Currently I am sitting on a futon in Boulder, CO in a 1980’s reproduction of a 1940’s era dress, which is all purple and orange and flowered. My hair is done up on one side. I have coral lipstick on and a quick slather of copper shadow. I’m not wearing panties. No one is at the house but me. I’m languidly sipping a cup of organic brew and thinking…
thinking about blogs.
Last night I was speaking candidly with my Loved One about goals and business ideas, internet personalities and traffic driving, all those things that go along with running your own business and/or originating a lifestyle brand or guidance mechanism. I’m currently streamlining (or streamLIONing as I like to say) my website, professional goals, and personal life. It’s intangible (for the most part) spring cleaning and it feels good. During the conversation (I was nude during said conversation, by the way, as I feel we all should be during serious life-planning), I said wistfully “I wish I could blog every day…*dramatic sigh*”
My Loved One asked, without hesitation, “Why can’t you?”
After some pause I answered with a resounding and decided:
When I first started The Way of the Courtesan last year, I was in a passionate frenzy to put together all the things I’ve learned and can offer. I did not write a business plan, I didn’t have a long term goal. I had an idea and a vision and I pushed it all out of myself and onto the web in a matter of weeks. The response to the site, and the overall message of TWOTC’s 8-pointed star philosophy has been fantastic. The response to me, too, has been great *flosses*. I was nervous to put all my “stuff” out there and even more nervous to put my bio on the web, I’ll admit that. Not so nervous that I would back down from it-pshya!- but I surely had no idea what to expect. Also, there are a LOT of things that fall under The Way’s umbrella; Beauty, Nutrition, Herbalism, Seduction, Deep spiritual searching, Sex, Relationships, Art & Design…for me these are al related, but that can be difficult to convey via the web without proper planning.
“I’m sorry, how do Marine Phytoplankton, red lipstick, kyanite, loving-kindness, and knowing how to look like you crave cock with only your eyes, all relate to each other?”
They do, seriously.
Now that some time has gone by I’ve been able to reflect and see what I like and don’t like about my site and it’s direction. I’ve begun to move things around and re-vision what I’m doing and even planning what needs to be done to get all that, you know, modern SEO shit in there with the google dohickey’s and the techy, nerd things that make your site easily searchable. Yay for me for joining the 21st. I’ve taken a step back and am asking myself- what am I doing here? What do I want to give? What do I want to own about myself, what will I contribute? Should there be visible nipples on my website?
But, back to blogging:
My Loved One went and stumped me with this question of why don’t I just blog every day if I want to? A tsunami of thoughts overwhelmed my sleepy brain and all the nudity underneath it. My blogs have been popular at times, yes. In my early 20’s in New York city I had quite a following on my livejournal (you guys remember the livejournal days? No? I don’t care. It was AWESOME), where I posted incessantly and without inhibition, all the things I felt in my tormented, poet soul (at least that’s how I looked at it). I’ve had year-long photo blogs and collaborated in art projects that all required my living out in the open. I personally find these things interesting in other people and I enjoy reading intimate musings of strangers on the web (when I have time, which is never). I think that’s what art is, too. Intimate musings, whatever your medium.
I have had conversations before about living publicly on the web, about whether it is healthy, good for business, lucrative- you name it. There is, undeniably, something satisfying about putting your thoughts down in font and releasing them into the wild, blue yondernet. I think that in some ways, it’s a marketing tool, also. “Look what I’m willing to share with you! Isn’t that INSANE? Hire me/buy my stuff!”. That leads to other issues then…like, how much is too much, how do you protect yourself, what image do you want to present to the world?
That last one trips me up a bit.
And this is why i’m writing this blog. In the end, I don’t feel right presenting a persona that is in-genuine on the web or my blog. Now, that being said, people assume a lot of things based on what I do put out there- but that’s not my problem. It’s not even A problem. It is what it is, and I’m not inclined to try and change that. Especially when some of those assumptions make me seem way cooler than I am. But, I believe part of the reason I’ve taken a step away from blogging is because since I didn’t want to edit myself into oblivion, I didn’t want to write. In a strange way…I feel like this is an apology. Apologizing for myself. Or at least being in tacit agreement that being yourself is a detriment to your work. Rather, being MYself is a detriment to MY work…when in actuality, it’s quite the opposite.
My experience in life is real. It’s mine, perhaps, but it’s always been hands on. I’ve done a lot of exploring and learning and I intend to do a lot more. I’ve invited you (all three of you, readers) to join me on the journey and to glean useful tidbits where you can or want to. I love to coach. I love to take care. I love to give and share. I love writing hilarious and informative articles about love and sex and perfume. So I’m going to do that. A gal has to have some secrets, of course, and I will always have mine-and what’s more- some things are just not for the internet, but just for us, between ourselves and our lovers and friends, or between us and the Mother Earth. Those private moments are sacred.
BUT I’m not going to shy away from the blog-medium any longer for any other reasons but…like, I’m away at Burning Man or something and I can’t upload. I want to inundate you with ideas, video, tips, tricks, information, dirty jokes, and words of the day. I want to once again relish the daily exercise of writing. I want to, for once, be able to write word “exercise” without fucking it up three times. But, for reals, lets DO this. STREAM LION!!
So, I’m consolidating this blog with the histories of several of my other blogs and moving the whole whacky ship to wordpress. I’ll be focusing mainly on my informational blogs, because I love them so, but…you know, there will be other stuff. Like this photo of me looking smarmy, taken with my hip iPhone, with a hip, retro, iPhone app:
There’s a new show every week, my lovelies (well, sometimes I have an oopsie and miss a week. This is what happens when you’re fabulous!!). But keep up to date and also post questions or ideas to me about what you’d like to talk about.
Yesterday I did an interview with Brian Dunn of Dance of the Heart (www.danceoftheheart.com) and had scintillating converstation about the metaphor of Tango and those wild, primal energies! Check in next week as we wonder: Can you Tango your way to the Divine?
This phenomenon of “Oh, my goddess!” in place of “Oh, my god!”… fascinating, if you really give it some thought. Surely, either option will do since, to me, All That Is could hardly be said to have human genitalia…or any tangible genitalia whatsoever. I hope. Also, all the options are undeniably delightful and illustrative of one’s incumbent spiritual beliefs. I offer you “goddessdamnit!” or “for goddess’ sake”, perhaps? Cute! I mean, who even cares what gender one cusses or exclaims in, amiright? I’ll tell you who.
Oh, I’m not suggesting that there is a right or a wrong way of cussing. Morality isn’t my interest in this (or much else). What is of interest to me is…what it means. Why bother to interject such obvious changes into seemingly pointless turns of phrase? Well, I believe, this particular calculated change of a common expression is a less mainstream way (among many, many other ways) with which The People are desperately trying to call Divine Feminine energy back into an overly “male” societal structure. They think to themselves, “God. Pffft! Too masculine, too overbearing…too ‘not me’. I’m going to make public my desire for a more female-centric global model by going out of my way to alter an overused cultural idiom (which already flagrantly dumbs down the divine) into the feminine version. Then I’m going to take her name in vain instead!”
That conversation probably takes place in the abstract, though… and is likely a lot less assholey than I made it sound. Yeah, I said “in vain” because that’s what it is: casual and a bit flippant.
(You might also be saying it because you’re a submissive and you’re mistress demands that you call her “goddess”. In that case, since she and possibly several of her individual body parts are being worshipped, when you say “Oh, my goddess”, you’re being…literal…and you should ignore the rest of this article. That’s an order.)
I don’t take umbrage when my friends say such things or similar because for many; it’s truly heartfelt and authentic. For just as many, though, is it an affectation. I mean, I say “Oh my god” a lot, much to my own chagrin, so this isn’t a judgment. It just makes me (and maybe you) think. You see, these days, the word “goddess” is everywhere, big and little “G”. Women and men now call other women “goddess” in place of a myriad of other words they may have used before. How many books are written on how to be one? Googolplex. We talk about communing with or becoming our “inner” goddess or the goddess. Who is that? There’s a what in me? WTF?! Who is this “goddess” and why is everyone getting compared to and in touch with her? Here a goddess, there a goddess, everywhere a goddess, goddess. Sounds like a bunch of hippie horseshit! Ok, no it doesn’t, but I know that there are a lot of men and women out there, even ones that talk about goddesses incessantly, who secretly wonder what on god(dess)’s green earth it all means. Is EVERY woman a goddess?? I mean- what the hell is the qualifier for goddess-hood? Not sure I could describe it to you, but I know it when I see it.
There are two things happening here, one of them is happening to some women, on a personal level. The other is happening to everyone, on a collective level, in the consciousness of humanity. These things have to do with each other, of course, but they aren’t necessarily the same. The former is a gender experience, which becomes a part of the latter; the latter…has nothing to do with gender at all.
*On a side note, I admit that I could be using the word “gender” incorrectly. I know that this word has taken on new life and new meaning over the years and I can honestly say I am unsure how hip to the current definitions I am. Despite that I’m surrounded by the queerest of queer and I, myself, am the most comfortable in this “category” (though I hardly fit into one)- I still never know the politically correct usages of these words. It seems sort of strange that I have to specify when, for me, anything goes. When I say “women” I mean those with an anatomical vagina and those without- but here, I like to be clearer for my readers. I use these limiting words to the best of my knowledge and with the best intentions. If anyone has issue with the way I’m wielding “gender”, please feel free to let me know.
When we talk about the Great Shift and the return of harmony between male and female energies, when we discuss moving away from an exhausted, male-oriented paradigm and into a more feminine one- we aren’t talking about gender. We’re talking about energies, male and female not man and woman. Masculine energy is linear, focused, determined and organized, point A to point B. Female energy is creative, “big-picture”, compassionate. The hemispheres of our brain govern one of these energies each, with just one little bridge connecting them, and our brain needs both hemispheres to function at its best, mechanically. Just like our brains, the earth and its inhabitants need both energies, equally, to function at their best. We all have these energies within our Spirits, as well. While our physical bodies, when separated from spirit, may resonate with one energy more than the other (creating sex, gender, and it’s wide array of interpretations) our immortal spirits have both, in perfect balance. One kind of energy is not better than another. *Gets hit in the face by extreme feminists*
Currently, the world has too much of a male jam going on, but either of these energies, without balance, can go wild and wrong. Male energy is Awesome and worthy of respect; it just needs to be balanced out lest it turns violent, aggressive, controlling, and lacking in creativity and compassion. Sound like a place you know? (I’m talking about Earth.) Since this topic could be considered in an infinite number of ways and talked about until several people were blue in the face, and since I don’t feel like getting into a deeply philosophical and somewhat fringe discussion about the Shift of Ages today, I’m just going to talk about the former (the gender experience). I am going to skip a lot of explanation and discussion, because…well, because I wanna. We’ll sidestep the history, the politics, and the rest of the 2012 stuff and go right to the How (so masculine of me). How do those women (and some men) who desire to embody the goddess… make it happen? Yes, I say “and some men”. There are shit loads of men who want to get in touch with their feminine side. Absolutely. I want to hug all those men. Ok, ok, I might talk a bit about why we are so driven to want to embody her (or Her), as well.
How do we really feel it in our being, from head to toe to yoni? How do I empower myself as a woman (and not in the sensible-footwear, puppy-stomping, man-hating kind of way)? How do I become a representation of the Divine Feminine here on Earth?
Will it help if I let my pubic hair grow wild and free?
(Part two is where I tell you some of my secrets on how I do it. Part II. Meaning, I’m not going to do it right now. I see you shiver with antici……………………..
(From Akira Kato)
The Sumerians, one of the first literate peoples, left some tablet fragments (written before 2300 B.C.) that provide a glimpse into their world view and sexual attitudes.
Some of the clay tablets, fragments and seals tell us their fascinating stories, including the story of Inanna. Of all the Sumerian deities, Inanna remained the most revered for a long period. This goddess created the realm of love and procreation, and became a forerunner of Anath of Canaan, Isis of Egypt, and Ishtar of Babylonia—with whom she is sometimes identified.
Inanna rejoiced in her sexuality. The story tells how “her vulva became wondrous when she leaned back against the apple tree”. Inanna herself spoke of making love with her consort—the shepherd Dumuzi.
He shaped my loins with his fair hands,
The shepherd Dumuzi filled my lap with cream and milk,
He stroked my pubic hair,
He watered my womb.
He laid his hands on my holy vulva.
He caressed me on the bed.”
Bridegroom, let me caress you,
My precious caress is more savory than honey,
In the bedchamber, honey filled,
Let us enjoy your goodly beauty,
Lion, let me caress you,
My precious caress is more savory than honey.
The sexual union of Inanna and Dumuzi became the prototype of the Sumerian custom of the “sacred marriage”, ritually performed at the New Year festival. This rite later became widespread in other societies—notably Babylon and Greece. In its Sumerian form, the high priestess, known as the Entu, would ceremonially mate with the high priest or king who personified the life force of the earth. The kings of Sumeria may have been sons, fathers and consorts of the high priestesses.
As the representative of the goddess, the priestess would bestow her divine power through sexual union with the king, thereby making him fit to rule. In the ceremony, the priestess took the initiative. The god-king had to bring her offerings and await her pleasure. The people considered any child born of such a union half-human and half-divine. This ceremony supposedly guaranteed the renewed growth of all human, animal and plant life.
Although primarily benevolent and merciful, Inanna appeared like a fierce, warlike goddess because of her lion-like power, with which she could confront dangerous forces and which gave her the ability to protect her followers from suffering.
Your scent should flirt with people. It should not pound them in the grill like miasmic brass knuckles.
I shall explain:
A considerable part of seduction, luxury, awakening, and generally rich living is scent. Our olfactory systems are phenomenally important and incredibly complex. Most mammals have two systems, with one used just to sniff out pheromones (mmmm, pheromones). I think that’s quite handy, myself. Human females can subconsciously smell a man’s genes- the ones specific to a healthy immune system. HIS GENES. Parents can recognize blood-related children by scent. When you inhale, your nose is capable of differentiating (and if we’re lucky our brain will then identify) hundreds and hundreds of smells, and in minuscule quantities to boot, e.g: “The 1973 Syrah from Chateau Lazare mixes decadent pepper essences with a introverted licorice bouquet”. And if that’s not enough, on the exhale, your nose contributes to what your tongue is tasting. Lets not even TALK about sex and smell (yet). Please. Big-deal, smart-guy scientists still cannot explain the complicated magic of stink and reeking. Innumerable studies have been done on the powerful association between olfaction and recollection, we know strong emotions or repetitive exposure heighten an olfactory memory. Do you want other people’s olfactory memories of you to be ambient, pleasant, and alluring or reminiscent of the enormous Amorphophallus titanum, commonly referred to as the Corpse Flower?
(it smells like a corpse).
I could go on and on about the wonders that await up your nose, but, I’m not a science writer. Thankfully. For your sake. If you’d like to read more, this article has great citations.
Toward my point:
Try to leave the house perfumed everyday, even if it’s with the simple “clean” of the shower. If you perfume daily with an oil or lotion (hate that word “lotion”, passionately, by the way) Your skin will be soft to the touch and, the most exciting, the scent of you will travel places you cannot and get closer to people sooner than you can, which can be very intoxicating for both parties.
It’s SO important, however, that you are smart. Seduction is a subtle art form, yes, art form. Don’t overpower your natural smell and the air around you with fragrance. DO NOT. I cannot stress this enough. Don’t be the inconsiderate douchebag that walks into a restaurant and snuffs out the aroma of the food with her perfume (food is it’s own sensual experience, one that banks on smell, and not one that should be destroyed by your uncouth aromatic choices), and you’re not looking to leave people gagging in the grocery aisle behind you. The perfect amount of perfume is one that can be perceived by someone close enough to shake your hand, hug you, or can be experienced only for a moment when you walk by. If you put it on and you’re not sure you can smell it, then you’ve done it perfectly. You want it known by those you’ll be close enough to truly entice, share with, or indulge; a lover, a good friend, family, someone you’re hugging etc. Think of your scent as one instrument playing an important part in the symphonic experience created by the orchestra of you. A well-placed, singing violin, a poignant flute riff, floating majestically to the foreground for a brief, harmonic moment, then vanishing again to perhaps reappear at the perfect time. We don’t want an epileptic cymbalist or a narcoleptic tuba player with tuberculosis on our team. Do we.
“Nothing is more memorable than a smell. One scent can be unexpected, momentary and fleeting, yet conjure up a childhood summer beside a lake in the mountains.”
Where to put your perfume? Directly on the body, before you dress. Believe me, it will get on your clothes all on it’s own. Plus, you want your perfume on the warmest parts of your body. You think that wrist/behind-the-ear/neck thing is a joke? It ain’t! It’s because those spots are warm to the touch. Your body has it’s own natural fragrance diffusers. Find those warm spots and put just a touch on each. Wrists, neck/ear, cleavage, small of back (the ultimate sexy zone), and…yeah. There too. Some women like to do the hair flip into a cloud of perfume that they spray into the air. While this appears clever, I don’t recommend it. Your hair is already perfumed with whatever you shampoo with and there’s no need to start getting all crazy mixing things up. Simple is best. Also, a lot of atomized perfumes rely on alcohol as a conduit and you don’t want that in your hair. If neither of these things are an issue- then, maybe put a touch of solid perfume on the crown of your head. Ancient egyptians used to put whole cones of perfumed oils up there, reaping the benefits through the heat of the day as they melted and flowed down the body.
It’s also nice to choose one or two perfumes and stick with them. An olfactory signature. People will associate you with that smell, instantly thinking of you the moment it reaches their nose (see that previous paragraph about Corpse flowers). This works wonders when you accidentally leave an article of clothing with a beau, when you leave your smell on a lover’s pillow, when you mist a letter or card with your perfume, or when someone you know runs into someone else wearing your perfume and can think of no one but you. We like that, you know, when we’re penetrating the minds of those we adore from miles away. *fist pump*.
None of that can happen if you switch fragrances too often. Select one and stick with it. It worked for Marilyn Monroe and Chanel No. 5; it will work for you, too. To this day, if I go to a city I haven’t been to for years, at least one person will express how I still smell like “me” and how they’ve missed it. That kind of thing is comforting to people (and me)- think of how pleasant it is to smell the collar of a man’s shirt when he’s not in it, even if it’s just regular old man-smell! If in doubt about what to choose as your scent, have a ponder; What smells will invoke YOU in an imagination? Those of Mountain tops? Family Holidays? Decadent, opioid lounges? Sweet desserts? Lush, romantic gardens? If you were a smell, what smell would you be?
Or pick a very subtle fragrance featuring roses or anything with a bouquet of baked goods (If you’re into men, men like fragrance that smells like food and “fresh”, “clean” smelling things. Natural scents on women rate highest. I’m not making this up. The Smell and Taste Research Treatment Center had this to say: ” The number one odor that enhanced penile blood flow was a combination of lavender and pumpkin pie”. That study came out in the 90’s and I’ve had time to test it’s validity. They do not lie). And really, the amount of people on earth that don’t enjoy the scent of real (emphasis on “real”) vanilla or cake is infinitesimal. Refrain from emanating odiferous stripper-like whiffs (and I love strippers) and ensure your perfume is top-shelf. Usually you will be safe if you give a wide berth to anything named after candy or sex positions. I’d also avoid fragrance that is readily available in the local drugstore, especially ones with hearts or cartoons on the label (always with exception, I suppose). Try the perfume on for a while and see, when it mingles with your natural chemistry, if it still smells good or morphs into rotten, poop-kitten stank. That can happen, poop-kittens.
You may want to get serious and take a vested interest in your special bouquet. Make your own. Not only do you create magic with your intention, which will add to the potency of your perfume, you’ll learn, have fun, and get in touch with plants and your body. Anyone can buy from a store, originating your own ensures that your scent is unique. Today I began the process of enfleurage, with this season’s rousing and potent lilacs, which is the oldest known method of extracting scent from delicate flowers (I used coconut oil rather than lard). There are easier methods, perhaps-It takes a long time- but I assure you the fragrance will be absolutely worth it. And…made with love!
I urge you to discover the perfumed world.
I’m writing from next to kitchen window, in my home in New Hampshire. It’s cool and grey, lush and full of springtime promise outside.
There is a lot going on behind the scenes at TWOTC (yes, I know the acronym phonetically spells “Twat-C”. While I’ll probably use the acronym…less…I am find it rather a happy accident). Essentially, the world is interested in The Way of the Courtesan. Interested in the word “Courtesan” itself- how it can heal, transform, and mystify- and also the 8 principles that are outlined on the home site. Those principles were taken from the basic elements of the Courtesan lifestyle and have become a part of my medicine.
What’s on the horizon? Hopefully not the meltdown of the Fukushima reactor.
Seriously, though, the horizon; You have questions, it seems. And I will answer! This means that I will present more blog content, introduce video, and *fingers crossed* a Radio Station. I’m very excited, to say the least. I’m thanking the universe repeatedly in hopes that these great things continue to manifest. And I’m looking forward to getting down and dirty with real talk on the interweb. I still love me some font, though, so I’ll be updating more regularly with tips, talks, articles, and more.
This month’s article is a friendly reminder that men aren’t sex robots. I know this may come as a shock, especially if you’re a man. Were I to guess how many articles are written about women’s issues around sex, for every one written about men’s, I would guess…hmmm…googolplex-ish. Even I would not be compelled to write this one if it weren’t for the fact that I, frequently, hear from women about how men are merely meat-sticks. One would think that since women have long suffered with sexual suppression that they’d be more sensitive to a persons needs, desires, and insecurities, especially around matters calling for nudity. It appears though, that shit, does indeed, roll downhill. With the amount of women wildly shrieking of how their boyfriends won’t “give them sex this week” or the plethora of broads who are right now cutting another notch in their belt, tallying last nights conquest, it seems as though ladies are determined to learn healing the hard way (see that? See how I made an erection pun right there? “Hard way”, get it?)
Listen, I’m the first one to objectify a well-formed/superbly skilled hunk of man (honestly, a man being brilliant at Geometry alone will illicit carnal thoughts). In fact, I teach other women how to objectify men, that is, “objectify” without degradation and with admiration instead. Importantly, the admiration is not contingent upon how long it takes for his penis to go from zero to sex-me. I teach this, why? Please, look at the world out there. What do you find? You find boners. Lots of boners… just, everywhere. Also, you find information about how to have the biggest, hardest boner- Because that’s what chicks like. It’s Johnsonville out there and the message is that men without an unhesitating and acute Beef Bayonet are fundamentally useless. That, my friends, is fucking depressing. Is anyone else sick of sex always being all about orgasms? Remember heavy petting? Remember making out? MAKING OUT IS EFFING AWESOME.
Since we aren’t a culture that likes talking about our intercourse in any gentle or educational way, men learn a lot from porn. Basically, a man learns that ideal sex positions involve having the faces and bodies of those involved as far away from each other as possible, with the genitals still touching. He learns that his job is to forcefully pound the vagina, until it explodes (explosion will be indicated by extra loud moaning and possibly expletives), at which time he can off-load onto one of her various body parts, while saying “yeah!” aggressively. Ok. Well, that stuff is actually pretty fun sometimes…just not all the times. Men also learn that kissing is secondary, thatforeplay always involves spitting, and most importantly they learn not to think about what they truly want. Not unless it involves truly wanting to keep their erection, truly wanting to avoid quick orgasm (so much that pondering baseball or dead puppies during intercourse is common), or truly wanting to see our boobies.
Men quickly assimilate that sex is about their cock. They begin to associate cock with “performance”, and performance with lovemaking. This often causes total detachment from his penis (therefore it always works), or can subsequently result in “performance anxiety”, anxiety about getting hard (thus, they often can’t). Here, a man worries that without wood, he’s no good. He wonders “does she think I’m ineffectual because my love-wand is bust?” Unfortunately, she might. Many women, verbally, energetically, or tacitly collude with a man’s penis fears. A man’s stress can cancel an erection and for this he’s …ridiculed? Performance? What the hell is this, a dick circus? Is he your stud horse? Even if he is, he’s still a human being with deep desires, fears, sensitivities and lots of things he’s probably never been given the support to consider, since he and everyone else is preoccupied with wang. Impotence is grounds for divorce in 20-some-odd US states. No pressure guys! Just get a boner or we’ll leave your worthless asses.
Let’s pretend for a moment that women have dingdongs. Say, one of us had an experience in which we couldn’t get it up. What do you think we women would tell each other or ourselves? We would say, affectionately, “You know what, Bobby-Sue? It’s probably because it just didn’t feel right in your heart, you should listen to your body.” or “Jenny, if he makes you feel bad about not getting a hard on, then he’s probably a total jerk and your penis knew it” or, “ Hey, it’s alright. Take your time. You shouldn’t put so much pressure on yourself.” That’s exactly the same attitude we should have towards men. Being pissy due to lack of sex (for any reason) is a massive turn off. Your partner isn’t a dancing monkey. Attitude (pouty or perturbed) isn’t going to get you laid or loved. Which reminds me: what do we call it when a man pressures a woman for sex? Selfish. Insensitive. Abuse. Oppression. Harassment. Oh, snap!
Ladies cause tension when coercing their partner to put out, yes. There’s a sense of entitlement a woman can get, like she is owed sex (when she wants it, but not when she doesn’t). She assumes that her naked body is enough to turn a guy on, even if the naked body is standing there, impatiently tapping its foot and staring disappointedly at his flaccid member. It’s as if we think that because men are so famously oriented toward seed spreading that they should have a continuous stiffy. If they don’t, we take it very personally. Men aren’t offered the same sensitivity that we demand from them. And women who aren’t in relationships? Worse. Though women will readily complain about a man’s nooky-dispatch (to someone else) we rarely offer them an alternative to their current repertoire (and certainly not with any manners or finesse). Many men do what they do in bed because it’s the gold porn standard. No one has ever told them otherwise and possibly never convinced them it’s worth caring. There are plenty of simper-filled stories among girlfriends about the guy who spastically jackhammered for 10 minutes, came awkwardly, and promptly fell asleep. But, if you ask these giggling ladies if he, Joe Blow, was ever told that a woman’s orgasm results not from getting smacked in crotch with his pelvic bone…the answer is almost always a resounding “No!” Nancy will tell Betty about Joe Blow’s sexual failings, but not Joe Blow. Nice of Nancy to damn poor Joe to an eternity of awkward, unsatisfying sexual intercourse! Betty knowing a strangers ridiculous orgasm face is probably funny for Betty, but it isn’t going to help Joe Blow reach higher levels of physical intimacy or pleasure. No worries, Nance, don’t do a guy who was inside you any favors…and don’t do the next woman to lay Joe Blow any favors either, for that matter. That’s not a very nice thing to do for your fellow women, is it, passing along an uneducated bedmate? Bet you never thought about feminism that way before!
Not all males are the same; it is a crime against nature to keep alive this idiotic myth. Men aren’t just penis providers. They aren’t sperm banks. Men aren’t on this earth to simply service, obey, and deliver us cock whenever and however we want it. (Unless, of course, you’re a dominatrix and he is your willing and devoted submissive). Males aren’t beasty troglodytes who must be tolerated by the more sophisticated female presence. I am weary of this emerging mindset. It seems like a reactionary response to the perceived hurt caused by men as an entire gender, as the whole masculine paradigm. I hate to break the news but doing unto men what we feel they’ve done to us is SUPER LAME. It doesn’t promote equality, it doesn’t promote harmony, or love, and it absolutely does not make any of us seem like goddesses or beautiful examples of feminine energy. Demanding sex, reluctantly “allowing” sex or, bartering with sex inside of a relationship- it’s all equally detrimental. If any man wants nothing more than to be at your sexual service, then, so be it! But let him want to exist for your pleasure. Nay, lead him to exist for your pleasure by existing for his (as well as your own)! Hint: he’s not going to want exist for your pleasure if you’re an asshole.
Could we, perhaps, give men a bit of compassion? Yes, even for the insensitive, womanizing, heat-seeking, penis-missile guys. Could we, instead of reinforcing the idea that men are simple-minded, inconsiderate lovers and/or turgid cocks with legs and earning potential, consider that many men may not even know what they are missing? Men have not been encouraged to think in the feminine. They have stereotypes to battle, just like women have. Could we perhaps remember (or realize) that we love and cherish the masculine as much as we value the feminine…that we must? We’re in this together. Let’s swing the world model not just more toward the feminine, but toward the Divine Feminine. Show a little love and tenderness for our brothers.