i'm just a girl in the world

I've been struggling with this essay for a couple of weeks now. It's very personal, very long, and I have yet to reach a conclusion on what direction to take. It really is all about being stuck in the middle. So here goes...

It's International Women's Day. For the record:

1909

In accordance with a declaration by the Socialist Party of America, the first National Woman's Day was observed across the United States on 28 February. Women continued to celebrate it on the last Sunday of that month through 1913.

The Socialist Party! That pretty much sets the tone right there... So without further ado, let's talk about sex.

I am at an age of transition now, leaving my roaring twenties and hitting the Great Depression of my thirties. I often write on this blog about what I was, what I did, where I've been. My life is all past-tense. Where am I going, and how does my sexuality fit into that? David Warren wrote this week in an article entitled Modesty:

Am I perhaps a little odd in finding modestly-dressed women attractive? It is hard to tell how odd, for men seldom discuss such things among ourselves. In moments, I’ve suspected this is our best-kept secret -- that we don’t actually like women to be dressed or to behave as tarts. (Not just the clothing, but the vocabulary and demeanour.)

This stirred a lot of emotions and questions in me. I know that as a married woman of thirty, I can no longer count on playing Scarlett O'Hara anymore as a means of dealing with the opposite sex. I do not want to grow into one of those women that people laugh at, as they try too hard to hold onto the raw sexuality of youth. I used my sex in exactly the way that Warren decries in his article, and it worked for me. So where does that leave me? Am I dead? I hope not! I refuse to think that just because I hit a certain stage of my life, I should be relegated to the sidelines while the young whippersnappers have their day. I enjoy the company of men - smart, good-looking, funny, real men. I enjoy being led into temptation, even if I never reach the destination. I have always been a flirt (ask my husband!), and probably always will be. I admit, I have traded my leather corset for a silk blouse, and my dog collar for pearls, but those are just outward accessories. I am still the same Wendy inside: running round with the boys, drinking, telling bawdy stories, and making you wonder if I'm sleeping with your husbands (the answer, by the way, is...).

My... um... vivaciousness (for lack of a better word) leaves me in a political quandry. The radical feminists of the left want species that is androgynous, where the men are women and the women are men (and the cowboys are gay). Am I as good as a man? Certainly. But as good as does not equal the same as. I can breastfeed and he can parallel park. He can do the heavy lifting, but I have the better eye for where he should put the sofa. I can express thoughts and feelings better than he can, but he doesn't let emotions cloud his judgement on important decisions. Men and women compliment each other. Am I as good as a man? Yes. But can I be as bad as one? Absolutely. Whether your belief lies with creationism, science, or the not-so-happy medium of intelligent design, there is no way you can argue that if we were all meant to be exactly the same and perform the exact same tasks, neither God nor science would have bothered to create two of us.

Yet on the right side of the political stratosphere, where I spend most of my time, things really aren't that much better for a girl like me. I read an article yesterday that called me a parasite because I do not have children, nor do I wish to have any. That is, unfortunately, a pretty common Christian response. People like the author of the article spout off about how I will oneday be sucking from the teat of social security that her precious children will be providing for me, since I will be too foolish to save for my own retirement. Wow. She makes a lot of arrogant assumptions, doesn't she? You fool - you really don't want me having babies just because I can. I admit, I do have all the obvious traits of a DINK (double income, no kids): career focussed, love to travel, like having nice things to play with. But before classifying me as a parasite, why don't you ask me why I won't be fulfilling the task of motherhood? I will tell you why: I would probably kill my babies. Violent, unhappy, emotional people do not make good parents. If I'm having a bad day, I can walk out of the house and leave the dog and cats to their own devices, but it's illegal and immoral to do it to a screeching toddler. I would go Susan Smith all over my kids. I would snap, and before I realized what was happening, they would be injured or worse. So out of a sense of responsibility to my hypothetical kids, I have chosen not to have them. Consider it my one great act of love and respect for them.

So that uppity broad (who knows what's best for parasites like me) is calling me names, and I've got Mark Steyn telling me that if I don't reproduce, Arabs will take over the world. Hey, that's an awful lot of responsibility! If my uterus doesn't hurry up and squeeze something out, I will die alone and penniless in a world dominated by Arabs.

The fanatical obsession with abortion on both sides is out of control. If you are a pro-choice feminist, you can argue all you like for safe and legal abortions, but it still shouldn't be so prevalent. They are (ab)using it as a form of birth control, and expecting others to pay for it. And if they carry a baby to term, they still expect others to pay for it (the father suddenly has a responsibility, where he previously didn't have a right, and don't get me started on welfare!!). Are there others out there - like me - who actually believe that "legal and rare" is not the worst case scenario, and that it is in fact a win-win situation?

Basically, I am asking the feminists to get their vaginas out of my face, and for the pro-lifers to put their dead-fetus dolls away. For the love of all you hold dear, both of you, stop making every election about abortion! There is more to running a country than poon-tang (unless you are Clinton).

If I'm on the left, I'm supposed to have lots of sex and abortions. If I'm on the right, I'm supposed to have lots of married sex and babies (to make up for all those abortions). Wow. Feminism has really helped, hasn't it? How many decades of "Equal Rights Now!!", and it all still comes down to my pussy. And it has left me more confliced than ever. The hard party lines on both sides of the divide serve to show me that I have no home on either side. I am neither a man-hater nor a baby machine. The very thing I love most about myself - my sexuality - is the thing that both sides will use to tear me apart.

To the mothers of the right, I wish you well in your child-rearing. I hope you want and love every child that you bear, and I commend you for taking on such a huge, difficult and important job. Now please keep your baby pictures to yourselves. Those of us without the mothering gene (not to be confused with those who want babies but can't have them) are not interested. Nothing personal, but people like me just don't feel it.

And to the feminists, thank you for giving me the right to vote: I have used it to vote against you. Thank you for raising my salary: I use the money to tithe at my church, save for my own retirement, and support political causes that are markedly different from yours. Now that I can vote and spend, I will handle all the rest of the decisions on my own, thanks. You may go now.

It's International Women's Day: Go read Kate O'Beine's Women Who Make the World Worse. It'll make you think.

Posted by RightGirl at March 8, 2006 05:23 PM