I’ve been watching the promotion of ‘choice feminism’ and reading all the women who talk about how much they love sex and love sucking dick and swallowing cum and how liberating and empowering that is for them. I read comments from women who are all ‘yeah, I love sex, why shouldn’t a woman be allowed to fuck whoever she wants, whenever she wants and not get shamed for it?’ One even said ‘I love being eye candy for men to masturbate to’. And they claim to do all this sexual servicing of men ‘for themselves’ and ‘because I love it’ and they even believe that what they are doing is actually feminist.
The thing with ‘choice feminism’ and sex-positivity, is that they are all about choosing to be sexually available and choosing to present yourself and circulate your image for the facilitation of male sexual gratification. But when it comes to women who choose not to do these things – you know, for themselves – suddenly it becomes apparent that not all choice is seen by libfems as ‘feminist’ or ’empowering’.
The idea that feminism can encompass two opposite viewpoints puzzles me. Feminism has one end goal, one focal point, and that is the liberation of women from male oppression, a concept that is often abbreviated to ‘equality’ and can lose a little in the translation. Somewhere along the line this concept became bastardised, and now there is a whole movement that calls itself feminism and whose one policy is that ‘women can choose to do whatever they want’, and in the act of ‘choosing’ their actions become ‘feminist’.
So this policy of ‘choice’ has led to patriarchal society devoting itself to encouraging women to ‘choose’ actions that further subjugate women and empower men. Women telling other women that being sexually available for men or presenting yourself in the sexualised manner that men enjoy is ’empowering’ is one of the neat tricks that patriarchy employs.
Suggesting to women who have found a way to feel important and valued by the patriarchy that their ‘freely chosen’ choice to have lots of sex with men is not an act of feminism gets a similar reaction to when you suggest to men that their video games or porn might not be just harmless fun. They get very angry, very quickly.
They will assure you that you are just repressed, uptight, need to get laid, haven’t met the right man, call you a prude, a pearl-clutcher, anti-sex, and so on. They won’t ever look at exactly who gains from them offering themselves up to facilitate male sexual pleasure.
Many of you will think well, if that is what they are into, sex can be fun, women can enjoy no-strings sex, why should we be limited to sex within the confines of a relationship, or with a limited number of partners? Some of you may even think ‘but I love sex, and I don’t want the hassle of a relationship, so what is wrong with having as much sex as I want with whoever I want?’.
My answer is always that there is nothing wrong with expressing your sexuality in a way that suits you. But I have read so many stories from women who decided to become ‘sexually liberated’ and ended up feeling used. Who started to feel regret after every hook-up. Who felt that they were losing a part of themselves by being sexually available.
I was once, and not so long ago, of the opinion that there was no such thing as too much sex. I would have happily done it every day. The more I had the more I wanted. So when I found myself in a relationship with someone with an ‘I can take it or leave it’ attitude towards sex, things got… well… difficult…
I won’t go into detail, but suffice to say I did not always behave well in response to being given the cold shoulder. And as someone who has been on the other end of the situation, I had a lot of conflict to deal with. But when, after… well… a couple of years… I came to realise that I did not NEED sex (just like I have been saying that men do not NEED sex), and I had no right to try to manipulate a person into having sex with me, which was essentially what I was doing, I was finally able to be critical of what I had previously assumed.
I had completely absorbed the idea that my value was linked to whether or not men saw me as a sexual object. The accepted ‘norm’ within a heterosexual relationship is that the man ‘requires’ sex and he desires it from his partner, who is thus made desirable and useful. She has something of value, something he wants, and he seeks to obtain it from her. Women are ruthlessly programmed to want to be desirable and useful, to feel valuable when men want to have sex with us. It makes us feel ‘good enough’.
After being in relationships or being lusted after by various boys my entire life, I remember being greatly disturbed by the realisation that I was not aware of a single man who wanted to have sex with me. That was when I turned to online dating for the first time. I was proud of my ‘sexyness’ but being sexy means nothing if there isn’t a man there to tell you you’re doing it right.
At that stage of my life I was careful. I always chose who got to access to me. I had ‘standards’. I felt powerful. But I was not. I was an interchangeable body in a situation where any willing female of a certain body type will do.
Unshackling my identity and my self worth from my vision of myself as ‘fuckable’ was sometimes akin to an exorcism. And if I had not been so aware of the dynamics I was involved in, an awareness made possible by my understanding of patriarchal culture and radical feminism, I am sure that I would have become increasingly resentful of my partner and left him to find a man who would be more appreciative of a woman who ‘really loves sex’. There are many men out there who would love to get their hands on a woman who thinks there is power in being sexually available. And knowing what I know now, I would not want to be in the hands of any of them.
After many years with my ex, who thought that having sex with me whenever he wanted was a right that I had to oblige, the level of enthusiasm that I required in order to act like I was consenting was somewhere between ‘disgust’ and ‘ambivalence’. Yet any time that I sensed that he was losing his desire for me would also lead to anxiety, fear that there must be something wrong with me or that he was getting it somewhere else. I wonder how many women out there have sex with their partners simply because getting it over with is better than putting up with his whining. Who say ‘yes’, or at least, who don’t say ‘no’, because they know that the only way he will let them get on with their lives is to let him do what he wants right now. But who, at the same time, would be suspicious or anxious if their partner suddenly stopped showing interest.
So going from that to meeting men I was actually attracted to, with whom sex was actually enjoyable, was a shock to the system. Now anything above ambivalence was my equivalent of ‘desire’, and actual desire was overwhelming. I was ill-equipped for the surge of adrenaline that came with it. My judgement was clouded. I found that I could do this thing and enjoy it and be praised for it and have my body admired and it was intoxicating. I became willing to compromise myself for it. I did things I didn’t really want to do, and told myself I should want to do them, in order to obtain more of that gratification, to validate myself, to feel important. In the quest for empowerment through sex, I began to give up my power.
Because when you are seen as an unlimited source of something that men feel entitled to, they are probably not going to be very forgiving if one day you say ‘no’. And deep down you know that they will only keep respecting your lack of boundaries as long as you keep saying ‘yes’.
I know now that I am worth more than the pleasure I can provide to men. That my sexuality is not an asset I can trade with. That my body is not a commodity. That the freedom to have sex or not have sex and be treated EXACTLY THE SAME either way is a rare and precious gift. And increasingly, I am leaning to the side of not having sex.
That’s right. When given a choice, when I have the same power, the same agency, whether I have sex or not, it really is easier and simpler not to.
So I am skeptical of women who claim to ‘love sex’ simply because that is ‘who they are’. Who are resistant to the idea that maybe they have convinced themselves that ambivalence is enthusiasm because men make it worth their while to do so. Who are resistant to the idea that if there was no social benefit to being sexually available, if they weren’t praised and elevated as some sort of ‘better woman’ for claiming to love the D, they might admit to themselves that the D really isn’t that great.
I’m not saying don’t have sex. I’m not saying don’t show skin. I really am not ‘telling women what to do’. I’m saying that internalised misogyny is called that because you don’t realise you have it. I’m saying that claiming to love sex and love servicing men sexually is not the pinnacle of being a woman. I’m saying that trashing women who are critical of your claim that you innately love sex and that sex empowers you is not good for women in general. I’m saying that even if you suck all the dicks in the world, men will still be in charge, and they’ll still see you as a hole to stick their dick in.
Bragging about your sexual availability doesn’t help women. Telling other women how great it is to be sexually available doesn’t help women. These things benefit men. All women should be able to have sex for no other reason than because they want to. Not because there are social benefits. Not because there might be consequences if they don’t. And not because they believe they are worth more if men want to have sex with them.