Seduction in a Feminist, Patriarchal and Aware Society

I sometimes wonder if I really am a feminist, or if I'd better be labeled a humanist. We live in a society that is still patriarchal in many ways, but there are places where the feminist movement has over-reached in ways that are unfair. Specifically, I believe we need to have more honest discussions about sex, seduction, date rape and alimony. I'll deal with the other two later, but let's look at seduction.

I would not want to be a young man today, or frankly, a young woman. Men are not being allowed proper outlet for seductive energy. I do believe the "Antioch" rules were overblown by a conservative backlash. (Antioch has a code that explicit permission must be ascertained before any increase in physical intimacy in pursued by a person. However, Antioch has been quite reasonable in implementation--it is important to note that if both parties are implementing an increase intimacy, then no explicit permission need be given.) That said, seduction is being criminalized at the same time a preschooler is charged with inappropriately touching a staff member. The simple fact is, some men are lacking in social skills and don't know how to read body language, and many women send mixed signals (hardly surprising in a society that tells women they are only as valuable as their physical looks and the only way to prove that is for men to want to sleep with them, and if they aren't having sex, they must be really ugly, but if they are it is because they are total sluts with no morals).

But in trying to deal with the men who are not developmentally mature enough (or will always be clueless) we are not allowing the dance of seduction to occur. Every single one of my vanilla girlfriends wants a man that will grab her hair and take her. (Oh, and for the record gentlemen, the correct way to grab a woman's hair is NOT like a ponytail--run your hand up her scalp then curl each finger individually so that you have a little hair in each finger, then pull your fingers into a fist, but not too tight--don't break our hair! It is many of ours best feature!!) Only when we are fine with it. Only after we have decided we want it. But we all have that same, primal, desire. Men asking permission to kiss us? No! NO! NO!!! Not sexy. Get our permission from our body language. Accidentally brush up against our hands. Notice if we lean in towards you or away. If our hand is on the arm rest in a movie, chances are we are fine holding hands. If our arms are crossed over our chest and we've crossed our legs away from you--we aren't interested.

But don't reduce the dance of seduction to a contract negotiation:
"Pardon me--could I lean in two inches closer to you?"
"Why yes, but only if you don't mind if I hold eye contact a second longer than is normal."
"Well, that would be fine as long as I can accidentally touch your hand when I'm walking by."
"That's doable, as long as I can laugh a little longer at your joke."
"OK--but then I'm going to hold your eye contact for three seconds, smile, and nod like I know what you are thinking."
"Alright, but only if I can realize you know what I'm thinking, blush, look down, get over it, and look back in your eyes with a little more presence."

It's beautiful and elegant and delicious and makes a gal's toes curl. And fewer and fewer men trust their instincts to do it. In part because of all the mixed signals going on right now. But in part because all the fear about sexual harassment is telling men they can't trust their instincts. That they are predators and that is bad and they need to be nice, thoughtful, men who never take the lead. Maybe we need to go back to teaching everyone ballroom dancing--at least then there was a parameter for negotiating the dance of seduction.

Rejection and Confusion

Well, The Man That Smote Me, dumped me. Not that it can, intellectually really be a dump. Two dates, some intense phone calls. Nothing more.

And yet, it shattered part of me.

On some level, it hurt me more badly than breaking up with my live in lover. The second was more of a pain, but I knew he never saw the real me. It was part of the reason we broke up.

This is the only man I ever let see me. Every other man I've ever been with only saw the girl I try to pretend to be. The socially acceptable, not too intense, girl who plays games and giggles. This man saw the woman I really am. I sang for him. I was more in touch with joy and love than I've ever been with anyone. He looked into my eyes for about 10 minutes at dinner the second day, and I didn't look away once. Afterwards he said "well, that was better than half the sex I've had in my life." He stared into my soul, saw me at my very best, as I've never been for anyone else, and he said 'ehhy~~I can do without--thanks.'

I realized several things:
I have a much more beautiful energy than I've ever let anyone see. There is a power there I need to get in touch with.

But that famous Marianne Williamson quote that everyone thinks is by Nelson Mandela (who is not dead, btw, Saddam didn't kill him), well that is wrong. It isn't that we are scared of our lightness. It is that we know how fragile it is. To have our purest light rejected is far scarier than having our social mask rejected. Having someone brush off who we pretend to be--we can handle that. Having someone reject who we yearn to be, our soul, rather than just our social mask, that hurts to the core.

I want to find a way to get in touch with the energy he inspired, and I'm terrified. I don't know how I could be that vulnerable and risk that level of rejection. And yet, I must, because it is the only way I can possibly meet a soul mate.

Playing Games?

After one date, I believe I have met what can only be termed as my soul mate. Intellectually, I know how cheesy that sounds, but that is the only way I can describe it. Our energies vibrate off each other in a way that is both emotionally grounded and lusciously sexy at the same time.

I have always played dating games. Always. And this time, I’ve decided not to. This terrifies me! I grew up on the East Coast, and I think West Coast women underestimate the importance of a man choosing to come to you. Games are just a way of taking a step back so that the man can come to you and find the distance that he wants, and in coming to you, he realizes if he cares for you.

And yet, with this man, I’ve decided not to. Several of my vanilla girlfriends have chewed me out for this—saying I absolutely cannot risk that with this man I claim to care about. But here’s the thing: This is the first man I’ve met in my 37 years that just opened me up and I was able to let go of all my self-consciousness, and all the ways I try to present myself in public. I was just how I really am, not who I try to pretend to be. And we just resonated with each other. I can’t expect to have that vital, centered and alive energy if I play games with him.

So I’m letting go of that entire dance of not returning phone calls when I want to and what not. But, I’ve decided on one single game, which is that I’m going to assume that he is my soul mate. This means, I’m not going to ask for reassurances. I’m going to let him set the pace, and I’m going to give him all the space he needs, because I know we are meant to be together. It will work out. I just need to give it room to breathe; I believe we will work.