I had an affecting conversation tonight. It’s not quite my story to tell but the thoughts it conjured have their own relevance.
A few weeks ago in New York – actually in a few cities around the world – there was a “Slutwalk”. The walk promoted (among other things) the idea that just because a woman celebrates her body, that does not mean she should be victimized or degraded. The walk took place downtown and ended with a rally in Union Square. Unfortunately, I heard of it that afternoon; too late to participate.
I was once told that I could be considered a walking set of contraditions. I replied that, perhaps, one should question the standards – and acceptance of such standards – that created the space for such contradictions. But, I understood the point and, though I felt the comment revealed the (for lack of a better term) shallowness of our relationship, I could see the basis upon which the comment was made. I mean, “gracious” is about the strongest “language” I’ll generally use and I seldom go anywhere without my pearls.
On the other hand, challenging what it means to “be me” is something I vociferously live. And something I believe everyone should embrace. Some of you who read this know me and a few of my stories. Even those who don’t really know me or all of my stories but have been reading this blog, should know that I’m all for collecting experiences and living life.
Sexuality is an aspect of who we are. For most of us, it’s never going to change. If we can’t embrace it, if we can’t love our bodies and what we let our bodies say about aspects of our self, then what’s the point? And yeah, yeah on that whole reproductive thing. But, if we all can’t have a little fun with the bodies we found ourselves in, then that’s just silly.
Now, the conversation tonight touched on a whole different set of topics. But, the anchor stems from our culture’s proclivity to sweep certain aspects of sexuality under the rug and embrace others when no one is looking. Still others are shamed and cast aside while the rest fuel an underbelly that more refined folks don’t accept until they’re a few drinks in…or about to get get married.
I don’t know what else to say without writing an essay. So…there you have it. Maybe more some other time.
Soundtrack: the heater
Lessons from Icarus 
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