Are we too awesome for you? Is that it?
Here’s to the men that we love that we love
Here’s to the men that love us that love us
If the men that we love
Don’t love us don’t love us
Then fuck the men and here’s to us!
– A cheers from my college days…
OK I feel a little bit like I’m walking around the last couple weeks with a big stick, beating this dead horse every time I sit down to post something.
The dead horse’s name being Changing Sex Stereotypes and How Do You Deal With Boys That Can’t Deal With You. When You’re Part of The Change.
(Long name for a horse, right…)
Things that I’ve learned from this
beating a dead horse discussion… (and, for the record, I am loving this discussion – I think it takes time and conversation to reach conclusions that matter…)
One: It’s time to stop with the flippin’ societal constructs about men as sexual beings defined here and women as sexual beings defined here. Enough, especially, with trying to use science (sometimes shitty science, sometimes shitty interpretation/cherry picking of science) as confirmation of those sexual stereotypes.
Break free! Be yourself! Educate each other! Talk! Discuss! Argue! Challenge! Hoorah!
But… unfortunately, that is only half the battle.
Because Two: There are some of us that get it, and a lot that don’t.
I think the “slut v. prude” argument makes clear that some women don’t get it. So it’s not just the boys. SO women need to knock off the shaming and the name-calling and stop, for fuck’s sake, being our own worst enemy and start effing supporting one another. Done and done.
But… the boys don’t get it either. On one hand, they’re afraid because things are changing – and, duh, change + insecurity = inadequacy and fear. Plus, add to that the fact that men aren’t exactly taught to deal with their emotions (this is a blog all by itself).
There’s an additional problem, however, with (I know, isn’t that enough?)what is predictable?
It’s not just that men are supposed to be the pursuer (or whatever) and that changing gender roles makes them nervous.
It’s not only that women are not supposed to be outwardly sexual – let alone being the sexual “aggressor” (for lack of a better term).
It’s also … women are also supposed to be, well, kind of crazy.
We’re supposed to be passive-aggressive, and we’re supposed to not really tell you what we’re thinking – we’re supposed to think that you’re supposed to read our minds.
We’re not supposed to understand that you’re busy. We’re supposed to expect daily phone calls/texts/e-mails.
In short, we’re supposed to be high maintenance, and just looking for a way to get you to marry us. This isn’t supposed to be easy… we’re supposed to be kind of a pain in the ass.
Yeah… kind of crazy.
Newsflash: We’re not the stereotypical woman, because we’re not any of those things, either.
Because… those stereotypes infer that we’re not really supposed to have our own lives that are important to us.
We’re not supposed to be busy, too. We’re not supposed to have more important things to do than hang out with you.
But those are things that actually are. Because part of being a feminist, is being happy in your own skin, having a life that you built yourself and that you love. Part of being an independent woman, the daughters of the feminist movement, is being yourself. Part of it is not needing a man to define that, or trying to trap one to make you happy. You can do that yourself.
We know who we are – because we defined that ourselves. We are no longer dependent on men, to ask for sex, to pursue us, to make us happy, to tell us who we are, to define our lives.
We’re not supposed to speak our minds and tell you what we want, whether that’s a date on Saturday, that you’re being stupid, or that we’d like to fuck you on the hood of your car.
We’re not high maintenance, we’re not passive-aggressive, because dear lord that just sounds tiring – and we’ve got enough going on. Who needs to behave like that?
So. In the end? We’re pretty goddamn awesome.
But you know what? Even that – is totally new, if you compare it to how women are supposed to be.
And that, my friend, adds to the anxiety.
Passive-aggressive put-a-goddamn-ring-on-my-finger isn’t great, but it’s predictable.
In addition, it makes boys feel needed, too.
This all amounts to a whole hell of a lot of anxiety for boys. Some confusion. Maybe some inadequacy, too. The sad part of all this?
It shouldn’t. This should fucking awesome for everyone.