Who needs casual sex!
When my recent date showed up at my door, minimalist bouquet in hand, I imagine I looked like I’d seen a ghost — of courtship past. He took me out to a restaurant with actual reservations, not to a taqueria or dive bar. He planned it nearly a week, not minutes, in advance. He picked me up in a cab rather than having me meet him there and, on his way over, he called instead of texting to give me a heads up.
Sure, we could be found post-midnight pressed up against a storefront on a street populated by intoxicated 20-somethings, the minty taste of Fernet fresh on our lips — but we didn’t have sex that night. We got back to my house and managed to unintentionally push all the decorative pillows off my living room couch, wedge my shoe under a cushion and knock over the fresh vase of flowers, before he announced, “As hard as this is going to be, I think the perfect end to this date would be for me to call a cab.”
What a revelation.
Even my serious relationships have started as seeming one-night stands. A couple of drinks as friends, some kissing and then a bed. This is what so many women of my generation do: We claim the same freedom to pursue our desires as men. We embrace the fun of exploration, the thrill of abandon. Sex doesn’t threaten to brand or disgrace us — at least not in any way that we recognize or respect. We aren’t defined by our “number” — we might not even keep track of it. Hallelujah for that. As I wrote four years ago in my essay “In defense of casual sex,” hookups can be a legitimate way of getting to know other people, as well as ourselves. And even when they aren’t, who cares: Women are just as entitled to meaningless flings as men. But, yes, as I’ve gotten older, casual sex has lost some of the luster of freedom. It isn’t that I’ve forsaken the delights of no-strings flings, but rather that I’ve tired of hookup culture’s dictatorial reign over modern courtship. It doesn’t feel so free when it doesn’t feel like an intentional choice.
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I’m conflicted about all this. I don’t believe that one’s sexuality can be broken like fine china, but I do think it’s special. I don’t believe that you should have to withhold sex in order to get what you want from a partner, but sometimes you really do get what you want when you wait, sometimes for entirely unexpected reasons. I don’t think sex on the first date dooms a relationship, and yet there’s a specialness in waiting until you’re comfortable enough with someone to get naked together while totally sober. I would never advocate a return to traditional gender roles, but courtship, actual effort, is refreshing — no matter the sex of the courter.
http://www.salon.com/2012/10/07/flowers_for_me/?utm_medium=referral&utm_source=pulsenews
= new reply since forum marked as read
) So, more often than not you get... er... shortchanged, so to speak.
