Femdenity: Female Identity away from set norms. Are you living the fun, fulfilling authentic life you've always wanted? If not, then I think it's time to (re)discover, love and embrace the real you.
Lately I've been really thinking about the monogamy myth our culture lives by. What myth you may ask? Well, the myth that monogamy is for everyone and is the only way to have a healthy relationship. I honestly never gave this much thought until late last year when I began to explore polyamory as a real option for couples and whether I should include it in my counseling practice.
So what exactly is polyamory? Well, it is the belief that you can have a loving relationship with more than one person at a time. Unlike swinging, sex is not the primary motivation, but it is the fulfillment of the relationship itself, and unlike cheating, you have to be open and honest with your partners. As a matter of fact, some of the key words I've found in research is that you have to have trust, honesty, empathy, great communication, deep consideration and most of all, you have to compromise. More than that, I've found that you have to really know yourself. Can you handle this type of relationship and more so, can you handle the thought of only being monogamous for the rest of your life? People are not typically told that they have options.
The truth of the matter is, there are many, many relationship types and options out there that people should be aware of. For instance, a couple can equally fall in love with another person and choose to spend the rest of their life with them. This is called a Triad. It is not unheard of for two couples to be in love and develop a Quad. There are even options of mutual asexuality. My point is, we need to open our minds to other options whether we choose to participate or not, and be willing to hear the story of those to choose to love differently. There is a lot we can all learn.
Note: If you are in a poly relationship, or tried it and decided that it was not for you, we'd love to hear your story. You can send your story to femdenity@gmail.com.
“Just Another Radical Marxist for Women’s Liberation.”
I’m going start this piece by making an unpopular statement: the feminist movement doesn’t go far enough. The feminist movement made some progressive gains for women, and stands for the social, political and economic equality between the sexes, but we have to take that further if we’re serious. I’m not one to mince words. I think everyone fighting for women’s liberation should be a Marxist. Marxism explains where oppression originates. Understanding where oppression comes from, and how it develops within society, is intrinsic to kicking that antiquated shit to the curb. Marxism also shows that the working class women and men of the world are the ones with the real axe to grind, and have the collective ability to make demands and effect real change. Feminism tells us that “Patriarchy” and “Privilege” are our oppressors. Sure, but where do they come from? They come from Capitalism! Now I think showing solidarity instead of instituting segregation should be the way we fight for social justice and equality. I think that uprooting oppression takes a revolutionary strategy that doesn’t stop at nonprofits and candle light vigils. I think women have always played integral roles in revolts, insurrection, and full-scale revolution, and I know we’re just getting started.
It’s important to locate the origins of women’s oppression to fully understand the role it plays in society currently. Only when you understand what you’re fighting can you begin to dismantle it. Now, I’ll keep it as concise as possible, I could write volumes on the subject (and people have) but I want to provide a snapshot to incite a dialogue about where women’s oppression stems from. But more than that--how I believe a Marxist strategy provides the framework to imagine a better world and start chipping away at the old one.
My academic background is in Feminist Theory, and let me preface with this, I wouldn’t trade my support or experiences within that program, however I recognize it’s predominant line of thought as incomplete and flawed because it plays to the ideas of privilege and patriarchy as the highest oppressors. This theory rarely takes economic or historical factors into contextual consideration. It also precludes that there is a global sisterhood shared by all women through their oppression from sexism.
From a realistic standpoint Hillary Clinton and I both share in oppression from sexism as women, however we experience it differently because of our respective class status. If we needed abortion services, she would indeed have a much easier time obtaining those services. Why? Because she would not have to worry about cost, finding an abortion fund to help with that cost, transportation, scheduling off from her 9-5 job, making rent after paying for the service, or having good insurance if there are attached complications. Hillary Clinton, along with all other rich, ruling class women do not experience threats to their reproductive freedom and bodily autonomy the way I and other working class /poor women experience those threats. This kicks to the curb the idea of a “global sisterhood.”
It’s time to stop the absurd unpacking of the “privilege knapsack,” and address the real threat to solidarity-the the ruling class. Not being stopped by the cops because of your outward appearance isn’t a privilege, it’s a right. Having access to decent healthcare isn’t a privilege, it’s a right. Being able to keep a roof over your head, regardless of what the economy is doing, isn’t a privilege, it’s a right. And it is a fundamental right for all to be able to go to a good school, and receive a quality education, it is not a privilege.
Oppressions need to be taken out of the abstract and made all the easier to get rid of; starting with sexism. Marxists draw upon Marx and Engels’ ideas which rejected outright the perspective (upheld by conservatives, but also by some feminists) that the low status of women was an unchanging feature of human existence—fixed for all time by human biology or by the ideas in people’s heads. Marxism’s understanding of history views human beings as not only products of the natural world, but as active agents able to interact with their environments, effecting change within themselves, their social structures and the natural world around them. This understanding doesn’t mesh with the flawed perspective that holds women as always being inferior, because it looks at the evidence of the evolution of human society.
Women’s status in society has always been related to the role they have played in the family, and the various forms the “family” has taken in history. Women’s roles changed with the development of private property. According to the sexual division of labor, men tended to take charge of heavier agricultural jobs, like plowing, since it was more difficult for pregnant or nursing women. As production shifted away from the household, the role of reproduction changed.
The shift toward agricultural production sharply increased the productivity of labor. This, in turn, increased the demand for labor because the greater the number of field workers meant the higher the yield. Thus, unlike previous hunter-gatherer societies, which sought to limit the number of offspring, agricultural societies sought to maximize women’s reproductive potential, so the family would have more children to help out with the work. Therefore, at the same time that men were playing an increasingly exclusive role in production, women were required to play a much more central role in reproduction.
The rigid sexual division of labor remained the same, but production shifted away from the household. The family no longer served anything but a reproductive function- it became an economic unit of consumption. Women became trapped within their individual families, as the reproducers of society, cut off from production. These changes took place first among the property-owning families, the first ruling class. But eventually, the nuclear family became an economic unit of society as a whole.
That is why capitalism has a vested interest in the continued oppression of women. If women had the unchallenged ability to control their reproductive means, and were compensated for work equally in society, the ruling class would lose its manufacturers of the next generation of poor workers. Capitalism is not only invested in creating sexist rhetoric to, “keep women in their place,” but it also has an interest in promoting racism, queer phobia, ageism, and disability exclusion as a means of weakening and dividing the working class, thereby driving down the costs of labour.
Marx was right about another thing, if oppression is made –that is, if it is not indigenous to the human spirit, but is created by people- then it also could be unmade. The first step in un-making social oppression is to understand where it comes from. Once we understand what we are up against, we can begin to destroy it. This means rejecting the capitalist system that fosters oppression, and joining the political struggle for full democracy. The working people of the world experience oppression everyday of their lives, and this is especially true of working women. We need to unite against what is made to divide us; we must struggle together as a united working class to achieve our own liberation. We must fight together for a just and equal society.
I used to be a woman that constantly craved a relationship. I enjoy companionship, and having a partner in crime at all times. I naturally assumed that it had to be with a boyfriend.
My last relationship ended rather abruptly, and it left me in a strange place. I can honestly say that I knew it wasn't going to be permanent from day one. I don't know why, but I just felt it. Still, having it end without even a warning made me really sit down and think things over.
At first, I remained single because it was the right thing to do. I was angry, and a bit bitter with how it was handled. I didn't want to punish some poor guy for actions that he didn't do. I also wasn't comfortable with talking about how it ended. I still don't completely know why. I won't go into the details, but my ex disappeared on me during Christmas and I never heard from him again. Yes, he is alive and well.
As time passed, I went on a few dates, but I still wasn't really open to the idea of letting my guard down. A few more months passed, and I tried dating again. Some of the people I had dinner with were nice and refreshing. There was nothing wrong with them, and they all would have been great potential boyfriends, but they still weren't for me.
It dawned on me then that for once in my life I was ok with not being in a relationship. I was genuinely interested in a few guys for a while, but I wasn't bothered when they didn't put in the effort. I wasn't on pins and needles waiting for a guy to call me, or getting giddy when I received a new text message. I just let them fall off and disappear into the sea of contact numbers in my cellphone.
I've spent so many years placing my efforts into getting to know someone else that I've ignored my relationship with myself. I used to be completely consumed by the men that I dated when I was younger, and that changed over my past few relationships.
Still, I was the workhorse. I made all of the calls and plans. Everything came down to me. To be honest, I felt worn out. The concept of entering another relationship where I might have to do that again is just daunting. I have better things to put my energy into.
I'm not saying that I am closed to the concept of dating and relationships. I still go on dates and I enjoy them. I guess I'm trying to say that I'm done with trying to fit square pegs into round holes. If things don't naturally evolve, then I don't see the point in bothering.
It's funny to me because I used to always be the gal pal with a man while the rest of the girls were single, but now I'm the only single lady in my group of friends. I like coming home and not having to worry about scheduling time to see a beau. I love the fact that I can just do things without having to worry if my boyfriend will be ok with it. God knows that I probably wouldn't be in burlesque if I was still with my ex. He secretly did me a favor. I'd probably call him an asshole and thank him in the same sentence if I saw him again.
For now, I focus on my relationships with my best friend and my family. I've taken this new found time to bond with my sisters and brother. I also spend more time trying new things and indulging myself. I figured out that my partner in crime in life is my best friend. It always has been, and it always will be. He knows what I am thinking with a simple look, and we basically have the same thought at the same time.
I'm sure that there is someone out there for me, and if he crosses my path I'll be sure to talk to him and see where things take us. I could always use another accomplice.
So if you're taken, don't assume that I'm out to steal your man, cause drama or that I need to be felt sorry for. I'm good with what I've been given, and if I happen to get a little more I'll take it.
The phrase "body acceptance" has become such a catch phrase now. It is even used by ad execs to sell products. The problem is, I don't believe people really have come any closer to accepting their bodies for what they are. As a matter of fact, I believe we are so bombarded with unrealistic ideas and images that we are in a world of perpetual denial of even what we look like. How is that possible when I look at myself in the mirror every day? Well it is. Think back to when you looked at a photo of yourself. I know for me, I am shocked sometimes to see how fat I am. How is that possible?! I am fat. I make no bones about it. I buy my clothes in my size, I see myself every day in the mirror several times a day. Hell, my stage name is even Adi Pose! What's with the sticker shock? But I am. I think my mind is bombarded with ideas of what I SHOULD look like versus what I actually do. That my dear, is not body acceptance.
But this is not only limited to size. I hear others complain about their nose, hair, skin, teeth, eyes, lips, ears... you name it and people hate it about themselves. They all seem shocked when they see in it in a picture. Well here's my solution. I'm putting a picture of myself (full body shot) on my mirror. I'm also going to make sure I have full body shot pictures of me and my friends in frames around the house. Why? Because I need to see the real me. I need to remind myself that I am awesome at my present state and replace the the false images I have in my head so I can embrace the real me. Also, it is a kick in the pants that if I don't like something about myself, then do something about it, but also remain reasonable. I am not some air brushed, photo-shopped model and never will be. It is time for me to really embrace the real me.
Nongendered. An interesting word. My word processor insists that I have misspelled something or made a mistake. It is sure that I mean gendered. This is somehow appropriate then, considering the way that people often respond to the idea. But let me back up.
I grew up in-between odd places and ideologies, in an area of town populated primarily with the economic victims of a white-flight scenario that left the area very poor. Like DuBois would have noticed, my psyche responded in kind to the reflections I saw of myself in other people’s eyes. I have always been the “other.” I was simultaneously terribly weak and threateningly strong. I was a victim and was responsible for the economic situation around me. I was a breathing dichotomy. I was white..
Of course, when we were all young no one noticed my whiteness really. Like a conundrum spoken of by King in his early memories, children of all colors played together until their elders started to advise them not to. But I knew then that I was no different… it was the world around me that was changing. I started not to trust what the world had to offer. I was not different at all. They were wrong.
I also grew up with a sister who had no sisters to play with, so she played with me. We played dolls, and she liked to put make up on me. My mom was rather forward thinking on this and my father was silent, but not un-approving. Many times I would walk around with my nails polished and get the compliments from passers-by to my mom, “What a pretty little girl.” My mom would of course have to correct them, but ultimately I never cared. I liked the color and did not mind the compliments. My brother was in on it too – he and I would pick flowers for my mom.
And I had to learn to fight. I have a scar on my back from the assault of a neighbor from where he bit me when we were eight and all the neighbors cheered him on. My skull was fractured and teeth busted out by some teen-aged hoodlums while I was walking home from kindergarten with my (not much) older siblings shouting defiantly to try to protect me. We were white, remember? Supposedly this was a good enough reason. I loved sports; though my mother did not let me play them (we could not afford the gear). I loved games of all sorts and excelled in school only when there was a competition.
As I grew older, it was clear that I had to choose sides. I could either be a competitive and scrappy boy or a sweet and loving girl. Ultimately, I called bullshit. I decided that all of this was simply a construct for control that had lost its usefulness, if indeed it were ever useful. It was easy for me though, I had no friends to lose.
I remember being in the 5th grade and learning that the gender and race information that I was having to fill out for school was optional information used by the school to help with tracking minority demographics and movements, and used by testing groups in Iowa to determine the intellectual progression of those same groups. It was time for my first act of rebellion. I simply opted not to fill in the information. I have left this information blank on every official document since then. Now, because it was left open, my school transcript lists me as a black female.
So here I am; a nurturing parent to my child yet I teach self-defense, a significant-other who cooks and cleans and works. I understand that people gain strength in identifying with others… I never have.
Half German and half Irish, I was raised in Arizona, England, Virginia, and Texas. Even though we settled in Texas when I was 8, I was exposed to many different people and environments during the crucial young child development years, and they left a permanent impression on me. Even after living in Abilene for years, I knew a Bible-thumping, Republican-voting lifestyle was not the only way to live. There were other, better options for me. If that’s the life someone else wants to lead, fine, but I knew I didn’t have to because it didn’t feel right. A life of khakis and polos, of going to Wilco concerts, of blindly accepting authority, of believing everything you hear on the news, of believing that uttering a few curse words here and there will end with you burning in Hell, I knew, was not for me.
I’ve always been incredibly shy, and I still am. I’ve just gotten better at hiding it. I wasn’t cute or cool in high school. I was too ambitious for the punks, didn’t wear enough black to fit in with the goths, was too weird for the nerds, and the preppies…well, who wants to fit in with those people? I never, ever fit in anywhere because I was too eclectic for my peers. I grew up loving classic rock; my favorite bands when I was 8 were Aerosmith, The Doors, The Rolling Stones, and The Cars. I hated the first day of school every year because the teacher would make us introduce ourselves to the rest of the class, and it was always the same for me. I rattled off my favorite books, movies, bands, and hobbies, and everyone looked at me like I was nuts. They had no idea what I was talking about, and thus, had no interest in any of it. The very fact that I did actually read for fun usually result in confused looks.
To top it off, I wasn’t comfortable being a girl for the longest time. When I (finally!) started developing in high school, I didn’t want to wear anything that actually fit me. At 5’2 and 110 lbs, I’d wear XL shirts, Jncos (remember when those were popular?) at least a size too big, and skater shoes. I wore dorky glasses and didn’t dare try putting on make-up, even though I really, really wanted to. I basically looked like Avril Lavigne, ties and all, before she came along and ruined it. I loved bright colors, crazy patterns, and wild hair; I just didn’t have the confidence to look the way I wanted to. I also was under the impression that I was chubby because I actually had a figure, hence the baggy clothes.
Moving to Denton to attend UNT, while it didn’t result in me receiving a degree, was by far the best thing I ever did for myself. Though it’s changed a lot since I first arrived, I’ll always be grateful to this city. Here, I found the courage to let my freak flag fly as high as it will go. I found the courage to embrace my feminine side, and I decided that being a weirdo is not so bad. I decided that I will never let anyone make me feel inferior just because they think I’m strange. Go on living in your nice safe, black-and-white, straight-and-narrow bubble, those who look down on me. That life ain’t for me.
I decided to give burlesque a shot a few years ago to help conquer my shyness and to give my girly side the ultimate outlet. I had absolutely no dance experience. Hell, I put on lipstick for the first time for one of my early burlesque shows in 2008. I’m still very much in the learning process, but I’m loving every bit of it, even the bad parts. I’ve met horrible people, but I’ve also met some wonderful people. I’ve had horrible experiences, but I’ve had some wonderful ones too. I wouldn’t change any of it for anything
Growing up I was the weird ugly kid that sat in the back of the classroom and mumbled at the other kids. I read books when they watched MTV, and I stayed on the swingset when they played volleyball. When boys would even look at me I would call them names and throw things at them. Why? I had the lowest self esteem imaginable. I grew up in an Irish Catholic family... lots of kids, mainly boys, so i grew up in jeans, t shirts, playing baseball and getting dirty. Being pretty was never on my mind. To add to my tomboyishness I had a wicked case of acne vulgaris (the kind that leaves massive scarring), screwed up teeth and a horrid haircut (chili bowl with curls. Yeah.) High school changed my life.
I had to attend a public school for the first time, because the area Catholic high school was out of our way to attend. The first day was unbearable. I went from a school of 150 kids (total) to having a freshman only class of 350 (over 1400 at that school). I wanted to die. But luckily, I met some female friends who took me under thier wing and showed me how to be a girl. They showed me the beauty of makeup, and my whole outlook on life changed. All of a sudden, I wasn't so ugly. Boys started talking to me, my hair grew out, and I got braces. I made friends that I have even still to this day.
Having been in dance most of my childhood, I decided to try out for my schools' prestigious kick squad and made the team! I fell in love with the overly sequined costume, the red lipstick, teased hair and blue eyeshadow. In college I participated in theater programs and found out that I was good at makeup. Really good. I started working in retail and my career went from there. I find the most satisfaction, however, in teaching what I know to others. Helping teens learn how to regain thier self esteem through corrective coverup, because I went through that. I have volunteered at battered women's shelters, teaching women how to find beauty in themselves, as part of programs to help them better thier life situation and find self worth and love.
My role models have always been drag queens, because they embody how I feel makeup is best used - a tool to become who you want to be. It's not just mascara or lip gloss, it can help you become more self confident in yourself. It can show your creativity and uniqueness, or help you blend in. To me, everytime I have a client in my chair, my goal is to make that person feel amazing about themselves... if they can look in the mirror and smile at thier reflection, if I can help them see the true beauty that they are, then I have done my job right. Beauty does come from within, but as women we should be able to change our appearance to suit what we want to see and show the world, and if I can help even a small group of women love themselves and find thier beauty, then I am satisfied.
