Modesty, Part 2
Wendy Shalit's general description of the ways women are uncomfortable with contemporary sexual politics don't apply to me particularly well. Though I waited until 18 to "give it up" and lose my virginity, my primary reason for doing so was curiosity. I chose a guy I thought was good looking and suspected would be good in bed. We rented a hotel room, and I made him wait until after Star Trek.
At the time, I identified myself as lesbian. After having sex with several guys, seeing as I enjoyed it, I amended my self-labeling to "bisexual". A while later, I added "polyamorous" to that list.
I won't go into all the details of my sexual exploits while I was in the Navy, but suffice to say that my reasons for having sex were largely recreational. To quote a quote in Wendy's book from SexLife magazine, "These women can enjoy sex for sex's sake even when there's no romantic backdrop, no promise of love or talk of commitment." I was that sort. Apparently, it makes me wierd.
I did seem to have a somewhat masculine streak in my sexual worldview. I had no problem with "hooking up", never got dumped because I never got involved. Sure, I usually wanted to know a guy a bit first. I liked sex with buddies, not with strangers. But I wasn't looking for romance. I wasn't ready to settle down, not by a long shot.
And even when I did want a bit of romance, I didn't want a "one and only." I frankly thought it was kind of gross and annoying the way some people wrap themselves up in each other to the exclusion of the rest of the world.
When I did go looking for commitment, it wasn't for love or romance. It was out of baby-craziness. I wanted a partner to raise children with. My main concerns were economic security and emotional stability, not romance.
Shalit posits a thought experiment:
"Women, when no one else is around, do you secretly long for a whole series of men; to arbitrarily marry one of them and then maybe have affairs, maybe not--to be cool and wait and see if anyone better comes along, and then divorce--or do you long for one enduring love?"
My answer is a big fat "no" on both counts. I didn't long for a whole series of men. though I did enjoy their company as they came and went in my life. With the exception of one who followed me home like a lost puppy then departed like a tornado when dismissed for being an unstable boor, I would be pleasantly surprised if I ran into any of them again.
And while I would prefer a life of enduring love, I would prefer to have several, who at the least mutually respect one another. The constitutional desire for exclusivity that Shalit wraps up with ideas of sexual modesty don't really pertain to me. Yet I have still, in general, preferred to dress modestly. At times, this expressed itself in butch leanings to T-shirts and jeans, a motorcycle jacket, and other men's clothing. Other times, including the past couple of years, I have preferred long, full skirts.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Modesty, part I: Sex ed
A Return to Modesty: Discovering the Lost Virtue by Wendy Shalit
I am currently reading this book. It is giving me a great deal of food for thought, and has afforded me an opportunity to elucidate my own thoughts on this subject.
Since I became a mother, I have experienced an increased impulse towards modest dress, including covering my hair. I have been somewhat at a loss as to why. Wendy Shalit's discussion does not rest on any particular religious doctrine or argument, and she has made some valid (and some perhaps not-so-valid) critical points about the society in which we live.
In the first chapter of her book, she takes a stance against sex education in the public schools. At first, this rubbed me the wrong way. I sincerely believe sex ed is important. Young people should be informed and armed with information about sex, safety, and social roles. But then I chewed on the idea some more, and I think she has a point. Often, sex ed in school does not teach things in a developmentally appropriate way. Note I did not say, "age-appropriate". I think that's part of the problem. When dealing with masses of school children, there is a strong tendency to base things on age. Instead, I think sex ed should be the responsibility of parents, who should provide information to their individual children in accordance with their individual maturity and need to know.
For an example of this, I give you the blowjob. At the age of 14, as a high school freshman, I did not know what a "blowjob" was. This despite having borrowed the book "Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Sex But Were Afraid To Ask" from the public library at the age of 11. (Borrowed, I might add, without checking it out. I was too embarrassed. After all, what if the librarians told my mom?) I knew what fellatio was.
But "blowjob" was a slang term I'd never encountered. So, in my naive and curious way, when someone cracked a joke I didn't get that involved the term, I piped up, "What's a blowjob?"
No one in my little lunch clique would tell me. They all laughed at me instead. Including my best friend, Amy. For the rest of high school, any of my friends asking "Hey, Jodi, what's a blowjob?" would send the whole table into fits of merriment.
I had to go home and ask my mother. I was blessed with the sort of mother one can ask these sorts of questions. It is my staunch belief that parents who aren't that sort are failing their children in the sex ed department. Children don't need a sex ed curriculum. They need parents willing to answer their questions without embarrasment on the part of the adults, sensitive to the fact that the process is unlikely to be without embarassment on the part of the young people.
Years later, my friend Amy pointed out that she hadn't known what a blowjob was, but she'd had the sense to keep her mouth shut about it. While just as naive as I about sexual matters, she was far more socially adept.
A Return to Modesty: Discovering the Lost Virtue by Wendy Shalit
I am currently reading this book. It is giving me a great deal of food for thought, and has afforded me an opportunity to elucidate my own thoughts on this subject.
Since I became a mother, I have experienced an increased impulse towards modest dress, including covering my hair. I have been somewhat at a loss as to why. Wendy Shalit's discussion does not rest on any particular religious doctrine or argument, and she has made some valid (and some perhaps not-so-valid) critical points about the society in which we live.
In the first chapter of her book, she takes a stance against sex education in the public schools. At first, this rubbed me the wrong way. I sincerely believe sex ed is important. Young people should be informed and armed with information about sex, safety, and social roles. But then I chewed on the idea some more, and I think she has a point. Often, sex ed in school does not teach things in a developmentally appropriate way. Note I did not say, "age-appropriate". I think that's part of the problem. When dealing with masses of school children, there is a strong tendency to base things on age. Instead, I think sex ed should be the responsibility of parents, who should provide information to their individual children in accordance with their individual maturity and need to know.
For an example of this, I give you the blowjob. At the age of 14, as a high school freshman, I did not know what a "blowjob" was. This despite having borrowed the book "Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Sex But Were Afraid To Ask" from the public library at the age of 11. (Borrowed, I might add, without checking it out. I was too embarrassed. After all, what if the librarians told my mom?) I knew what fellatio was.
But "blowjob" was a slang term I'd never encountered. So, in my naive and curious way, when someone cracked a joke I didn't get that involved the term, I piped up, "What's a blowjob?"
No one in my little lunch clique would tell me. They all laughed at me instead. Including my best friend, Amy. For the rest of high school, any of my friends asking "Hey, Jodi, what's a blowjob?" would send the whole table into fits of merriment.
I had to go home and ask my mother. I was blessed with the sort of mother one can ask these sorts of questions. It is my staunch belief that parents who aren't that sort are failing their children in the sex ed department. Children don't need a sex ed curriculum. They need parents willing to answer their questions without embarrasment on the part of the adults, sensitive to the fact that the process is unlikely to be without embarassment on the part of the young people.
Years later, my friend Amy pointed out that she hadn't known what a blowjob was, but she'd had the sense to keep her mouth shut about it. While just as naive as I about sexual matters, she was far more socially adept.
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