WORDS Sophie Fennessy
Firstly, I happen to agree with this statement. Secondly, I am grateful for this particular benefit of being a woman. We get periods, the pain of child birth, an emphasis on the quality of our appearances, considering all that, at least we’ve got the old sex card.
But… hang on… is having the old sex card in our hand actually a benefit?
I’m currently crushing on someone. I get giggly, my face tingles (and if I’m honest, so do my genitals) – when I do so much as think about that sweet piece of ass.
Before I go any further into the rambling maze of juvenile ideas that pulse about my inner mind, let me pop on my disclaimer hat. I’m going to make some massive generalisations. Generalisations that are on par with statements such as ‘Men like sport, women don’t’, ‘Men know all about cars’, ‘Women love shopping, men can’t stand it’, ‘Men like solving things, women just like to talk about them’ and so on. I do not possess the intellect or sensitivity to avoid such generalisations, and for this I apologise. So get your gender binary raincoats on kids cause it’s gonna rain!
Being a woman, I am supposedly a gatekeeper. Oh the power! I like having the power. But then again, I also don’t. There is a notion that men will screw just about anything that moves and, in contrast to this, that women are the rational romantics carefully handpicking their sexual partners based on compatibility and the likelihood of a blooming relationship following a drunken night of the old lovely lovely.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I am perfectly aware that this notion is outdated, sexist and well, quite often wrong. I’ve seen men more clingy than a baby koala. But, nonetheless, I have absorbed it when forming my understanding of the world and I just can’t shake it.
The fact that half of my male friends have made a move on me doesn’t help me banish this assumption from my mind.
The problem is this: if men who like women won’t pass up the opportunity to have sex with any lady who presents herself then how do you know if they actually like you?
Yes, yes, I know. Stop being a whiny little bitch. But I can’t. Not only is whinging my favourite pastime but I also love being able to accurately predict my own future.
Now for a few questions:
- If you are permitted into my vagina does that send you a message that I like you?
- If the ol’ sensual business gets conducted is it more satisfying being the one who made it through the gate than the one who merely let someone in?
- Are vaginas literally just tiny little love gates?
Holding the sex card can be a lot of pressure. Am I making the right decision? What if the sight of my naked body is actually repulsive to him and he wants to back right on out of that gate? What if I’m misreading his sex signals? What if this destroys our friendship? Blah blah blah.
But seriously, next time you think ‘God damn it! Why can’t I have sex with whomever I damn well please?’ Spare a thought for those of us who get to have sex, well, whenever we damn well please.