Saturday, January 27, 2007

Faith and Questioning Sex

Lately I've been thinking about sex. A lot. No, not in a lusty, "I wonder what it be like to screw Johnny Depp" kind of way (although, that is what I'm thinking about now), but in a philosophical "what does this all mean?" kind of way. In order to avoid mass confusion, I'm going to go ahead and define, for the purposes of this entry, what I mean when I say "sex." Unless I specify otherwise, I am referring to vaginal intercourse. I'll save the "defining sex" debate for another time.

I am, for all technical purposes, a technical virgin, but upon further self-examination I've concluded that there is nothing virginal about me. I'm known for pushing the envelope and bending the rules in many areas of life, and this seems to be no exception. I told a friend of mine recently that I no longer feel I can claim the title of "virgin." "Sure you are," she said "Just change the meaning, like I did." But I can't seem to find it in myself to claim it, partially because I won't pretend to be something I'm not, and partially because I'm not sure the term holds much value to me anymore.

In my last relationship, sex was considered. He wanted it, I wanted it, we were in love, and dammit, he was hands down the hottest guy I'd ever dated (I know that's not a good reason to sleep with someone, but I'm just saying...). In the end I decided against it, mainly because I couldn't shake the feeling that I just might be making a big mistake.

Here's where my faith complicates things. You see, I was always taught that being a good Christian meant waiting until marriage for sex. Even in my slow but steady conversion from conservative to liberal Christianity I've held onto this principal. Then I began to date more seriously. Then I began to question the bible. And now, I'm steeped in confusion.

Will I be doomed to a terrible, unfulfilling marriage someday if I decide not to wait? I know that there are plenty of married people who did not wait who have great marriages, and many who did who are either divorced or miserably sticking it out. I'm not sure I believe that waiting will form the foundation for a strong marriage.

I've been told that sex before marriage will leave you feeling used, guilty, and regretful. In my experience, all of the stuff leading up to sex was amazing, liberating, and I haven't ever felt guilty about it. We (in my last relationship) were very purposeful in making sure that our sexual relationship was in line with our emotional one, and even though we are no longer together neither of us has regrets. So what does that lack of guilt mean? Am I just a bad Christian?

I'm sure that my struggle with this has something-- or everything-- to do with my view of God. Over the past couple of years he has morphed from a generous father-figure into a mean and vindictive supreme being. Everything he does is justified, and suffering needs no reason. He is the God of the Old Testament all over again. And I hate-- HATE-- being told to blindly obey him. Obedience is something I despise in the first place, but being told to unquestioningly obey someone you can't trust is something else entirely. I can't count how many times I have fallen into a dark and scary place, crying out for someone to save me, or at least be with me, and God has not been there. Seriously? I'm supposed to trust him? I'm just supposed to stick to this no sex before marriage thing even though it makes no sense to me?

I do know one thing, and that is that my two sexual experiences outside of a relationship did leave me feeling regretful and guilty. I know that I watch Sex and the City, and I honestly wonder how these women can sleep with so many men and not be dead inside. I know that sex is a big deal, and I don't take it lightly. But that's where I'm at with it.

I know that there are many people who can't relate to this struggle, but I think there are also many who do. I can see how, especially in a non-Christian context, my contemplation may seem like fear and over-analyzation. But here's the deal: there are many elements of Christianity that I have, quite happily, tossed down the drain. For whatever reason, I want to toss the sex issue and I can't. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to settle my uneasiness about it. So I will remain a single woman, clinging to some semblance of the Christian faith, who is sick of everyone else's answers and just wants to find her own. Maybe, hopefully, my answers will come sooner rather than later.

Friday, January 19, 2007

Where'd All the Manly Men Go?

I am dating a sissy. That's right; I said it: A Sissy. I do not say this lightly. I happen to love a man who can talk about his feelings and who enjoys art and maybe a little theatre from time to time. But this guy is not that kind of sissy. He doesn't read, and he hates art and sports for that matter. To make matters worse, he also has no friends. He is the kind of sissy who calls me more than he needs to and gets pissy if he feels that I don't call him enough.

Where is it written that to be in a relationship you have to give up having a life? I have certainly had my days of co-dependency, but I like to think I have grown up since then. I like to go out with the girls and have a beer, talk about our conquests, call the boy toy up for a little swaction (sweet action for those of you who don't know), and move on with my day. It's fine to call me, but I'm not looking to settle down here. I find it weird that he is so eager to settle down with me. And the thing is, if I was a man, this would be completely normal, but since I'm not, I'm the bitch. I should make more time for him. I should re-arrange my whole schedule to suit his neediness.

Right now, I am battling a cold, and he basically told me that if I don't come over tomorrow, he is coming over to see me. Period. I find this irritating. I have a lot of homework due tomorrow by midnight. In addition, I am a bad sick person, and I would very much like to lie on my couch and whine. He will only distract me from this project.

I guess what I really want to know is, what happened to all the manly men? I would love to find the kind of man who would come around, sweep me off my feet once a week, and then go out with the boys on the other nights. I would love to find the kind of man who just wanted to play around for awhile and see what came next. I would love to go on casual dates and see a movie or have dinner here and there. I would love to find a man who didn't whine and cry and piss and moan every time I said I was too busy to see him right this minute. What happened to those men? And do you have to sacrifice class if you find them? For example, the manly man I dated previously had a plastic bull's balls replica hanging from his pick-up truck hitch. Say it with me boys and girls: Mistake.

I guess that in the end, I don't want a guy to throw himself at me, and I wonder how and when it all got so serious. I miss the days when I could go to the movies with a guy, and it didn't automatically mean that I wanted to buy a split level together and have his babies. I wish I had the balls to say "If I'm playing it cool, you play it cool, too. Don't throw yourself at me; it makes you look desperate." I would like to do a little chasing for a change, too.

Saturday, January 13, 2007

the Untamed Woman

It has been a year since we broke up, and he is engaged. He, the commitment-hesitant, self-centered, easy-way-out ex of mine, is engaged. And in the end, he didn't choose me. In the end, he didn't love me.

I can rationalize my way out of a lot of things. I'm logical, overly emotional but cognitive to a fault. I know that so many things were lacking in our relationship, I know that I quieted my own needs to an unhealthy level, I know that I deserve someone who doesn't just look at me and say "I guess she'll do." I've accepted that our fate has been written and that we are not meant to be together; and still this voice in my head wonders-- "why wasn't it me?" and all the rationalization in the world can't shut it up.

One Sunday I got my answer in the strangest of ways. I was knee-deep in a Sex and the City marathon that had lasted all weekend. I was finishing disc 3 of season 2 when I watched an episode that tugged at my heart-- so much so that I'm almost ashamed to admit it. In the episode, Carrie is struggling to make peace with the fact that-- after two years of dating Big, he has moved on and is engaged to someone he has only dated for 5 months. "I broke him in" says Carrie, "I broke him in and now someone else gets to ride him."

Eventually Carrie confronts Big, and asks him the question that she believes will help her move on-- why wasn't it me? "I don't know," Big says. "It just got so hard." And Carrie has her answer.

When did we decide that relationships shouldn't be hard, I wonder. When this guy and I broke up, one of his good friends imparted her wisdom to me. "Things were just too hard, too complicated. Love shouldn't be that way, and it's better that you guys aren't together," she said with certainty. Though I am pretty sure she had the best of intentions, I'm also pretty sure that's bullshit.

Take a peek into the dating world and you'll see men, everywhere, who want to put as little into a relationship as possible. Men who want things easy and uncomplicated, with an extra dose of sexual chemistry and very little responsibility. I'm not saying that all men are like this, or that some women aren't either. But I've met countless men who are afraid of the hard work it takes to be in a great relationship.

I'm learning to see my complexity in a fairer light. Being complex doesn't mean that I am unnecessarily dramatic and immature. In reality, I am authentic, confident, and self-assured. I don't play mind games and I am not manipulative. But I am also complicated; I am a collection of mysteries just waiting to be figured out. I'm tired of being told to pretend that I don't have baggage, that I don't have doubts, or that I have it all figured out. The truth is that I'm a lot to take-- I believe that anyone who is truly vulnerable in a relationship can easily overwhelm others with their complexity. But I am also worth it. I am a great girlfriend, a great listener, a great companion. I am unlike any woman you will ever meet. And one day I hope I will meet a man who will not retreat at the sight of my naked, complex vulnerability. One day, I hope I will meet a man who will respond in the same way, a man who will not work towards his own self-preservation but for the preservation of us. A man who is willing to do the work, who is willing to fight for me.

The episode ends with Carrie's conclusion: "Then I had a thought. Maybe I didn't break Big. Maybe the problem was, he couldn't break me. Maybe some women aren't meant to be tamed. Maybe they need to run free, until they find someone just as wild to run with."

I move on, wild and untamed. Maybe someday I will find someone with the strength to catch me.