Getting off is the most easily defensible act ever. Yet, absurdly, on a semi-regular basis, I find myself in a position where I feel the need to explain myself, as if something as fundamentally magnificent as the desire to get off requires any explanation. It is self-explanatory—so much so that it explains away other related and undesirable behavior. But in this mad, mad world, when a girl recounts a sexual experience, people judge her intent instead of taking it for granted. It is assumed that she would not engage in sex simply for the sake of sex, so when she does something that looks very much like that, her motives are questioned and her psyche is considered fair game for prodding. People are so insistent in their belief of a hidden agenda. As if our acts are a cover for something far more sinister—a surefire sign of weakness in character or coquettish manipulation.
Socially deviant behavior is not understood in terms of the society in which it is enacted and its biological underpinnings. A divergence from social norms is considered the result of a personal deficiency, one that is so deeply rooted that the woman herself is assumed to be unaware of the causes and effects of her behavior—the reasons for which she makes her decisions and the social consequences that are to come. Women are not free agents in their sexual decision making processes—they do not have goals and get what they want. They are manipulated, taken advantage of. The “liberated” ones are victimize themselves under the guise of self-sufficiency and utility. Objectify themselves to appeal to men, men who have no respect for them. Women doll themselves up to give guys what they want, because what value would women have without the approval of the valued sex? We are mere instruments of the internalization of dominant ideals. In this power play, we are ultimately the losers and the joke is on us. How could a man possibly respect a woman who is in it for the same reasons he is, is on the same level, is a threat because she has needs independent of his? Men have us so tied down, that they have turned us into our own captors.
As if we have to dignify our behavior with more elaborate, albeit convoluted, explanations—freed from our primitive animal roots, which remind us of our mortality. This is sexual perversity at its best. Sexual women are not to be trusted. I mean, why would someone get off for the sake of getting off, anyway? What is masturbation even for? And other unanswerable questions. Do we really feel so pathetic, powerless, and insignificant as humans that we have to invent God and invent complex justifications for simple biological functions that have been working out quite nicely for all parties concerned since the beginning of human existence.
The point is most often missed. In reality, we girls are pretty simple creatures. As simple as the simple beauty that is simply getting off. And it is, most likely, nothing more than that—nothing more needs to be read into the situation. It can be taken for face-value.
And thus is the inspiration for my blog.
A sexual experience that I would like to reveal, but about which people would get the wrong idea. Or rather, they would get the wrong idea about me. But they would be missing that it isn’t about me—it says nothing about me as a person. It is about the act. What gets me off. And the fact that I do what gets me off sometimes irrespective of the consequences and complications. People read the consequences as the primary reality. They use a perverted order to go about the question—reason that what I get out of it must be why I do it. Obviously. But I get something else out of it: the sex. And the getting off following the sex. Because half the point of sex is having something to get off to afterwards. I don’t even care that it’s good. I just care that it makes the guy more salient and tangible and therefore I can fantasize about the situation in a more detailed and concrete manner. See also: reasons why girls hang out with cute guys for whom they have no respect as people. The questions all lead to the same fact of the matter. The sexual utility. And this is what people seem to be missing.