Not “Just the Tip”: A Clarion Call to Cavalier Men in the Anti-Abortion Age

“Let me just put the tip in for five seconds, I’m not going to bust that quickly.”

“I know my body.”

“My pull-out game is on point.”

These are words I have heard during sex from the mouths of men ranging in age from 28-44. Three different men trying to convince me that I should trust them enough to have unprotected sex with them. One of these men even stealthed me–if you are not familiar with stealthing it is the practice of a man taking a condom off mid-sex although their partner only consented to sex with the condom on.[1] This same man begged me to allow him to “just put the tip in,” then looked in my eyes and said, “What are you scared of getting pregnant?” I looked at him incredulously and said, “Why yes, yes I am scared of getting pregnant amongst other things, I have short-term goals that don’t include having a baby with you.” He laughed and persisted with his “just the tip” antics. These are three men within the last year and a half, a surprising number because they most likely represent a microcosm of the men who persuade women to have unprotected sex with them as if it is not a zero-sum game.

Incidents such as these have always been worth our attention as they reveal the cavalier nature of men who prefer condomless sex while ignoring the consequences of unprotected sex.[2]  It is worth our immediate attention and interrogation as women’s reproductive rights and bodily control are in danger now more than ever. I live in Georgia, a state that recently passed the heartbeat bill which bans abortion as early as six weeks into pregnancy. The above sexual encounters all happened in Georgia and, no disrespect to the men involved, I am pretty sure that if I were pregnant as a result of unprotected sex with them, they would not exactly rush to father their children. These are men who put pleasure before protection, believing at the moment that their condomless sex has no consequences or that the only consequence is pregnancy, forgetting sexually transmitted infections among other issues. These are men who, for all intents and purposes, have put themselves in the same seat of control and power that many women are fighting against in the larger reproductive rights war. In each of these intimate encounters, I was fighting for my reproductive rights by asking my partner to wear a condom, a fight that was often futile because some men love pleasure, power, and control more than they love women. Thus it makes me realize that the people who need the reproductive regulation and control are not women, but men, men such as those above who are so bold as to desire and beg for unprotected sex yet most likely would not exercise a similar boldness if they found out the child was theirs. Men who are also not on the frontlines fighting against the forces that want to control women’s bodies, because if they were to do so, they would acknowledge the ways in which they MUST relinquish their desire to control in the bedroom and outside of it.

I have always been cognizant of my body’s reproductive capacity and I have always been careful, particularly as a woman in protracted singleness who does not have a biological clock set for reproduction. At best I am ambivalent about having children, at worst I may not want them at all. But, if I ever bring a child into the world it will be because I decided to with another human being not because it was decided for me. The men mentioned above, their ilk, and the state–which includes both men and women, put my ability to decide and control for myself at stake while men remain free subjects. Most of us learned in Biology, Anatomy & Physiology, or Sex Education how reproduction works. Typically it involves two people with complementary organs that facilitate the process of reproduction, yet the heartbeat bill and other anti-abortion legislation only impinge upon the bodies of one population,  women, and not the men who constitute the necessary other half of the formula.[3] 

Where are the reproductive restrictions for men? Where are the laws that regulate and control penises the way my uterus is currently being controlled? Where is my protection from the cavalier men of the world who are begging just to put the tip in or who are convinced that their pullout game is strong? I understand I am responsible for exercising agency in choosing to engage with these men, but while I exist in a world that is, bit by bit, taking control of my body, I think we should start thinking about how to spread the regulation to control the uncontrollable male body. I am tired of men’s private(s) and public power going unchecked–because rest assured, there is a faction of the same men who exercise public power over women who are most likely exploiting their power over women in private. You do not become the type of person who is comfortable with controlling women’s bodies in the public sphere without being the type of person in the private sphere who wields similar insidious, abusive power–ask the Catholic Church. Anyways, back to the lecture at hand.

If, as it alleges in some anti-abortion bills, a woman who miscarries is in danger of committing a felony–even though she largely has no control of that–then shouldn’t we be reporting men and having them convicted in the court of law for that which they perceive themselves to have control of–their penises, the wearing of condoms, the flow of their semen, etc? I’m here for Georgia state representative Dar’Shun Kendrick’s “testicular bill of rights” that would include a ban on vasectomies, force men to obtain written permission from their sexual partners before getting a prescription for an erectile dysfunction medication, and make sex without a condom punishable under law as “aggravated assault.” Like Dar’Shun, I am not pushing an anti-male agenda, I am advocating for a human rights agenda that interrogates how regulating reproduction problematically defaults to women and reiterates the practice of controlling women’s bodies while allowing men to run recklessly free. I desire to bring men into the larger conversation about women’s reproductive rights since so many of them have so much to say during the sexual act that typically begets the reproductive act. I am interested in talking about how, if governing bodies are really concerned about life and possibility–which we all know is not their concern because no anti-abortion legislation includes increasing support for mothers via covered healthcare, childcare, etc.–they should actually pay more attention to men’s role in the reproductive process. I want men to hold themselves responsible by relinquishing their power to control and their desire for pleasure.

At the end of the day, I don’t want the state to control any of our bodies. I’m not interested in a both/and plan where women cannot have abortions and men cannot spill their semen. I want the preoccupation with and control of women’s bodies to end, but in the absence of that, I want men to take a critical look at their role in the process of reproduction. I want the same government that has so much to say about a woman’s womb to look at their fallible phalluses and make them a subject of the state in the same way my uterus is a subject and is now subject to the state of Georgia. I want them to acknowledge how the issue is not with women but it is with men, their desire to control and their abuse of power which goes from the bedroom to the bench–the Supreme Court bench where the heartbeat bills may edge us toward an overturning of Roe v. Wade which will throw women’s reproductive rights and personhood into infinite precarity, and efficiently take away women’s control of their own bodies.

What I want is for men, such as the three who inspired this essay, to recognize their role in women’s reproductive rights. The role does not start at the polls, it starts in private in instances such as I mentioned earlier. It starts by taking seriously the requests of women during sexual encounters. It then branches out to the way that you advocate for women in public spaces. It starts by believing and understanding that the war on women’s reproductive rights is about women but not just about women. The war ought to be fought not just by women but by men who are just as zealous about our vaginas in the streets as they are in the sheets.

[1] https://www.elitedaily.com/news/is-stealthing-illegal-how-guys-get-in-trouble/1892968

[2] I am intentionally using the language of “condomless sex” and “unprotected sex” because it occurs to me that the former is a euphemism for men whom see pleasure as a first end. When these men ask for or demand sex without a condom they imply that their pleasure not the possibility of procreation comes first. And though these men probably theoretically know the possible negative consequence of unprotected sex, they seem to suspend that knowledge for their pleasure even as their partner encourages otherwise.

[3] And it should go without saying that I am referring to reproduction through the sexual act not reproduction through insemination, in vitro fertilization, etc. Reproduction through the sexual act involves, ideally, two people who have entered the sexual event consensually and two people who are aware of the possible consequences of having sex which

At Home in Aloneness…

As I looked out the window to the ground being pounded by droplets of a downpour I thought to myself, “I can’t believe I’m here.” The world around me is moving swiftly. People’s relationships are evolving or shriveling up and dying and here I sit, in the same place I’ve always been, and it’s sort of unbelievable to me. As I watched the concrete grow slicker with each drop I tried to feel something different, but my heart wouldn’t budge. I conjured thoughts about people in love with one another, about sitting on a couch with someone doing the proverbial “Netflix and chill,” about having someone to share the end of my busy days with. I tried to conjure some sense of disappointment about not having that yet, about not having a prospect, about not even having the person who I know is a complete waste of my time but I persist because I figure it’s better than being alone. Amazingly I felt no sense of disappointment, no wistfulness for all I’m supposedly  missing at this moment in life. For the first time in a while, possibly in my young adult life, I’m romantically alone with nothing on the horizon, and I’m not scared of it.

For the first time in my life that I can fully sense, I am at peace with being alone. I’m 36 and single and I actually feel satisfied. Not in that cliché, “I can do bad all by myself,” way but in a rewarding, “There is richness, possibility, and hope in this space of aloneness.” This aloneness is not pejorative or stigmatizing for me. I don’t seek to be uprooted from it by busying myself with ways to not lean into this feeling. I’m not compelled to jump on a dating app to busy myself with “in the meantime” men. I am content. This takes me by surprise because for so long I’ve been compelled to mourn my singleness for every year that passes by and I remain so. But I’m 36 and single and I’m compelled to lean into this. I’m no longer willing to create a narrative for my singleness save for the one that tells the story of a woman who has chosen this for herself not as a lot I’ve settled on by circumstance but as a choice.

Just a few weeks ago a man asked me why I’m single given my beauty and intelligence and, initially, I regurgitated the script telling him, “Talk to your brethren.” But a moment later I said to him, “I’m sorry I take that back, it’s not on them, it’s on me. I haven’t found what I’m looking for and I lead a rich and fulfilling life that someone must be compelling enough to be a part of.” I’ve reached that sweet spot that Warshan Shire put words to when she wrote,

My alone feels so good, I’ll only have you if you’re sweeter than my solitude.

As I’m bombarded with engagement announcements, budding relationships, breakups stories, and dating app disasters, I stand still in this world where everyone is searching for someone while I am  finding myself and satisfaction in me. I have hit my own sweet spot, a place where I am building a sense of contentment not as a placeholder until someone else comes but as my home, my strong tower. I am cherishing what I have in this life in walking in a purpose, in my wonderful family and friends who are like family, and in a faith life that I am only beginning to discover the extraordinary riches of apart from anything I might gain from it. It is with slight incredulity that I occupy this space because I am not supposed to be here. The world wants me to mourn my singleness, the barrenness of my womb, the emptiness of my bed, the space between my fingers, the holes unfulfilled…But I am truly, finally, at peace with where I am in that perceived lack because I’ve found my fulfillment.

My aloneness, that presence, fullness, aliveness, joy of being, overflowing love is home. In this place I am complete. Nobody is needed, I am enough.[1]

 

[1] Inspired by the definition of aloneness by Pragito Dove, http://www.huffingtonpost.com/pragito-dove/loneliness-v-aloneness-wh_b_8032702.html

 

Haiti Doesn’t Need Our Hashtags…

In the wake of Hurricane Matthew’s landfall massive suffering has hit the country of Haiti. With a death toll of at least 800 people and the danger of a cholera outbreak, the country is in dire straits. This past week many of us sat and watched the coverage of the destruction from the comfort of our homes, some wondered where the Facebook filter is. The lack of response by Facebook, the empathy generator for most causes–except those that affect people of color–seems discouraging. Yet it seems like we, too, miss the mark by staying in the realm of praying and sharing stories and our discontent about the lack of filters, hashtags, and other social media symbols of empathy and solidarity.

Empathy is necessary but insufficient.

This is a message I received from a professor last week who, while talking about the way white people respond to the systemic oppression and violence against Black people, stated that she wasn’t interested in empathy but in policy and structural changes. For her, the expression of empathy and the corresponding affect is only a starting point, it can’t stop there. In the same way, as I watch people voice their concern about the lack of Facebook filters and hashtags or saying “Pray for ____.” I wonder if we’ve become comfortable in these type of responses to tragedy.  “Pray for ‘X'” seems to serve as a kind of script that facilitates the performance of empathy and solidarity but does no actual work. It’s time to stop praying with words, sending our petitions out through social media and up to God and start praying with our feet. We’ve been praying for a longtime about a number of things and this isn’t to dismiss the efficacy of prayer or the power of God, but it isn’t sufficient of itself anymore either. God placed us here on earth to be actors in the world, to do more than throw our hopes for healing, restoration, and liberation back at God or project it onto to anyone else. It’s time to become actors who shift things more with deeds than words. We also need to move away from waiting from the great “them” to stand in solidarity for us.

We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.

It is time to stop putting our hope in systems and people that aren’t interested in consistently supporting us. I think we do ourselves a great disservice by waiting for “them” to care about us when we already care about us. Self-determination and empowerment is important in this season and it’s time for us to stop looking outside of ourselves for recognition when we already recognize and know what is necessary. We have to move beyond chastising people for not coming through for us. We need to come through for us and spread the information about how we can wisely and tangibly help.

Our cries for hashtags may be affective for us but not effective for the people we are allegedly advocating for, and this is a problem. Those affected by Hurricane Matthew in Haiti, Cuba, and the Bahamas will not see our filters, they cannot eat our hashtags, there will experience no consolation from our efforts to gain them solidarity on social media all the while neglecting their immediate needs. They won’t care who didn’t see their struggle and how we fought to get people to recognize them, they will care about who took the time to respond, who moved on what they knew to be right, true, and just.

And with that, I conclude with a compilation of some of the sources I have shared through my social media pages:

Help Haitians, Not Disaster Capitalists (Includes a good list of Haitian-led and international NGOs)

How to Help the Victims of Hurricane Matthew

Hurricane Matthew: How You Can Help the Victims (I recommend CARE as well as Catholic Relief Services)

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