Masculinity and the Notawoman

A little whimsical water-colour done sometime back.
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I’ve been told I suffer from a sort of masculinity ..mm.. problem (?) The boy doesn’t quite describe it as a ‘problem’ per se, but more of a quirk. And I’ve never really give it much thought until recently, when Mr. Big and I had this conversation over Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra.

That ended up in me raving, in bed, about how the play was really about sexual insecurity. Personally, I thought Shakespeare was in effect challenging, (or mocking) the men of his era and their perception of women as creatures that are supposed to be all the time filled with maternal and domestic concerns. (He didn’t say anything to the contrary because 1) He couldn’t remember much of the play 2) He knew I’d just carry on arguing until no one would have any libido left to do things of more importance.)

I can’t imagine being called a feminist, but I do like feeling like I’m the alpha whatever in any relationship. But then again, who doesn’t. Maybe, I take it a step too far sometimes though. I've this idiosyncrasy that causes me to be absolutely fascinated with a guy shopping for groceries and doing his own laundry. Partly because I’m female and would naturally pay attention to little domestic details, but also because it’s just fascinating.

I grew up with all these funny perceptions of how women should be subjugated to men –and I can say my mom’s no help, with her funny ideas that go along the lines of “Oh my god, they’ve had sex. Good on her that she’s made him marry her now.” And then one day I realize that that was all bullshit, and felt the need to remedy the years lost living in that disillusion.

I’ve always wondered why society (not so much now, as in the past) constantly subjugated women to that sort of sexual submission that constrained them from what men did all the time. I.e, fucking around. If you think about it, it makes no sense. If more women were less restrained by stupid, unstated societal standards, then a lot more would be fucking around, which is good for them, as well as the men. (I leave the definition of ‘fucking around’ to your own moral digression. Pertaining to myself, it's definition would be sex that is good for your body and good for your soul. Which might also be akin to making love *shrugs* You decide.)

The whole idea that ‘sluts’ will never inspire genuine love leading to matrimonial edicts can obviously be held only by misanthropes clearly against a more libertine society. The view that a girl with an illustrious sexual history will never wed, (aside from being bullshit, given that illustrious is not akin to matching up to Annabelle Chong) is also an obvious show of misogyny and inherent sexual insecurity.

Only notawomen (men who absolutely feel the need to proclaim that they are men by constantly doing things to prove that they aren’t women. Like being obsessed with destruction and constantly feeling the need to go to war) can be capable of such falsity, and I don’t blame them. After all, the institution of marriage is the last instance to the validation that they are the superior sex in a world where women can just as easily treat men as trophies (I do not believe in treating people as prizes, by the way, this is just to make a point.); and even this is being denied to them as the purpose of marriage switches from the protection and support of females, from a time when they were denied the rights to a good career (no prizes why I think they were denied that, and by whom) to becoming a tribute to an equal love shared between two people of comparable independence.

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All right. That’s enough ranting for an afternoon.
And in the meanwhile, cheers to all the guys who sometimes, perfectly innocently I’m sure and by mistake, slip on their woman’s underpants .

xoxox