Here is why my fuck buddy will always have a place in my heart: I am afraid to tell him how many people I've slept with because he might find the number disappointingly low.
This is now near-inexplicably reminding me of something that happened in 10th grade. I had an ideological antagonist in high school, a self-styled conservative, and we took great joy in provoking each other. One day, while in rehearsal together for a play, I said in front of the other actors, "It's hilarious that [Redacted] thinks I'm the Queen of Sin." While another actor who knew me better, and was somewhat sinful himself, laughed at the very idea, my antagonist said, almost under his breath, "Well when you've slept with half the guys in Manhattan..."My jaw actually dropped, and I exclaimed, "[Redacted]! I'm a virgin!" It was an unusual moment in that I wasn't specifically proud of my virginity (though not ashamed), and it was nice and refreshing to have it be a point of power. And it wasn't that being a virgin was inherently good, like it made me virtuous, it just made the point that you can't assume things about a person's behavior based on their beliefs and, okay, in-your-face attitude*.
Ok, back to the fuck buddy. It's awesome to know a guy, even if I only "know" him every few months, has active respect for a girl who's, well, active. No guy has asked me my number since I was 21, and it was conveniently 3 lower than his own number, so there was no drama. But it was in fact a nice intimate moment for us, asking that question, and I'd hate to think that the answer might one day be a source of contention rather than closeness. So, in summation, there should be more guys out there like my fuck buddy. Which is sort of how I end my "Dudes I Like" posts, so perhaps we should unofficially categorize him there, as well.
*Also I was pretty flattered that he thought me capable of fucking half the guys in Manhattan at the tender, chubby age of 15. Still working on it, [Redacted]!
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Final Thought (Plus Tangent)
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4 comments:
/Preface
My question below is intended only in an abstract sense; I in no way mean to challenge or cast aspersions on any particular person's choices , least of all on our kind host, whose post prompted my thought. In fact, if put to the mat, I think I'd pretty much be on the same page with her -- the more partners my partner has had, the better (and, frankly, being a virgin is a no-go for me--I don't have the mental resources to ever be someone's first ever again, given how that's worked out before...ANYWAY). Also, there are lots of good reasons why consumerism is a very good thing, as far as I'm concerned...a very long way of saying that this is really a question asked in good will...
/ Preface
Susan: your post made me wonder about some things. Like, is it bad to think that the belt notching ethos you describe is problematic, in on a more philosophical level ? It is anti-feminist?
I understand all the good arguments for NSA sex, and certainly understand the feeling/idea that a relationship is not the go-to for everyone, or even anyone, all the time. And yet...the belt notching ethos, if carried around always, seems to me to be the sexual equivalent of consumerism. That is , it's about accumulating sexual encounters as just things, without acknowledging that is...well, empty after a certain point (emphasis on the "after" of course). In a weird way, it sort of makes me think that two people thinking that having an equally varied past of sexual encounters is rather akin to thinking that liking the same Ikea couch is a helpful pre-condition.
All of which seems, well...off, to me, but I can't put my finger on why. I mean, sex is good, and if you're choosing the place and person and time, why should it ever be problematic? It certainly doesn't need to have meaning all the time...but doesn't it sometimes? And doesn't the belt notching ethos obliterate that possibility?
This comes to mind mainly because I've been walking around for the last couple of days trying to think of arguments against the asceticism espoused by the crazy Ivy League abstinence people; in particular the e-mail one of them sent to the Jezebels (well worth a quick read, promise):
http://jezebel.com/377539/harvard-virgin-leo-keliher-not-as-horny-as-the-times-made-it-sound
Here's the rub: if I disagree that sexual urges are something to be suppressed, when can I say that "just sex" is not a positive good in and of itself? Context, I know, context. But what context? (hence my "when"). I do think that sex should have levels (ie "making love" and "fucking" are both totally awesome, it just depends on your mood, right?)
Okay, I have no idea where I'm going with this, and feel free to call me out on normative paternalism, passive jealousy or whatever if that's what seems like is prompting this, but I'm perplexed. Halp!
Okay, long question. I'll do my best:
1) Dude, you know I'd totally like to have a boyfriend and try this whole "making love" thing. Thanks for rubbing it in.
2) I don't understand the Ikea couch sentence, I think there might be a word missing, and I get the feeling it is an important sentence. But liking the same Ikea couch could be consumerism, or it could be an indication of similar tastes. If you're suggesting that sexual history is just another thing two people could or could not have in common, I agree.
3) I hope I'm not seeming to suggest that everyone should notch their belts as much as possible. For one thing: I don't go around sleeping with people just to ratchet up my number, nor (to my knowledge) does anyone I know. I think calling that my "ethos" reflects a misunderstanding of most of the things I've said on this blog, and it brings to mind everyone's favorite dichotomy: your options are sex with the sole person you love, or heartless cruising just for the sake of racking up conquests. Secondly: I think I've made pretty clear on this blog that I understand that NSA sex in general isn't for everybody.
4) I've also made clear that, to me, NSA sex can have meaning. Obviously it's a different kind of meaning than when you're in a loving relationship, but please see point #1.
I guess what you're reacting to is the idea that this guy might be "disappointed" by my sexual history. That was not only an exaggeration, it is virtually without substantiation. It's part of our shtick, that we both get around--I in no way believe that he demands a high body count of every girl he sleeps with, it's just something he likes about me. And I like it about him because it makes us sexual peers.
To answer the final question, I don't think that NSA sex is EVER a positive good "in and of itself." Context ALWAYS matters. Plenty of people "score" and regret it, or aren't really into it, or do it for not-so-healthy reasons. And okay, yes, if someone planned to spend their entire life just fucking around and never having a serious relationship, I would probably think that person was missing out. I wouldn't fully understand that. Is it pathological? Who knows. It depends. But that's still not the same as spending your 20's that way--or having your eye out for the real deal but not feeling the need to deny yourself in the meantime.
Does that answer your question?
Susan,
Thanks much for your reply. What your original post really got me thinking about was not anything to do with what’s on the blog per se, but rather how to justify sex positive attitudes – which includes an appreciation for context-sensitive NSA sex, and multiple modes and periods of particular sexual behaviors—to someone (the Harvard ascetics) who rejects any kind of sex.
Sorry if it appeared if I was trying to criticize you in my question; I was not, nor was I attributing to you, as an individual, any “ethos.” That was my attempt at shorthand for the general idea of counting sexual partners – not its instantiation in any particular relationship. What occurred to me -- and it appears this is incorrect in your particular case, but again, that isn’t/wasn’t/won’t ever be my focus – is that the practice of counting up sexual partners (which most people breathing today do), of having that become a vital statistic about oneself, does, in fact, erase the context of each particular partner/encounter.
I don’t want to go off on a lit crit deep end here, but I’d argue that the act of numbering events, as opposed than narrating events, does have the effect of displacing particularity, flattening them into a… well, a score. The consumerism Ikea thing was part of that idea, however horribly expressed – my fear is that by embracing the belt notching idea that we’d all end up as a caricatures like the people depicted in Sex and the City (among other places), where sexual freedom is inextricably linked to buying things—consumerist activity , in sex as in buying fancy cars, as the only material for self-definition.
Obviously, people are muli-layered things, so what’s a score in one conversation or thought is a particularized narrative in another; but in the former moment, it seems like the anti-sex folks' critique of contemporary sex does actually have some weight , albeit only if numbers are the only thing that matter. And I was trying to figure out why/when/how that ascetic p.o.v. doesn’t make sense. But it’s not really a problem in the more complex picture your reply sketched out.
Thanks, too for clarifying in your point about being sexual peers; that makes everything make more sense, in respect to jiving with a lot of the other stuff on the blog, and elsewhere, about gender equity.
Anyway, thanks for providing all this food for thought.
Ah, I see what you're saying. And it gives me a chance to share with you my favorite theoretical rebuttal that I've never actually had the opportunity to use:
Love is bigger than sex.
I firmly believe this, and it has several ramifications. There's that concept that your virginity is a gift to give your spouse. My response has always been...I'll be giving my spouse ME. That's kind of a wow. And if it's not good enough, then that's a problem.
There's also the side point that, if you can have sex outside a relationship, you know you're not just in a relationship in order to have sex. The idea of saving yourself always implied, to me, a cynical view of love and marriage. I think it belies a fear that people won't want marriage if they don't HAVE to have it in order to ever have an orgasm. But modern relationships have proven that this isn't the case--we maybe delay marriage (for MANY social and economic reasons), but non-virgins get married all the time. To me, it's far more special to me if my theoretical husband is choosing me over the multitude of other options he has. If marriage is the ONLY option, then of course a guy would want to get married, and it may or may not have anything to do with his spouse. I want my husband to marry ME, not to marry marriage.
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