“Men have no standards,” my friend joked recently. His wife said, “Now, what does that say about me, sweetie? If you have no standards…” it had the air of an oft-repeated conversation and I was irritated by the complacent amusement of both the women and men in the room. “No, it’s true – a man will do anything for sex with any woman. Or man, if he swings that way.”
What does this say about me? About poor undergraduate me, horny and single, hitting on every guy I met and getting chilly responses? Was I too hideous for guys who would literally sleep with anyone? Despite being told all my life that “girls can get action whenever they want” I never was able to “hook up” until I’d gone out with a guy for several dates. And I was really trying!
I’ve written a lot about how our society, in its popular media and advertising – in the stories we repeat frequently – erases female desire. A woman wanting to have sex appears either as a hideous virago or as the butt of a joke. (Or as what we are assured is a very male-centered fantasy in pornography.)
Because of this, women learn to be ashamed of their desires, and so hide them, and so the myth that women are less interested in sex perpetuates in a thousand tiny ways.
But there’s a companion myth I want to talk about – the myth of the horny dude. Where female desire is erased from the narrative, so is male reluctance. A man who even PAUSES at the thought of sex is either a hideous effeminate or the butt of a joke. (Or perhaps a very female-centered fantasy in pornography.)
Just like the erasure of female desire makes women ashamed, the erasure of male reluctance makes men ashamed or secretive about their lack of desire. They might act out to hide it. Who knows what damage this has on the male psyche?
It also harms women – it makes us assume male desire is always there. I wonder it isn’t the root cause of many instances of female-on-male harassment.
I remember an incident of my own foolishness. I was in a basement club with my girlfriends and I wanted to show myself as daring. I was maybe thirty. I pinched a passing guy’s ass. He gave me a confused look and continued on his way, and I instantly knew I’d been wrong, and I couldn’t understand, myself. This heavy weight of stereotype had prepared me, as a woman who had gotten catcalls and ass-pinches myself in clubs, to be thanked for my attention, however unasked-for.
Think about that. I initiated physical contact with a complete stranger and was surprised it didn’t go well. That is messed up. I was messed up.
In my writing, I often write men who are less-than-enthusiastic about sex. This reflects my own experience with men I’ve known and dated. Almost every time, a first reader will admonish me that I need to “write him like a man! He’s behaving like a woman!” Which is funny, of course, because my female characters, like me, are quite eager for sexual contact.
This harmful stereotype has the weight of real enjoyment behind it. People LIKE talking about insatiable men. Stories are more fun with eager coupling or burning lust. Maybe it feels like punching up – here’s something to mock the powerful for! We might not be able to drive, us ladies, but we can keep our pants on! Ha ha! Wink wink.
Ugh. Gross. No.
Let’s back off the poor boys. Let men be uninterested. It’s very manly.
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