Feminism ruins everything

Feminism has been accused of a lot of ills. It's been said that feminism causes women to leave their husbands, take up witchcraft and become lesbians (seriously). Feminism has been accused of emasculating men and boys, demanding special treatment for women, wanting to institute a matriarchy and much, much more.

As a feminist, obviously I can see these accusations for what they are; the resentful cries of those who benefit from the status quo disliking the fact they might actually have to cede some spaces at the table of power. I recognise that feminism has only ever benefited my life, as well as that of the men and women around me. Do I have rights over my own body? For that, I need to thank a feminist. Do I have the freedom to have my own bank account, passport and own property? Yup - and for that, I need to thank a feminist. Is any job I wish to do open to me? Yup - thank a feminist. Am I educated? Thank a feminist. Am I free to choose a life without marriage or children should I wish? Thank a feminist. And so on.

However, one way in which I will concede that feminism seriously arses up one's life is when it comes to dealing with popular culture. Once you start becoming aware of the myriad ways in which pop culture perpetuates sexism, it becomes very difficult to enjoy any of it any more. I love music videos, but I've given up flicking through the music channels because I'm tired of the fact that female artists don't seem to be permitted to wear more than a few handkerchief's worth of fabric in them any more, while male artists are of course, always fully clothed. I love films, but I can't watch any of them any more without considering if they pass the Bechdel Test (and pitifully few still do); I was also seriously depressed by the fact that the last two films I went to see at the cinema (The Big Short and Deadpool) both contained totally unnecessary scenes in strip clubs, yet again using the sexualised female form as window dressing to films whose storylines gained absolutely fuck-all from the inclusion of those scenes.

"In a certain light, feminism is just the long, slow realization that the stuff you love hates you." 
- Lindy West

Recently, I tried watching Blazing Saddles, the famous Mel Brooks cowboy film spoof from 1972 that everyone tells me is so hilarious. Given the era, I expected the humour to be somewhat retrograde, but in the end I lasted about 15 minutes after hearing racial slurs against black and Chinese people and homophobic slurs pepper the dialogue so casually that it turned my stomach. I gave up watching; I just couldn't find it funny. It was too vile. Seeing privileged white men leaving two black men up to their necks in quicksand didn't seem like a funny relic from another time - it seemed more like an eerie metaphor for what's still going on in many parts of the USA today.

Intersectional feminism has given me such exacting standards for pop culture that it's ultimately very hard for anything to measure up. I still haven't bothered watching Jessica Jones because 1) I'm tired of being told to be grateful any time a 'kick-ass' female protagonist features - after all, are men expected to cheer every time a man who's not a total twat features in a film or TV show? I think not - and 2) because I'm not sure what exactly is supposed to be so progressive about another young, long-haired white woman who's so slim she looks like she'd struggle to lift a spoon of cornflakes kicking the crap out of baddies. Buffy the Vampire Slayer was showing that nearly 20 years ago. Also, I was pretty dismayed, but not surprised, to read about fat-shaming in Jessica Jones. Seems you can be a heroine as long as you're not fat, or unfeminine, or not conventionally attractive. Woo fucking hoo for progress.

Whenever I watch a film, I'm not just looking out for whether it passes The Bechdel Test - even though it is seriously depressing how few films still contain two female characters who talk to each other about something other than a man, I mean how fecking LOW is that setting the bar! - but I'm looking out for whether it portrays women as anything other than slim, young, white and femme.  I'm also asking myself questions like: does the female lead constantly have perfect hair and make-up even when she's just woken up, or is supposed to be trudging through a war zone? Points off (and yo! Jennifer Connolly in Blood Diamond). Are there any old, fat or butch women who are allowed to be full, richly drawn characters? Orange is the New Black has torn up the rule book on how TV shows can depict women, now it'd be nice if film-makers would catch on to the notion that there's a captive audience happy to see women portrayed just as they actually are and give us some female ensemble movies. It'd be even nicer if we reached a point where female ensemble movies were no longer considered worthy of comment. A male friend of mine watched the criminally underrated movie Set It Off the other day, and remarked how he didn't even really notice that the four leads were women.
Maybe that's because women are people, and when you write roles for them that treat them like this, rather than like some exotic, incomprehensible species, gender is irrelevant to whether they're good characters or not.

So yes, I blame feminism for making me aware of all this. I blame it for making me unable to watch the trailer for Eddie the Eagle without thinking "FFS, another underdog film about a man's story. Where's the fucking film about Flo-Jo, or the Williams sisters?", for making me head straight home after watching The Big Short and going online to find out that one of the major players who predicted the 2008 financial crisis was actually a woman; Meredith Whitney, who features precisely erm, nowhere amongst the main (all male) characters even though she was in the book that the film is based on (and also, CHRIST how badly did that film waste the fantastic Marisa Tomei?!). I blame it for making me not willing to give a pass to men who tell me they "just didn't notice" or "just didn't think it was that big a deal" when I mention the above to them, and invariably leave me having to bat away their bruised egos and butthurt demands that I don't lump them in with AllOtherMen when I suggest that perhaps not noticing and not thinking it's that big a deal are actually pretty typical reactions when you're not a member of the group being shat on.

But I thank feminism too, for giving me the confidence to not put up with any of that shit, to not give my attention and money to media that demonstrates little but contempt for my gender, to not tolerate in my life men who are immediately hostile to any mention of feminism while simultaneously demanding to be acknowledged as Nice Guys, to go out and buy books by women, about women, see movies directed by women, starring women, and not just twenty-something slim long-haired white women sporting perfect make-up, but women of color, fat women, butch women, punky women, gay women, trans women, completely average women, ugly women, old women, consume TV series that do more than just pass the Bechdel Test, support art made by women, and pretty much fight the stereotype of the passive moronic consumer who will just take what they're given and therefore justify executives saying "we have to keep making more of the same thing because that's what people WANT." I thank feminism to alerting me to the fact I have a choice in what media I consume, and a choice to make people aware of it (they too, of course, have the choice to reject this awareness and paint me as unreasonable and reactionary, but that itself is also a silver lining because it alerts me to the fact this is a person with whom I probably don't want to have much interaction). I thank feminism for showing me there are other options.

So yes, in one way feminism ruins everything. But it also forces you to wonder: was that "everything" really worth so much anyway? Was it really "everything?" Or was it just the sexist, racist, heteronormative, capitalism-loving slice of mainstream media you were taught to blindly accept?
Long may the ruination continue.

Dating while feminist: Thoughts on "playing hard to get"

Recently, while seeking advice on navigating my increasingly tangled and tumultuous love life, I got told on two separate occasions that I should play more "hard to get." This advice always puts me on the defensive, for several reasons:

 

1) The feminist reason. The very notion that anyone, but especially women, should treat romantic interactions as a game to be played, is fraught with sexist assumptions. Such as the assumption that women are manipulative, dishonest and underhand. Or the assumption that men are big, dumb creatures who can be toyed with as long as you use sex as your weapon and make sure you have them by the penis at all times. It strikes at the notion of love and sex as an arena in which human beings view and respect each other as full and equal people, and instead constructs it as a battlefield upon which we see each other as pawns, conquests or malleable lumps of clay. It also, unfortunately, feeds into the language of rape culture. If women "play hard to get", then surely what they say can't really be trusted? A "no" must really mean "keep pushing me", a "I'm not interested" must actually translate to "I want you to pester me". I know it's not my responsibility to dismantle rape culture through my romantic actions, but I'd be lying if I said that the idea of playing games to get what you want doesn't disturb me precisely because I believe it makes it easy for rapists and abusers to excuse their actions. "Well, we all know women don't say what they mean, right?" is the underlying presumption whenever someone tries to weasel their way out of the fact they disregarded a woman's refusal of consent. Ergo, if I don't say what I really mean in my dating life - i.e. "I really like you and want to do sexy stuff with you," as opposed to "Meh, maybe I'll see you around," -  aren't I just contributing to that myth? Shitty as it is that I even have to think like that, it's a concern and I believe, a valid one.

 

2) The undiagnosed Asperger's reason. I'm very literal minded. I say what I mean, and I believe that this means everyone else must do too. This often leaves me confused when I realise people are joking, exaggerating or simply downright lying. I understand the concept of lying or bending the truth to save someone else's feelings, but I would generally rather avoid a subject than try and employ this skill, as I am not a good liar. I am inherently truthful, and although I'm neurotypical enough to realise that you can deliver the truth without being hurtful (or that there's times when it's best to say nowt), I generally find the socially acceptable codes of dishonesty extremely difficult to fathom. I don't like saying to someone "I'll be back in 5 minutes," if I'm more likely to be 8 minutes, and I don't like it when someone does it to me. I have a need for certainty, and find the lack thereof in every day life extremely anxiety-inducing - although I'd add that, generally I get through and force myself to be flexible, even though I will never be a "chilled" person.

 

But when it comes to romantic interactions, I cannot understand the point of lying or pretending. Why would I pretend I'm less interested in someone than I really am? How is that going to help anything or anyone? If someone cannot find me appealing simply because I'm showing enthusiasm about them, then aren't we kind of doomed from the start? Someone made the analogy to me of how if you have 20 chocolate bars in your cupboard, you're still more likely to go to the shop and buy the one chocolate bar you don't have, because your contrary brain will naturally want the one that's not most easily on offer. Sorry, but if someone's brain operates that way when it comes to choosing a partner, I'm not sure that's a person I want to be with. I believe that life is short, we shouldn't waste time, and if you like someone, you should tell them.

 

3) The non-mainstream sexual culture reason. I've spent a fair amount of time in the kink community, and while it can be a mixed bag when it comes to finding enlightened sexual attitudes, one of the things I really, really like about it is that it forces people to be honest about what they want. If you want to play with someone, you ask. You have a conversation, and if signs are good, then a negotiation. You might talk to that person's other play partners to get feedback on what they're like. Then you play, and hopefully keep talking afterwards. And, if it went well, play again. Look at that, how simple does it sound? Pleasure, fun and all because two people communicated. Crazy thought, isn't it?

 

This is one of the reasons I get irritated when people try to impose mainstream sexual values on me, and tell me to behave in ways that are anathema to the way I operate. I'm highly sexed, kinky, polyamorous and looking. Why the HELL would I pretend I'm not interested in someone when I am? All that's going to lead to is more frustrated nights spent self-loving and wondering why you're alone. If you play hard to get in the kink community, then you will end up exactly where logic would dictate - alone. There is no substitute for simply being an adult and approaching someone.

 

4) The feminist reason, again. The whole notion of "playing hard to get" particularly winds me up because I'm a very sexual woman, driven by my desires to the point where my behaviour and feelings sometimes makes me feel like "the man" in a relationship, if you'll forgive the horrendous gender stereotyping for a second. Sex is important to me, I enjoy some things that would make some people's hair curl, and I look for partners I can enjoy those things with. I am not interested in monogamy, long term couplehood, marriage or babies. I do believe in treating all my partners with respect and care, and enjoy feeling connected to the people I play with, but long-term commitment only holds boredom, depression and resentment for me. I absolutely hate the gendered stereotypes that dictate women want love, commitment, marriage and kids, while men only want no-strings attached sex and only "give in" to women's demands in order to have regular sex on tap - not least because my preferences and those of many other women I've met, fly in the face of it. Yet, the idea of "playing hard to get" insidiously feeds into this idea, because it implies women don't really like sex, but instead we just withhold it and dangle it in front of men to make them pursue us.  

 

Well, fuck that. I do like sex, and I'd like to enjoy it with the people I find attractive. If telling them I find them attractive and want to have sex with them is somehow going to turn them off, then it's probably just as well I find that out sooner rather than later, because they've clearly got a problem with women being honest about their desires. This idea that withholding makes one more attractive is dangerous, but it also does a massive disservice to female desire and agency. Again, life is short - why would I waste a single second pretending I'm less interested in someone than I really am, just to fulfil a toxic stereotype of the withholding woman on a pedestal?

 

All this said, it's hard to ignore the voices, especially when nothing in your romantic life seems to be going right. Due to reason 2, I'm not sure I would even know how to play hard to get even if I had any desire to, because I'm just not wired to be a game-player. I'm instinctively truthful, sometimes clumsily so, and any attempts I made to be 'aloof' would probably end up being like Michael Scott in The Office episode "The Negotiation" where he tries to unsettle an employee by being silent, but can't help himself from announcing "I am declining to speak first." Generally, I'm glad of this, but it can be a lonely spot to occupy when you can't be sure if anyone is returning the courtesy of your honesty, or if they're all hiding the truth from you behind barriers of subtle social codes you're unable to detect. I know they say "love the player, hate the game," but I'm not sure I can respect anyone who thinks I'm something to be toyed with, or who would find me more attractive if I toyed with them.

Pointing The Finger

One of my very first posts on this blog, back in the heady days of 2008, was titled 'Who To Blame and Where To Aim', a question that I think remains very salient for feminists. I feel like recently I've encountered a lot of feminists asserting that any kind of critique of women's behaviour is not feminism, and that what we should be defending is women's right to choose to behave however they want. A reworking of the famous quote (wrongly) attributed to Voltaire, if you like - "I may disagree with every thing you do, but I'll defend to the death your right to do it."

 

A lot of my feminism falls down on this side of the fence, insofar as I've spent a lot of time writing in defence of kinky women and have also tried to examine and challenge my own assumptions about sex work and its implications for feminism by reading blogs by sex workers and listening to what they have to say on social media etc. I'm very aware that there are radfems out there who would condemn me for 'doing feminism wrong' because I enjoy and practise sexual submission with men, and that those same radfems have also done a hell of a lot of hating on trans women and sex workers, and that's not a brand of feminism I want any part of. I do want a feminism that's broad, and open, accepting of difference, and able to reckon that, while we may be all be conditioned by social forces, we are all doing the best we can to live happy and fulfilling lives within that context.

 

But. I do come unstuck when feminism seems diluted to simply mean 'supporting women's right to do/say whatever the fuck they want.' Because by that logic, we'd support pro-life women. We'd support Sarah Palin and Michelle Bachman. We'd support Equalities Minister Maria Miller, who has voted against adoption rights for gay couples and who has spoken in favour of reducing the UK abortion limit. We'd support hateful troll Samantha Brick, who wrote a misogynistic, body-shaming article that I refuse to even read because I've seen the massive trauma it has caused to countless women who have suffered from eating disorders.

 

And presumably, we don't support those women. We support a free society where they can say things that we may disagree with, because it's important to know their views exist so we may address them, challenge them, and maybe even try to educate those promoting them. But I know that I, for one, am not going to unquestioningly endorse those women in the name of feminism. Yet, I feel like certain feminists leap upon any criticism of another woman's behaviour as divisive to the sisterhood, and I'm not going to be railroaded into that. Yesterday I was criticised for using the term 'self-defeating women'. I can see why it might have pissed someone off. It would piss me off to be called that, especially by, say, a radfem describing me as thus because I'm kinky. The person in question suggested that all I meant by this phrase was 'women who disagree with you', and to an extent they were right, but that's not all there is to it. I do deem certain behaviour by women as making life harder for themselves and other women - pro-life women would be a very good example of that. How can you tell me that female senators who sign off bills making abortion more difficult to access for other women are doing anything but attacking their own rights, and the rights of every other woman unfortunate enough to live in that state? If that's not self-defeating, I don't know what is.

 

But OK, that's an extreme example, involving laws which obviously affect people's lives. Other examples are more nebulous. I may feel Page 3 girls make life harder for other women by normalising the trivialisation of women and their bodies, whereas those who defend the glamour models' right to work or who find boobs in newspapers unproblematic would disagree. Radfems may feel I make life harder for other women by 'eroticising violence against women' (I use quotes to show I do not believe this for a second) when I participate in kink, publicly or privately. Obviously I'd feel that radfems are making life much harder for me by imposing huge guilt and shame on a part of my life that brings me pleasure and peace. Abolitionists may feel sex workers make life harder for women by sending out the message that the female body is purchasable, and that  the male right to sex is all-important. Sex workers may feel abolitionists make life harder for them by advocating draconian laws, stereotyping and patronising them, and refusing to listen to their voices or acknowledge their ability to choose/enjoy their work. Ultimately, we can all call each other self-defeating, and I don't suppose we'd ever reach much consensus. Nor, as has been noted with regard to constant Twitter battles over the last few months, will this in-fighting do much to advance the fight against the patriarchy.

 

But I suppose that's the exact crux of the issue. Wherein lies the patriarchy? The person I was debating with yesterday stated that they supported women's right to do whatever they wished, and that their beef was not with female behaviour, but with patriarchy.

 

So are we to believe that patriarchy never influences women?

 

Anyone who's read that Samantha Brick article, or one by Liz Jones, or Melane Philips, or Phyliss Schlafly, might beg to differ. So how do we argue against their poisonous views if we're not going to consider the idea that some of us may make choices that are damaging to women? If 'choice' is our answer to everything, then do we have to conclude that Christina Hoff Sommers' claim that rape reporting in colleges must be hugely exaggerated as a result of a feminist conspiracy is as intelligently arrived at as our own belief that rape is underreported and not taken seriously enough? I mean, she's presumably an intelligent woman with agency of her own which I as a fellow feminist should respect as much as I respect my own. So where do I find the safe space to say that Sommers' views are toxic, damaging, and very likely influenced by a culture which encourages women not to challenge sexism, without being accused of just pissing all over someone I happen to disagree with? If all-encompassing courtesy to women I think are behaving harmfully prevents me from saying Sommers is wrong and harmful in the first place, then how can I hope to get to a point where I can debate with her and try to show her alternative viewpoints? I'm not going to accept that her view has equal weight to mine, just in the name of sisterhood. I accept that her right to hold and state that view is equal to mine, but other than that, I think she's fucking wrong, and I'm going to say so.

 

I can get on board with a feminism that reminds us finger-pointing isn't one way, that we have to look back at ourselves and our own prejudices before we criticise others. But I can't get on board with one that purports to erase and bland out all potential objections to female behaviour in the name of supporting choice. That leaves feminism fragmented to nothing but individualism - something many of us criticised the late, famously anti-feminist, Margaret Thatcher for promoting. That doesn't mean we shouldn't also be criticising male behaviour, damaging patriarchal traditions and structures, and influences that mean women may engage in shitty behaviour as a result of lack of a better alternative. That doesn't mean we shouldn't support the right of women to do things we find distasteful, difficult to understand, or downright bizarre. But if we have no standard against which to measure what moves feminism forward and what holds it back, then feminism means nothing.

And I want my feminism to mean something.

Pleasure or Pressure? The Alleged 'Orgasm Gap'

I read this piece from Alternet on 'The Orgasm Gap' with interest. Subtitled "The Real Reason Women Get Off Less Often Than Men and How to Fix It", the piece considers how "Freudian echoes, anatomical mischaracterizations and gender stereotypes are part of the logic naturalizing the orgasm gap - but there is nothing natural about it." In it author Lisa Wade makes some very valid points, including her demolition of the pesky myth that women just don't need to get off as much as men do, that we prefer cuddles to orgasms, and that we're the more "giving" gender (spew). I do agree that she's bang on that "we often bifurcate the sexual experience in line with gender norms: men are sexual (they experience desire) and women are sexy (they inspire desire)" and that  this damaging idea of women as passive objects to be looked at in turn harms women's ability to be active sexual agents. 

 

(And Christ, if I hear one more person justify the constant objectification of women viz the notion that "the female body is just nicer to look at", I'm going to shove my thread veins against their eyes. Newsflash - the female body can be just as disgusting and fugly as the male body, and I should know: as a care worker I've seen more than my fair share of naked bodies, young and old. The female body that apologists for objectification refer to is a toxic stereotype not representative of the majority of women - it's airbrushed, often surgically enhanced, achieved through the kind of regimes a racehorse would baulk at, and very often fuck-all to do with real, natural femininity. Because Mother Nature actually designed our 'beautiful female bodies' to have cellulite, hair, wobbly bits and funny smells.)

 

Anyway, back to this old orgasm gap. I agree with Lisa Wade that there probably is a correlation between lack of female pleasure and the fact that women are still told that their "primary goal in sex is to deliver a sexy body can focus her attention on how she looks instead of how she feels." Although I have to say, if it really is true, as Wade spectates (without providing anecdotal or statistical evidence) that some women are afraid to have orgasms because their face or body might contort in a potentially 'unnattractive' way, then I find that sad beyond belief.

 

And this is where I find myself a little unconvinced by this study. Or rather, by the conclusions drawn from it. The first study the author cites is 13 years old, and I think it's fair to say that the sexual landscape has changed a lot since the year 2000. Not necessarily for the better, sure, but things move fast in this day and age. Who had heard of vajazzles, ass-to-mouth or read openly about bondage on the London Underground 13 years ago? So I'll be taking that one with a pinch of salt to start with, and as for the second study she cites, it's a study of college students. Hardly representative of the population at large in terms of age or class, and it was only a study of heterosexual students so we can't know how the orgasm rate of LGB students compared. I think this is a key omission in terms of the author's determination to paint women as orgasm-starved victims, because although in some cases this may be true, I think it's painting with far too broad strokes to imply we all are, and that this is because of some failure of feminism or victory of patriarchy.

 

Wade presents the fact that women are much less likely to orgasm during a single 'hook-up' than during a second or 3rd encounter, or a relationship, as some kind of shocking revelation. Personally, I thought the ratio of 3 female orgasms to every 1 male orgasm was actually pretty good going! Not because I consider the female orgasm less valuable than that of a man's - quite the opposite. Making a woman come is a bloody tough thing to achieve. I was put me in mind of an exchange in Kevin Smith's film Clerks, where Dante makes the (admittedly crude statement) "Making a male climax is not all that challenging: insert somewhere close and preferably moist; thrust; repeat...Now, making a woman cum - therein lies a challenge." Much as it is a generalisation, and I do think male sexuality can be oversimplified, I also think most of us would end up agreeing. I remember in my Sexuality & Society classes at university discussing why the female equivalent of Viagra hadn't been successful, and the gist was that female sexual response was still extremely poorly understood, and very difficult to measure. Our tutor summed it up thus - if male sexuality was depicted as a machine, it would be a box with a clear 'ON/OFF' switch. The female equivalent would  be a box covered in numerous mysterious wires, lights and switches without any clear labels or indications of what they did, and you might get a different reaction from flipping a switch the second time compared to when you flipped it the first. Or no reaction at all.

 

So with this borne in mind, why are we supposed to be so scandalised by the idea that when young women sleep with other young men (who we assume are less experienced in the ways of lady pleasing than say, their 30 or 40-something counterparts) who have never encountered their bodies before, they're less likely to come? To me it's less a sign of a patriarchal victory and more simply evidence that nature is a bitch. The female orgasm is tricky and elusive, and what works for one woman might leave another one completely cold. That's why it also makes sense that when a couple hooks up more than once, or gets into a relationship with each other, the woman's orgasm rate rises. Practise makes perfect, we all know that, and familiarity with your partner's body sure as hell helps too. However, Wade concludes that the lack of female orgasms during hook ups must be down to lack of men's investment in their partner's pleasure, backing it up with a statement from a male who says he's "all about making her orgasm" when with a long-term partner, but "in a hookup...I don't give a shit".

 

It's an unfortunate quote, and indeed may reflect many other men's attitudes, although it's important to remember we're not told this and Wade has just cherry-picked one depressing vox-pop out of thousands. The quotes she includes from women are also depressing - they speak of not expecting an orgasm out of hook ups, prioritising men's pleasure, and being too insecure to ask for their own pleasure. And yeah, that's a problem in itself. But Wade's article does seem to contain an implicit message that hook-ups are bad in and of themselves, and relationships are the answer to all. And on that note, frankly, I call some serious bullshit. I've been in very long-term relationships, and I've had hook-ups, and I can honestly say that my likelihood of getting an orgasm is increased by one thing and one thing only - me doing stuff to myself. Whether that's solo, or with the guy involved, that's the only way I've ever been able to achieve it. It matters not whether the guy has known me for four years or four weeks, that's the way it's always been. And to be frank, it has actually made me feel more uptight when the guy in question has decided he's going to be The One to manage to give me an orgasm on his own, because it inevitably involves him reading prescriptive sex manuals ('Do this and it'll drive her wild!' Oh really, will it? EVERY woman? All 3.5 billion of us?), trying out various techniques on me that do absolutely F-A for me, and generally decreasing my chances of being relaxed enough to get any pleasure, let alone a climax out of the experience.

 

I'm not shy of asking for what I want, or demanding that my needs get met, or that I get to be the one lying back having fun stuff done to me. But demanding that my partner be able to give me the Big O makes me feel like my sex life has been boiled down to a bad Cosmo spoof. I don't necessarily want to come during penetrative sex, because the massive amount of concentration involved makes me feel totally disconnected from my partner, as if I'm using him as a dildo substitute. I might want to have my orgasm before penetration, or after, and that's something me and him can do together, which is all groovy. That said, regardless of the radfem sniffiness about such a claim, I also enjoy penetration in and of itself - it doesn't have to make me come. I might feel satisfied without an orgasm at all during the session (this is not BS - it does sometimes happen), and the prescriptive model of sex that dictates your sex is a feminist failure if both of you don't come is not any more helpful to me than the model that dictates male pleasure is all. A readthrough of Shire Hite's Report on Female Sexuality is telling, with women stating,"Now there is such much emphasis on orgasm, a person would feel abnormal not having one" and "I feel a lot of pressure both from men and from women's liberation, to have orgasms or insist on having an orgasm". One interviewees response to the pressure to be coming all over the shop sums up my exact feelings - "I'm not...a two-ring circus".

 

Wade's focus on apparent male selfishness also doesn't reflect my own experiences at all. Sure, my evidence is personal and anecdotal, but then so are the statements she uses to imply men 'don't give a shit' about female pleasure. As I mentioned above, I've had partners who are eager to a fault to try and resolve the orgasm gap between us - after my first sexual experience, the guy in question rather sweetly apologised for the fact I didn't come. I almost laughed out loud and snorted "I didn't expect to!", but held back out of politeness. But I was secretly thinking, 'C'mon dude, go read some feminist responses to Freud. What we just did may have been lovely, but my body ain't set up to orgasm from that'. I wasn't bothered - I had learnt at an early age that orgasms were a gift I could give myself, and let's just say I was always very generous with myself throughout my teen years. And me and this guy were young and inexperienced - yes, we were college students - so I hardly expected to be hitting heights of tantric amazingness anyway. While I agree with Lisa Wade that a model of sex where female pleasure is included and given equal weight to men's is certainly one that can never be promoted enough, I don't think measuring feminism's success by counting orgasms is accurate or helpful. Especially when you're focusing on a very skewed portion of society, who as well as being young and inexperienced, are often obnoxious, impulsive, selfish, insecure and crap at communicating. I might expect academic excellence from college students (sometimes), but I sure as hell don't expect maturity from them, and that includes in sexual matters.

 

As a commenter in the Hite report put it, the 'right' to have orgasms "has sometimes turned into an oppression". And in a society where there's far too many forces dictating How We Should Be Fucking, that's hardly better than when women were considered to have no right to an orgasm at all.