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You Ain't Gettin' None...

*Inspired by this right here and the all around awesomeness that is- Jacylyn Friedman.*
I deeply want to eradicate any language that describes sex as an act that is given by a woman to a man: Are you gonna let him hit? Should I give him some? She gave it up last night, dog. Rather, I should say I want to destroy the attitudes about sex that implicate it as anything less than an equal exchange between two consenting parties. If we didn’t look at sex as a woman “giving it up”, then I wouldn’t care less if a woman was inclined to say she “gave him some”. Because the implication would be that he gave her something, too.
I’ve gotten the same questions repeatedly from friends regarding my past casual sex partners (not necessarily the specific men in question, but the entire concept of a casual sex partner as a whole): “Does he really respect you?”, ” Are you f*cking or getting f*cked?”, “Why would you give it up to someone who doesn’t want to be with you?” My answers have remained consistent: “As much as I respect him, as far as I can see.”, “Nobody’s getting f*cked, we’re both having sex. We have an arrangement and it works.”, “I don’t want to be with him either and I want to have me some sex.”
I may mess around and use the word ‘f*cking’ interchangeably with the term ‘having sex’, but I abhor the concept. Ain’t nobody f*cking me. We are doing something together. Both of us. Adults. Interested in pleasing and being pleased. This goes for the otherwise platonic homeboy I might have had a tryst with, the fella that I found was not a match for me outside the bedroom, but a perfect fit in between the sheets and any man who I might be dating with the potential of a more emotionally significant relationship.
And what about the men? Well, as far as both my past casual sex partners and any past or present romantic interests go, I’ve never entertained anyone who showed any discernible lack of respect for me for any longer than it took me to identify said lack of respect. Have I dated or bedded any men who identified as feminists? No. There aren’t that many Black male self-identified feminists running the streets of Brooklyn, if you can believe it. Have I dealt with men who I would label as somewhat feminist or overtly pro-female in ideology and practice? Yes! And the older I get, the more of them I meet (Glory, glory, hallelujah! I might just find me a husband yet!).  So I haven’t been made to feel like anyone thought they were f*cking me or if I was just giving somebody some. It can’t be about giving and getting for me; we sharing something.
Because I have a naturally competitive nature in the bedroom and have always gotten a thrill from putting it down on someone (almost as much a thrill as I get from having a brother put it on me), I used to joke to myself and my girls: “He ain’t f*cking me, I’m f*cking HIM!” But I don’t even put that energy out there at all anymore. If we’re gonna do it it, lets be grownups. Let’s have some fun and respect each other as equals and be discreet and safe and level-headed about it. That’s the only way I can do it. Sex positive. Empowered to pleasure seek and pleasure give in the spirit of respect.

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