Posts Tagged ‘Womanhood’

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Lets talk about masturbation

Wednesday, March 10th, 2010

The formative teenage years for an average girl involves slumber parties. Lots of slumber parties. Slumber parties consist of junk food, secret-girls-business and truth and dare.

I never performed a dare in truth and dare. Ever. There was no need and no point. My face is incapable of hiding strong emotion, and I always considered myself an open book. I chose ‘truth’ every time, and I told to truth too. I answered every question faithfully bar one, which was invariably delivered with an embarrassed blush and giggle; “Have you ever masturbated?”

‘No. Unequivocally, absolutely not!’ Would be my response, except in teenage language, which would probably sound more like ‘Yeah sure! Like I would do that – it’s gross!’ Because it was acceptable to steal alcohol from your parents, spread rumours at school, have sex, smoke pot or have a crush on your friends brother, but definitely not ok to touch yourself.

We had all suffered through ‘the talk’ with our mothers and sex education at school. ‘Sex education’ would probably best be re-named harm-minimisation for sexual trauma and dysfunction for all of the warnings and fear-mongering that goes on. We learned exclusively of the risks and negative outcomes/aspects of sex; teenage pregnancy, STIs, rape, regret. Dolly doctor clearly explained things like discomfort during first time sex and feelings of inadequacy during intercourse. So all in all sex in our minds was devoid of pleasure though we were convinced that it would get better.

Pleasure or no, sex was still high on the ‘to-do’ list. It was a mark or maturity, status, fearlessness. We wanted to ‘get it over with’ since we all agreed it was ‘backwards’ to wait until we were married to lose our virginities.

In the end our initial sexual experiences were everything Dolly doctor and out sex-ed teachers had attempted to prevent. A number of studies have shown why; We were never taught about pleasure, sexual curiosity, foreplay, erotica. No body encouraged us to masturbate it was seen as dirty and slutty, where as male masturbation was seen as normal. The tiny proportion of girls who were initiated into the positive aspects of their sexuality are more likely to have safe sex and enjoy the experience, as opposed to the other 75% who felt pressured or rushed into physical intimacy.

As we matured into adult women with healthy sex lives masturbation is more acceptable, as is erotica. Yet is it still more widely acceptable for men to masturbate than women. And certainly it is still taboo for young women to touch themselves.

With further studies showing that for the most part teenagers use contraception as faithfully as adults and have sex most often in loving relationships, why are we still teaching our young women about the dangers to the exclusion of the pleasures. Wouldn’t we as women (mothers, mentors, aunties, big sisters, friends) do well to teach our teenage sisters the power of their bodies, its capacity for pleasure and that their desire is healthy? It certainly would have changed my life.

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The price of motherhood

Sunday, March 7th, 2010

I didn’t realise how many erroneous beliefs I had absorbed about motherhood until I had my son. Then suddenly all I felt was guilty for all the things I assumed I was doing ‘wrong’. I felt horribly sub par as a mother every time the baby cried. Every time I winced audibly when he attached to my breast, I felt a failure, despite the fact that my nipples were irritated by a cotton bra only days earlier. Somehow, despite knowing better, I was  convinced being hurt my feeding my child was wrong.

Shorty after a baby is delivered (which is a misnomer too, by the way) the hoards of guests arrived. The good ones made the visit short and sweet, offering assistance, but I felt obliged to politely decline any help feeling I ’should’ be able to breastfeed around the clock and and keep the house in order. Then came the questions of whether he was a ‘good sleeper’ and the implication that if he was I was, by extension, a good mother. Unfortunately, for the first 8 weeks before I began co-sleeping, my baby was a terrible sleeper.

As he settled and I felt like I had moved on from drowning in nappies, breast-pads and sleep that came in 40 minute stretches, the ‘wrongs’ increased. I was wrong to co-sleep, wrong to feed on demand, wrong to rock my baby to sleep, wrong to respond to his cries immediately, wrong to fall asleep mid breastfeed despite not physically being able to keep my eyes open and wrong to drink coffee. And all this in the first 3 months.

I felt I should instantly know what the baby needed, immediately respond putting his needs first without a second thought. Bliss, happy cuddles, contentment and ease where the fantasy I had come to expect when the reality was was filled more with resentment, frustration, guilt and exhaustion. And that was a good day. There were times when I put the baby on the floor for his requisite ‘tummy time’ and rushed quickly from the room to slam doors, punch pillows and cry burning tears of furious frustration. Others where I thrust the baby into his father’s arms and balled myself up sobbing from failure. The days were many where I barely hugged my partner because the idea of touching another person for another minute drove me beyond breaking point. Who knew one could be ‘touched out’?

I relish motherhood. Genuinely so. But I also ball my hands into fists and screech at my toddler when, after a sleepless night he will do nothing but grizzle ‘mummy’. (When you child says ‘mama’ for the first time you never expect to cringe at the word a year later). Just 5 minutes to myself will make all the difference, I tell myself while he clings to my leg as a try to make a cup of tea. And the times you awake without a child beside you and, for the most fleeting moment, forget that you are a parent – only to remember a moment later; it hurts to feel a twinge of sadness with the happiness.

I love my son more than words can say. I love watching him grow and learn. I feel privileged when he brings his bumped knee to me to kiss better and every time he cries it is a dagger through my heart. But without the darker side of motherhood these moments wouldn’t be as meaningful. The potential our children have to stretch us to breaking point is born out of our pure love for them. Our total dedication. Dedication that comes at a price. Unless we openly discuss the price of motherhood in the same breath as the rewards of motherhood, I feel, we devalue ourselves as women and as mothers.

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Posted in Femininity, Grace, Motherhood, The unspoken, Womanhood | 1 Comment »

Lets talk about…Breasts (boobs, knockers, tits, jugs, fun-bags, globes)

Friday, February 26th, 2010

I have never much been ashamed of breasts. I come from a long line of well endowed women, so I have been comfortable with the idea of cleavage for as long as I can remember. Breast were normal.

In my final year of primary school I had the largest breasts in class. By far. I found them awkward, over sized and embarrassing. I didn’t know quite what to do with them, and felt uncomfortable in my bras. Breasts were mortifying.

In my teenage years I was known for my outrageously plunging necklines and I quite liked provoking reactions from boys my age, and relished the opportunity to lecture them on their sexist behavior should they look for too long or make a comment. Then, breasts were powerful.

When I settled into my relationship and began rediscovering sex as tender and romantic, my breasts had yet another role. They became lovely, sensitive, adored and an important part of our sex life. My breasts became feminine.

A few years later I fell pregnant. Other than the constant vomiting, one of my first signs of pregnancy was breasts so tender even my bra hurt. Throughout the pregnancy they grew and changed in shape, colour and even function. Before too long my breasts had become mammary glands.

When the beautiful baby boy finally arrived he almost instantly began rooting for a nipple. He came close to finding his father’s before he was placed in my arms. I was flabbergasted at the force with which he began to suckle and bemused by the process of organising the breast and baby correctly (yes there is such a thing, and it is tricky to achieve in the beginning). My breasts became a learning experience.

Five weeks later on my second trip to the early childcare nurse with my happy and settled newborn I was faced with a different prospect. “It isn’t a personal failing dear” she said, “it is just that god didn’t give you enough milk.” With instructions to buy formula as soon as possible, my breasts became a failure.

It turns out the nurse was wrong. My breasts became their ultimate purpose, nurturers.

18 months later my toddler still feeds a few times a day. Now he feeds for his immune system, to top up his nutrients, for comfort, for bonding and to soothe the busy toddler to sleep. Like the proverbial Swiss Army knife, the one tool has millions of uses. My breasts became utilitarian.

I would like to point out that as varied as my experience of my breasts has been my breasts have never been any of the following: lewd, inappropriate, dirty, obscene, pornographic, offensive, a problem or anybody else’s business.

I think it is time we reclaimed our breasts. Inherent to our femininity, as they are, they should be revered and respected. A woman accentuating the feminine curves of her body or feeding her child is as natural and normal as can be. If you disagree then the problem resides with YOU not breasts or the woman they belong to.

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Posted in Body Image, Femininity, Grace, Life, Motherhood, The unspoken, Womanhood | 2 Comments »

THE Wait

Wednesday, February 24th, 2010

I hate it. You probably do too. I think I hate the wait more than the requisite pissing on the stick. You know the wait I am talking about. It is the oh-god-I-think-my-life-might-change-in-a-millisecond-once-this-5-minute-wait-is-up wait. If you are a sexually active woman, you have probably experienced this wait at least once. I mean, no contraception is foolproof, right?

Patience really isn’t one of my virtues. Dealing with whatever happens, when it happens I’m great at. It is the damned limbo style wait between the ‘Hmmm something isn’t right here’ feeling and the little blue line appearing, or not, that I don’t cope well with. I find this wait utterly excruciating. I mean I only ever experience this wait IF:

  1. My period is absent
  2. I am feeling ‘off’ AND
  3. My body is doing something else weird like say making my breasts super tender or falling asleep in the middle of the day for no reason at all AND
  4. I have suffered the indignity squatting over the toilet trying to catch my suitably concentrated urine in a cup or on a teeny-tiny super absorbent strip

Worse than the list of crap that actually goes into making you consider the possibility that you might be pregnant (whether this is a shocking surprise or eagerly awaited news) your life flashes before your eyes in those 5 minutes in a way that the potential baby-daddy can never imagine. He doesn’t think about stretch marks and mentally say goodbye to his body ( a survey found that 86% of new mums felt more attractive before pregnancy than after), he doesn’t immediately panic about his career, cringe at the thousands of nappies he might have to change or lament the nights out he will miss and the alcohol he will have to abstain from. His life gets more complicated but, generally, also more respected. Other than the potential changes to his sex life (which I guarantee you he isn’t thinking about yet) he skips out on most of the sacrifice.

Being that I am one child down and one child to go in my childbearing plans, I expect that I will experience this wait again many a time. (A prospect I am only willing to face because I know how amazing motherhood can be.) To those who experience the dreaded wait only to find the test negative, my advice is to have a drink. Have a few actually to wash down the sushi and soft cheese you will be eating before you do something physical like paint-ball or rock-climbing, then have a great nights sleep and a sleep-in followed by a double espresso. You may not know it yet, but you will miss these when the line does go blue.

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Posted in Body Image, Femininity, Grace, Life, Motherhood, The unspoken, Womanhood | 1 Comment »

Lets talk about…Housework

Sunday, February 21st, 2010

Ironic that of all the unspoken ‘women’s business’ to discuss I begin with one of the backbones of the Feminine  Mystique. I can see the eyes roll – she thinks housework is more important to discuss than maternity leave?!? You may think that housework is not a real issue for women these days.  Well, the research says otherwise. Somehow housework as made it onto the list of things that aren’t discussed and our relationship to our domestic chores have gone largely unexamined.

Did you know that in a recent study women responded that 24% of all arguments with their live-in significant other are about housework? Did you know that multiple studies have shown that the level of love, affection and equitable division of household chores is the single best indicator of whether a committed woman will feel satisfied in her relationship?* And after 7 years of marriage those couples with high levels of egalitarianism also had high levels of sexual desire.**

So whilst housework itself might not be important, happy relationships and sexual fulfillment are. As corny as it sounds every new mother knows the easiest way into her pants is by doing the dishes and every smart man knows he has far more chance of a happy woman when he isn’t leaving his shit around and not lifting a finger to help. I am not saying that household chores need to be divided down the middle. I know a lot of households where that simply wouldn’t work. I also know a few women who, by choice or necessity, have help around the house. Ironically, justifying and accepting domestic help was difficult for these women (and not their partner’s).

I know the state of my house, be that immaculate or not, has a direct effect on how I feel about myself as a woman. Crazy I know, but it’s true. I will actually race around and tidy the baby’s toys when I get the call that surprise company will be arriving in 10 minutes, as opposed to putting on makeup. That doesn’t sound right to me, but I just can’t help it. I feel more affection for my partner when he is tidying the kitchen or ironing (and that isn’t just because I ruin everything I iron).

I am not advocating any particular arrangement or judging how anybody keeps their house in order (or not). I just think it is about time that we put housework back on the agenda. So, what is your domestic experience? How have you tackled housework in your life? Do your domestic duties hold you back? Do you feel judged by the state of your house? Are you happily house-proud? Do you judge your girlfriends by how tidy their place is when you drop over? I would love to hear your thoughts.

* ** Sexual Satisfaction in Committed Relationships

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The laundry list of unspoken topics

Thursday, February 18th, 2010

By nature these experiences fly in the face of the accepted bounds of womanhood. They aren’t expected of the innocent maiden, the loving wife or the nurturing mother. And let’s face it, society at large still has some difficulty dealing with femininity outside of those roles. These experiences have often been ascribed to the ‘undesirable’ facets of womanhood; the unmarried, the lecherous, the wild and the mysteries of our reproductive organs. In reality making these experiences taboo or unspoken is destructive, riddling our female psyche with guilt, shame, inadequacy and fear.

So in the interest of catharsis, inspired by a few honest and relieving conversations recently with my girlfriends, here are some experiences I think belong in a guide-book for women;

  1. Foreplay isn’t optional.
  2. Masturbation isn’t wrong. Getting to know what feels good is incredibly important.
  3. Using a vibrator too often can actually desensitise you to orgasm with a real penis.
  4. Watching porn isn’t just for guys. Well maybe porn is, erotica isn’t.
  5. Despite the foreplay and knowing what feels good, sometimes your juices simply wont flow. And that’s ok.
  6. You may hate your period, but trust me you will miss it when it is gone.
  7. Breasts can leak. And not only when you are pregnant or breastfeeding.
  8. Rape is never, ever your fault.
  9. Your body and emotions are intricately linked. Emotions (and the hormones they release) change your skin, hair, breasts, vagina and more.
  10. Many women get very amorous during their period.
  11. Just because you are in a relationship doesn’t mean you aren’t attracted to people other than your partner.
  12. As wild as your youth is, you probably wont regret it as you get older.
  13. Women have a ‘hens’ or ‘bachelotette’ party for a reason; it is scary to think of farewelling your singledom and loving only one person forever more.
  14. It takes work to keep the fire alive in a long-term relationship.
  15. Labour can be a sensual experience, some woman reach orgasm giving birth.
  16. Labour involves blood, a number of people looking closely at and physically inspecting your vagina.
  17. Motherhood doesn’t automatically bestow infinite patience.
  18. Bonding isn’t instant. It is a process. Postnatal depression isn’t a choice or your fault.
  19. Breastfeeding isn’t always easy and bottle-feeding isn’t wrong.
  20. Breastfeeding in public is simply feeding a child. Nothing more, nothing less.
  21. Sometime mothers resent, dislike and tire of their children.
  22. Sometimes mothers love one child more than the other/s.
  23. It isn’t easy to consistently put the needs of a child before your own. At times it is soul crushing and gut wrenching.
  24. Peri-menopause typically lasts 7 to 10 years. So can post-menopause. It can be a 15 year ride ladies!
  25. Menopause is supposedly the single day where you haven’t had a period of 12 months.  Sometimes your cycle will resume even after a break of more than a year.
  26. Menopause can actually cause ’shrinkage’ of the vulvar and vagina, which can lead to painful sex.
  27. The first thing the Dr will ask you when you go to see them about menopause is “tell me about your mother’s experience…” So… go talk to your Mum!
  28. After Menopause your vagina is considered a ‘use it or lose it’ situation. Sex increases blood flow to the area and keeps your vagina healthy, and boots your immune system.

So what have I forgotten? What do you wish was talked about before you discovered it the hard way?? I would love to hear your experience.

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Posted in Femininity, Grace, Life, Motherhood, Personal Development, Relationships, The unspoken, Womanhood | 4 Comments »

Unspoken

Tuesday, February 16th, 2010

There are a number of things that we, as women, were never really told. The list of things we don’t discuss is longer still. Some relatively universal experiences (that could easily be compiled into a handbook if you are looking for a business idea) are thrust upon us without so much as a warning. Worse still is that there is no clear lifeline to help us understand what we experienced or how we feel. Any woman over 15 knows, to some degree, what I am talking about. Every woman struggles with some aspect of her womanly experience until she is about to burst and finally confides in a girlfriend, who opposed to being outraged, relates to her experience with great relief.

This phenomena is all around us for one reason. Nobody is talking about the things that actually affect women on a daily basis.

We discuss paid maternity leave (which I support by the way) as though it will, upon implementation, magically make motherhood valued in society. We discuss equal pay in the workforce as though a woman in her child bearing years is hired as easily as a fertile man. We discuss the new models of marriage, where the man knows how to turn on the vacuum, as though such changes magically help us deal with the daily grind of partnership. They don’t. They won’t. And for the most part these grand ideals and overarching themes don’t effect us nearly as much as knowing how to have a proper discussion with your partner about money. Or sex.

On the subject of sex, why is it that once taboo sexual practices such as spanking (which rests firmly under the banner of BDSM by the way), are considered appropriate fodder for radio add campaigns, when taboos covering femininity are still firmly in place?

I for one am sick of bitching about it to my partner and friends. I am irreverent, but my heart is true and my skin sufficiently thick enough. Watch this space, because I will be speaking about the unspoken. I don’t mean to offend, I am just tired of my experience being classified as offensive.

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Posted in Femininity, Grace, Life, The unspoken, Womanhood | 1 Comment »

Three Reluctant Cinderellas

Friday, February 5th, 2010

I grew up very cynical about love, and men in general I guess. Marriage to me was an outdated institution that held no real meaning or value any more (I mean women can own property now and all). Most people exchange their ‘I do’s’ oblivious to the irony that family or familia originally meant ‘the totality of slaves belonging to any one man’. Without dredging up the old revolutionary rhetoric of my youth it suffices to say that a marriage certificate was never on my to do list.

It seems that about 6 months ago the world turned on it’s axis. And pigs flew. And hell froze over. Cupid took control and wreaked his special kind of havoc in our lives. Not just mine, but the lives of my best friends as well. Under cupid’s rule we were thrust into the center of a delicious kind of chaos that we each dreaded and relish at the same time; Love. Romantic love.

None of us are particularly sappy women. I would happily walk through the valley of death with these two women because I am confident that the three of us would be the baddest crew in the valley. None of us are untouched by tragedy or sacrifice. We don’t play the fool, the damsel or the victim and none of us ever believed the hallmark ideal or in happy endings. But it seems as though we will play Cinderella despite ourselves.

Six months ago I set a wedding date. No need for congratulations, I had already been engaged for over 3 years at that point, I just finally bit the bullet and decided to go through with it. Around the same time one of my best friends walked away from an AMAZING career and chose another path, which has led her though a whirlwind romance with a wonderful man. I mean she has been hired twice, sight unseen, on the strength of her resumé alone and yet has flourished despite her career being demoted in her list of priorities. And just last week my other BFF replaced her 10 year title as ‘Girlfriend’ with the shiny new one ‘Fiance’ despite never expecting to marry her wonderful beau.

I don’t know where cupid is going with all this, and I can’t speak for the others, but I hope that I manage to make my wedding something meaningful to me. Something that reflects my relationship with myself and my partner. I won’t be saying ‘I do’ but instead agreeing to kick his sorry ass when he needs a reality check and promising not to walk away when our ugliness comes out, which it inevitably will in a long-term relationship. I hope in those few minutes before we walk down the aisle (my friends are also bridesmaids, of course) that I don’t feel alien in my Ivory dress and my Cinderella moment, but instead feel the dawning of a new age; where fulfilled women choose evolved relationships with worthy men.

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Posted in Dreams, Femininity, Grace, Life, Relationships, Womanhood | 1 Comment »

Musings on Grace

Monday, January 18th, 2010

I firmly believe that it takes a village to raise a child. In a ‘village’ children grow up at the feet of elders, learning vital lessons. Adults in a ‘village’ mentor and teach adolescents, instructing them in the skills and knowledge that they will need to contribute to the village in adulthood. Sadly I feel that my generation grew up largely without that village. This is not a criticism of our for-mothers; they were focused on creating a society where we (as women) would be valued as equals. It is because of them that we have an opportunity now to instruct the daughters of our new ‘village’ in all the skills of an adult and not just half of them.

As a result of growing up without the village microcosm we are drastically short of role models we can aspire to emulate, again not because our mothers are not ‘role models’ but because our paths are likely to be very different to theirs. Young women are in search of mentors and are coming up short. The ‘self help’ genre is growing exponentially as women reach out for help, desperately craving guidance and support.

I am fortunate in that I have had the loving guidance of mentors throughout my journey thus far. There is no substitute for experience; lessons only become permanent when one has lived them and been transformed by the experience. But the transformation isn’t automatic, the generation of women who repeatedly turn to inappropriate relationships, emotional eating and ‘retail therapy’ are a testament to that. The disconnect is that the skills necessary to courageously face life, walk towards our dreams and learn from adversity were the ones we never learnt at the feet of our elders.

We identify women of grace that we wish to grow like, but lack the vocabulary to identify what it is about their person that we value. The closest words we have to describe what it is we want are; beauty, respect, success and charisma. So we blindly stumble in search of what we think will bring us these; physical ‘perfection’, celebrity and the adoration of men. But we have the cart before the horse. Celebrity (lasting celebrity and not infamy) and adoration are the by-products of a life lived gracefully with purpose.

The deceptive nature of grace is that it ‘appears’ effortless. It seems as though it is a gift bestowed at birth when it is an attitude and a set of skills. Grace is a carriage, a way of being, that has nothing to do with external beauty. Though a graceful woman does possess a ‘glow’ that is often mistaken for, or perceived as beauty. There are guidelines, tools and secrets that graceful women live by and demonstrate, that when applied to our lives, transform them as though they have been bewitched by a fairy godmother’s wand.

This year I am working on embodying grace a little more… what about you?

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Posted in Body Image, Femininity, Grace, Inspiration, Life, Womanhood | 1 Comment »

The damsel’s lesson

Wednesday, January 13th, 2010

I am the first to criticize the ridiculous  Hollywood view of romance and love. It is out of control and totally unrealistic. The idea that a woman needs a man to rescue her from a ‘loveless’ existence is insulting and dare I say it well-meaning.

Stories are powerful. Very powerful. And there is a reason we are re-telling the same stories now that were told hundreds of years ago.

Oral history was once the way we learned of the world. Parables and allegories have been guiding us since our childhood. Since humanities childhood. Some stories are so powerful that almost every culture has a variation of the same theme. Stories and the players in these stories are so ancient, so integral to our lives, that they have become archetypes that we unconsciously breathe life into every day.

The nursery rhymes of today were warnings of yester-year. The  fairy tales of our childhood once taught what it meant to be a man and a woman. The stories of the Princess marrying the Knight that rescued her have some merit. Hold on. Before you take off my head with one bite, let me remind you that I am a (albeit failed) feminist at heart. There are literally hundreds of versions of this story, but they all boil down to this; his ability to remain unfaltering in the face of obstacles freed her, and in return her love sets him free. That sounds rather equal and honouring to me.

The age old drama doesn’t sound quite so ridiculous any more does it? It sounds almost evolved to me…

Lets look closer. The man of the story invariably demonstrates equanimity. THE most attractive quality in a man. You may say you look for a man who can make you laugh, or someone who is honest with you, and maybe you are right. But I say you would pick the man who holds the ground solid beneath your feet so you can dance to the beat of your own drum over a goofball or the guy who tells you your bum really does look big in those pants, any day of the week. I know I did. Not sure? Check out this song and tell me if you would not be drawn in by this level of dedication.

The man in this story is tested and is proved to be worthy. He has demonstrated, beyond the shadow of a doubt that he honours the lady, by setting about the quest. He has proven to be strong and grounded by achieving the quest and he didn’t have time to visit the whorehouse when he was slaying dragons or vanquishing the witches, so it’s a safe bet that he is a one woman kinda guy.

As for the woman she is essentially feminine. No by that I don’t mean weak, or feeble or a victim. I mean that she is magnetic. The rescuer is drawn to her, not for her achievements or actions, but for who she is. She is allowing and gracious and loving. Her heart is the rescuers prize and her love soothes the battle weary warrior.

The story of the damsel in distress is important and powerful. It is a way our fore-mothers reach out to us instructing us to shine our true self forth and to test the men who are drawn to it. And their advice is when we do find a partner who is as strong as we want to be free, that we love him with all we have.

So, Hollywood may bastardise it and hide its worth beneath makeup, special effects and poor story lines, but we continue to be transfixed because the integrity of the tale remains.

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