Wrong. I have ONE cause — Human Rights. All other rights issues stem from this central trunk of the rights and issues’ family tree. Women’s rights, LGBT, genital integrity, workers’ rights, children’s rights, and more — ALL are branches of the primary concept that roots us in our basic right to self-determination, autonomy, and our humanity.
Today provided a perfect example of how different experiences color our activism. Usually, this is a good thing, but occasionally, our pain from our own experiences clouds our words, resulting in our message devolving into a war of emotion. It becomes a contest of “my pain is greater than your pain” — a competition no one wins.
My morning started with me checking my Facebook and Twitter while I made breakfast as I hurried my daughter to get up, get ready for school, and catch the bus.
I try not to spend all day on Twitter, but tomorrow’s Full Moon seems to have kicked up people’s crazy cycles a day early.
First, on Facebook, I responded to a friend’s comment about his neighbors’ loud sex last night. As the conversation progressed to sex positions (okay, I brought it up), I mentioned that the reason the original missionary position is the only position ever condoned by the Catholic church was because it provides the least pleasure for the woman. It puts the man in the superior, stronger, aggressive position while the woman is inferior, at the mercy of the man, and passive and submissive. Another chick chimed in saying some women “love to be ‘conquered.’” As a woman who has spent most of my life fighting NOT to be conquered by men, I disagreed, but I did not linger since I had to get some real work done.
I spent a couple hours working my day-job (Thursdays are a day-off for me), and what followed was an entire day on social media in one activist role or another. And I have preserved some of those exchanges in the photo gallery below. (To view them at full size, click the box on the lower right of your screen.)
The second round of today’s activism started out simple enough — me talking about orgasms, specifically, mine, and how I cry when I orgasm. I followed that with a comment that men crying during orgasm is perfectly natural. Twitter being a public forum, a random guy jumped in the convo with a rude comment ridiculing how it would look with a “he man blowing his load and crying.” This began a series of tweets back and forth as I tried to explain that a man crying during orgasm is perfectly natural. After all, men are human beings, and human beings have feelings.
Apparently, men are still not allowed to be full human beings in our society.
The third and most exasperating exchange occurred with a man who, it turns out, is also an activist — an intactivist, to be precise. An intactivist is someone who fights for ending all circumcision — on males and females — because genital mutilation is a human rights violation of a child’s bodily autonomy and is sexual assault on the child. This guy had tweeted the following comment:
“The sexual urges of women in our society are more important than the pain of a baby boy.”
After a morning of hearing that some women want to be conquered, men who cry are not masculine, and a few other ridiculous notions that are proof positive our society is still sexually repressed and almost entirely mentally unbalanced, I could not sit by and let this tweet go without standing up for women’s right to be sexual and not be shamed for it. Did I do it the right way? Could I have handled myself better? Should I have called him a moron so many times? Maybe. Maybe not.
The thought I had toward the end of this Twitter war (that lasted over a couple hours) is that this guy is reacting and projecting because of his own pain with his circumcision. Just as I possibly was too harsh in earlier altercations today.
Hearing a woman wants to be conquered made me think back to when I was molested as a kid, my rape when I was 21, and my Steubenville-esque experience. Talking about the horribly unsatisfactory missionary position brought to mind my own status as one of the 70% of women who has never orgasmed during sex — a statistic for which I still feel shame for myself and anger at my partners for not caring enough about me to ensure I had pleasure, too. It reignited my distaste for the porn industry that created a caricature of women as hyper-orgasmic nymphomaniac slut-bunnies — as opposed to erotica that presents sex and sexuality in a beautiful, honorable way.
I was reminded yet again of the hundreds of thousands — if not millions — of women who have been raped, tortured, killed outright, and burned at the stake by the Christian church who has feared women’s sexual power since Peter stole the church’s high seat from Mary Magdalene. As a pagan witch doing research for my stage writings, I spent years reading witch trial transcripts, scouring historical documents of witch hunters, Inquisitors, and missionaries in Europe and in colonial America who were obsessed with exorcising the natural sexuality of women. This does not include the women who were beaten, raped, and killed for wanting the right to vote, or the right to fight alongside men in the modern military. Too many thoughts and memories swarmed in my mind.
Hearing that a man can’t cry when he experiences pleasure infuriated me because so much of our patriarchal, imperial, testosterone-driven culture still carries the gender-role prejudices of religion and hierarchical misogyny and misandry that does a disservice to women and men.
Today’s activism was about shame. And pain. And how, even when we mean well, speaking up for one issue cannot happen at the expense of demeaning other people who are probably also in pain. After all, the oppressive culture that says mutilating a child’s genitals is okay is the same repressive culture that says a woman is to blame for her rape because of how she was dressed, or two people cannot love each other because they’re the same gender.
I’ve been a grassroots activist for 27 years, and I’ve seen in-fighting in every single rights group I’ve ever worked with — religious rights, American Indian rights, LGBT rights, women’s rights. Who’s a real witch? Who’s a real Indian? Bisexuals aren’t really discriminated against. Women don’t need full body autonomy or equal pay. Conservative Democrats aren’t real Democrats. And it’s all bullshit.
My motto has always been, “Human Rights are non-negotiable.”
I love that there are so many of us, each working in a niche that is important to us. Yet, that does not mean one corner of activism outweighs another. We can’t all work for all causes at all times. We have to split up into different groups to cover all the bases. Remember that equality does not mean we are the same, but rather, though we may be different, we are of the same value as human beings. Our human rights family tree is rooted in and celebrates our differences, with roots deep in the soil of our humanity, echoing the ancient axiom, “As above, so below.”
However, if you only care about one group who is hurt or exploited and not another, then you’re not working for rights issues, you’re a special interest asshat who is no better than the elitist oppressors who mock human rights activism while making fortunes off the masses’ suffering.
So I may not know the full extent of pain that another person has experienced, just as they won’t know the full extent of mine. But we can try to listen better. We can forgo the pain-game and stick to the work at hand. Don’t allow the oppressors’ need to stuff us into boxes and categories or divide us into opposing sides hinder our work of coming together and doing the work.
We are better than that. Do the work. Be the Change.
We Are All Connected.
- NEWS: Zero Tolerance to Female Genital Mutilation
- OpEd: ‘Male Circumcision Is No Biggie’
- Anatomy: #TeamUncut Intact Natural Penis Collage for #ForeskinFriday (21+ NSFW)
- OpEd: The Face of Orgasm: Is Your Woman Faking Orgasms or Not?
- DailyOJ 01-26-13, Part 2: The Fear of Intimacy
- OpEd: America’s Love/Hate Relationship with Breasts
© 2013 by Trish Causey. All Rights Reserved.
“First I was afraid, I was petrified”…. Gloria Gaynor sings in my ear as I think over the past few days since I wrote the first post of this blog, “A Life Lived in Fear Is a Life Half-Lived.”
I knew I’d lose some followers and “friends,” and I have, but I have gained more — both in number and in reassurance, acceptance, and a similar experience of relating that has happened often on my “secret blog” for the past year. When I post my very personal articles on my own journey, people tell me how grateful they are that someone has expressed what they themselves have gone through, felt, or been confused by. They tell me on Twitter or leave a comment on my blog. I am always grateful that someone took the time to share their feelings with me in their comments.
Sharing my journey of (still) overcoming sexual abuse, a miserable marriage, and speaking out on women’s sexual health rights and issues, I was scared of losing people I care about — especially theatre people — whom I have loved for years. I should have known better. Theatre people are the AMAZINGEST people in the world. We understand and appreciate differences. We understand hardship and rejection better than most.
THANK YOU, my wonderful THEATRE FAMILY! And to those of you who have followed my AW Blog and been so supportive, I THANK YOU as well! MWAH xoxo
© 2013 by Trish Causey. All Rights Reserved.
If you know me, you know I cover New York’s Broadway theatre for a living, doing write-ups for shows, reviewing shows and cast albums, and hosting my own radio show, Musical Theatre Talk, on which I chat with Tony Award winners, Bway designers, and composers — I’ve even covered the Tonys! I do all this from Mississippi…. Yes, Mississippi…. How?…. I’m damn good at what I do…. (And I occasionally fly to New York.)
But there are other things you may not know about me….
In 1994, I discovered a quirky independent Australian film entitled Strictly Ballroom. Almost 20 years later, Strictly Ballroom remains in my list of Top 10 Best Films of all time.
The basic tenet of the film is a quote, supposedly of Spanish Romani origin, that goes, “A life lived in fear is a life half-lived.” I have taken this quote and sentiment as the “theme” for 2013 as well as for my updated website, and my continued activism on my “secret” blog that I sort of kept from my “respectable friends” because it deals with subject matters too indelicate for polite company.
For the past year, since starting my “secret” blog, I have lived in fear of what others would think — that they would shun me, rumors would start, and I would be all alone in the big, scary world.
What the FUCK was I thinking?!
Of course, I’ll be shunned. Of course, people will talk. THIS has been the one constant in my life — being the black sheep of the family, having family and so-called friends disown me for being truthful to myself and living that truth in the open, standing up for what I believe in, speaking out for other people’s rights as well as my own. Why the hell would I be surprised for people to abandon me now?!
The fear began at age 9 when I was molested by a neighbor, a teenage girl down the street. She knew how to get me to keep silent — she threatened to tell my mother. My mother was an evil bitch, a Catholic zealot, dependent victim, and recreational martyr. I wasn’t sure what was being done to me, but somehow, my mother was bound to twist it to being my fault. That threat — that fear of being shunned by those who were supposed to love me — had lived with me for years, well into adulthood.
At 21, I was raped. (No, Republicans, it was not your definition of “legitimate rape.” It was just date-rape, just me being violated in my home by someone I knew well, which I know doesn’t really count to you as “rape-rape” even though 80% of reported rapes are committed by someone the victim knows, not the stereotypical boogey-man.) Again, I lived in fear of others finding out, of being shunned and ridiculed by those who were supposed to love me, so I didn’t tell anyone — not one person, not even the police.
Since I was 13, I’ve spoken out on many things in regards to human rights and civil rights — sometimes in regard to how it applied to me as a woman, a bisexual, a heathen pagan. Mostly, however, I’ve fought for human rights on the macrocosmic scale — I’ve fought for the principal of the basic right of <__insert human rights issue here__>.
This time last year, something happened within me, and I could no longer keep all of this inside. I created my “secret” website and blog that I absolutely love writing. Yet, I lived in fear that if my family found out, I would lose the last of my family who still talk to me… and worse yet, my activism for women’s rights, women’s body autonomy, women’s sexual health, and my own personal journey in healing from sexual abuse would be used against me by my soon-to-be ex-husband to take my child away from me…. I repeat… I’m in Mississippi… not New York….
A few days ago, while looking ahead to running for public office and knowing my “secret” blog would become public knowledge, I began to update my personal website. For some reason, the quote from Strictly Ballroom resounded in my head: “A life lived in fear is a life half-lived.”
As happy as I am in my life as a single mom, a writer, an activist, a dreamer, I still lived in fear — which meant my life was not really my own. My fear still controlled me.
I knew then that I will no longer live in fear of losing people from my life. People who shun me for being an open, honest, and unapologetic loudmouth activist are missing out on one hell of a person in their lives. Their shunning says more about them than me. In fact, today on Twitter, I saw this quote in someone’s bio: “If you judge me, you don’t define me. You define yourself.”
So, here goes…. I’m coming out of the blogger and activist closet to let everyone know about my site and blog, ArousedWoman.com. (Begin shunning now….)
“Arouse” means “to stir to action, to awaken.” To me, this perfectly summed up my activism and the awakening I was experiencing on so many levels. A year of secret blogging later, I am proud to say I have a small following of readers — okay, they’re a fabulous fan-base whom I love dearly.
Here’s some more shun-worthy information:
I have never orgasmed during sex… but then 70% of women have never orgasmed during penetrative sex. I thought the problem was me. Turns out, not all of it was my fault. Some of it was the guys’ fault (okay, a lot of it has been the fault of the men in my life). A lot of it was the fault of the sexual abuse I suffered as a child and as an adult, and much to my surprise, a great deal of my issues with sex have come from the sexual harassment I’ve suffered since I suddenly developed breasts one night when I was 10. Therefore, I have written about my abuse as a kid as well as my date rape experience. I’ve written about my lifelong hatred of my breasts, as well as my fear of intimacy. I even wrote about my own Steubenville-esque experience that I was still carrying shame over.
I’m glad to say I am a multi-orgasmic woman — enjoying spontaneous O’s even! I have documented this journey in my DailyOJ posts. I am happier than I’ve ever been in that department… so much so that I now help others — men and women — with their sexual journey and sexual healing by answering their questions in my AskTrish posts and on Twitter. I love reading the comments by my readers on my blog and Twitter — they seem to like my OpEd pieces especially:
- OpEd: How I Like My Sex… Bare…
- OpEd: The Face of Orgasm: Is Your Woman Faking Orgasms or Not? (’cause really, most men are kinda clueless)
- OpEd: Fucking Cherokee Men (and Other People of Color)
I also review products including sex toys, books, lube, and music.
Still reading all this?…
AND I post erotic pictures on my AW Tumblr…. (no, not of me…. yet….)
AND I’m planning on hosting sexual wellness workshops….
AND I’m preparing an orgasm training workshop….
AND I’ve published a sample chapter of erotica on Amazon.com Kindle, that’s FREE for Prime members. (Tempted? Go ahead, you know you want to check it out…. I’ll wait right here for you to return…)
Oh…. you’re back? Great… Where was I…….
And is now a good time to mention I had to have a medical abortion in 1997?…. No?…. Oh…. Well, then, I guess I’ll save my tale of spending 20 minutes on the kitchen floor in such horrendously painful, incapacitating contortions I could not crawl across the floor to reach the phone to call 9-1-1… (twice)… for another time.
Still reading? Wow.
And I hate religion…. I am a very spiritual person, but religion is little more than man-made rules set by a core group of wealthy, powerful elitist men who suppress the masses into subjugation and adoration through machinations of fear and guilt — and who usually HATE WOMEN…. I don’t dislike the followers of religion necessarily — I like the UU’s, and I’ve never met a Methodist I didn’t like.
AND I am the Queen of Musical Theatre…. Seriously.
Now you know. My secrets are out. I no longer have any fear. My life is a life fully lived and living!
Judge me. You will be defining yourself, not me.
LOVE THIS? NOT SO MUCH? Leave a comment below! And feel free to share on social networks.
I recently announced new categories for posts on the topics of Health, Fitness, and Nutrition, and I’ve decided to take my ramblings a step further… and delve into other topics that are both mainstream and esoteric.
Hardly a day goes by that I don’t get an email, a tweet, or Tumblr Ask from a reader who wants to know my opinion on some topic regarding sexuality, health, fitness, women’s issues, or alternative subject: “Hey, Trish, what do you think about…” … porn… lingerie… anal sex… “Trish, do you have any thoughts about…” … marijuana… astral travel… the Saints winning another Super Bowl…
Well, of course, I do! (And no, the Saints will never win another Super Bowl. We never thought they’d win a first one!)
I have tucked my opinions about many topics within my posts here on my AW Blog, and my OpEd posts have addressed certain topics du jour. But I want to respond to these general topic requests that I feel are different from my AskTrish posts, which deal with a person’s specific situation. So my new “What I Really Think About…” posts will be filed under the new category WIRTA.
Also, I will be starting new series of posts on Dreams because dreams can be very important, as well as Recipes to help fuel your nutrition and aphrodisiac needs, plus other out-there, bohemian, pagan, witchy, crazy, alternative, quantum, woo-woo topics that tickle my fancy and make me ponder the meaning of life in the multiverse as a ball of energy hanging out in a physical meat-suit — this existence being a cozy boho-fabulous place I like to call Trishtopia.
So look for my new series beginning in March!
These will be separate categories but they certainly intertwine in their importance. Overall health is required for vibrant sexual response — even if you’re not with a partner. You cannot be truly healthy if you exercise a lot but then eat junk food on a regular basis. Likewise, eating a healthy diet but not allowing your body to utilize its full range of motion can adversely affect the muscles, tendons, ligaments, even your bone density and skeletal frame.
There is energy transference from the food you eat; and if you ingest unhealthy, “dead” energy, you are unhealthy, “dead” energy. The body can mask the mounting long-term effects of eating the Standard American Diet (SAD) until it seems too late. However, no matter how old you are or how long you’ve been out of shape, it’s never too late to revamp your approach to your health. After all, erections and orgasms require happy muscles and healthy blood vessels!
Your approach to balancing your overall health should include stress-reducing practices such as moderate exercise and meditation(!!!). No New Age woo-woo stuff here, people. Science is finally catching up to what yogis have known for millennia. Meditation is very good for you! Not only is meditation great for your mind, but it is also beneficial for your body by increasing oxygen intake, lowering blood pressure, and controlling stress hormones.
On the short list for topics, I will be discussing diet choices for aphrodisiac nutrition, primal/paleo vs. vegetarian/vegan, vitamins and minerals supplements, as well as fitness tips for functional strength/resistance training, flexibility, and range of motion, and other lifestyle choices that will keep your body in optimal orgasmic health. This summer, I hope to begin a video series on all this as well.
You only have one meat-suit, people. Take care of it while you’re using it this lifetime.
Hard to believe, but yes, ArousedWoman is now 1 year old. *WOO-HOO!!!*
Last year, I had started my activist site and blog, Activists’ Voice — I even started a radio show to go with that blog. However, with the crazy, misogynist landscape of the 2012 POTUS election, I needed to focus the scope of my activism toward women’s rights and women’s sexual autonomy issues. From that, ArousedWoman was born on Valentine’s Day, 2012.
This has been an incredible year. I’ve met some incredible people through my activism with AW, and I’ve come across some real jerks. Numerous people have told me how my blog has helped their own sexual journey, awakened their awareness to certain issues, as well as let them know they are not alone in their healing from abuse.
My DailyOJ has been called “brave” for its tell-all insights into a woman’s psyche and a woman’s experiences with sex, female anatomy, and multiple orgasms, but I’ve also had so-called liberals dismiss my journey as a “jerk-off blog.” (Whatever.) I let my opinion loose in my OpEd articles, and I’m so honored that readers trust me enough to ask my opinion on their own situations that I answer in my AskTrish series.
While I think society-at-large is a collective 4-year-old having a temper tantrum when it comes to sexual issues, I still think there is hope! And I’m looking forward to the year ahead as ArousedWoman’s path becomes clearer for me and how I want to help others. With the new forum and the radio show I hope to start (soon!), I think ArousedWoman’s upcoming year will be fantastic — thanks in large part to all of you!
Stay tuned as I have new AskTrish posts (with questions from women!), some interesting orgasm experiences to note in my DailyOJ, and a few new reviews of books and music as well as my review of my new sex toy (move over, Sparkles!! j/k ).
A male member of the AW Forum posted a discussion in the Music to Set the Mood area, saying:
“Just thought I would add a category that I like to call ‘Hard Erotica.’ It’s a little more gritty and animalistic… Sometimes a good fuck requires a little hair pulling….”
Seriously? We’re back to the “so easy a cave man could do it” attitude toward sex?
The songs to which this member linked were dance-music, “hardcore erotica” tracks from Basic Instinct and Madonna. As a composer of real music, I find that this sort of computerized drivel personifies what is wrong with popular music (overproduced, over-sampled, monotonous in “beat”), but I’ll leave that aside for now.
Describing an enthusiastic fuck as “animalistic” begins to lead the conversation about sex back toward hardcore porn — removing the humanity from sex and encouraging the monotonous mechanics of impersonal fucking — which is not something I subscribe to and is NOT the purpose of my forum or anything related to ArousedWoman(TM). Sex should be about connection — even casual fucking should have a dose of humanity and connectedness to it.
We all know sex can get really heated and… exuberant… that doesn’t mean the intent is “animalistic,” necessarily. This sort of description is exactly the terminology the church used to shame sex — that it was “base” and only for “lower” animals. Deep, fast, thrusting sex can be thrilling for sure, but that doesn’t mean it is “animalistic.” Sex can also be incredibly tender and beautiful. Sex should be a raising of energy between partners, not just a means of tension relief from erratic muscular contractions. In fact, from a Tantric perspective, the best orgasms happen from “slow sex.” (Yes, I said slow sex — as in, the man enters the vagina, and nobody moves for an hour… Yes, I said an hour.)
For myself, I make it clear to a partner that hair pulling is absolutely NOT OKAY. It’s not only a sign of aggravated assault (to me), but yanking a woman’s head back via hair pulling is dangerous to the cervical spine and the larynx (the tube for breathing and speech).
Men may have a fantasy about hair pulling because of what they’ve seen in “hardcore porn,” but only because they’ve never been on the receiving end of having their head yanked back by their long hair or ponytail. No, it is not the same feeling as when a woman curls her fingers in a man’s short hair (on his head) and pulls his head back (that is bad enough), but to have someone grab hold of your long hair, use it like a handle to jerk your head back is horribly painful — and again, dangerous to the neck and larynx.
Yes, I know, some readers will complain (again) that I’m being all “puritanical” and I’m “not at peace” with myself for expressing my opinion (and I’m not even on my period and all hormonal), but I don’t exist to perpetuate the stereotypes of women or sex. So suck it.
ArousedWoman(TM) is about awakening from the “dirty,” impersonal, shame-filled KoolAid of sexuality as demonized by religion and kinkified by a society still trying to find balance in sexual practices and “roles.” As I say on Twitter: “The human body is beautiful. Sex is beautiful.” Nothing about ArousedWoman(TM) is about hardcore porn, so find another site if that’s all you care about — there are plenty of porn & sex sites that perpetuate the pro-church, misogynistic attitudes toward sexuality. ArousedWoman(TM) is NOT one of those.
One last word on monotonous dance music… If a man can only move his hips in one rhythm, he’s a dud in bed. Give me a man who can fuck the 1812 Overture, and we’ll talk.
For some reason the topic of “talking dirty” has come up several times recently. Apparently, men are under the assumption that women want to talk dirty, that we like to talk dirty, that we live for talking dirty in bed.
What the hell?!
Actually, most women do NOT like the “talk dirty” part of sex that men addicted to porn seem to like, or men who still view women under the Maiden/Whore dichotomy — “bad” girls do what “good” girls won’t stereotype.
“Oooo, baby, yeah, fuck me. Fuck my pussy with your big fat cock, ram it in me hard…”
What does “talking dirty” do for the man? What purpose is it supposed to serve?
I, personally, would NEVER “talk dirty.” “Talking dirty” is a dumbing-down affectation of porn and perpetuates the compartmentalizing of a woman into labels and categories, separating her into disparate personalities — i.e., the good-hearted, nurturing woman who is a mother couldn’t possibly be associated with the multi-orgasmic cougar in bed. What better way to segregate the various aspects of woman than to ask her to say or do something so contrary from her everyday personality or communicative style?
Besides that, “talking dirty” is an insult to my intelligence and my extensive vocabulary as a professional writer and performer of language.
Yes, I call a penis a penis or lingam, and my vulva is my vulva or yoni. I may call a penis a dick, but that is rare; and I say testicles and balls interchangeably. Other than that, my vagina is my vagina, and my clit is my clit. The anus, ass, and perineum are synonymous for both sexes. And my breasts are breasts — NOT ANY OTHER HORRIBLE, DEGRADING TERM that MEN (and implant Barbies) USE FOR BREASTS. BREASTS!!! That’s what they’re called, and that’s what I call them. Calling various parts of my anatomy by other names — particularly “dirty” slang terms — disassociates me from my body, or places my body into parts ( J. Alfred Prufrock style) as mere “things” for someone else’s use and enjoyment, not mine.
On a side note, I will call ejaculate “cum” but having an orgasm is not “cumming” — since ejaculating and having (lots of) orgasms are two completely different functions. And yes, my vaginal fluids ARE the “nectar of the gods,” thank you very much!
As I wrote in my article “Me, My Breasts, and I,” I hated my breasts most of my life because of how men treated them and treated me because of them. My body image was molded through the perspective of others who did not value me as a person or my body as the physical extension of my self. It took a Tantric breast meditation to integrate my breasts to my body and my sense of self, to love my body. But now, to be considered “hot,” I have to “talk dirty”? Fuck that!
Why would I talk “dirty” when there’s nothing dirty about sex or being sexual? As I say on Twitter ALL THE TIME: “The human body is beautiful. Sex is beautiful.”
I’m beginning to think that the concept of “talking dirty” is for the sole purpose of distancing the partners from an emotional connection — to keep the sex as just physical as opposed to an opportunity to experience beautiful, mind-blowing orgasms. Even fuck-buddies can have a great connection beyond the physical orgasm — without the “complications” of the dreaded “relationship.” Even Tantra partners who are not “in love” would never “talk dirty” — that would be so disrespectful, particularly to the woman. The man is beautiful. The woman is beautiful. The experience is beautiful. No ramming or dirty talk required.
If you’re a woman and you actually like to talk dirty, I would love to hear from you — to hear why you like to talk dirty — and don’t say because your male partner likes it — ’cause then you’re doing it for him, not because the want and desire to “talk dirty” emanates naturally from within you.
I can’t “talk dirty” about the body or being sexual because I find them both to be wonderfully beautiful. And I felt that way long before I began studying Tantra.
So bite me.
Don’t get me wrong — I love ALL penises: circumcized penises, small penises, large penises, all of them. But some uncut men in the United States still have to deal with discrimination from partners who are unaccustomed to seeing, handling, or loving a natural, intact penis.
I recently saw a tortured comment from one uncut guy on Tumblr. He was so distraught by a girlfriend calling his natural penis “nasty,” he was seriously contemplating getting circumcized at his current age of 23 or 24. I was horrified — not only at the thought of an adult male choosing circumcision just to be considered “normal” in a culture that has no clue about what normal sexuality should be (i.e., not evil, not sinful, not shameful, not jackhammering a vagina), but this girlfriend then told all her friends about his “nasty” penis and he became the laughing stock of his friends and acquaintances — at a college, no less.
** Stepping up on soapbox: America’s Puritanical overlords and evangelical bullshit have so warped our culture, few people have a clue as to what is natural and beautiful… in penises, breasts, or vulva! And yes, I am one of those radical tree-huggers who views routine infant male circumcision and any female circumcision as aggravated sexual assault with a deadly weapon, with the perpetrators being culpable and deserving jail time. (Stepping down…) **
I have already had a few submissions, and while some are great, some are a bit lackluster — not for size or shape, but for the absolute disregard for ambiance!!! Jeez! Dudes! You’re taking pics of your penis for a woman!!! Why is the toilet in the background?!
So I’m laying out some Submission Guidelines.
- Photo must be of you and submitted by you, and YOU must be 21 years of age or older, regardless of where you live in the world.
- Photo must be a close-up of your penis and testicles, or of your body somewhere from your navel to above your knees, i.e., your face should not be in the pic.
- Multiple photos are permissible to show the way the foreskin moves/changes in different states: unaroused/natural, partially aroused, fully erect, etc. No cum shots will be posted (but you can send them anyway ).
- Photos should be taken in natural light with NO FLASH — using flash does NOT make your penis look inviting. (Sorry, but that’s the truth.) So take the pic near a window, outside in the woods or other place where you won’t be arrested for indecent exposure, etc.
- Higher resolution is better.
- Photo may be edited by me for size, color tone, etc.
- I HATE BLUE!!! So please don’t have anything blue in the picture.
- All men — straight, gay, bi — are more than welcome!
If in doubt as to tone and ambiance, PLEASE look at my Tumblr page. I adore sensuality. Crude porn shots is NOT what I’m looking for. I want to honor the male and the uncut penis.
Sumbit via email on the main ArousedWoman.com website.
P.S. Cut guys — feel free to send pics, too, and I’ll put them in a separate collage.
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* Visit the main ArousedWoman website. *
To support AW Radio & Forum, visit Trish’s GoFundMe page.
This is a quick note to let everyone know that I am taking the bull by the horns and starting up the Radio show and Forum that I’ve been wanting to create for a while now.
So many people ask me if I do podcasts, and I have to tell them, yes, but not yet for AW. Well, that’s changing!
While we dream of Utopia, running a radio show and hosting a forum is not free. It costs money for the licensed platforms even when the daily toil of maintaining each is based on sweat equity.
AW Radio will cover all aspects of the AW raison d’etre including Women’s Sexuality, Women’s Rights, LGBT, Survivors of Abuse, Religious Freedom, Indigenous Rights, Environmental Issues, Healthcare, Anti-Circumcision/Body Autonomy issues, and more.
The AW Forum will provide a safe place for like-minded individuals and orgs to talk about issues, recovery, and more importantly, foster solutions to put into practice. The Forum will be membership-based (to keep out the crazies) at $14.95/year, with a portion of the proceeds being donated annually to 2 organizations as voted on by the Forum community.
For more info on the Radio show as well as the Forum, visit my GoFundMe page I’ve started. Donations are securely processed by either WePay or PayPal (your choice!).
Be sure to check out the REWARD that accompanies each donation level, and make a TAX-DEDUCTIBLE donation if you can.
Released on Kindle a few months ago, Chapter 6 of Confessions of an Aroused Woman is now available as a .PDF for only $3.00. Based on personal experiences, Confessions of an Aroused Woman is a fictionalized series of erotica vignettes that is women-positive, sex-positive, and all-around fun to read.
Reviews on Amazon.com:
Refreshingly, realistically, erotic May 31, 2012 ~ By B. Lee
Trish Causey’s writing is as informative and exciting as her website. It is fascinating to read her first-person accounts of what an aroused woman feels and does. The scene in which she is showing her man her masturbation, describing in exquisite detail her actions and sensations and thoughts, while he honors her arousal and gradually contributes to it, is intense! The chapter is so descriptive, hot, and wet, that it’s almost an erotic case study, and men-loving women would do well to take notes, with a towel nearby.
An open door…May 31, 2012 ~ By Saloonsinger
I read with relish this chapter of Confessions of an Aroused Woman. Ms. Causey writes with power and emotion. She takes us with her on a journey into being her complete and sexual self, and in so doing opens the door for each of us to recognize the same power within us. I highly recommend her as someone to keep an eye out for in the book world.
One of my Twitter followers wrote on 09-03-12:
Purchase Chapter 6 for only $3.00… to tide you over until the entire book is ready for publication! Be sure to type in your email address, so I can email the .PDF to you.
‘ CONFESSIONS OF AN AROUSED WOMAN’ – CHAPTER 6 ~ $3.00
When you click through to the PayPal side, be sure to type in your email address in the comment area, so I can email you the .PDF. You will receive it within 12 hours of PayPal notifying me of your purchase.
Thank you! And I really hope you enjoy it. MUAH!! xoxo
So far, so good here on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. With Hurricane Isaac expected to hit in just a few hours, we are hunkered down. That it will hit on the 7th anniversary of Hurricane Katrina is something that I’ll process later.
I was out riding on my bike in the squalls since I don’t have a surfboard and can’t ride the waves. And I’m trying to finish my theatre writing deadlines because it is the dreaded last week of the month.
Power has been out twice, but it’s on for now (obviously). I’m in Jackson County, so while we are on the worst side (the northeastern quadrant), I think we’re out of harm’s way with the hurricane itself. The National Hurricane Center is predicting 14 to 20 inches of rain in the next 2 days for us though. And that’s where we might see some damage to power and water lines as trees are uprooted due to ground over-saturation.
The one thing I’m not looking forward to — aside from eating pre-prepared food, no electricity, no running water, and no computer (!!!), I’m not looking forward to the eery quiet once the power goes out. We really have no idea how loud human civilization is until Mother Nature forces you to be completely unplugged. No phones, computer fans, air conditioner hum, the fridge, the icemaker, the dishwasher, the streetlight buzz, engines, motors, weedwackers — the bells, whistles, dings, and zings of everyday life — just absolute quiet.
As the full-on part of the storm starts, the wind whistles. The animals stopped making sounds hours before. As the eyewall approaches, it sounds like a hundred trains going over your head. It’s quiet again when you’re in the eye of the storm, then more trains as the back side of the hurricane goes over. The rains stay for as long as the storm stays organized over water and even over land. There will be lightning and tornadoes. Then all is quiet again. The quiet is strange at first, then you realize it’s you resetting to the natural energy around you. After a while you get used to that and really know what it means to be connected to earth energy — after being so affected by water and wind energies. Then the electricity comes back on. Makes you wonder which is the real “power”……. And y’all thought a little ol’ Fire Spirit like me couldn’t play nice with the other energies? Tsk… tsk…
And no, FedEx did not bring my phone. And I’m kinda annoyed I can’t get any footage of Isaac.
In other news, I rescued a baby squirrel who fell 25 feet out of a pecan tree this morning. So my daughter and I are feeding him and taking care him until I can find him a new home. His name, for now, is “Chipmunk.”
Copyright 2012 by Trish Causey. All Rights Reserved.
It’s been said that every woman fakes orgasms at some point. Well, I’m here to tell you I never did. Never. I never had an orgasm during partnered sex, and I sure wasn’t going to fake it. I made sure the guy knew I wasn’t seeing god, or cosmic rainbows, or magickal unicorns just because his penis was inside me. He could deal with his ego later.
Recently, I read a particular, highly recommended book on cunnilingus but had a difficult time finishing it. The anatomic information was mostly good, but the male writer’s anecdotes about female orgasm were peppered with sexist, rude, even misogynist remarks I simply could not overlook. Having admitted that he was bad at sex and suffered with erectile issues, the author made the egregious comment that screamers and women who throw their heads back are “obvious” orgasm fakers.
I wanted to throw the book across the room, but unfortunately, I was at a restaurant. (Yes, I read sex books while eating… lunch.)
Women are complex creatures and are, thusly, capable of complex, varied types of orgasms. It only makes sense that the body and the face would have different corresponding reactions. Yes, I said body. Were you only watching her face?
For a traditional clitoral orgasm, the orgasm is localized to the clit/genital area. The woman’s torso will most likely crunch forward. The hips/pelvis will tuck or raise up off the bed. Her face will similarly be “crunched” into a look she wouldn’t really want to make otherwise: furrowed brow, gritting the teeth, even jutting the jaw forward. (I could go into my theory on why this is but I would have to bore you with vocal science and the pedagogy of phonation.)
A vaginal/She Spot orgasm tends to be a full-body wave type of orgasm that washes over the body but lacks the explosion of the clitoral orgasm. The woman’s mouth will be open, the jaw down and back, and she may moan differently because of it. Her head may tilt backward, and she may even arch her back. Please note the vagina has numerous spots capable of various kinds of pleasure and responses.
A blended orgasm that stems from both clitoral and vaginal/She Spot simulation is one of the most sought after orgasms because of its full-body wave effect coupled with the clit explosion. This orgasm can induce both crunching forward and wild hip motions, plus arching backward, head back, and delicious moaning.
Other types of orgasms include nipple O’s, cervical O’s, orgasms of the P-spot, the K-spot, the perineal sponge, urethral/urination orgasms, anal O’s, and anywhere else on the body that she is super sensitive to touch.
Of all the physically-based orgasms, the most intense, for me, personally, is the uterine orgasm. The uterine orgasm is brought on by stimulation of the cervix and A-Spot, coincidentally stimulating the prostate/She Spot at the same time. This results in a compulsory doubling over and emotional outburst — a true gut-wrenching thrashing usually accompanied by uncontrollable crying. Not pretty crying either. So the face of this orgasm is kind of like a nervous breakdown — a bit unnerving for onlookers but soul-shatteringly amazing to experience.
These signs are for physically-based orgasms that most people can do without much effort. Use plenty of lube, work the spots, communicate — not very difficult. However, energy-based orgasms cause the body to twist and contort in ways unimaginable.
Kundalini orgasms are known for inducing a sharp, sudden, involuntary arching of the back, in both women and men. While some men consider arching the back to be a “woman’s” type of orgasm, I like to think of this phenomenon as a “human being’s” orgasmic response. For Kundalini orgasms, the mouth may be wide open, deep moans being heard, while the head is bent so far back, you might think the woman is going into a gymnast’s backbend. All of this is involuntary. (And pretty frickin’ incredible!)
So what is the face of a woman who is having real orgasms? Not something she’d want posted in the church’s Sunday bulletin, that’s for sure. If the woman can, in any way, be considered to look “pretty,” she’s not having a real orgasm.
If she is crunching forward and her face looks as if she is somewhere between “really pissed off” and “warrior queen about to rip your limbs from your body,” then she’s probably having a real orgasm. If her head is back, her mouth open, and her brow slightly to fully furrowed, that’s a great sign of a real orgasm as well. When her arms fly up over her head, don’t be offended! This doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to hold on to you. Especially if her hands wind up behind her head, this is a great sign of a deep, powerful orgasm. (If you’ve read my DailyOJ, you know I can vouch for this effect.)
Her eyes may be open during clitoral orgasms, but for most other types of orgasms, her eyes will probably be closed. For myself, I’ve noticed my eyes shoot open at the onset of blended orgasms but then immediately close again through the rest of the climax/multiple orgasms. For Kundalini orgasms, my eyes are closed, head is all the way back, hands fly up over my head, and my body rocks-and-rolls side to side while my knees come up, then my legs kick out over and over again. (Just sayin’.)
You decide: Which one is faking and which one is real?
Along with the facial contortions or the gaping jaw and arching back, her skin will become flush due to increased blood flow, her nipples may be so perky they’re reaching for the ceiling, and her hips (hell, most of her body) will be moving involuntarily. For energy orgasms, she will probably be rockin’-and-rollin’ side to side with extra contractions and rolling through her abdominals, not just crunching forward or arching backward as during physical orgasms.
If she can speak in complete sentences, or is constantly reassuring your ego, she might be faking for your benefit. If her words are incoherent and grabbing at you is her only primal form of communication, then you might be on the right track — to helping her orgasm.
More importantly, don’t be so visual. This isn’t porn. This is a real, live woman. You need to feel her reactions. When a woman is close to orgasm, especially if any clitoral stimulation has been done, the clitoral bulbs that form a “horseshoe” over and around the vaginal opening expand with blood flow, just as the penis expands with blood flow during arousal. This feels like a vice-grip clamping down on your penis.
(Side note: My asshole ex-husband used to tell me he didn’t like the vice-grip feeling because it made him start to lose his erection… so that’s probably why I never orgasmed with him.)
Remember, guys. You cannot “make” a woman orgasm. Orgasm begins and ends in the woman’s mind — not just her brain. Stimulate her mind first and the body will follow suit. In fact, the face and body will tell you everything if your sexual relationship is rooted in honest communication.
What does your face look like in orgasm? Send me a picture, and I just might post it!
As a stage artist, I trained my voice for years. I studied the sounds we make and how we make them. As a writer, and especially as a lyricist, I have toiled over the perfect words to scribe for dialogue or a song because the sound of the word itself has as much of an effect on the listener as the meaning of the word.
Just talking about rape brings strong emotions from women (and men!) who have experienced rape as a teen or an adult, or rape as a child, more commonly known by its euphemistic pseudonym, molestation.
Years ago, I realized that “rape” is a harsh word just as the act of rape is harsh. The growling of the “R”, the blunt hit of the unaspirated, hard “P” mimics the sharp, precise consonants’ onomatopoeia effect of “BruTal” and “aTTacK.” Conversely, the word “molestation” rolls of the tongue, rendering the word practically useless in conveying the horror of being raped as a child and softening the disdain society might otherwise feel. Example, decide for yourself which sounds worse: “A priest molested a boy” … or … “A priest raped a boy.”
I’ve rarely talked about my “molestation” as a kid, and I’ve almost never talked about the night I was raped. Only recently did I even tell people that I was still a virgin at age 21 — it was here on this blog, actually. For some reason, our hypersexualized culture has made it shameful to hold off on sex until a person is really ready. It’s as if teens must be sexual or they’re not normal. I was normal in many ways, but still dealing with my “molestation,” I had lots of issues I had to work out on my own when I was a teenager.
Also, my rape was not “real” rape. My rape would be sub-classified as “date-rape.”
We were in my bedroom — so clearly, I was “asking for it.” I was wearing a button down shirt and jeans. In 1994, it was fashionable to wear jeans that had rips in them. Mine did, right along the ass-line of the left leg. If a woman can show some butt cheek when she wears a swimsuit or shorts, I didn’t see the harm in a little peek-a-boo of my upper thigh at the butt line. And I was in my own home.
We were talking on the bed — but neither he nor I even mentioned having sex together. The next thing I knew I was being flipped over, my shirt ripped open, and he was inside me. I couldn’t think. The shock of pain like a thousand daggers stabbing me in my core and up my spine was something I’d never felt before. I couldn’t breathe. My brain started going into survival mode, and I felt like I was about to black out. I felt as if I were falling backward into an abyss. I couldn’t feel the bed or even him in that moment, just falling and shockingly intense pain throughout my body.
I realized I was still wearing my jeans. The button was still done, the zipper was zipped. He had entered me through the rip in my jeans. Dry mouthed, I asked him to slow down so I could adjust. All the while, I’m thinking, “How did he do that? Just breathe… How did he get inside of me with my jeans still on?” He said my tightness just made him harder, so he went faster. He said he couldn’t help himself… He pulled out, pulled me on the floor to my knees and told me to suck him off — he’d been wanting me to give him a blow job “for forever,” he said. Then he grabbed my hair and rammed my head down on his erection. I was still in shock, so my mouth must have felt like sandpaper. I was in a daze, on my knees, trying not to throw up, wearing all my clothes, trying to process what was happening. Just as quickly, it was over, and he was leaving. He was a friend. Dazed, but still true to my Southern upbringing of being polite, I walked him to his apartment a few buildings over. I walked home, but noticed I couldn’t feel the ground beneath me; my legs felt like jelly.
I stood in the center of my room, looking at the bed. I felt this whoosh of fluid. I was bleeding. I bled for 4 days. I thought about going to the police, but most of the people I knew also knew him. And if it went to trial, my “character witnesses” would all say they thought I’d been whoring for years — everyone assumed I was “loose” because I had large breasts. I feared being laughed at by the male policemen, ridiculed in court, verbally attacked by the opposing lawyer — I’ve watched enough TV to know how rape accusers are treated in court.
Yet, the hardest part — the part that actually made me not report my rape — was having to say in public that I was technically still a virgin at the old age of 21. Who would believe that? So I didn’t go to the police. Or the hospital. I just prayed I had not contracted some disease. After all, it seemed getting raped was inevitable in our society, so why should I complain? It’s not like is was a “bad rape” like being mauled in an alley by a scary boogeyman.
So then, maybe I wasn’t really raped. Maybe it was “just sex” after all…. Maybe sex with all my clothes on and without my permission is just “date-sex-I-didn’t-want-to-have-especially-since-I-was-a-virgin-but-it’s-not-really-rape.” Maybe Comedy Central comedian Daniel Tosh has a funny rape-joke commentary to make on my behalf?
People still think rape only occurs when the scary boogeyman assaults a woman in the mall parking lot at 10 p.m. Most women are raped by men (or women!) they know, particularly their spouses, family members, or neighbors. Rape is not the bullshit storyline you’ll see on Lifetime Television for Victims, just like you won’t find the secrets of orgasms in a Cosmo poll.
Because of my experience, I don’t do “blow jobs” — I do oral sex on my terms. I tell a man ahead of time not to grab my hair or he’s getting a fist in his balls. I also don’t get on my knees for any man or any god. More importantly, I don’t blame all men or hate the penis for what was done to me by one man.
As the mother of a daughter, the one thing that guided me in practically every decision I have made in her care and upbringing was that I wanted her to get to the age of 18 without being molested or raped. Now that she’s 14, I’m working on making sure she has a foundation of what is right for her and that she never has to succumb to an abuser. The age of 18 is now innocuous as I no longer hold the pessimistic world view that being raped is an inevitable fact of life for women.
Rape is not inevitable. Rape is preventable. To me, “rape culture” is a society that knows rape and sexual abuse are wrong but looks the other way while mocking the survivors who are willing to speak up and shaming the survivors too scared to speak out.
When our culture stops heeding the media’s marketing and drinking the misogynist KoolAid that de-values our experiences as rape survivors, only then can we adequately prevent rape from happening. Women, men, and children are experience rape on a daily basis. Rape culture exists in religion as well as government and society. Rape is a tool of war. It’s time we put an end to the rape culture that propagates sexual abuse while it terrorizes and punishes the survivors.
Rape is not inevitable. Rape is preventable. End #RapeCulture.
1 – those who are completely unaware of an issue so their apathy is due to ignorance…
2 – those who are aware of the issues but have been drinking the Kool-aid too long to see the rights violations right in front of them…
Or in this case, in their pants.
Last night on Facebook, I updated my status with this:
“My thoughts on FGM & Male Circumcision: Any body modification not fully consented to by the person on whom it is being done is straight up EVIL & being perpetrated by ASSHOLES.”
After yet another exhibition of my Irish gift of being blunt, an interesting discussion followed by friends who, of course, feel similarly. I went on to say:
“Any change to the body is the basic human right of THAT PERSON to make a change to the body. Especially when this isn’t a life-threatening situation. Circumcision in 1st world countries is done out of habit more than educated knowledge that it is a religious act — and since many white Americans proudly claim to be Christian, why the hell do they do this to their babies? (Though I think brainwashing a child in any one religion is also heinous, but that’s another convo.)… Many people do not realize that baby boys die from male circumcision, just as some girls die from FGM. Female Genital Mutilation is the definition of barbaric & misogynist.
“P.S. I refused to cut my daughter’s hair until SHE was ready to have her hair cut. Most people see the hair as dead, but it isn’t — not from a spiritual perspective (and no, I’m not Indian)… I gave [her] her first haircut on her 5th birthday, and her ears were pierced 5 years later. Her body. Her choices.”
One enlightened friend wrote about male circumcision:
“It’s traumatic to babies, it’s dangerous, and so unnecessary. The argument “so he’ll look like his father” makes me want to fight! If Dad was missing a finger, would we chop one of baby’s fingers off too? And then there’s the rampant sexual dysfunction caused by corneated glanses that guys have to beat the crap out of in order to get off.”
Then there was one comment that left me with my jaw hanging open as disgust and dismay ran through my bloodstream.
One commenter wrote:
“FGM is a sin (if you are a believer in such) and a crime against nature, but male circumcision is no biggie. It actually has proponents in the medical field who make good arguments for it.”
While I love it when people agree with me, the only time I can truly create change is when I’ve reached someone whose ideology is different (read: narrow-minded and uneducated). So my response is thus:
- No, I don’t believe in sin. “Sin” is a carefully crafted construct of religious propaganda to steer the masses into doing its bidding, which usually entails keeping the rich, white guys wealthy and in control. (Where have I heard that before?)
- Circumcision IS a “biggie” to the innocent baby on whom this violation is being perpetrated.
- The so-called medical proponents must be operating under the delusion of religious brainwashing, socio-cultural conditioning, or being highly compensated to keep spouting these “medically necessary” lies regarding male circumcision.
Circumcision as we know it is a practice of the Abrahamic religions, namely Judaism and its spin-offs Christianity and Islam. As with many aspects of the Jewish faith, Judaism was heavily influenced by the religious practices and ideologies of Ancient Egypt, which is known to have practiced circumcision on adult men who chose to be circumcised as part of their initiation into the priests’ order.
Because of the spread of these religions outside their indigenous Middle Eastern origins, the brutal practice of shearing the foreskin off a newborn’s penis has gone global. However, not every country under these religious delusions practices male circumcision.
The proponents for male circumcision offer little medical evidence that it is actually “necessary.” Also, I would rather trust the body’s inherent intelligence that it has a foreskin because it serves a purpose — to the boy who will become a man. Granted, I don’t know why we still have an appendix, but I do know why my clitoris has a hood — the same reason the male version of the clit, the glans penis, also has a hood.
Proponents for male circumcision also offer the ridiculous argument that boys want to “look like their father.” Was the father circumcised later in his life when he was old enough to make an educated, informed decision based on his personal preference to have the foreskin removed? Likely not. The father was probably circumcised as an infant as well, without his consent.
Those who say circumcision prevents AIDS and HIV transmission are also not getting the whole picture. Plenty of circumcised men in America have HIV or AIDS. The lack of foreskin didn’t prevent the spread of the sexually transmitted disease. Here’s an article from the University of Oxford regarding medical studies supposedly supporting male circumcision.
Essentially, the issue of male circumcision is one of basic Human Rights, that a person has the basic right to choose what happens to her or his body. No one should be allowed to make such a permanent change to a person’s body without their consent.
Informed consent is crucial because of the medical and sexual ramifications, including permanent physical damage to the penis, the urethra, as well as the psychological repercussions as the child grows up.
What if the government passed a law that all baby boys must have their pinky amputated? Or their left ear? Or their nose? Would you willingly submit your newborn child to this just because the government said to? I doubt it. But parents willingly subject their baby boy to having a part of his anatomy amputated just because of a tradition from a Middle Eastern religion and/or American cultural conditioning?
I absolutely think there should be legislation prohibiting circumcision since there are fanatics who will keep enacting this barbarity on baby boys UNLESS legislation bans circumcision. If someone cut a slice out of my daughter, that act is punishable by law with prison time because it is aggravated assault and endangering the welfare of a minor. But circumcision is okay?! NO!
Others would say that banning circumcision violates the parents’ First Amendment freedom of religion. Then what about the baby’s fundamental First Amendment right to Freedom FROM his parents’ religion — to remain a whole human being?
But I’m a female. What would I know about wanting to preserve a person’s right to choose what happens to their body?
Here are some facts from the wonderful website, IntactAmerica:
- Risks include infection, hemorrhage, scarring, difficulty urinating, loss of part or all of the penis, and even death.
- The amount of skin removed in a typical infant circumcision is the equivalent of 15 square inches in an adult male.
- No professional medical association in the U.S. or anywhere else in the world recommends routine circumcision as medically necessary.
- Most medically advanced nations do not practice child circumcision. Three quarters of the world’s men are intact.
- The foreskin is actually an important and functional body part, protecting the head of the penis from injury and providing moisture and lubrication. Circumcision also diminishes sexual pleasure later in life.
- Claims that circumcision prevents HIV have repeatedly been proven to be exaggerated or false.
- Whatever the rationale, forced removal of healthy genital tissue from any child – male or female – is unethical. Boys have the same right as girls to an intact body, and to be spared this inhumane, unnecessary surgery. (Okay, I threw this one in because of its comparison to Female Genital Mutilation.)
Source: IntactAmerica.org, “The Facts Behind Circumcision”
I can only surmise that the men who are pro-circumcision are circumcised themselves (and the women who are pro-circ have only been with circumcised partners), and the thought of a “different”-looking penis is too weird for them to accept what is natural. Or the circumcised men feel jealous that they might be missing out on sexual pleasure, so they want all men to miss out on sexual pleasure, perpetuating this basic Human Rights violation on these innocent children.
No one can undo the past, so if you’re a man who is circumcised, please don’t feel jealous. Sexual pleasure is an energy, and incredible sexual pleasure can be learned without the need for genital stimulation at all.
Just as women need to speak out for women’s rights, men need to speak out against male circumcision. The voice being heard has to come from the gender being violated. But know, we women are here to support you in ending this heinous practice of non-consensual circumcision just as we know you guys are here to support us in our fight to keep control over our bodies.
Male circumcision IS a “biggie.” Circumcision is a Human Rights violation that scars the male in more ways than just physically. If need be, let’s get Congress to enact legislation to prohibit male circumcision. It is the individual male’s right to choose what happens to his body.
The “red-blooded-ness” of the American male’s manhood is quantified by the degree to which he holds breasts in esteem and wants to hold them in his hands… and his mouth… and slide his erection between them. As one former beau put it, “There’s a whole world of breasts out there, and I can’t die till I’ve seen every pair of them.”
Over the last 40 years, breasts have not only become a national obsession, they’ve become big business spurring the porn and plastic surgery industries to gigantic proportions — a different kind of #WarOnWomen. One might think that porn invented breasts — or even the proliferation of showing breasts, but ancient art and fertility sites clearly indicate the female form has been revered for millennia.
The breast is a gland. Anatomically, female breasts are almost identical to the male breast, though we are unaccustomed to referring to the male’s pectoral/nipple area as a “breast.” The underlying structure of the breast is the pectoral muscle, over which the mammary glands and ducts and fat tissue protrude from the body in post-pubescent females and some men. Men can get breast cancer, and some men even lactate and have breastfed their babies. Men who have excess breast tissue may have a hormonal condition known as gynecomastia, treatment of which is usually surgical male breast reduction.
Our perception of breasts — what they should look like, how they should move, what they should feel like, has changed drastically with the mainstreaming of porn and the life-altering rise of the internet. With sex readily available on any device capable of an internet or wi-fi connection, fake breasts and staged sex are literally at your fingertips 24/7. But what has all this accessibility done to the breast? To women’s bodies? To our body image and self-esteem? Do men even know what real breasts look like anymore?
Real breasts come in many shapes, sizes, and colors. Though the exact look and feel of the breasts varies with the woman, for the most part women’s breasts are oval shaped (not spherical), with the majority of the breast tissue being at or below the nipple/areola complex, and the nipples angled slightly outward, away from each other. In larger breasts, the areola may be oval-shaped as well. Because real breasts function at the demand of the law of gravity, they move — sometimes down, sometimes to the sides toward the armpits, or away from each other all together. Real breasts move.
Thanks to porn and plastic surgery, the placement and the size of implants has created a distorted view of women’s breasts. At times, it seems as if even the doctors don’t know what breasts are supposed to look like!
With results that can appear as if basketballs were surgically implanted, fake breasts can look completely unnatural: spherical instead of oval, the areolas too small in proportion to the size of the breast, the nipples pointing straight out — or worse, upwards.
Implants are inserted at the areola line, inframammary line, or under the armpit, cutting through the nerve-rich tissue and leaving some implantees with little to no sensation in the nipples. Permanently. Considering the nipples are wired directly to the clitoris, why would a woman sacrifice a lifetime of orgasms for money she might earn in porn or stripping — or worse, because she feels inadequate with her body because of the pressure to have huge, high, perfect breasts?
With fake breasts, the implant is placed under the pectoral muscle. Essentially, the implant is held up by the chest wall muscles, rendering the breast an almost motionless appendage. (How are real breasts supposed to compete with this?!)
I’d like to say I don’t have a problem with implants, but yes, I really do have a problem with implants when the woman is getting them because she feels inferior due to media and socio-cultural conditioning. But I recognize this is my problem, and a woman’s body is hers to do with as she chooses. I certainly have no problem with implants for women who are reconstructing their breast(s) post-breast cancer or are evening out a condition in which one breast is underdeveloped. But these are not the majority of women seeking breast augmentation.
Having worked for a plastic surgeon, I heard many women say that they wanted the implants to give them the look of a push-up bra without having to wear a bra. Many implantees get their breasts done with a “pushed up” curvature in the center. Presto! Permanent cleavage.
The proliferation of the push-up bra phenomenon is a direct result of the breast-obsessed culture. While you can argue that the pushed up nature of brassieres harkens back to the days of corsets, the reality is that for most of the corset’s history, the job of the corset (or “pair of bodies” as it was originally called) was to shape the torso into the desired look of the time, not push the breasts up and in.
The pushing up and in of the breasts is actually the complete opposite of what is natural for the breasts and for innate biological signs of sexual maturity. The dropping of the breast tissue is the last phase of puberty for the breasts, and this may not fully happen until the woman is 21 years old. When plastic surgeons are taking measurements for a patient’s breast reduction, they gauge the new nipple line at the inframammary fold, where the underside of the breast meets the torso. So if cosmetic surgeons can get this right with breast reduction, why do they purposely get it so very wrong for breast augmentation?
The hypersexualization of women’s breasts has surpassed the porn and skin mags industry, with the cups of commerce spilling over into stripping, lingerie, comic books, video games, mainstream film, mass market paperback books, and even kids’ cartoons and national beauty pageants.
This doesn’t begin to cover the topic of how breasts naturally change throughout a women’s life. Breasts change constantly through a woman’s monthly cycle. You could say that once puberty starts, the breasts never stop changing!
Add in to this ever-evolving metamorphosis the life cycles of pregnancy, breastfeeding, post-partum hormone craziness, weight gain, weight loss, menopause, and just getting older. The life of real breasts is tough physically, emotionally, and psychologically.
Could there be a shortage of real breasts in the next few decades? While scientists are looking for a cure for the common cold and AIDS, are they already working on a DNA breast augmentation injection so that future generations of girls won’t have to suffer the indignity of not measuring up to society’s demands for unnaturally shaped breasts?
I certainly hope not!
So then why do men buy porn? And skin mags? And go see strippers? I know men are viscerally oriented and generally lack imagination when it comes to getting off, but this is ridiculous.
And why the hell do men think women want lingerie as a gift?! All of these industries are run by men for men with women not being considered in the equation at all — except to feel like something is wrong if they’re a size A cup instead of FFF or their breasts hang naturally instead of defying the laws of gravity.
Why are men so desirous of seeing breasts bigger and bigger and in completely unnatural formations and perfectly, unnaturally symmetrical? How would men feel if they were expected to have their sensitive parts pushed up and in when these parts are supposed to be down, free, and maybe slightly uneven?
Whether temporary pushing up of the breasts via a bra or permanent cleavage due to manipulated implants, society not only accepts but expects this violation against women’s biology. In fact, when women’s breasts do not meet the porn/skin mag fake implant standard, the real, living, breathing, feeling, natural, un-airbrushed women are made to feel as if something is wrong with them — that their bodies are somehow misshapen or ugly if their breasts do not match society’s porn-induced standard.
Breasts come in many different sizes, shapes, and colors. Before passing judgment on a woman’s body that will make her feel less than human, think of other females you know — your sister or your daughter, even your mother. Would you want someone else to make them feel less than worthy as a human being just because of the way their body is naturally?
Then don’t pass the socio-cultural brainwashing on by passing judgment on your girlfriend or wife. And stop supporting the very industries that propagate the brainwashing. Stop buying porn and skin mags and comic books. Start buying erotica directed by women and starring natural women. Buy books about women written by women, or subscribe to sites that feature natural women being naturally sexy.
Better yet, get off the computer and go hug your woman.
Toenails confound me. Perhaps toenails once served a purpose as claws when we wore loincloths and had to fend for ourselves in hand-to-hand combat. Or maybe they helped us climb hills to plan an attack on a mammoth or run up a tree fleeing a saber tooth tiger. Toenails have outlived their usefulness in the 21st century, as have the Appendix or the bones of the coccyx that recall our once fluffy mammalian tail.
Genital hair is just as useless in my opinion. Oh, sure, some say genital hair acts as a cushion during mating, and scientists say genital hair’s original purpose was to absorb the pheromones of a lover, their scent lingering long after he or she had left the coital splendor. Absorbing scent is the main reason I don’t care for the au naturel hairy-mammoth-between-the-legs look. Though I have other reasons as well…
After the BP oil spill in 2010, people around the world donated their luscious locks (from their head) to be woven together into absorbent mats and dropped on the affected Gulf. Hair was reportedly the best material for absorbing the oil. Soaking up moisture is another reason I shave.
I read an article recently that claimed over 60% of women under the age of 40 in the U.S. shave some or all of their genital hair. It seems that the 20-somethings shave the most, around 80% of them, while women in the 40 to 60 age range are slowly increasing their numbers in the bare-down-there department — perhaps coinciding with the rise in cougardom? Older women looking for younger men who’s tastes have been developed by what they’ve seen in porn?
For the longest time, I only shaved my labia and the sides of my mons veneris, maintaining a sufficient inverted triangle of fuzz as a testament to my adulthood. Seeing females with completely shaved genitals in porn and skin mags would kinda creep me out. It was as if they were targeting male viewers who preferred young females — very young females. The pre-pubescent look just wasn’t for me.
Only recently did I begin shaving it all as bare as a genetically-altered lab rat. In the shower late one night, I was tired and barely awake under the soothing hot water. But knowing I couldn’t tolerate a day of stubble, I hoisted my leg up onto the tub faucet and began shaving, and then — oops! — the razor slipped. My perfect triangle was now gouged. So I thought, why the hell not?! And I shaved myself completely bare for the first time ever. (This is in light of the fact that I haven’t shaved my thighs since I was 21. But my genitals get the razor treatment every night, and sometimes during the day.)
For a woman, the genital area is dark, damp, and humid. In Western society, women tend to be covered up under layers of clothing, underwear, and hosiery. Women’s genital hair absorbs a variety of moist substances including sweat, oils, vaginal fluids, urine, and blood.
The hair also absorbs the smells from being saturated with any combination of those fluids while maintaining a hot, humid 98.6 degree body temperature. It’s no wonder men think women smell like fish! (Though the fishy smell is usually a sign of a bacterial problem that needs attention.) Even gynecologists have begun recommending women shave at least the labia to lessen the chance of bacteria hanging out in the bush(es) and making its way into the vagina, possibly causing any number of issues from bacterial vaginosis to chronic pelvic inflammation disease.
I readily admit that shaving the genitals is a form of body modification, as is a woman shaving her legs and armpits, or a man shaving stubble from his face or waxing his back. Any kind of grooming can be seen as “changing the body,” from wearing make-up or painting your nails to getting your cranial locks trimmed and styled. Wearing deodorant could even be viewed as body modification!
While certain forms of body modification are simply barbaric, such as male circumcision and female genital mutilation, I have no qualms asking a partner to shave his or her nether-regions. Why? #1 – The person decides if he or she will shave their genitals, and #2 – The hair will grow back. Therefore, asking a partner to shave or “manscape” is perfectly acceptable. Why? #1 – The person maintained his/her freedoms of choice and will, and #2 – Shaving is not a permanent change.
I remember very clearly the first time I shaved “down under.” The tub drain clogged up. I dreaded the thought of calling a plumber and having to explain, as someone with long, flowing tresses, where all that short hair came from.
I also remember the moment I actually told someone why I shave. It was after one of our weekend-long theatre orgies, and a friend and I were making the bed before we had to leave for rehearsal. She said something that prompted me to respond, quite matter-of-factly, “I started shaving because I got tired of getting the hairs caught between my fingers when I masturbated.” (This might have been the first time I actually said the word “masturbated” out loud.) My friend, who was shockless, seemed amused (and shocked). And yet, the gleam in her eye told me she totally understood.
Another incident or two led me to “require” the shaving of my partners. Though you’re not likely to see a hairy penis in porn, some men do have hair along the shaft, and yes, I prefer that shaved as well. I have mad skills in the oral pleasure department, thank you very much, and my main issue with male genital hair is that I love sucking testicles. Shaved testicles have the mouth feel of sucking on peeled grapes. An intriguing texture, to be sure.
Then there’s the hair around the anus and trapped up along the butt crack. Put your nose in that area of someone’s backside if you can’t imagine the smells those genital hairs absorb!
Shaving makes me feel so much cleaner and healthier. In fact, as I like to say, “My cunt’s so clean you could eat off it.”
Because I work at home, I have the luxury of washing off after I go to the bathroom. I know I can put my hand between my legs any time and love the smell on my fingers because the only scent that’s there is my true essence from deep with me.
So I completely respect a person’s right not to change his or her body by shaving. However, my potential partner will have to respect that I’m not going to gag on pubes or unpleasant aromas from their nether-regions. (And really, who would turn down sex over this anyway?) So shave or move along.
Aroused and squeaky clean,
In The Jungle Book, Rudyard Kipling’s loveable bear, Baloo, doesn’t want much out of life. He prefers a simple, uncluttered, unfettered existence. In the Disney film version, Baloo sings a fanciful tune about “The Bare Necessities.” This prompted me to write about what I like from a sexual union, a night of ecstasy, and the promise of wanton desires fulfilled. (With all the hooplah about what people are supposed to do to “create” a romantic evening — what we should wear, what we should say, what techniques we should know, what doo-dads, gizmos, and whizbangs should be at the ready — I simply must offer my two cents.)
In “The Bare Necessities,” Terry Gilkyson’s lyrics go like this:
Look for the bare necessities
The simple bare necessities
Forget about your worries and your strife
I mean the bare necessities
Old mother nature’s recipes
That bring the bare necessities of life.
I want the bare necessities when it comes to sex. No pretense. No acting out a scene from a movie. No bullshit. Just being a real person with another real person enjoying a real moment together.
What does this mean?
I hate lingerie. I don’t want rose petals on the bed. No candles. I don’t want a steak dinner beforehand. I don’t drink. I can’t stand perfume or cologne. I despise “romantic” music. I refuse to “talk dirty.” I won’t play “dress-up.” I don’t do S&M (or bondage or dominatrix/submissive crap). I don’t like kink.
I’m fat. Why kill perfectly innocent flowers? Can you say “fire hazard?” Who wants to fuck on a full stomach? Alcohol tastes gross. Allergies. Cheezy city! Don’t bring your porn fantasies to me. I do theatre for a living. Solve your “mommy issues” on your own time. It’s weird.
Now that that’s all clear… here’s the reason. I don’t want my partner focused on all the peripheral “stuff” when he or she should be focused on me. And likewise, I don’t want to be in a panic trying to get everything ready. Again, dealing with “set dressing,” lighting, and sound is what we theatre pros call a “tech rehearsal” or a “hang and focus” in the theatre biz. I certainly don’t want to do that when I’m supposed to be getting aroused, anticipating the events to come.
Mainly, I don’t want to feel like I’m putting on an act, pretending to be something I’m not (more theatre). I want to walk into the room naked, body flaws and all, and that be okay because my partner sees me, the person I am, my heart, my soul, my being, instead of all the ways I don’t meet the American standard of beauty. My mind should be filled with a million thoughts of how I can touch him — not wishing I could afford lipo.
So here’s the recipe for having sex with me:
- Don’t be a moron. (I’m afraid I must insist on this.)
- Be prepared to be naked immediately. I don’t do bullshit / tease / “foreplay” on the couch. We’re heading to the bedroom post haste.
- The lights will be low and minimal, but definitely enough light to see everything. And I mean, everything.
- Speaking of seeing everything, make sure you shave your balls — and wash your ass crack.
- The music will be a meditation CD of my choosing. Get over it.
- The sex starts with talking for an hour or longer…
(Okay, I know I just lost the male audience, but “bare” with me.)… If I haven’t been with you before, how can I know what you like? Should I assume what you like based on what my last partner liked? Or the guy before him? Do you really want me remembering them while I’m with you? Didn’t think so. So start gabbing. Of course, we can touch, silly. Did you think we would only talk? If that’s the case, then let’s braid our hair and do our nails!
Why spend so much time on talking and experimental touching? If you’re familiar with the concept of positive and negative poles of the body, then you’d know a woman’s breasts (in line with her heart chakra) are the positive pole and the true entryway to the vagina (her sex chakra). For a man, his positive pole is the penis (no pun intended) which is his sex chakra that leads to his awakening in his chest (his heart chakra). It seems the old adage really is true, the way to a man’s heart is through his penis, and the way to a woman’s vagina is through her heart.
Do I have favorite positions? Of course. The Kama Sutra, Tantra, the Tao, and Kundalini teachings are filled with ideas for sexual awakening, soul connection, and heart chakra fulfillment. That doesn’t mean they’ll work with you. Or vice versa.
A shorter penis works well for women on top, a longer penis is great for side-behind. A curved penis is great for She Spot stimulation like having one leg over his shoulder (Splitting the Bamboo) position. Breast worship is a prerequisite to yoni massage or any genital yoga. Lingam massage and oral ecstasy are two of my specialties. Then there’s one I named the Reverse Rockingchair. (Don’t ask what it is. There’s only one way you’ll ever know what it entails.)
Seriously, though, communication is vital to the partnership, whether it’s for one night or a lifetime. If all you want is the quick screw, then you’ve definitely come to the wrong place. I expect this to go for hours, and while I suspect there will be orgasms a-plenty, I’d rather have a connection with another human being than a race to the finish. After all, I don’t need a man for orgasms — I do that amazingly well on my own, thank you very much.
Therein lies the problem. I don’t need a man. I want a man. I don’t need sex. I want sex. There is a difference. I don’t need a man in my life to take out the trash, mow the lawn, change the brakes, or fix the leaky sink. I can hire tradesmen to handle repairs around the house or on the car. As a 21st century post-feminism empowered woman, I don’t look to a man to fill “necessary” roles the way 19th century women needed men to be able to accomplish certain tasks for the upkeep of the farm or homestead.
I don’t “perform” in bed (more theatre intrusion). I don’t want you to have “performance anxiety” either. I want to sit together, and touch, and kiss, and experiment. I want to caress, and nibble, and coax, and cherish you. And I want you to want the same of me, for me, and with me.
I realize that by asking for something so simple and “deconstructed” I’m asking for quite a lot. I’m asking you to leave your ego at the door, along with your preconceived notions about what I want or how I want it. I’m asking you to give up your innate goal-oriented competitiveness, the ingrained score-keeper, and the death-grip on your self-worth and masculine identity. I’m asking you to give up the enculturation of patriarchal propaganda. I’m asking you to just… be.
I know exactly what I want and how I want it. I can tell you, and I can show you. All you have to do is pay attention. Ask questions. But to do that, you have to focus on me, the real me, and not keep a running tally in your head, comparing me to the other women you’ve been with. Be here. Now. Be in the moment. Be egoless. Nothingness. Non-attachment. Just feel. Be.
I like my sex simple — bare — stripped of the illusions put forth by Cosmo sex quizzes and Victoria’s Secret catalogues and the myths perpetuated by porn and skin mags. Sex should be a spirit connection not just mutual masturbation. Otherwise the orgasms will only be physical. And I’m not interested in that. Make me fly — fly upward above the earth, across the universe, through the veil, and let’s bask in the energy of cosmic orgasm and our union with the cosmos.
That’s not asking too much…
Aroused and baring all,