photo by mike donahue.

“In fucking, one’s insides are on the line; and the fragile and unique intimacy of going for broke makes communion possible, in human reach–not transcendental and otherworldly, but an experience in flesh of love.”
~ Andrea Dworkin ~ Intercourse ~

My brain is in overdrive right now. I’m thinking (maybe over-thinking?) the issue of sexual politics. Things may not come out coherently because I’m thinking about so many different things right now.

Let me give you some background.

Last week I was speaking with a friend through e-mail. She was telling me how she had met a man outside of her marriage and how she had to do it secretively. I also remember how she has written that she has had affairs outside of her marriages.

I was jealous of that freedom. I’m a single woman who is free to do as she pleases and yet I was jealous of a woman who is married and having affairs.

Fast forward to yesterday. I was hiking with a friend. We were discussing sexuality and monogamy and needs and fulfillment. He asked me if I knew about Sonia Johnson (I have her book, The Ship that Sailed Into the Living Room). And we discussed her views on monogamy.

I would say I’m a monogamous person. When I’ve been confronted with an open relationship or had to share in a relationship, I inevitably feel left out. I feel like the “lesser than” piece of the equation. It hurts. I don’t feel secure.

I seek monogamy for security. I seek it to feel like I matter…to one other person than myself.

I want a place in this world.

Yeah, it sounds like low self-esteem. I know. But really…I just want to be the center of attention for some time…to be the only one who gets that attention. It would be nice to feel that for once.

Or maybe it is self-esteem and I just don’t feel good enough for someone. And is that my problem? Should I be open to non-monogamous relationships?

But I’m starting to question myself. Maybe monogamy is too much to ask for. A friend told me that men want to make a choice…to not feel controlled in a situation. I can understand that. And because I want to feel like I matter, I push myself to believe I can be a part of a world that is not monogamous…even though every bone in my body screams “NO.”

*sigh*

Today, I was having a conversation with an old friend about Foucault’s repressive hypothesis and Andrea Dworkin’s views on sexuality. It is intense and lasts most of the day.

I’m not a huge fan of either Sonia Johnson or Andrea Dworkin because they tend to promote separatist views (men are not needed nor desired and women should – according to Dworkin – even create their own nation-state). While both write beautifully (and I appreciate that about them), I don’t really like their form of feminism.

And then…yeah…there’s the whole feminisim thing. I called myself a feminist long ago (my late teens and early 20s). I worked in Planned Parenthood, assisting with the abortion clinics. I was the local chapter president of NOW (until I quit because the state chapter president believed in separatism). I worked with pro-choice groups. I worked on the campaign of a pro-choice congressional representative and a senatorial representative.

And then I read Alice Walker’s discussion on being a womanist and I thought…oh, this is so much more inclusive. I like that.

And then, I thought that “humanist” (if one must have labels) fit me better. I want equality for all…not just men, not just women, not just whites or African Americans or straights or gays. Everyone. Humanist.

And anyway…I’m back into this feminist debate but it’s about sex this time and we’re discussing a woman who chose to not have sex…and a man who said sex (and repression of it) are social constructs.

And I’m thinking to myself that I can’t win.

I shouldn’t have sex at all. Or it doesn’t exist anyway. Or I should have it with anyone (or everyone). Or I will be labeled something that I may not be. Or…or…or…

And my heart starts beating faster. And I get anxious.

And then my heart hurts because this woman who chose not to have sex says beautiful things about it. And she makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry. And she makes me want to find someone to share that beauty with.

And we’re back to talking. And we talk about emotional masochism and sadism. And we discuss how Dworkin may have been a masochist and how she studied de Sade.

And then we’re on to innocence and poking at that innocence to get pain.

And I realize that I may be a masochist, poking at those tender spots just to feel something. Because when it hurts, I feel…and that feels good.

And finally, we’re talking about the narratives we weave in life and how we construct these webs to catch ourselves in. This web I’ve created today…this web narrative of my confusion and anxiety and desires and needs and wants. My narrative. My story.