dabbling in asexuality

Having grown up a tomboy, I spent most of my childhood insisting that I was a feminist, but always attempting to ensure that I never became a "crazy feminist." Looking back, my early stabs at feminism could at times be easily misconstrued as a minor gender identity crisis. I gave up pink at the age of 6, and began wearing t-shirts, sports jerseys, soccer shorts, and sweatpants every day of my life. In kindergarten, we were supposed to line up in two different lines: the traditional Boys' line and Girls' line. Quite the young radical, I took it upon myself to stand in the boys' line whenever possible. I even made up a catchy little chant in which I would point over to the girls' line and say "girls' line" and then point back to the line I was standing in and say "boys' line." If I remember correctly, I had a dance to go along with this too. This was also the point in my life where I insisted upon wearing backwards baseball caps alllll the time. When I think about these years, I realize that I sincerely wanted to be a boy. When kids in my school would ask me if I wanted to be a boy, I wouldn't think twice about saying yes. Much to my parents' pleasure, this did end up proving to be a phase in my life. Seeing as how it was such an innocent age, I was very confident and comfortable with myself. I was an only child showered with attention from my parents, so it's safe to say that I probably loved myself as a child. I liked my body, and I never had a problem with the organs I had been supplied with (aside from a short phase as a toddler when I repeatedly tried to pee standing up since my dad got to). My desire to be a boy simply came from what I associated being a girl with. As a kid, I associated being a girl with being a sissy. When I was 5, I loved sports, and I loved winning. I didn't want to wear dresses because I didn't want to be treated as a girl. I wanted to be able to beat all the boys in sports, and most of all, I wanted to be taken seriously. Somehow, even at that point in time, I managed to pick up on how the concept of femininity often implied being submissive or weak.

So, through all of my childhood, I fought to prove that girls could do anything that boys could do, and even do it better a lot of the time. I had lots of female friends, but none of them seemed to share my passion for competing with boys, so most of my friends were actually boys, and it was completely beyond me to ever consider that boys like these could be the reason for an inequality in the sexes. Only the crazy, lesbian, bra-burning feminists didn't like men, and I would always like my best friends. However, fast-forward a decade, and I have reluctantly become the crazy, man-hating feminist that I always swore I'd never become. Don't get me wrong, most of my friends are still men, and as much as I wish this weren't the case, I'm still sexually attracted to them. It's been a steady process that followed the promise I wrote in my journal this summer to "stop letting men control my self-image." This was a goal I knew would be challenging, if not impossible. I'd noticed that I was constantly seeking this validation from men. I felt good about myself when they were interested in me, but horrendously unattractive when they weren't. This is completely normal phenomena for women everywhere, which is sad. As much as I don't like thinking about it, I can admit that one of the major forces in me trying to separate myself from the male sex was "kind of" dating someone who really fucked with my head. We'd been friends for probably about three years before we finally hooked up this summer, though I had been lusting after him almost since the beginning of our acquaintanceship. Shortly after our first encounter of this nature, I left the country for three weeks, and we kept in contact while I was away. While away, I had a countless amount of conversations with my friend who I'd traveled with about our endless dissatisfactions with men. Coincidentally, this friend is now seeing a girl for the first time in her life, and very happy about it. I came to the conclusion that, because I'd just gotten out of my only serious relationship and had not enjoyed playing the role of a girlfriend, I was fine with keeping things casual and noncommittal. After my return, this boy and I became commiserators of sorts who shared a mutual attraction. The fact that he was moving quite far away in a couple months was even more inspiration not to get attached. Needless to say, this was an interesting set-up. One I was fine with. Then, he began complicating things by asking me out to dinner or arranging to go see movies or something. Unable to deny my attraction to him, I became excited at the idea of going on what appeared to be dates (though, out of my own sensibility, I refused to label them as such... I would not be the clingy one). He would tell me what time to expect a call from him, and then I would sit around waiting for hours, and never receive one. He'd eventually contact me and always have a believable excuse as to why things didn't work out. Mind you, we did go see a couple of movies, which I was planning on paying for myself, but did not after his insistence upon being a gentleman. When he'd shit on our plans, I'd always resist calling him, so I could avoid becoming the needy girl who can't pick up hints. I'd usually call once, and then try to forget about it. Anyway, most of the time we spent together was spent watching movies, drinking, and talking. We had really similar tastes in movies, so it was a setup I enjoyed. I ended up loaning him some of my CD's and DVD's. Long story short, I saw him the night before he moved, and forgot to get my shit back. I've spent the past few months contacting him very occasionally, usually not more than once a month, to try to get all of my stuff back. He apologized profusely once for still having everything, and told me he'd mail them the very next day. This didn't happen. It's been over a month now since I've talked to him. I gather that he's back in the area now, and clearly avoiding me. Last week, I called him, knowing full well that I would be sent to voicemail, to try to both get onto cordial terms as well as to try once again to get $86 worth of my stuff back. I tried to convey that there were no hard feelings (despite this being inaccurate), and he has still not contacted me back. Anyway, I realize that none of this has to do with what I'm getting at and is really just me being pissed off at what a ridiculous, spineless puss-ass he's being... (not bitter)

Anyway, it was this particular person that, much to my dismay, probably did ignite a latent hostility toward the male sex. I looked at the type of person he was to try to figure out exactly what it was about him that had gotten me so hooked. It had started out as him being one of the only people I'd ever met who liked the same kind of music and movies as me. He was also the ever-tempting "older guy." I'm almost positive that the reason I was so attracted to him was because I viewed him as the embodiment of what I could not attain. When we first became friends, we bonded over both struggling with depression. I gave more weight to this similarity than to the endless amount of variables that made him a completely illogical match for me. We had completely different backgrounds (me - counterculture girl who loathed high school, him - tri-sport athlete who reveled in it), completely different beliefs (me- liberal atheist, him- conservative protestant), and completely different intended futures (me- get the fuck out of the midwest, go to a good school, and try to find what I'm good at, him- ?????). Upon analysis though, I realize that these were all the variables that made him seem unattainable to me, and made it a challenge to successfully seduce him.

When I look back on our little fling, I become infuriated at how he successfully turned me into the thing I swore I would avoid being. The clueless, clingy girl who can't take a hint. Though I personally know that I wasn't clingy, and merely seeking enough respect to at least be informed of when plans will not work out (plans that I never initiated), it pisses me off to no end to think that he probably views me as such. Though I'd never treated him as a boyfriend and never expected him to be a boyfriend, he somehow managed to make me out to look desperate and needy.

After this, I became even more determined to avoid being submissive in any relationship with a male. I began noticing a certain male-female dynamic between all of the couples I was around. The males were constantly belittling the females' ideas and treating them as if they were uneducated children. I can no longer tolerate the fucked up protector role that so many men assume in relationships. Even my male friends who claim to be proponents of gender equality cannot carry out these ideals toward their girlfriends. No matter how intelligent the female, her boyfriend becomes this twisted sort of father figure. This concept rings throughout our culture today. Women are "girls" for their entire lives, whereas "boys" reach a point where they become men. Our pornography is filled with women intentionally making themselves look younger by shaving their pubic hair or even pretending to be "barely legal" because this is what turns millions of men on. I got to hear a transsexual woman speak. She talked about how sexism is much more prevalent than people realize. Though she had the same resume as a woman that she did as a man, she was no longer taken as seriously during interviews, and could distinguish how differently she was being treated. After finally getting a job, her ideas were constantly dismissed until the same ideas were brought up by a male coworker. In today's society, gender equality is a myth. We've turned terrible double standards into acceptable parts of pop culture. Men are meant to seek out as many women to sleep with as possible, and the women are supposed to want a committed relationship and become unnecessarily attached to the men they sleep with. After all, women who have casual sex with multiple partners are sluts. Women continue to oppress themselves by referring to the women who act like men as sluts. In several of my classes this year, I have been the lone "feminist." In a sociology class, the instructor brought up the tradition of men always paying for dates. I spoke out against this tradition and insisted that this tradition aided the oppression of women by making them dependent on men. The tradition started when women weren't allowed to have jobs, and literally had no way of paying for themselves. Now, when we are able to get jobs, there is absolutely no reason that women should continue to expect men to pay for them. A girl brought up "chivalry" as a defense for this act. This is a common expectation that women have for men, and I view it as nothing but counterproductive to equality. Chivalry rides on the "damsel in distress" concept where women need simple tasks done for them, so as not to overexert their dainty nature. As long as men continue to have excuses to assume the role of the breadwinner or protector, women will continue to be pigeonholed into the role of homemaker or mother. In an economics class, I was the only female who stated that they would not be content with a traditional economy (men work, women stay at home as babymakers and caretakers). Two of the smartest girls I know who plan on pursuing medicine and engineering stated that they wanted to marry a rich husband, so they could just be stay-at-home moms who don't have to do anything.

I realize that this entry has gotten much lengthier than I'd intended it to, and if anyone actually reads it, since it is my first blog, I'll write a follow-up... But I'll leave with the question, even though women can now get jobs and Title 9 has been enacted, have we made any real progress?