Today during a scattered phone conversation with my mother she suggested I find someone (i.e. a partner) I can "do things with", in other words collaborate. Well, gee, why hadn't I thought of that? This whole time I've been hoping for a mate, but I should've been hoping for a mate *and* a co-producer. This is like the apple of knowledge as far as I'm concerned, most tantalizing and most terrifying. It's like the dirty fantasy I can't even really admit to myself I have.
Oh, what of the potential emotional carnage!? It's best not to envision. At this point, I will be pleased as punch if I find a nice wifey and some artist types who want to work with me and leave the rest up to.....well hopefully something with a good sense of humor.
On that note, I am jealous of and impressed as fuck by The Wasteland Comedy Hour, with T.S. Elliot which was directed last winter by my friend Jason in Boston. I always get a little envious when I see groups of collaborators that obviously work tremendously well together.
Someday, my collaboratrices will come.
Showing posts with label fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fantasy. Show all posts
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Friday, January 4, 2008
W4W and Me: You Defy Description
This past year, after each of two tough, but very different break-ups, I found myself turning to Craigs List as daily habit in my life. The first time, last March-June, I scanned the local Missed Connections forum daily, enjoying the distraction and entertainment, hoping to see myself reflected through another's desire (it's been a fantasy since I was 17 or so), finding solace in the hordes of other people lonely and hurting and strange and spewing. I don't own a TV, don't really consume any media except books and the two free weeklies (I am a bit embarrassed by being so poorly informed about current events and the like, but have yet to find a regular relevant source of clear, unspun news), wasn't watching movies, and no longer drink or smoke pot, so Missed Connections became my little escapism fix.
I almost never look at Missed Connections anymore. This time, it's the W4W section, which I've mentioned before. My roommate got me started on it and now I check it, generally several times daily, as a fascinating microcosm of the local gay/queer/lesbian/bi/trans communities. I examine the writing styles, and have learned general trends about what kinds of people write what kinds of ads, who is most likely a man trolling for sex pictures (a hot though amateur pic of a young, very femme girl in lingerie looking to hook up and exchange pics....NO MEN!-generally a dude), how more than any other category W4W is used as an online community/info center beyond just personals, and marvel at how much queers love passing judgement, policing each other and giving each other shit. Irene calls DVDs of HBO shows her "stories" like a grandma at home with Days of Our Lives, and W4W has become my stories. Oh right, and as of 2007, I occasionally get dates from there, though often when I'm not really trying.
When I was actually actively dating the last ex, I rarely perused W4W, and if I did I was usually looking for ladies who fit one or another of our fantasies, in the hopes we could find someone to fill out a particular role or gang up on. But despite, or perhaps because of all the trivial petty shit, name-calling and sizism and trans- and bi-phobic attitudes, beyond all of the ways it's so much like everywhere else in all the most mundane and embarrassing ways, it perfectly feeds my brain's craving for bite-sized pieces of fluffy, arousing, informative and occasionally soulful information.
And, I realize while writing this, although I often mourn the lessening of quality connections with empathy, compassion and sensory satisfaction between people that this world of cell phones and instant messenger and MySpace and blogs is weaning us from, I guess that the W4W forum also gives me the sense of belonging to an ersatz community, without facing the scorn of the Lex or running into my ex's or feeling invisible because of my generally femmey, weirdo presentation and male-oriented history and expansive desires. Being actually invisible can give you the freedom to be exactly who you are with confidence. It can also dehumanize people, inspire new heights of deception, and without accountability, bring out the worst.
Funny, that.
So this evening during my casual scroll, I came across a thread about a well-written ad. I love following the threads especially, they are a bit like anonymous exquisite corpses. So I went back and found the "OP" which is original posting in CL speak, and discovered it to be not only well written, but really resonant with many of my own feelings. So I emailed the poster and asked if I could re-print the ad here. She gave me her blessing so here it is for your reading pleasure. She is quite a bit older than me, and felt the age gap too significant to date, which was fine by me. But I feel the ad to be very apropos to what I am looking for.
My notes would be these:
1. I may put more importance on looks and interests than the author, though I have a very wide spectrum of what I find appealing in both those arenas.
2. I consider work to be anything on which you spend time, energy and hopefully some passion. In my (very privileged and also creative) world, work and finances are not necessarily corollary, though hopefully there is some of each.
3.Although I have practiced polyamory (much more difficult than the piano, which I gave up years ago) for about eight years, I am imagining my wife to be probably single. While I envision a poly marriage, with perhaps some periods of monogamy to help through rough patches, I want to get involved with someone who has the room not only in their hearts, but also in their bits and schedules to really fall deeply in love and intimacy, sometimes quickly sometimes slowly. To me this indicates someone who has had good practice with poly life, but happens to not have any super significant (in terms of romance and time commitment) partners at the moment. Perhaps some very casual, or occasional out-of-town lovers, but no relationships that would make her feel not single.
And here it is:
You Defy Description
Your looks and interests don't preoccupy me. What matters to me are your experiences, perceptions, and states of mind.
You know idiocy. What it is for you to completely screw up. Lose a chance. Miss a deadline. Blow a fuse. Lose your mind. Slip on a peel for real. Wound a lover. Lose your star. Sign a contract you know you’ll pay in blood.
You know many kinds of love. Romantic and silly. Unyielding and loyal. Coarse and exquisite, jealous and forgiving. Stirring-the-oatmeal love. Ancient, deep, recognition-love. Unrequited and tearing.
You know loss. Lover, family, goddamn body part stopped working, whatever it was. Crying in the shower. Getting through the days. Wincing away from the photographs, years later.
You know bliss. Music finding the heart of your ears. Touch. Image, sculpture, and narrative in visual motion. A glance, a smile, the simple phrases that wing the heart and make it sing. The body pushing against gravity to a great pleasure, to a finish line, beyond pain to submission, through silence to a timeless space of luminous ground.
You know surrender. To accept, in the big ways, that you’re not who you thought you were, or wanted to be, or thought you would become.
You know work. A steady hum. Combat and loyalties, crisis and crap, and even so, getting things done.
You know nature. Not just the elemental joy in rivers and mountains, kinship with that doe in the woods. Now, Being unconceals itself everywhere, you feel rapture in the concrete at Bush and Van Ness, a lost button, the rusty car hood.
You know connection. So you find it odd and hard to feel so much a-part-of-things -- not important, not unimportant, just a infinitesimal part of a whole -- in a culture peopled with many (not all) peripatetic, disconnected individuals, subjects who feel like objects, many of them scared and unhappy with who they are and what they’ve (not) got. You know you can’t hug total strangers, but sometimes you want to.
You have a job, a life, a family you talk to, friends. You have problems, you’re not perfect. You’re single. You’re thinking about “dating” and maybe in some moods you’re reluctant, in other moods optimistic. You’re more cautious than you used to be. You think if you meet the right person, something will click, there will be an opening of a sort. This frightens you a little but you’re willing to be open to it.
Me too.
If this post describes you, I have lots to learn from you. And maybe I have something to offer you. Though who knows? We'll never know unless we meet.
-A.J Waterborne
I almost never look at Missed Connections anymore. This time, it's the W4W section, which I've mentioned before. My roommate got me started on it and now I check it, generally several times daily, as a fascinating microcosm of the local gay/queer/lesbian/bi/trans communities. I examine the writing styles, and have learned general trends about what kinds of people write what kinds of ads, who is most likely a man trolling for sex pictures (a hot though amateur pic of a young, very femme girl in lingerie looking to hook up and exchange pics....NO MEN!-generally a dude), how more than any other category W4W is used as an online community/info center beyond just personals, and marvel at how much queers love passing judgement, policing each other and giving each other shit. Irene calls DVDs of HBO shows her "stories" like a grandma at home with Days of Our Lives, and W4W has become my stories. Oh right, and as of 2007, I occasionally get dates from there, though often when I'm not really trying.
When I was actually actively dating the last ex, I rarely perused W4W, and if I did I was usually looking for ladies who fit one or another of our fantasies, in the hopes we could find someone to fill out a particular role or gang up on. But despite, or perhaps because of all the trivial petty shit, name-calling and sizism and trans- and bi-phobic attitudes, beyond all of the ways it's so much like everywhere else in all the most mundane and embarrassing ways, it perfectly feeds my brain's craving for bite-sized pieces of fluffy, arousing, informative and occasionally soulful information.
And, I realize while writing this, although I often mourn the lessening of quality connections with empathy, compassion and sensory satisfaction between people that this world of cell phones and instant messenger and MySpace and blogs is weaning us from, I guess that the W4W forum also gives me the sense of belonging to an ersatz community, without facing the scorn of the Lex or running into my ex's or feeling invisible because of my generally femmey, weirdo presentation and male-oriented history and expansive desires. Being actually invisible can give you the freedom to be exactly who you are with confidence. It can also dehumanize people, inspire new heights of deception, and without accountability, bring out the worst.
Funny, that.
So this evening during my casual scroll, I came across a thread about a well-written ad. I love following the threads especially, they are a bit like anonymous exquisite corpses. So I went back and found the "OP" which is original posting in CL speak, and discovered it to be not only well written, but really resonant with many of my own feelings. So I emailed the poster and asked if I could re-print the ad here. She gave me her blessing so here it is for your reading pleasure. She is quite a bit older than me, and felt the age gap too significant to date, which was fine by me. But I feel the ad to be very apropos to what I am looking for.
My notes would be these:
1. I may put more importance on looks and interests than the author, though I have a very wide spectrum of what I find appealing in both those arenas.
2. I consider work to be anything on which you spend time, energy and hopefully some passion. In my (very privileged and also creative) world, work and finances are not necessarily corollary, though hopefully there is some of each.
3.Although I have practiced polyamory (much more difficult than the piano, which I gave up years ago) for about eight years, I am imagining my wife to be probably single. While I envision a poly marriage, with perhaps some periods of monogamy to help through rough patches, I want to get involved with someone who has the room not only in their hearts, but also in their bits and schedules to really fall deeply in love and intimacy, sometimes quickly sometimes slowly. To me this indicates someone who has had good practice with poly life, but happens to not have any super significant (in terms of romance and time commitment) partners at the moment. Perhaps some very casual, or occasional out-of-town lovers, but no relationships that would make her feel not single.
And here it is:
You Defy Description
Your looks and interests don't preoccupy me. What matters to me are your experiences, perceptions, and states of mind.
You know idiocy. What it is for you to completely screw up. Lose a chance. Miss a deadline. Blow a fuse. Lose your mind. Slip on a peel for real. Wound a lover. Lose your star. Sign a contract you know you’ll pay in blood.
You know many kinds of love. Romantic and silly. Unyielding and loyal. Coarse and exquisite, jealous and forgiving. Stirring-the-oatmeal love. Ancient, deep, recognition-love. Unrequited and tearing.
You know loss. Lover, family, goddamn body part stopped working, whatever it was. Crying in the shower. Getting through the days. Wincing away from the photographs, years later.
You know bliss. Music finding the heart of your ears. Touch. Image, sculpture, and narrative in visual motion. A glance, a smile, the simple phrases that wing the heart and make it sing. The body pushing against gravity to a great pleasure, to a finish line, beyond pain to submission, through silence to a timeless space of luminous ground.
You know surrender. To accept, in the big ways, that you’re not who you thought you were, or wanted to be, or thought you would become.
You know work. A steady hum. Combat and loyalties, crisis and crap, and even so, getting things done.
You know nature. Not just the elemental joy in rivers and mountains, kinship with that doe in the woods. Now, Being unconceals itself everywhere, you feel rapture in the concrete at Bush and Van Ness, a lost button, the rusty car hood.
You know connection. So you find it odd and hard to feel so much a-part-of-things -- not important, not unimportant, just a infinitesimal part of a whole -- in a culture peopled with many (not all) peripatetic, disconnected individuals, subjects who feel like objects, many of them scared and unhappy with who they are and what they’ve (not) got. You know you can’t hug total strangers, but sometimes you want to.
You have a job, a life, a family you talk to, friends. You have problems, you’re not perfect. You’re single. You’re thinking about “dating” and maybe in some moods you’re reluctant, in other moods optimistic. You’re more cautious than you used to be. You think if you meet the right person, something will click, there will be an opening of a sort. This frightens you a little but you’re willing to be open to it.
Me too.
If this post describes you, I have lots to learn from you. And maybe I have something to offer you. Though who knows? We'll never know unless we meet.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Tiny Update. Oh wait, I can't do tiny.
The holidays are kicking my ass. I keep working on posts here but not finishing them, though I'm sure after all the madness (presuming the the madness does end at some point), I will get back to them. Here's a teaser: definitely up-coming is a post all about my hygiene preferences! I know, I know, I'm just killing you with anticipation....
My second pseudo date was very sweet and unfortunately very pseudo. Tonight is the Lusty Lady Holiday party where I get to be a judge of the candy cane sucking contest. I'm feeling pretty low and hoping a tidal wave of scantily clad Lusties washes me onto some bed somewhere and does bad things with me. Not like littering or genocide though, I'm not up for either of those tonight unless someone gives me roofies in a big cup of coffee.
And that's mostly because my other big fantasy, that my bed will magically sprout a beautiful woman who *already* loves me, *already* knows me, just wants to stay in bed and cuddle and read each other stories and have kinky sex and get out of bed and pee on each other and make hot chocolate and then get back in bed with hot chocolate and watch movies and share our beliefs and snore in each other's armpits and make really cool bruises on each others backs and thighs and butts and necks and breasts without having to ask again where she grew up because I know where she grew up, I've heard all about it and how she hates it and loves it and maybe I've been there or we're planning a trip together.... well, I know that its too far-fetched for even me to believe. Its not the way it works, you have to go on dates and chit-chat and try new restaurants or sit in the park or whatever until you suddenly find yourself snuggled up in a hotel bed with your good friend and this new person, chastely nude, but wishing you could put their (the new person, not your good friend) genitals in your mouth, you know, just to try it.... and then two months later in another hotel bed, high on sugar and lack of sleep and amazing sex, you realize for sure that you love them. I mean, the hotel beds and sugar aren't required, I've just found that often while dating the person that I turn out to love kinda sneaks in from the side.
Yes. I like to pee on people. If that totally grosses you out, you are probably not my wife.
At this point I'm not sure whether a marriage where I never peed on my spouse but got to do it a lot with others would work, it may, but it most certainly *will not* work if you think that the mere idea of me peeing on someone is gross. There. I'm out. Possibly a big mistake, but oh well, its true.
I also really like reading out loud to people in bed (or out). I also enjoy being read to, but if I could only do one, I'd probably be the reader.
And, yes, it's true, I honestly *love* hot chocolate. I refused to be shamed for my adoration of the "steamy brown", as it's known. I hope by my confession I can pave the way for other warmed-dairy aficionados to feel comfortable about themselves, and their predilections, however un-vegan, just the way they are.
I don't yet know what to wear tonight. I used to wear miniskirts all the time and don't anymore and kind of want to wear a mini skirt for that reason, but I'm not sure I still own any festive enough. I know, big problems, what a fucking dilemma. "Fairy godmother, bring me a warm naked wife in bed, with her arm sticking out holding a hanger with the perfect outfit on it! "Of course, I would probably never make it to the party if that happened, but from the cold living room with a lap full of Mac, it sounds just peachy.
I've been having a lot of weird sex dreams all this week. Last night there were two, one involved me helping with a workers' revolt at this country-club type place where the boss was kind of a mix between Tony Soprano and the dad from the family guy. I riled everyone up and then people were playing golf and I was going to an art exhibit but my ex showed up, nude, and so I started groping her. We were just standing there, in the grass, side by side, surveying the grounds. At first she said "no need for that" or something basically telling me I should probably stop touching her genitals, but I kept doing it anyway and then she started getting excited and then...I don't know. The scene changed or something, I think maybe I was suddenly down by the water with a bunch of golf clubs in my hand.
The second one, I don't really remember the context for, possibly I was in a castle? Anyway, this cute dog, kind of grey hound like, came up and started nuzzling and licking me and I'm not a huge dog fan but I liked this dog and was petting it and then it started turning into Lynee Breedlove all dressed in leather, and I understood that this dog was really just Lynee's puppy play persona. There was a bunch of licking and what not, but I've never really been attracted to Lynee so I have no idea where that came from. Thank *YOU* twisted mind!
Alright, alright. Shower and dressing myself. One of these days I will let all the kids in on what a sham adulthood is. But tonight I'm schmoozing with the peep-show ladies, so the kids might just have to wait for their insight.
My second pseudo date was very sweet and unfortunately very pseudo. Tonight is the Lusty Lady Holiday party where I get to be a judge of the candy cane sucking contest. I'm feeling pretty low and hoping a tidal wave of scantily clad Lusties washes me onto some bed somewhere and does bad things with me. Not like littering or genocide though, I'm not up for either of those tonight unless someone gives me roofies in a big cup of coffee.
And that's mostly because my other big fantasy, that my bed will magically sprout a beautiful woman who *already* loves me, *already* knows me, just wants to stay in bed and cuddle and read each other stories and have kinky sex and get out of bed and pee on each other and make hot chocolate and then get back in bed with hot chocolate and watch movies and share our beliefs and snore in each other's armpits and make really cool bruises on each others backs and thighs and butts and necks and breasts without having to ask again where she grew up because I know where she grew up, I've heard all about it and how she hates it and loves it and maybe I've been there or we're planning a trip together.... well, I know that its too far-fetched for even me to believe. Its not the way it works, you have to go on dates and chit-chat and try new restaurants or sit in the park or whatever until you suddenly find yourself snuggled up in a hotel bed with your good friend and this new person, chastely nude, but wishing you could put their (the new person, not your good friend) genitals in your mouth, you know, just to try it.... and then two months later in another hotel bed, high on sugar and lack of sleep and amazing sex, you realize for sure that you love them. I mean, the hotel beds and sugar aren't required, I've just found that often while dating the person that I turn out to love kinda sneaks in from the side.
Yes. I like to pee on people. If that totally grosses you out, you are probably not my wife.
At this point I'm not sure whether a marriage where I never peed on my spouse but got to do it a lot with others would work, it may, but it most certainly *will not* work if you think that the mere idea of me peeing on someone is gross. There. I'm out. Possibly a big mistake, but oh well, its true.
I also really like reading out loud to people in bed (or out). I also enjoy being read to, but if I could only do one, I'd probably be the reader.
And, yes, it's true, I honestly *love* hot chocolate. I refused to be shamed for my adoration of the "steamy brown", as it's known. I hope by my confession I can pave the way for other warmed-dairy aficionados to feel comfortable about themselves, and their predilections, however un-vegan, just the way they are.
I don't yet know what to wear tonight. I used to wear miniskirts all the time and don't anymore and kind of want to wear a mini skirt for that reason, but I'm not sure I still own any festive enough. I know, big problems, what a fucking dilemma. "Fairy godmother, bring me a warm naked wife in bed, with her arm sticking out holding a hanger with the perfect outfit on it! "Of course, I would probably never make it to the party if that happened, but from the cold living room with a lap full of Mac, it sounds just peachy.
I've been having a lot of weird sex dreams all this week. Last night there were two, one involved me helping with a workers' revolt at this country-club type place where the boss was kind of a mix between Tony Soprano and the dad from the family guy. I riled everyone up and then people were playing golf and I was going to an art exhibit but my ex showed up, nude, and so I started groping her. We were just standing there, in the grass, side by side, surveying the grounds. At first she said "no need for that" or something basically telling me I should probably stop touching her genitals, but I kept doing it anyway and then she started getting excited and then...I don't know. The scene changed or something, I think maybe I was suddenly down by the water with a bunch of golf clubs in my hand.
The second one, I don't really remember the context for, possibly I was in a castle? Anyway, this cute dog, kind of grey hound like, came up and started nuzzling and licking me and I'm not a huge dog fan but I liked this dog and was petting it and then it started turning into Lynee Breedlove all dressed in leather, and I understood that this dog was really just Lynee's puppy play persona. There was a bunch of licking and what not, but I've never really been attracted to Lynee so I have no idea where that came from. Thank *YOU* twisted mind!
Alright, alright. Shower and dressing myself. One of these days I will let all the kids in on what a sham adulthood is. But tonight I'm schmoozing with the peep-show ladies, so the kids might just have to wait for their insight.
Friday, November 30, 2007
'Tis True, 'Tis True
It's kind of embarrassing. After spending about a decade pretty convinced that "marriage" or "spousedom" or "the big patriarchal celebration of misogynist ownership" was only a peripheral, take-it-or-leave-it, not-that-important-to-me grade interest, a shrug-worthy possibility at best, I realized about two months ago that I really... truly... Goddess-help-me... want a wife.
I figured out three primary reasons it took me until my latest of 20's to reach this conclusion.
And here they are:
1. Marriage had generally seemed to be about me and a boy.
This idea is outdated now, but has always kind of given me the heebie-jeebies. Make no mistake, I have had deep love, good love, even, with male-bodied partners in the past, but there is something about the het set-up of "man and wife" that turns pretty quickly to "neglect, abuse, deceit, divorce and potential uxoricide (thank *you*, wikipedia.com)" in my mind. I know that all of these phenomena are not exclusive to the straight world, but this is one of my visceral reactions (along with a nostalgic "aww...." for all of my beloved, former-potential husbands-to-be) to the idea of marrying a guy, and especially, a bio-guy. I know that happy, loving, lasting, straight (or so) married couples still exist and that there are wonderful husbands inhabiting the world. But I've long felt like those odds were definitely against me.
2. No one would ever want to marry me.
Now what kind of reason is that!? I'm just over my own self-loathing, OVER IT. It's true though, like the odd vegan masking an eating disorder (please excuse the metaphor, all of you healthy, lovely vegans!) this gripping belief in my own unlovableness, or uncommittable-to-ness, was often the gnarled face beneath the mask of reason #3. Well, fuck that shit. All sorts of people are attractive and irresistible to others for a host of obvious, mundane and unlikely reasons. I'm a person, and a generally pretty good one at that; why wouldn't someone, someone great, in fact, want to marry me?
3. Politics.
As a queer, and a feminist and a someone self-associated with a bunch of other identity-politicky labels, I'm aware of much of the problematic history and symbolism behind the institution of marriage, its ties to capitalism and its misogynistic roots.
As a sex worker and someone with an embryonic but earnest interest in radical politics, I feel even less inclined to get the state involved in my romantic life. All of these arguments seem to kind of fall apart for me when I think about the type of marriage I would want to be a part of.
* Would it be legal? - Who knows. Since I'm really interested in commitment with a lady, our options for legal marriage would be few, anyway, unless my bride-to-be is a transwoman and we fell under one of those strange birth certificate gender loop-holes. I love to travel, and don't know enough about the legal benefits and repercussions, if any, for a foreign state-sanctioned union. It's the kind of decision I would want to collaborate on.
* Would it be monogamous? -I doubt it. While I have certainly had my fair share of trouble navigating the vast open waters of polyamory, I also feel that with my ideals, values, and self-knowledge about loving and sexuality, non-monogamy still makes the most sense for me. I also feel like I've reached the point in my emotional maturity where I can handle non-monogamy in an intentional way, with respect and integrity informed by a deeper knowledge of my own needs and limits.
*Would I feel free to take the conventions that ring really deeply true with me, and make up or fuck the rest? -Hellz yeah!
My primary interest is in commitment, collaboration, a partner in the beautiful crime of building a life full of wild wise dreams. Plus, I'm a ritualist, love costumes and parties, so a wedding of sorts seems fitting. As a person who deeply believes in reclaiming: words; like "queer" and "dyke" and "whore", concepts; like the sexuality that feels intense, dirty and hot, not the one that Dworkin says is right, I think that taking another traditional tool of oppression and subverting it for my own kinky, queer, whole-hearted, fierce-loving means is right up my alley.
In the end, it all comes down to feeling free; allowing myself to recognize what I really want and letting myself want it, not because of cultural expectations or a need to please my family or hegemonic pressure, but because it fits with my personality, my values, and my dreams for my life. If I let my early concepts of feminism or my latter fears of radical queer judgment curb my true desires, then what the fuck's the point in believing in freedom of expression or social equality? A simplistic, and unoriginal argument, I know, but dammit, I just want a wife. I just do. And as far as I'm concerned, the sooner I am un-conflicted with my own personal desires, the faster and better able I'll be to relax my own biases and address bigger problems.
I am reminded of Annie Sprinkle and Elizabeth Steven's recent show, "Exposed!" in which I got to play a small role. Before they explained their 7 year project of a wedding every year for seven years corresponding to each chakra point (http://www.loveartlab.org/) they opened the floor to the audience and asked for everyone's input on reasons not to get married, particularly as queer women. After hearing the audience's grievances regarding marriage, their anger at the commercialization of love and the LGBT's community perceived sell-out in the hopes of hetero-esque privilege and normalcy, Annie and Beth end the segment by saying, "yes, well we thought of all of that, and totally agree with it, too, but in the end....we decided....we just really want to get married!"
So here I go. Giving myself permission. Not just permission, but online exposition. It's a common, if not always conscious, tactic of mine, to burst open areas of shame and embarrassment by immediate and severe exhibitionism. There will be more, later, about what I want, my little fantasies, perhaps my progress, and not all of it will be tedious blah blah blah, some will most likely be absurd or toothsome or sexy blah blah blah.
But for now, let it be know, int0r-wide-webland: SADIE LUNE WANTS A WIFE!
I figured out three primary reasons it took me until my latest of 20's to reach this conclusion.
And here they are:
1. Marriage had generally seemed to be about me and a boy.
This idea is outdated now, but has always kind of given me the heebie-jeebies. Make no mistake, I have had deep love, good love, even, with male-bodied partners in the past, but there is something about the het set-up of "man and wife" that turns pretty quickly to "neglect, abuse, deceit, divorce and potential uxoricide (thank *you*, wikipedia.com)" in my mind. I know that all of these phenomena are not exclusive to the straight world, but this is one of my visceral reactions (along with a nostalgic "aww...." for all of my beloved, former-potential husbands-to-be) to the idea of marrying a guy, and especially, a bio-guy. I know that happy, loving, lasting, straight (or so) married couples still exist and that there are wonderful husbands inhabiting the world. But I've long felt like those odds were definitely against me.
2. No one would ever want to marry me.
Now what kind of reason is that!? I'm just over my own self-loathing, OVER IT. It's true though, like the odd vegan masking an eating disorder (please excuse the metaphor, all of you healthy, lovely vegans!) this gripping belief in my own unlovableness, or uncommittable-to-ness, was often the gnarled face beneath the mask of reason #3. Well, fuck that shit. All sorts of people are attractive and irresistible to others for a host of obvious, mundane and unlikely reasons. I'm a person, and a generally pretty good one at that; why wouldn't someone, someone great, in fact, want to marry me?
3. Politics.
As a queer, and a feminist and a someone self-associated with a bunch of other identity-politicky labels, I'm aware of much of the problematic history and symbolism behind the institution of marriage, its ties to capitalism and its misogynistic roots.
As a sex worker and someone with an embryonic but earnest interest in radical politics, I feel even less inclined to get the state involved in my romantic life. All of these arguments seem to kind of fall apart for me when I think about the type of marriage I would want to be a part of.
* Would it be legal? - Who knows. Since I'm really interested in commitment with a lady, our options for legal marriage would be few, anyway, unless my bride-to-be is a transwoman and we fell under one of those strange birth certificate gender loop-holes. I love to travel, and don't know enough about the legal benefits and repercussions, if any, for a foreign state-sanctioned union. It's the kind of decision I would want to collaborate on.
* Would it be monogamous? -I doubt it. While I have certainly had my fair share of trouble navigating the vast open waters of polyamory, I also feel that with my ideals, values, and self-knowledge about loving and sexuality, non-monogamy still makes the most sense for me. I also feel like I've reached the point in my emotional maturity where I can handle non-monogamy in an intentional way, with respect and integrity informed by a deeper knowledge of my own needs and limits.
*Would I feel free to take the conventions that ring really deeply true with me, and make up or fuck the rest? -Hellz yeah!
My primary interest is in commitment, collaboration, a partner in the beautiful crime of building a life full of wild wise dreams. Plus, I'm a ritualist, love costumes and parties, so a wedding of sorts seems fitting. As a person who deeply believes in reclaiming: words; like "queer" and "dyke" and "whore", concepts; like the sexuality that feels intense, dirty and hot, not the one that Dworkin says is right, I think that taking another traditional tool of oppression and subverting it for my own kinky, queer, whole-hearted, fierce-loving means is right up my alley.
In the end, it all comes down to feeling free; allowing myself to recognize what I really want and letting myself want it, not because of cultural expectations or a need to please my family or hegemonic pressure, but because it fits with my personality, my values, and my dreams for my life. If I let my early concepts of feminism or my latter fears of radical queer judgment curb my true desires, then what the fuck's the point in believing in freedom of expression or social equality? A simplistic, and unoriginal argument, I know, but dammit, I just want a wife. I just do. And as far as I'm concerned, the sooner I am un-conflicted with my own personal desires, the faster and better able I'll be to relax my own biases and address bigger problems.
I am reminded of Annie Sprinkle and Elizabeth Steven's recent show, "Exposed!" in which I got to play a small role. Before they explained their 7 year project of a wedding every year for seven years corresponding to each chakra point (http://www.loveartlab.org/) they opened the floor to the audience and asked for everyone's input on reasons not to get married, particularly as queer women. After hearing the audience's grievances regarding marriage, their anger at the commercialization of love and the LGBT's community perceived sell-out in the hopes of hetero-esque privilege and normalcy, Annie and Beth end the segment by saying, "yes, well we thought of all of that, and totally agree with it, too, but in the end....we decided....we just really want to get married!"
So here I go. Giving myself permission. Not just permission, but online exposition. It's a common, if not always conscious, tactic of mine, to burst open areas of shame and embarrassment by immediate and severe exhibitionism. There will be more, later, about what I want, my little fantasies, perhaps my progress, and not all of it will be tedious blah blah blah, some will most likely be absurd or toothsome or sexy blah blah blah.
But for now, let it be know, int0r-wide-webland: SADIE LUNE WANTS A WIFE!
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