I hadn't had a boyfriend since high school, when I was still slightly confused and thought I was bisexual, and I hadn't really intended on having another boyfriend, because, as I mentioned, in my mental-forefront, I am a lesbian. I soon realized that it was senseless to dwell on the fact that he's a cis-man, because that's exactly why I'm pansexual - because I want to be open to loving anyone, because everyone deserves to have the opportunity to be loved, love is as free and boundless as my spirit. However, my pansexuality is still a choice. My lesbianism is not. So it took a little time for me to adjust, mentally, to dating Oliver, but I was easily able to thrust all of those notions out of my head when I remembered that I didn't fall in love with him because of what he is, but who he is, on the inside.

What makes me feel guilty, is the fact that I have an open-minded, progressive parent, who will never judge me, or accuse me baselessly of being disrespectful to anyone based on who I love, and who will always love me, no matter what happens with my love life. It makes me feel guilty that I'm... lucky, if that makes sense. That I never have to face the opposition that Corinne is currently facing with her mom. It makes me feel guilty that I have the privilege of having a true save haven in a parent like that.

And now... I just don't know how to alleviate that guilt.

The "Sex For One" Study Next Door.

Oh, blog. It has certainly been a while.

Today, I'd like to briefly discuss pro-sex feminism, and a study I would like to conduct related to it, which I would eventually like to compile into a non-fiction book, with my own thoughts and opinions on the matter, as well as the opinions and thoughts of other pro-sex feminists.

But I'm jumping the gun a little, here.

A little background.

Second-wave feminism was very anti-sex, and that leg of the movement is somewhat responsible for the labeling of modern feminists as prudes today, but the simple fact of the matter is that this couldn't be further from the truth. I know there are still feminists today who are very anti-sex, anti-prostitution, and anti-pornography, but I do believe that the pro-sex feminist movement is much, much more prevalent today than the anti-sex one is. I have every reason to believe that anti-sex "feminism" is slowly dying off. I foresee a more in-depth blog in the future about sex-positive feminism soon. For now, I'll just say a few things.

I consider myself a pro-sex/sex-positive feminist. After I came to terms with being raped this year, I will admit that my personal attitudes toward sex have changed a lot (I have no interest in engaging in casual sex, for instance). My overall opinions on the ways in which people conduct their sex lives, however, have not. In a nutshell, it's this - stop judging people based on what they do in bed. It's none of your concern. If you don't like the idea of casual sex, that's great - for you. But if another woman DOES engage in casual sex, you have no right to call her a slut, or judge her for being promiscuous, or paint her as a bad person, while painting yourself as a good person for not taking that route. People are people. They're going to do what they're going to do, and they are entitled to live their lives the way they see fit. A woman should never be judged, called names, branded as a slut, or otherwise demonized for having her own set of sexual priorities. And don't even get me started on sex-workers and porn. That's definitely, deeeeefinitely another blog.

That said, the study I want to conduct isn't about sex, per se, but, rather, human masturbation habits.

We live in a world where masturbation is still incredibly taboo, and, honestly, I fail to see why that is. Well, actually, I know exactly why that is: It's long been demonized by religion and its rigid moral codes. Masturbation is one of the first things most people do sexually, and as soon as we begin to figure out what it is, it turns into a source of shame, because we're told how wrong, or immoral, or evil, or disgusting it is. Then, we get embarrassed to talk about it. We stop embracing it. We feel humiliated when it comes up. Yet we ALL do it, or have done it, at one point or another. I doubt there's any one person who has never done it, or never will.

Besides being the ultimate safe sex, it's incredibly healthy to masturbate. It teaches you how to be more in-tune with your body, your sexual likes and dislikes, what feels good, what doesn't feel good, techniques you like, techniques you don't like, and a long list of other things. Not to mention, it's a wonderful, natural stress reliever - all that icky stuff and stress and tension is released when we have an orgasm, which is why we sometimes feel a lot lighter and happier after we do.

I want to interview people from all walks of life for this. I want to talk to people of all ages (no one under the legal age of consent, though - not willing to get arrested in the pursuit of satisfying my curiosities), all racial backgrounds, all religious affiliations, all gender-identities, all sexual orientations, and people of both monogamous and poly lifestyles, even all nationalities, if I can find people of other nationalities in America, among other differing attributes. I want to ask about techniques used, duration, frequency (once a day, twice a week, once a month, etc.), and my boyfriend brought up a valid point about circumcision, too, which I thought was fabulous, as I know it can affect technique (I'd also love to have a conversation with anyone who has fallen victim to female circumcision, actually, because I'm insanely curious as to how it can affect one's sex life, but especially masturbation technique, in the interest of the study). Which also makes me question whether or not I should ask women if they have vaginal orgasms, clitoral orgasms, both, or none at all. (Which is a such a crime!)

The idea was spawned from a conversation I was having with my girlfriend about differing masturbation habits among the people we've known. I've known women who have used toothpaste, electrical toothbrushes, hairbrushes, broom handles, even scissor handles (!), along with the vast array of sex toys available in sex shops, among many other techniques that I'm probably not even remembering. I've known men who have progressed to the point of gripping so tightly during masturbation that they can't have an orgasm during actual sex, who would lie face-down and knuckle their shafts, who have also used toys and prostate stimulation, and various other techniques, as well.

I'd be more than willing to share my masturbation habits with anyone who is uncomfortable talking about it, because I don't feel ashamed of doing it. I don't think ANYONE should feel ashamed of doing it. I even think it's sad that people DO still feel ashamed of doing it. I think it's criminal that there are people who are so ashamed of doing it, that they don't do it. Why is it that most of us can do it, but we're supposed to feel ashamed of talking about it? We all eat, too, but no one is ashamed of talking about this new recipe they just whipped up, or this awesome restaurant they went to last Friday, or their favorite show on the Food Network, or this incredible cake they just wolfed down not ten minutes ago.

I really want to conduct the study of various human masturbation habits in the interest of science. It's not meant to be dirty, or crude, or voyeuristic, or perverted. The point of this is not to make anyone feel embarrassed, or that their privacy is being invaded. I'll be more than willing to let people remain anonymous if they wish. I expect to get cursed at, yelled at, and I expect people to refuse to talk about it. But the point of this is to engage conversation about it, and prompt further discussion. To test social- and religious-boundaries. To break the taboo. To cast away the stigma. To put an end to the shame we're all conditioned to feel about it. To embrace, and love, self-love.

If anyone out there is interested in participating, please feel free to contact me and let me know. Or, if you're a pro-sex/sex-positive feminist and would like to contribute your thoughts (with full credit, of course), or if you have any questions about pro-sex feminism, masturbation, or anything else related to any of these subjects I've covered, you can email me at RavenByDay@aol.com.

The Everlasting Acrimony Next Door.

There's a devastating reality in cultures all over this wonderful, immense world and in all its history that is so tired, so frustrating, so sickening, yet so constant and prevalent that I could just scream whilst simultaneously scooping my eyes out with a buttered melon-baller: The seemingly intrinsic acrimony between women.

I've never had a sister, so I've never experienced the brand of callous, catty, competitive, manipulative, unspoken but quite rampant combat that often takes place between girls growing up together (based entirely on what I've witnessed by having friends who did grow up with a sister or three). That's certainly not to say I haven't had such attitudes foisted upon me by other girls and grown women who have entered - and, generally, subsequently, and with astonishing ease, floated out and away from - my life. And, as women, we're always expected to take part, even if we're pulled into it through no want or fault of our own. There must be something wrong with us if we don't want to undercut another woman and assert ourselves as "better" than she is in some way; as thinner, or more beautiful, or more successful, or more apt to land a boyfriend, or in possession of the most expensive things, or possess the ability to garner male attention with the most ease, and my list could go on and on from there. Women are supposed to behave that way toward other women; to be jealous, and spiteful, and manipulative, and catty. But why?

Has anyone ever asked why?

The obvious answer would be this: We live in a society where treating women badly, and as "less than," is not only common, but acceptable. There aren't many people who think twice about doing it, and there are a lot of people who claim to be feminists, or who claim to love women, and they are just as guilty of falling into the same mentalities and negative patterns as everybody else.

Modern women in cultures (other than Western culture) around the world have such a stronger sense of unity than American/Western women do. They're used to being beaten, raped, mutilated, and controlled by the men in their lives. And they stick together because of it; they help each other, and take care of each other, and stand up for each other, and protect each other, without so much as asking for anything in return. There's a sense of sisterhood, a sense of community, harmony, and an unbreakable bond between them that women in America could only dream of having with other women; and we should be dreaming of it. We should be trying to achieve it, and striving for it, with the other women in our lives. In this country, women don't seem to like each other much. In our culture, if people see two women who are close, and loving, and friendly, and supportive, and non-competitive in nature, and giving, and protective, and sincere, who care about each other to the fullest extent, their first thought is that these women are lesbians. Because two women can't possibly love each other unconditionally without some sort of sexual or romantic involvement, right? That's practically unheard of in this corner of the world.

It's difficult for women who have always been under the influence of society's shit-ass thumb to understand and confront the insidious nature of the acriomony many of us continue to perpetuate in our own personal relationships with other women. Harboring jealousy, competitiveness, paranoia, and cattiness toward each other is something we learn and are socialized with; not something that is inborn. But it seems that way, because we're constantly coerced and goaded into such behavior, whether it be from men, from other women, or from society and the media as a collective.

It's easy for me to look at other women in this culture, and in this day in age, and wonder if these women have ever heard of self-esteem. Think about how all the women you know, and how many of those women like themselves just the way they are, warts 'n all. Now, I'll bet if you round up every woman you know, that number of women who like themselves the way they are will fall somewhere in the point-five percentile.

I think that's probably the biggest problem here.

Women seemingly project the things they don't like about themselves and their lives onto other women on a perpetual and continuous basis. Figuring out what we don't like about ourselves always seems to work on such a grand scale. We don't like our bodies, because we're told that beauty lies in a size two pants size. That curvy women are only sexy and beautiful and acceptable if they're curvy in all the "right" places. Our faces always need to be lifted; our wrinkles gone. We need makeup and cold creams to cover up our perceived imperfections. We need to pay hundreds of thousands of dollars to a surgeon to mutilate us, of our own free will, in the pursuit of achieving some impossible standard of airbrushed beauty.

So we judge each other, and hurt each other, and gossip about each other, and make catty remarks toward each other, and constantly degrade ourselves and insult each other by harboring so much unnecessary hate.

Has anyone ever considered that hating another woman (or any human being, for that matter) is about as productive as hating yourself?

It all, all, all, all, all, all, all, all, all, all, all, all, all, all, all, ALL stems from an innate patriarchal fear and hatred of women; of the power we could gain if we were allotted the opportunity to love each other. To stop declaring war on each other, and hating each other, and to find it in ourselves to form that special bond and sisterhood we are so capable of having, if we'd only try. If we'd stop allowing men and society to influence our feelings about ourselves and each other. If we could look at another woman and appreciate her, rather than tearing her down to shreds for what she has, and what she's done. If we could live our lives the way we'd like to live them, and look in the mirror right after a shower, bare and natural, and say, "Yes, I'm a woman, and yes, I am beautiful just this way, and yes, I am strong and vital, and no, I'm not going to let anyone tell me otherwise."

If everyone could do that, we may just be able to end this war for good.

The Deconstruction of Rigid Gender Roles Next Door.

Something I see a lot of when I come across videos, articles, Internet comments, or even just talking to certain men when discussing the ideals behind feminism, is that a lot of men (and, unless I specify otherwise, "men," or any variants thereof, in this blog, will refer to those who are heterosexual, cisgendered men) seem to separate the world into two groups of people: straight women, and straight men. It's literally as if everyone else does not exist.

The reason I say that is because there are a few issues that come up, almost without fail, when you're discussing feminism with a man who does not identify as a feminist; children, marriage, and the "family unit." And, more often than not, when men bring these things up in the middle of a discussion about feminism, it's generally to blame feminists for the destruction of those things.

I once had a man tell me that feminists should not be encouraging women not to have children, because, as he so eloquently put it, "Bearing a child is one of the few life-experiences that is completely unique to being a woman."

Yeah. Stop right there, Sparky.

Barring the known fact that there are countless children out there already who are, for all intents and purposes, orphans, whose parents either abandoned them, couldn't care for them, or flat-out didn't want them, or what have you, there is just so much wrong with that statement, my head wants to implode. Effective immediately.

First and foremost, by making a blanket statement like that, you're placing all women into a tidy little box of heterosexuality and heteronormativity. As much as you'd like to believe it's so, there are many, many women out there whose lives don't revolve around dick, who don't date men, who are homosexual and homoromantic, who have no intentions of marrying a man, and who certainly don't want to go through the process of having sex with one, for the purpose of poppin' out a kid. Of course, I'm fully aware that there are options if you are a lesbian and you do want children (artificial insemination, surrogacy, et cetera), and if you are a lesbian and you do want to have a child, I'm very glad those options are available to you. However, the fact is this: A very decent percentage of women out there are - in fact - big, fat dykes. There are also many individuals in the world who were born biologically female, but are not female-identified. There are many individuals in the world who were born biologically male, and are not male-identified. And - this may come as a shock, so get a firm hold on your armrests for this one - there are actually women out there who don't identify as feminists, are heterosexual, and still have no interest in motherhood, or even marriage.

Secondly, I'd like to point out that not all women are physically able to have children, even if they want to. I'm of the belief that I have endometriosis. If I do, there's a very good chance that I'm infertile. So you're fucking telling me that, since I can't have a baby, even if I actually wanted to, I'm not a woman? There are alarming numbers of women who are infertile, for various reasons. There are men who are infertile, too, for various reasons.

By claiming that women need to have children in order to accrue an integral portion of our womanhood that we'd otherwise be missing forever, you're essentially invalidating the womanhood of women who can't bear children. You're telling any woman who can't have a child that she is no longer a woman. You're insisting that any woman who is in favor of adopting one (or more) of those countless parentless children we mentioned earlier, rather than bearing them, isn't a real woman. You're invalidating the womanhood of, and adding to the marginalization of women who simply have never had any intentions of being a parent, or a mother-figure, or a wife, and you're perpetuating the belief that feminism is the reason for all of this.

And that is just not. fucking. cool. It's okay that you have/want to have kids. It's okay that you're married/want to get married. It's even okay if your wife wants to have kids with you. But it is not okay to say that everyone has to follow the same paths you have in order to "earn" their humanity, or that all women need to follow the same life-outline that your wife has in order to "earn" some part of their womanhood.

Because I've already discussed marriage and my feelings on it, we'll just stick a pin in that for now (though I'm SURE it'll come up again, some time), and move onto the "destruction of the family unit."

One of the most prevalent methods of debate when it comes to feminism is that there is a massive plight on the families of our culture, and a destruction of "the family unit," and that there are more single mothers now than there ever have been before; that children are so screwed up because they're being raised in fatherless homes.

I'd like to know where this bizarre definition of "family" came from.

Why is it that there seems to now be this widespread belief that a family is not a real family if there is no father-figure? As far as I've always known, a family is a close-knit group of individuals who share a tight bond and a sense of love. Your friends can be family. Some of us are closer to our friends than those in our bloodline. And as someone who spent her teen years in a fatherless home, I find it beyond insulting that my brother and I are considered "broken," because we lost our father when we were young, and thus, are "products of a fatherless home" out of shitty circumstance. My mom had priorities other than running out and getting re-married, so does that make her a bad person? An unfit mother? Someone who has contributed to this so-called "destruction" of the "family unit?" Because I fail to see how that is. Her husband died. She had no control over it. She had no intentions of finding a "replacement" because she never felt like there could ever be one. But the details, those aren't important; she's just a single mother to the world. One person shoved into the myriads of statistics about fatherless homes and single mothers.

Not to mention, once again, not everyone is straight. Not all mothers are straight mothers, and lesbian mothers have no place in their "family-unit" for a man. So I suppose they're bad people, too. I suppose their children will be violent, lawless, fucked-up, obstinate drains on society because, obviously, there's no dick in the equation, and thus, your family is not a real family, and women can't properly raise children to be decent human beings without a some sort of male involvement or influence.

And let's not forget that there are a LOT of men who fuck women, get them pregnant, and leave them to deal with it on their own. If a woman doesn't want to get an abortion, and doesn't necessarily want to give her child up for adoption, she isn't left with much choice, is she? Because if a woman has a baby and is out all the time trolling for men, she'll be a bad mother. But if she raises her kid without a father, she's a bad mother. That situation is pretty much a no-win for a woman. And what gets me about that? A man who raises a child on his own is NEVER a bad father. He's a great father, even! A noble human being who is doing something so courageous and beautiful and commendable. His children will never be considered abusive, emotionally-void, disturbed people because they didn't have the sense of nurturing that mothers are famous for giving. No, their father is a brilliant, altruistic, selfless, amazing parent!

What a crock of shit.

Also, I'd like to point out that the same people who argue that "fatherless homes" are the reason for the destruction of families, and that our upcoming generations are destined for failure because of that, are the same people who believe women should be stay-at-home mothers, housewives, and the primary caregivers to the children. So... you argue that children need fathers, and then turn around and say that the women need to be the ones to actually take care of the children, and do most of the work raising the children, while you're out being the breadwinner, and, occasionally, the disciplinary? Because women can't work, AND raise their children to be decent people, AND discipline them properly when they need it? I know it's certainly easier to share the workload, and I am, by no means, saying it's easy to be a parent, even in a family with two parents, but that certainly doesn't mean women are incapable of being good parents, even on their own.

What is this? What the fuck, people? Why is everything in this culture subjected to rigid, unrealistic gender roles, and subjugated under heteronormative discourse? I can't be the only one who is tired of this.

And these are the types of attitudes that just remind me, on a daily basis, how much sexism there still is in this culture, and how much we truly do need feminism.

The Out 'n Proud Homo Next Door.

I realize that a lot of my posts have been about sexuality recently, and anyone who's reading this may be thinking that this is supposed to be a feminist blog, not a "gay, gay, gayness" blog. And it still is a feminist blog. As I said in a previous post, feminism is about advocating for the equality of minorities and oppressed parties; not just women's equality. However, I do think this will probably be the last blog about LGBTQI issues for a little while (unless, of course, something very significant happens with regard to LGBTQI rights or LGBTQI oppression in the news, or the media, or whatever). I do think it's quite important that I address the topic that I'm about to discuss here, though.

Over the years, a lot of people have asked me to tell them my "coming out" story, or, at the very least, relay what the experience of coming out entailed for me, or what it brought to my life. And I always kind of laugh this off, and there's a big joke among my friends that I don't have a significant coming out story because I didn't HAVE to come out, but that's not exactly true. I do think coming out is extremely important, and I don't take it lightly.

I realize that I was very, very, very lucky. I grew up in a household that was relatively accepting of diverse lifestyles, and, while he was quite conservative in most areas of life, and we didn't see eye-to-eye very often, my father was not - thank Goddess - a homophobe. Unfortunately, because he died when I was 14, I didn't ever get the chance to come out to him. I do often wonder how he would have handled it, being that I was his kid and, for some reason, people react differently sometimes when it's their own kid, versus when it's just a friend or... whatever, but I like to think that, in time, he would have probably been quite accepting. I think it would have taken him a little while to get used to it, but I do think that, eventually, he would have come around.

My mother is a different story.

I came out to my mom... probably within the year after my father died. I began a relationship with a girl (I don't know where she is now, as I never really saw/spoke to her again after we split, but for the sake of identity-protection, we'll call her "Bianca") and it lasted about six/seven months, or so, and it was the first time I'd ever dated anybody... semi-seriously, I guess. I liked Bianca a lot; she was very pretty, sexy, fun, creative, interesting, smart, and just... really awesome to be around. She was the first girl I'd ever kissed, the first person I ever had sex with, and the first person who made me feel like it was truly okay for me to be into girls; not just in that "removed" situation where most liberal people say that they like/support gay people, but to actually be gay, and secure with it.

So, I remember telling Bianca that I was taking the possibility of coming out to my mom under consideration, and she asked me a lot of questions about that (since she was already out to her family and a lot of her friends, and, thus, experienced in that area), like if there was a chance my mom would disown me, or kick me out, or hit me, and things like that. And I knew the answer to all of her questions was "no," because my mom is one of the most accepting, non-judgmental people in the world. I do remember thinking that I must've been really lucky and had it really easy, and it was the first time in my life that it dawned on me that some people have a really stressful and difficult home life, when they have to worry about their home and their parents no longer being the "safe place" that it always, always should be, after they come out to their families.

So, when I finally did come out to my mom, I remember being really, really, really, really, really, REALLY nervous about that, for some reason. We were alone, and I remember just kind of... looking her in the eye, and saying that there was something I needed to talk about. Obviously, from my demeanor, she must have understood that it was important, so she immediately gave me her undivided attention. I was shaking all the fuck over, I took a deep breath, told her that I had a girlfriend, and that I was very much interested in women. She laughed.

My mother fucking laughed. Not in a cruel way, but in a relieved, joyfully amused, "tell-me-something-I-don't-know" way.

And she said, and I quote, "I knew that when you were about... oh, eight, nine? Let's go eat." Which is amazing, really, because that's about the age I started realizing I liked girls, and started getting crushes on them, and admiring womens' bodies all the time, and looking through my father's Playboys. (Ha.)

Ever since then, she has been so wonderfully passionate about LGBTQI rights (not that she wasn't before, but I definitely think it augmented her interests and drive for social-acceptance), and she is truly one of our greatest allies. Of all time.

Not a day goes by where I'm not grateful for how lucky I am to have her as my parent. And not just because of my sexuality, but because she's one of the few true human beings I know, and she understands me, and allows me to be my free-thinking, radical self with a zero-censor policy, regardless of whether or not she agrees with me (we clash on religion, for instance). I just have to thank my lucky stars every single day for being fortunate enough to be born into a life where I have someone like her as my parent, and my hero. Because that's precisely what she is; she's my hero, my mentor, and my best friend.

I know there are so many people out there (maybe even some of you reading this) who don't have an understanding, open-minded parent like that. And I am just really sorry that things are still that way in the world. That's the kind of thing that contributes largely to the extremely-high gay teen suicide rates, and I just think that is so fucking sad. To be gay, and to be so scared of coming out that you feel like your parents would possibly rather see you dead, than have you alive and gay, is probably one of the saddest things in the world.

If you are gay (or bi, transgendered, etc.), and you live in a household where you feel like your parents are not going to be accepting of you, please don't kill yourself. You don't have to come out right away. Wait until you're out of your parents' home, and living independently from them, and then come out to them, because then they can't hurt you, kick you out, or take away your privileges to "punish" you, nor do they have the ability to make negative/discouraging comments about your lifestyle. You have your whole life to come out. I hope you will come out, eventually, because it is a wonderful feeling to get that off of your shoulders, but don't do it right away if you feel that your safety is threatened, or if you feel like you'll be disowned or kicked out.

Understand, also, that you do not have to let your sexuality define your entire existence. In fact, no one should let their sexuality define their entire existence, no matter what age you are. If you're very young, there are so many things you can and should focus on other than your sexuality. Let those things define you as a person; work on figuring out what you'd like to do with your life/your career, focus on things that you like to do (writing, art, music, playing with your dog, hanging out with your friends, going to/watching movies, designing webpages, reading, creating blogs/vlogs, doing jigsaw puzzles, being a video-game junkie... whatever you like to do, or whatever makes you happy when you're doing it, as long as it's positive and not harming yourself or other people, do that). After all, you are a full, multi-faceted, multi-dimensional human being, and you are still entitled to the same freedoms as everyone else, and those include just being a normal kid, and having your own interests, and enjoying your youth while it's yours. Don't ever let anyone tell you that you are not normal for being gay, and that you can no longer act like a normal person, because you are. Your sexuality isn't going anywhere, and you have your whole life to explore it. So if you're worried about coming out, don't come out if you're not ready, and just focus on other facets of your life.

However, if you're not out and don't feel like you can come out any time soon, but want to explore an attraction or a possible relationship with someone, I advise you do to so, but be honest with them right away. Let them know that you're not out to your parents, or your family. It's only fair to be up-front about that sort of thing, so they can at least gauge the situation. There's also a possibility that they're not out to their family, either, and it could be something you could possibly help one other with.

I think I may have covered all the bases. If I haven't, you can ask me about anything you'd like, and I'll do my best to answer.

If there's anyone out there reading this who is afraid to come out, who is questioning their sexuality, who is worried that their parents will be violent, angry, or disown them if they ever find out, please talk to someone who will understand. There are people out there who want to help. Find out if your school has a gay-straight alliance, check for a Gay & Lesbian Center in your area (I believe most areas have them now), and try to engage friendships with other members of the LGBTQI community. There are really a lot of amazing, supportive people out there who will not judge or hurt you.

And if anyone needs someone to talk to about this, wants advice while remaining anonymous, or just needs someone to lend an ear (either about this, or anything else), don't hesitate to send me a message.

The Accidental Heterophobe Next Door.

Because of the last few posts I've written here where I've discussed sexuality quite a bit, my boyfriend pointed out to me that I seem to always speak of straight people with a note of hatred and overwhelming anger in the overall tone of my words. And that just kind of inspired me; made me consider the fact that there is a possibility that I may seem like I'm attacking straight people, which I never wanted to do, and I never wanted to use that as some kind of a default "go-to" crutch for getting my point across, or placing blame.

I prefer to think of my apparently ostensible "rage" as deep passion for what I believe in. I will admit that I may get overly passionate sometimes, and I may use angry words, but that's only because I'm a deeply emotional person, who takes a lot of issue with all types and forms of marginalization. Homophobia is a type of marginalization that happens to affect my life directly, so, naturally, I'm going to rant about it from time to time. After all, this IS my blog, and I am a gay woman, and this is MY outlet for ME to discuss those things I see as unjust and immoral, or to simply rid my spirit of things that are making me feel icky or upset or angry. I'm not asking anyone to agree with me. In fact, I welcome dissent. If you think I'm saying something that's totally off-base, or that may seem wrongly hateful or biased or spiteful, or even something that makes it seem as though I'm exercising my privileges while marginalizing others for disadvantages, please tell me. I'm not here to HATE anyone; equality is what I WANT, and what I'm trying to strive and advocate for. I'm here to educate and shine a light on MY perspective. I know my ideas are radical, but it's still my right to voice those ideas.

I don't hate straight people - some of the most important people in my life are straight, of which my mom and older brother are merely two. I don't have a problem with straight people at all. I have a problem with institutional homophobia and all forms of mindless bigotry, and the reason I often associate heterosexuals with institutional homophobia and mindless bigotry is because they're the ones who have the pull in broader society to keep LGBTQI folks oppressed, and many of them take advantage of that opportunity on a regular and often public and widespread basis.

However, I, under no circumstances, ever meant to imply that straight people are the source of ALL of the LGBTQI community's problems. So, if I did, and I might have offended anyone out there who's reading this (...is anyone reading this?), I do take responsibility for it, and I do apologize for it.

That being said, I also never wanted to imply that the LGBTQI community doesn't have its own problems in and of itself, with regard to overall structure and focus and whatnot, and there are plenty of people within the queer community who hold us back all the time.

Has anyone out there ever run into someone who identifies as gay, bisexual, transgendered, et cetera, et cetera (basically, anything BUT straight; thus, in the sexual-identity minority), but they're a total homophobe? Because I've met SEVERAL people like that. It's always really confusing when I meet gay men who are butch/masculine-presenting and it's almost like... they're ashamed to be around the femmes. Like they'd honestly rather mask their sexuality and hang around straight guys, pretending to like pussy, than to be associated or even seen with the effeminate gay men.

The thing that bothers me about this is that I think feminine gay guys are pretty much the backbone of the LGBTQI community. I've met some effeminate bisexual guys, too, and I think they contribute largely to said backbone. And the wonderful thing about effeminate gay men is that they're not concealing their sexuality; they're what people recognize (and NOT because they're a stereotype; I'm not talking in stereotypes, here), and they're the ones who are probably going to be the people who help the rights movements progress, because, since they're not afraid or ashamed of BEING gay, they're not going to be afraid or ashamed to fight openly and unapologetically for gay rights. After all; it was drag queens at Stonewall. And they're fine with it; they're open and obvious and totally fine with people knowing they're gay. That's not to say that I THINK they should be representative of all gay men, but until some of the more masculine-presenting men are comfortable with their sexuality enough to be in the presence of femmes without acting like they're ashamed, and coming out to their straight friends, that's all the straight world will recognize when they see or conjure up an image of gay people. I think feminine men - whether they're gay/bi/pansexual (speaking specifically of cisgendered, non-heterosexual men) or not - are some of the bravest people on the green Earth, especially considering patriarchy's idea of what it means to be a man.

I think we can all agree that traditional/conventional expressions of masculinity are certainly not what make someone a man.

I'm not trying to imply that it's wrong to be a masculine gay man. It's only wrong to be masculine while being ashamed of the femmes and being insecure with yourself and your sexuality because of them, accusing them of holding the gay community back in terms of the straight world, and hating them just because they express themselves differently than you do. It's not wrong to be closeted, either, but it's still wrong to act like people who aren't closeted are bad people, or that people who are obvious are bad people. After all, no one acts like very masculine straight guys are bad people because they're "too masculine" or "too obviously straight."

Please also note that most of these gay men who act this way are not totally closeted. They even act this way in gay bars and clubs. How do I know? Well, that'd be because I've BEEN to gay bars. And I've seen it. I've even seen it at Pride. How's that for being proud of our sexual freedom?

These issues aren't exclusive to gay men, though. These behaviors are popular between lesbians and queer women, too, and I actually know this from first-hand experience, as an extremely femme lesbian. Over the years that I've been out of the closet, several butch lesbians have implied that they... pretty much don't believe me. They don't believe I'm gay because I'm very feminine-presenting, and, thus, I have to actually PROVE that I like women, as if wearing men's clothing is what makes someone a lesbian, instead of the things that REALLY make someone a lesbian, like loving women, having romantic relationships with them, having sexual relationships with them, and all the rest of the things people do when they have romantic inclinations toward a person. And what really chaps my hide about that is that, when it comes to relationship dynamics, a LOT of butches will admit that they have an overwhelming preference for femmes. Even I'll admit that my attractions generally lean toward the gals who are on the butch/androgynous side. And I'm not sure why that is; I think we're all still socially-conditioned to think that, even though we're gay, we still kind of NEED the masculine-feminine/heteronormative dynamic in our relationships, to lend some sort of structure and balance to them, or something.

Even in straight relationships, I've seen two people together who are both kind of submissive, meek people, and the relationship sort of tends to fall apart, and I've seen two people who are both rather domineering, and I've seen those relationships take an abusive turn. I'm not really trying to generalize; I'm sure those types of relationships where the dynamics are between two submissive people or two dominant people can be perfectly healthy and happy. I'm only relaying my personal observations and experiences. And, after all - we all know some men who are very masculine-presenting and they are very shy, meek, sensitive people, and some women who are very feminine, but they are quite headstrong and stubborn and dominant. So I think that sort of thing truly is determined on an individual-to-individual basis.

The other thing I see a lot of is a ridiculous amount of biphobia within the LGBTQI community. I am not sure when this started, but I do know that it's something that has always bothered me, especially since I've been noticing it for a long time; even back when I used to identify as bisexual. A lot of gay people discriminate against bisexuals in the most horrid, unfair ways. I've seen several gay women state that they would "never, ever date a bi girl," or that bisexuality is literally just like sitting on the top of a fence post until you decide which side you'd like to jump down onto. And that's just... inconceivable to me, how someone could even say something like that. Gay people are some of the most discriminated-against people in the world, and you actually have the astonishing, unfathomable gall to write bisexuality off as an invalid orientation?

I'm definitely not saying there AREN'T fake-bisexuals. In fact, I know there are; I've met some. It's become trendy and "cool" to say you're bisexual now, and for some reason, it seems to be more trendy among women than it is among men. Probably because it's easier for women to be accepted as bi, as men always have to worry about the looming threat of being feminized. I've even known men who really ARE bi but wouldn't come out to anyone (except me, because for some reason, EVERYONE comes out to me, eventually).

What it boils down to is this - whether or not someone is truly bisexual, they're a "trendy bisexual," they're using bisexuality as a crutch for their eventual coming out as gay or for their "test-period" to figure out that they're straight, or they simply appreciate beauty where they see it, we HAVE to remember that when you're dealing with someone who identifies as bisexual, you're dealing with a real person, with real feelings, and who deserves our acceptance, just like everyone else. And here's something else to consider, fellow homos - even if someone who identifies as bi isn't really, truly bisexual, they're still on our side, they're open to our lifestyle, and will likely fight for our rights. We need to extend the same courtesy to them, and be willing to fight for theirs.

We can't expect the straight world to accept us when we won't even accept each other. Whether it's masculine gay men being ashamed of feminine gay men, butch lesbians acting as if feminine lesbians aren't REAL lesbians, or gay people as a collective writing off bisexuality as an invalid sexual orientation, it's not going to work. We'll never get anywhere if we're sniping at each other within the community. We will fall APART if we do that. Fast.

For some people, sexuality is fluid and ever-changing. For others, sexuality is something innate; it's just who you are, and those feelings simply do come naturally to you. Either way, it's YOUR life and YOU are the only person who can decide and define your sexuality for yourself. And whether you're gay, straight, bisexual, queer, pansexual, asexual, celibate, questioning, transgendered, transsexual, genderqueer, intersex, or something else entirely, there is only one ultimate reality:

Love is love. And no one should ever hate love.

The "Hegan" (he's a manly MAN!) Next Door.

Forget vegan. Your man's a hegan.

Yes. There is no need to adjust your computer brightness. I actually used vegan and "hegan."

I was informed of this new phenomenon of straight men going vegan and referring to themselves as "hegans" by my partner. She and I are both vegans (and feminists), and we both became vegans for primarily ethical reasons. We're both very proud of our choices.

"Why 'hegan'? What's wrong with 'vegan'? What's the difference?" You may be asking yourself. I'd be delighted to tell you.

These straight men are going vegan, but they're not interested in the principles behind veganism, and they're not in it for ethical reasons or for the environment or for the sake of bettering the life of abused animals, but for their looks and their waistline. And they're straight, masculine MANLY MEN, who don't want to associate themselves with the brand of feminization that male vegetarians and vegans generally endure. That's right, honey. He's putting the HE in "vegan." Goodness forbid that, as a heterosexual male, you should be associated with women or queers or effeminate gay men. They need the WORLD to know that they're not gay, and they're making sure the world knows that they aren't the ones turning into a giant vulva by not eating animals or dairy products or eggs. They're striving for traditional masculinity in what they consider to be a "rapidly feminizing world."

...like heterosexual men haven't been vegans since the start of veganism.

Traditional masculinity: Stoic, repressed, callous, and angry.

Oh, YEAH. We should ALL strive to be like THAT.

Here's the thing, straight men who are vegans (that's right, I'm calling you a vegan) and insist on being called "hegans": This is a sophomoric ploy from an insecure manchild. This is elementary. You're putting an exclusive stamp on it, and telling everyone else who doesn't identify personally the way that you do, that they're not allowed into your "club," because they're a woman, or a man who doesn't like to fuck women, who happen to be vegans. You're making a huge mockery of something that is a serious, life-altering, often spiritual and ethical lifestyle commitment for a lot of people. You're turning other straight men who are fine with their sexuality, their vegetarianism/veganism, and who are secure being CALLED a vegetarian or a vegan, into a fucking punchline. Because you insist on calling yourself a "hegan," you're not making yourself look better or more masculine-presenting. You're making other straight men who are vegans look BAD, because, NOW, people WILL feminize and mock them for identifying as vegans, even more than they already have been. Worst of all, you're adding a hindrance to something that many of us believe we need to try very hard to be taken seriously, and be accepted on the broader spectrum of social-construct.

To call yourself a "hegan" is disrespectful. To everyone. It's sending the message to all of us that we are not good enough. Masculine is not what you're trying to be; it's what you are. And forming an exclusive sect of veganism to exclude everyone who doesn't identify as a straight man doesn't make you look MORE masculine. It makes you look like an insecure little boy.

Any straight man who takes part in a vegan or vegetarian lifestyle, and who is secure and happy identifying as a vegan or vegetarian - especially now - is someone I applaud. I have a much greater appreciation for you now than I ever have before.

Any straight man who identifies as a hegan, however? You have nothing but my contempt.

The Bonding of Souls Next Door.

With the plethora of weddings and engagements taking place all around me as of late, and the questions, concerns, and sometimes even downright offense I seem to incite in those around me when I maintain my refusal to take part in the institution of marriage, I've finally decided that I should explain myself on the matter.

It's not that I have anything against anyone who has a desire to get married. I just need to preface with that. I'm not ripping on anyone, and I'm certainly not trying to piss all over anyone's religious beliefs, or anything like that. It is merely an overwhelming personal feeling that marriage is a bankrupt institution, for several reasons.

In present-day Western culture, it is a well-established fact that - and I've done the math, here - two out of every five marriages end in divorce. I think this is possibly because people that get married nowadays don't know the history behind the institution of marriage, and they don't have a full understanding or appreciation for what it is to be married in the year 2010. More often than not, marriage is just "the thing to do" for impressionable people who see their friends and members of their families and those in the straight community all doing it, and it is taken far, far too lightly, by people who are exercising an unexamined privilege. Now, I will admit that the divorce statistics are likely applied mainly to a younger demographic of individuals, and given that same-sex couples can't legally marry on a federal scale, with all of those wonderful privileges and recognized unions that straight couples have, I believe that, while applying to a younger demographic of people, these numbers are also likely applied to a heterosexual demographic of people, and, for that, most of this is going to be about the traditional, heterosexual/heteronormative institution.

Now - and this is not intended as a blanket statement about everyone, and ALL young people, and ALL straight people; this is merely a personal observation - when I speak with engaged couples, they are never focused on their upcoming marriage. They are focused on their wedding. They are focused on the party, and the ritual, and the rings, and parroting vows they're not even listening to themselves saying back to a minister, and the ceremony, and the honeymoon. They are not focused on the marriage aspect whatsoever; the newfound responsibility, and the fact that you are now supposed to share the rest of your life with this person; that every decision you make, most things you have and desire, several facets of your existence are no longer "me," but are now "us." Marriage is thought of as fun and cute and it's the glorified form of living with someone, and hey, when I get tired of this, we can just get a divorce, and then it's onto the next. It is not often thought of as a serious, life-altering act that is supposed to impact you until your - or you partner's - dying day.

I'm going to do something now that I probably will NOT be doing very often, but I'm going to give a personal tidbit here, simply because I think it's a good example of an unconventional wedding practice, and without a doubt one of the most romantic things I've ever heard.

My parents eloped. In the middle of the night. With no one but each other. My mother got married in jeans and a halter top; my father in a t-shirt and a trucker cap. They didn't plan it, were never engaged, they had never lived together prior to the wedding, and - being from California at the time - they drove up here, to Las Vegas, and got married, had a quickie in a motel room for their "honeymoon," and came home. They were a on-again-off-again couple for five years. They stayed married for almost twenty years. They were married until my father died in 2000. I whole-heartedly believe they'd still be married if he hadn't. My mother never re-married, and seemingly has no intentions of doing so. And for the most part, they had a loving, honest marriage. I always cite it as the best example of true love I've ever witnessed, even if it was only for fourteen short years.

I digress.

Marriage - more often than not - is NOT viewed as the ultimate form of a romantic, sexual, loving bond. That's what it's supposed to be, though, right? You love someone, you can conceive of seeing their face every morning, you want to live with them and eat with them and talk to them and tell them your ideasthoughtshopesfearssecretsdesiresneedsdreams and share a bed with them and make love to them and watch movies with them and create things with them and possibly raise children with them and go to Applebee's with them and do all the things that married people do, and are supposed to want to do, with this one individual for the rest of your living days.

Well.

It's time for a little history lesson, folks.

Marriage - in its most archaic form - was once synonymous, not with love, but with FEMALE. SLAVERY. That's right; marriage was merely a glorified means for men to enslave women, or perpetuate the slavery of women. The marriage contract itself was originally the primary method for fathers to transfer the ownership or legal guardianship that they claimed over their daughters into the hands of another man; aka, her husband. And not only did they transfer ownership, but in doing so, the husband not only garnered a brand-new slave, but a cash bonus for doing so, and this was called a dowry.

Evidence of said practices are STILL prevalent in modern marriage customs. How, you ask?

There's this funny little custom that everyone thinks is really cute and sweet, and it still happens every day. This custom is now simply known as a legal name change. Without a second thought, every day, hundreds of women get married and take their husband's last name, in favor of forfeiting their given name; their father's name. No one thinks twice about doing this; it's just what you're "supposed" to do when you become a married woman. Originally, it was merely meant to signify that, as a woman, the legal ownership of your person was passed on from your father to your husband. You took your husband's last name because you were his property then; his slave. You no longer belonged to your father. Same goes for the custom of a father walking his daughter down the aisle and "giving her away."

In a modern sense, these are, obviously, ludicrous, outdated, primitive, sexist traditions, and many women would probably argue that it has no relevance in society now, and thus, the name-change is harmless, because it's simply not like that anymore. A very small percentage of us question it. However, I don't feel it's very much different. You've been the person you are for your ENTIRE. life. You've had your name for X amount of years, and you've always been known as that person. You've always known YOURSELF as that person. It is your given identity. So, suddenly, you get married, and you're expected to forfeit the identity you've had and known for as long as you've been alive?

I just... fuck. Fucking FUCK. In this world, only a woman would be expected to do something so fucking degrading with a fucking smile on her fucking face.

I've expressed this very opinion to many straight men over the years, who have attempted to laugh me off, or tell me I'm crazy, or what have you. The easiest way to shut them up, I've found, is to ask them, "Why don't you take your girlfriend's last name, then?" They get quiet, or mumble, or hmm-'n-haw, and I get to smirk, and pose the simple inquiry, "Kinda degrading, innit?"

Otherwise, marriage was also once used as a means of socio-political advancement. Probably still is, occasionally. The very trite "convenience" marriage we're all familiar with, in one way or another. You know the kind; two important, fat-cat corporations or countries or... whatever, form a "bond" or a "treaty" of sorts, and two figureheads from each of those respective outfits marry to cement the foundation. It's so Hollywood and trite and over-done that I don't even have anything else I can say. You know what I'm talking about. We've all seen it dozens of times.

You may be asking yourself how any of this can possibly bear any sort of relevance in modern culture and the state of modern marriage practices.

The fact is this: The institution of marriage and its roots were not based in foundations of love and commitment and soul-bonding, but in foundations of money, female slavery, power, and convenience.

In the modern sense, marriage is... a rather naive notion of romanticism. But maybe that's okay sometimes, in a world chock-full of cynicism. Marriage is based on notions of love and commitment, mutual satisfaction and individual choice. You're allowed to make your own decisions about the person(s) you love and you'd like to spend your life with; your family doesn't get to do that for you (speaking specifically about Western culture, that is - I am fully aware that arranged marriages still take place in some select countries).

Now, as a gay woman, I hear a lot of shit about how the sanctity of marriage is under attack because of some insidious homosexual agenda.

Let me address that first.

The only agenda I have is writing novels, being what I believe is a decent fucking person, book-shopping, meditation, gardening, and occasionally buying shoes, honey. I don't have some secret agenda to "steal" something that you perceive yourself as having ownership of, and it's really fucking easy for you to sit around pointing your fucking finger at me when YOU'RE the one denying people basic, human rights, because granting US any sort of leeway in the area of privilege might just force you to recognize the fact that we're full, multi-faceted, multi-dimensional human beings, who have feelings and convictions and who love and fuck and have the same mundane problems that everyone else has, on top of all of the problems you create for us. And it'd be a little difficult to still consider us sub-human that way, wouldn't it? I'm not doing that, am I? I'm not saying that gay people should be allowed to get married and straight people shouldn't. I'm saying that gay people should simply have the right to a recognized union; same as you.

The real attack on marriage is not coming from LGBTQI individuals; it's from the media, with television shows like "Who Wants to Marry a Millionaire?" and "Who Wants to Marry My Dad?!" and the constant scrutiny from the paparazzi on the lives of celebrated individuals, and the way it sensationalizes divorce, or all the TV shows and films we see where there's a married couple with a loveless, sexless marriage, and it just trivializes something that many consider to be an honest-to-Maude rite of passage; a loving bond of souls.

If those opposed to gay marriage would like to battle someone for demeaning the sanctity of marriage, perhaps they should shift their focus to the ways in which marriage is portrayed in the media. Marriage - because of the media - has become a farce. A fucking farce. It's a joke. It's a punchline. Literally. Between the way straight people conduct their marriages and the way the media portrays marriage, you don't even NEED gay people to ruin something that's supposed to be a sacred practice. Honey, you're doing a bang-up job of that on your own.

Now, I am, by no means, saying that it's wrong to get divorced. If you entered into a marriage that turned out to be hateful, or abusive, or what have you, I would absolutely encourage you to get out of it, and fast. If you truly DID love this person at the time you got married, and, years down the road, you honestly come to a point where you recognize that you're in a truly loveless union that has no hope for repair, I would encourage you to move on with your life. There are a few other cases where I think marriage and a subsequent divorce is fully acceptable, and not necessarily making a mockery of it, but I think I've gotten my point across with that, for now.

The thing is, I believe that most people who get divorced enter into the union WITHOUT actually being in love to begin with. Divorce hasn't become a solution to a bad, loveless marriage. Divorce is almost like some kind of a sick TREND now. It's like the new en vogue; it's sexy this year! And that's the kind of shit that pisses me off. People who sit around getting married and divorced and married and divorced and married and divorced, because they can. Because the law grants them the privilege to do that. And they're allowed to get married and divorced as many times as they'd like, and their first, and second, and thirteenth and twentieth marriages will ALL be legal, binding, and recognized under the view of the law.

I can be in love with the same woman for twenty years and, under the eye of the law, we might as well be total strangers.

Long ago, I decided to personally boycott the institution of marriage for all of these reasons, and others that I haven't even mentioned here. I can't get legally married to anyone until EVERYONE has the right to get legally married to the person they love. It would be plain hypocritcal of me to constantly advocate for same-sex marriage (among other non-traditional, non-heteronormative marriage practices), only to go out and exercise a privilege to take part in a union for which so many are denied.

I am down with love. I love love. I have loved. I AM in love.

I simply refuse to perpetuate the behaviors and privileges that traditional marriage is founded on.