I’ve never claimed to be sexy, I know I’m pretty I’m confident enough in that. But sexy, well that’s never quite fit into my description of myself. That is until recently, when I realized I’ve become sexualized by most of the women I meet.
Yes sexualization is alive even among lesbians. It took me saying one thing in a conversation with someone to realize it. I’m not going to say flirting isn’t fun and that consenting adults shouldn’t hook up — I’m not a prude. What I am talking about is when you talk to the person and you ask each other all the usual questions, but that person can’t remember a single one. All they want to do upon meeting you is stare at your chest or make comments about your ass.
Sexual comments are nice, if that’s all you’re looking for, but being seen as just that… well, it kinda sucks. Every part of me wants to scream. ‘I’m up here! My eyes are here!” “Did you even hear what I said about loving Bukowski’s work or that I aspire to be published!” I’m a brain, not just a pair of tits, isn’t something I should have to reassure myself about. It seems like my chest does the talking and I’m expected to laugh and smile at the appropriate points.
I feel like if you’re going to get to know someone, you should at least remember some of the things they told you. It doesn’t matter if you’re just looking for sex, don’t ask if you aren’t interested. It’s a barely veiled attempt to lure them to bed. It’s disrespectful, and an insult to the person’s intelligence.
There are ways to go about this that don’t require manipulation. First off, set clear ideas of what you’re looking for. If you only want sex, look for someone who only wants the same. Don’t take a girl out, let her have a full on conversation with you that you’re not even listening to because she leaned against the table and you can see down her shirt. This is manipulation.
Secondly, if you do want to know about the person, try not sexualizing them; and actually holding a genuine conversation. There is a time and a place for this, and it’s not on the first date in a crowded restaurant.
Third, queues are everything, look for them. I personally will show a person if I’m interested in that. There is nothing wrong with one night stands, been there done that, with clear ideas of what we both wanted. There was no “tell me where you grew up,” “what’s your favorite band” type questions because both of us understood there was no need or want for that. No pretenses.
It’s hard to find that line and not sound like a hypocrite. And believe me honey, growing up in the South, I know the meaning of that word inside and out. I can’t explain why the frustration overtakes me. Perhaps I’m worried I’ll actually like someone and that’s all they are really after, but I can’t tell the difference because it all happens the same way.
Playing the ice queen and feeling these situations out is enough to make me want to scream. My self esteem takes a hard hit when I spend time and effort and end up another piece of ass. I’m not looking for a serious relationship, but a friend would be nice. A person who actually thinks I have a brain and a personality.
Sex is fun, flirting is great. But I’m more than sexy. I’m a person. I’m a nerd. I’m a writer. I drink way too much coffee. I’ll listen to the same song on repeat because I like it that much. I hate getting my socks wet, I like couch snuggles and lazy days, around town adventures and bookstores.
There is depth to me and if someone doesn’t care enough to remember those things because they are too busy undressing me with their eyes, then they don’t deserve my time. I’m more, so much more. Never sell yourself short. I’m learning that.
