I had planned to write a sequential history of my perceptions and feelings about sex. I published part 1 and made it to fifth grade. It is unbelievably difficult to put those middle and high school years down on paper. Too much trauma and confusion to sort through right now.
So I am skipping ahead to a current dilemma of mine. I place very strong judgments on the women I see daily and get very angry at times at what they choose to wear. I get crazy angry at the mothers of young girls who let them wear skimpy clothing. I get super angry at those restaurants that feature busty waitresses in tiny tops. I am nauseated that an “exotic dancing” club is in the mall lot, right next to Target and Kohl’s.
I didn’t realize how deep and strong this anger was until a few days ago. I’m still trying to sort it out. I drive past a billboard for “Tilted Kilts” that advertises itself as the best looking sports pub around. Another has this busty chick holding a tray of beer “Beer has never looked so good”. I want to scream. I hate it.
OK, so no one forced those girls to work there. But it makes me so angry that they do it. It just seems so cheap. Would you like anything else, or just another look at my cleavage? I don’t understand. Anyone I know would be so uncomfortable to eat there.
And yet, I have no problem with girls wearing even less at the beach. And the girls on So You Think You can Dance sure don’t wear much, and no anger there. So I know it isn’t exactly the outfit that bothers me, I guess it is the selling point. The lack of art. They are not dancing, they are selling beer. The difference in cheap thrills, porn and fine art. I don’t know.
I discovered about a year ago, that I had lost all my own femininity. I was hiding all my curves under baggy sweats, XL tshirts, and even often wore hubby’s clothes. Nothing cute, nothing frilly, and certainly nothing flirty. I did not actively choose that, I think it just sort of happened in my efforts to be invisible. I did not want anyone looking at me. I felt like nothing, and wanted to look like nothing.
I have some prettier clothes now that I adore wearing. I pay more attention to my hair and nails. I even have more than 1 pair of shoes now, though I still wear athletic sandals most days, as comfort always comes first. I bought lipstick for the first time since college. But I noticed it is so much easier to flirt with hubby when I think I look pretty. He never said he minded the boyish cover everything clothes, but I can sure tell he enjoys the curve-flattering styles much more! Now, I still dress quite modestly, especially compared to some of my friends. I just don’t feel right showing cleavage to the whole world, that’s just for hubby. I have some tops that hint at cleavage, which to me, is much sexier than letting it all hang out.
Now here’s where it gets difficult. If I wear something sexy or naughty at home, for hubby only, that I equate with those cheap waitress outfits, or worse, with strip clubs, can I respect myself? Does hubby really respect me? I think I do. I think he does.
And I think I answered my initial question then of where this anger comes from. I have no problem with the outfits, but with the girls sharing their goodies with the general public. And for tempting good men to think less of them. To then think less of all women. I guess I think until we no longer have women willing to sell their bodies, we will always have men ready to see them as objects and vice versa.
I grew up as an object, but it was not my choice. I just wonder how those girls convince themselves it is ok. And I fear that whatever monetary gain those waitresses have, will never make up for the loss of self-respect, even if they don’t know it yet.
I wonder how much my past will guide my future. I have not yet let my daughter wear a bikini, short shorts or skirts. Now we’re not extreme, but I dress her like a little girl, not like the current trends. I would also be uncomfortable letting her be a cheerleader. Our high school has extremely short skirts, with a side slit. No idea why they do this to our girls. And Dallas cheerleaders disgust me.
So there. That’s how I feel. Not right or wrong, but personally how I feel. I hate that I think less of those girls, but I do. And if I were trying to run really fast or catch a ball, I certainly would not want a bunch of buff shirtless men strutting around screaming. How are cheerleaders exactly helpful? Oh well, enough, I just don’t understand this world and why some women put themselves in lesser roles. Or what I perceive as lesser roles – maybe I’m too judgy here. Should I just lighten up? Am I the strange one that I feel embarrassed for these girls?