Bi Fidelity

It’s sex week at Good Men Project. Great posts from Amanda Marcotte and Emily Heist Moss as well as my weekly column. Today’s piece is a personal one Mythbusting Bisexual Men.

Mama, please give this a miss.

Excerpt:

In more than a quarter-century of thinking, writing, and eventually teaching about male bisexuality, I’ve become convinced that the inability to accept the reality of bisexuality in men is linked to fears about fidelity. The myth that men are naturally promiscuous while women are naturally monogamous endures. So we assume that a bisexual woman can make a commitment to either a man or a woman, and that she’ll be able to stay faithful. But we already think straight men have a hard enough time remaining true—the expectation that a bisexual man will invariably cheat is high.

…I can’t speak for every man who has dealt with a lifetime of sexual attraction to both men and women. But I can speak from my own experience, which is that monogamy is no harder for bisexuals than it is for straight or gay folks. Even if you’re only sexually attracted to females, there’s no way your wife or girlfriend can possibly embody everything that draws you to women.

One of my exes had a beautiful voice, a soprano so breathtaking it brought tears of joy to my eyes. My beloved wife, Eira, has a thousand amazing talents, but can’t carry a tune. I’m no more likely to leave the mother of my daughter for a man than I am to leave her for a member of the L.A. Master Chorale. No partner can be everything to us. Every honest heterosexual in a monogamous relationship admits that his or her partner lacks something that others might have. It’s no different for bisexuals. Really.

Before making a lifetime commitment to someone, almost everyone—gay, straight, or bi—struggles with the realization that if everything works out as they hope, they’ll never have sex with anyone other than their partners for the rest of their lives. Lots of people find that terrifying. But that’s a general fear about the loss of possibility rather than a specific anxiety about not being able to sleep with a particular type…

Read the rest here.

Redeeming the Slut: a response to Gail Dines

As one of the organizers of next month’s SlutWalk Los Angeles, I’ve noted with some sadness that this movement has been met with misunderstanding from many. How, the question is asked over and over, is it liberating for women to co-opt a hate-filled word like “slut”? Is this really the best way to fight against sexual violence?

The latest pushback against SlutWalk comes in today’s Guardian, and it comes from two renowned feminists, Gail Dines and Wendy Murphy. In their op-ed SlutWalk is Not Sexual Liberation, Dines and Murphy assert that

… the focus on “reclaiming” the word slut fails to address the real issue. The term slut is so deeply rooted in the patriarchal “madonna/whore” view of women’s sexuality that it is beyond redemption. The word is so saturated with the ideology that female sexual energy deserves punishment that trying to change its meaning is a waste of precious feminist resources.

Dines and Murphy should know better. There is a long and well-documented history of how slanderous epithets are transformed by the very people who were their targets. Think of “Bitch” (now the name of one of the most respected feminist magazines on the market) or “Cunt” (the title of Inga Muscio’s brave and groundbreaking modern classic.) Think too of the complex use of “nigger” (or “nigga”) in African-American pop culture, and of the way in which a younger generation of gay and lesbian folk have embraced “Queer.” All of these words began as cruel insults; all have been “reclaimed” by those whom the words were intended to wound.

The word “reclaim” itself is misunderstood. In the SlutWalk movement, we talk often about reclaiming the word “Slut”. Critics ask if there ever was a time when the word was using approvingly. How, they ask, can you “reclaim” as empowering something rooted in judgment and hostility? But as the dictionary will tell you, “reclaim” has multiple meanings. It’s rooted in the Latin reclamare: “to cry out” in protest. Continue reading

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Mother’s Day

It’ll be mother’s day on Sunday; my wife’s third and my own mama’s 44th.

My mother helped make me a feminist; so much of my commitment to gender justice comes from what I learned from her. At nearly 74, she remains a source of inspiration in my life, and I delight in seeing her as a happy grandmother. Here’s my particular post of thanks to her: “My life doesn’t just revolve around you”: a note of gratitude for a feminist mom

Some other mom-themed posts of mine:

“Do what I wish I had done”: mothers, daughters, and discourses of perfection

“Boob Wars”: reflections of a new father on breastfeeding, class, and feminism

Why divorce is scarier than unwed motherhood: some thoughts on class, children, autonomy, marriage and “Promises I Can Keep”

Teaching, Teen Moms, and False Intimations of Tragedy

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“Do overs”, fatphobia, and hook-up links

My short Thursday post is up at Healthy is the New Skinny: Running Out of Time. Excerpt:

At Healthy Is The New Skinny, we care about much more than encouraging good nutrition and celebrating the truth that women can be beautiful at any size. We believe that in order to be healthy on the inside, you need to accept that “your best is good enough.” We believe that whether you’re 17 or 47, you can afford to make mistakes and you can afford to take your time. The “screw-ups” you make and the “do-overs” you give yourself permission to take won’t ruin your life – they’ll be the seeds for your future success.

You’ve got more time than you think.

Feministing follows up on my post and the Village Voice piece with Men who love “fat chicks”, masculinity, and women as trophies.

And I’ve just gotten turned on to The Hookup Column, a site that explores “hook-up culture” from a non-judgmental, feminist perspective. Good stuff. Check it out.

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SlutWalking in L.A.

Just over a month ago, Toronto hosted the world’s first “Slutwalk” against sexual violence. Since then, the Slutwalk movement has grown exponentially, and dozens of satellite marches across the globe have taken place or are in the planning stages.

I wrote a post last month called Standing with the Sluts (so far, my most-linked piece of 2011) And I’m proud to be part of the steering committee that’s bringing a Slutwalk to Los Angeles! Our Facebook page is here and our “event” page is here.

We’re gathering in West Hollywood Park on Saturday, June 4, at 12 noon. We’re marching to reclaim a word, we’re marching to declare zero tolerance for harassment and sexual abuse, we’re marching in defense of the basic notion that whatever women wear and whomever they sleep with, they are entitled to dignity and respect in public and in private.

I’ll be among the speakers at “SlutWalk LA”, or SWLA as we’re abbreviating it. Please come and join us (or look up a satellite Slutwalk if you’re elsewhere).

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Thursday Short Poem: Chase’s “Young Men Dancing”

The Anglo-American poet Linda Chase has died, age 69. I’ve liked quite a bit of her stuff, this playfully erotic one in particular.

Young Men Dancing

Who were those young men dancing?
And why were they dancing with you?
And what was the meaning of all that business
around the area of the pelvis, both pelvises,
I mean, since I saw you with two of them–
two men, that is, with one pelvis each.
Though there is your pelvis too, to reckon with.
It made quite a show of itself out there
on the dance floor. Not to be overlooked
nor slighted in any way, sticking like a magnet
to the erratic rhythms of those young men,
their jeans curving and cupping and making
promises in all directions of things to come.

Which way to go, you must have asked yourself
a dozen times at least, as the young man
with the smile turned this way, and the
young man with the dreamy eyes turned that,
and you were dazed, in circles, spinning
this way and that way, brushing up against them
in confusion, body parts in gentle friction
sliding back and forth, nearly seeming like
you hadn’t meant to do it.
Did you mean to do it?

Could they feel your nipples harden?
Did they know what must have happened
as your thighs began to stick together, throbbing
to the music? Thank God there was the music
you could hide behind and make it look like dancing.
I’m wondering just how much attention
young men pay.

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“I can’t see you with a fat chick”: shame, homosociality, and desire

The title is godawful, but this Village Voice article is both interesting and important: Guys Who Like Fat Chicks.

Men who are sexually attracted to heavy women are more numerous than we’re led to believe, Camile Dodero writes, and that has important implications both for our understanding of male sexuality and for our ongoing conversation about weight and desire. The title of the piece, however, frames the attraction to fat women as an unusual fetish, an odd quirk that only a few men share. That’s unfortunate, because the article is more nuanced than that, exploring the ways in which fat has been stigmatized and heavier women have been both exploited and desexualized. The familiar myths (such as fat women’s much-hyped desperation for a relationship) are debunked. And though the article still centers men’s attraction to heavier women rather than women themselves, it’s a useful conversation starter.

In 2006, I wrote a post called Men, Women, Homosociality and Weight. So much of men’s focus on thin women, I pointed out, is wrapped up in the desire to gain status in the eyes of other men. One of the most basic tasks for heterosexual men is a simple one: learning to separate what it is that they personally find desirable from their desire to impress others. Our ruthlessly fat-phobic culture doesn’t give fat people “trophy” status, even if (as the article suggests) many men are sexually drawn to heavier women. I wrote five years ago:

Men are taught to find “hot” what other men find “hot.” The whole notion of a “trophy girlfriend” is based on the reality that a great many men use female desireability to establish status with other men. And in our current cultural climate where thinness is idealized, a slender partner is almost always going to be worth more than a heavy one. For men who have not yet extricated themselves from homosocial competition, their own self-esteem and sense of intra-male status may decline in direct proportion to their girlfriend’s weight gain.

Let me stress that this is absolutely not women’s problem to solve! My goal is not to make women who gain weight feel bad; protecting a fragile male ego is not a woman’s responsibility. The key thing men need to do is get honest about their own desire to use female desireability to establish status in the eyes of other men. And here’s where pro-feminist men can do a terrific service by challenging one another and holding each other accountable for the ways in which we are tempted to use our wives and girlfriends as trophies.

When I linked to the Village Voice piece on my Facebook yesterday, a friend asked if I had ever dated a “fat chick.” It reminded me that when my 2006 post appeared, one of my colleagues, a very heavy woman with whom I am very close, remarked “I could never see you with a fat girlfriend.”

I wasn’t surprised by the comment. When it comes to relationships, we expect a disconnect between what people say and what they do. Many heavy women do have painful stories of men who were quite happy to fuck them in private but refuse to date them in public. Continue reading

Change and disclaimers

I’ve been blogging at this site for more than seven years; my archives go back to January 2004. And though my views on many issues have remained unwavering, there are a few topics about which I’ve had a fairly profound shift in recent years. Particularly around pornography and sex work, I’ve moved from a fairly traditional, hostile view to one that is far more nuanced. As anyone who reads through my archives will notice, there’s a fairly big shift that takes place in my writing around 2008.

Of course, people still cite some of my older work, and recently this post about the Suicide Girls reappeared, quoted both approvingly and critically. And I re-read it for the first time in a while, and I winced. I don’t repudiate the spirit of what I wrote, but I squirm at the reflexive paternalism I sense now. This post from last fall better reflects where I am now.

My views on my own sexual relationship haven’t shifted at all. I still call myself “Eira-sexual”, still working with a calm certainty on directing all of my sexual energy towards my wife. Even in prolonged “dry periods” (as when we had first become parents), I sent all of my sexuality towards that relationship. Not out of guilt, of course — but out of a sense that this kind of unidirectional sexuality was and still is the best path for my own growth. But I’m more leery than ever of extrapolating universal truths from my own experience. No one needs a smug puritan.

It’s no accident that my views on sexuality (including porn and sex work) became substantially more liberal when I became a Dad, something I’ve touched on before and need to touch on again.

But for now, the question is this: do I need to revisit everything I wrote about porn and sex work before 2008 and stick a disclaimer on it? Do I take the older posts down altogether? Thoughts welcome.

The “already” of choice, the “not yet” of certainty: a review of “Undecided”

I’ve written often about the Martha Complex and young women’s perfectionism. And I’m not the only one: since Courtney Martin’s Perfect Girls, Starving Daughters hit the shelves four years ago, many other books and articles have looked at this same phenomenon. In too many instances, however (and I plead partly guilty to this) our capacity to illustrate the problem exceeds our ability to propose a workable solution to the perfectionism crisis. We see the wrong more clearly than we see the right.

One new book does offer a more promising road map for women stuck on the ceaseless treadmill: Undecided: How to Ditch the Endless Quest for Perfect and Find the Career-and Life-That’s Right for You. Written by the mother-daughter team of Barbara and Shannon Kelley and published by the feminist Seal Press, Undecided is a helpful, funny, winsome guide to navigating through both perfectionism and its close cousin, “analysis paralysis.”

The Kelleys recognize that for the relatively privileged young women who are the target audience of their book, the sheer number of available choices (for careers, relationships, cities) can seem overwhelming. But they offer this helpful reminder:

The choices that paralyse us now were earned — not so long ago — by women who were dismayed (and often infuriated) by how few choices they and their sisters had. And a certain measure of our difficult in navigating these choices has to do with the fact that they’re just so new.

This generation of Millenials is caught between an “Already and a Not Yet” that fuels and exacerbates the perfectionism/choice surplus crisis. For at least a great many young American women (not enough, as poverty statistics continue to make clear) we’ve already created unprecedented opportunities for autonomy and agency. But we have not yet broken the powerful cultural stranglehold of older ways of thinking that condition young women not only to be people-pleasers, but to be terrified of failure. What we have not yet done is give young women sufficient permission to fuck-up; the “one mistake can ruin your life” narrative still holds sway. Continue reading

Machismo and mortality

My piece today at the Good Men Project: Men with ‘Macho’ Attitudes Die Early.

Excerpt:

In just a few months, I will have outlived my father’s father. That’s a haunting thought, especially as I have a very young daughter. Heloise is only 2; my wife and I took a long sweet time to become parents. If I am to see my little girl grow middle-aged, I am keenly aware I need to make different decisions than my father and grandfathers made before me. I can’t prevent every accident, of course, and even the most careful attention to diet, exercise, and doctor visits isn’t a perfect prophylaxis against untimely death. All any of us can do is improve our odds. And improving those odds means letting go of the foolish masculine ideal that demands we treat our bodies as if they were indestructible.

One of the defenses of the macho ethic is that it encourages men to be strong and tough to protect and defend their families and communities. Even if that were true, you can’t protect if you’re not present. The tragedy of traditional masculinity is that it shortens men’s lives; the scandal is that it does so in the name of making them better husbands, fathers, brothers, and sons.

We need to remind men that part of being a “real man” is being mentally, emotionally, and physically present for the people who love and rely upon us. Being present—and staying present—requires us to be better stewards of our bodies and our spirits. It doesn’t mean hypochondria or endless introspection. It means remembering that our value doesn’t lie only in our capacity to defend or to provide. It lies in our capacity to love, to connect, and to nurture.

We can do none of those things if we aren’t there.