The Funk-Filled Bratwurst Debate.

Those of you who read some of the well-known feminist blogs are aware that there’s a debate getting fired up regarding whether or not a feminist woman should give blowjobs. Whether it’s all patriarchy-worshipping or just plain gross and wrong. The point isn’t the actual blog post that inspired all the explosions, it’s the comments attached from readers. Twisty is a beautiful shit-disturber at the best of times – but even disregarding the potential for disturbing-of-said-shit, I’m stunned nonetheless by how many other blogs have leaped onto the subject and how many people are shouting that putting a penis in your mouth should mean you burn your feminist membership card.

To this whole debate I say, Are you fucking kidding me?

In my world, feminism means I can do anything I want with no restrictions imposed as a result of my gender. It’s seriously that simple to me.

I can be a firefighter, I can punch people, I can go topless, I can choose not to wear makeup (or choose to wear a lot of it), I can choose to shave my legs or not, I can stand on my head and sing the National Anthem, I can play sports or knit, and none of my actions make me more or less of a worthy person. If I choose to stay home and make a hundred babies and boil preserves on a woodstove while standing around in my bare feet, I’m still a feminist. I’m still a feminist because I was aware of my options, I made the choice for myself and my own happiness and because I believe that other women should make their own choices, too.

The key word here is CHOICE. It’s about having the freedom to make choices for myself as a PERSON, not as a WOMAN. My personality and my interests dictate what I do with my life, not the fact that I have no penis. We encourage men to try ‘softer’ things like knitting and sewing and creative writing, but we shun women who do because it’s a ‘stereotypical female thing’. That’s bullshit.

At this point in time, sadly, some of my choices may make it harder for me to interact with the general public. There are women who don’t approve of certain “unfeminine” behaviours and there are men who still believe I should behave as though it’s 1871. Sometimes I choose to do something more ‘female’ in order to fit in – but I try hard to avoid that. Ultimately, and ideally, the legal system protects me from any discrimination based on my gender – which means it’s now up to me to walk the walk and talk the talk. To pick my battles wisely. To remind society that women are, get this, people! and are no different than men in any way when it comes to living life fully.

I’m not in denial. I know shit is still harder for women, sometimes. I know the legal system fails, sometimes. I know there are a lot of people out there who walk a fine line every single day. I know women are still fighting crappy situations in which their lack of a penis is apparently a problem for some. Ultimately I have to live as though I’m equal in the eyes of everyone in the world – that’s the only way I know of that things will change for the better as time goes by.

But, um, back to blowjobs…

Assuming one uses the term ‘blowjob’ to pertain only to the oral stimulation of men (in other words, ‘fellatio’ = ‘blowjob’) then what we’re talking about here is whether it’s right or wrong for me to provide pleasure to a man. Given that my chosen life partner is a man, and given that I enjoy watching his eyes roll back into his head, it seems like a no-brainer that I’d fling myself down on his penis any ol’ time of day that I get the urge. Not because he begs me to, or demands that I do it, and not because he holds my head in place – that’s not choice. That’s control. I do it because I enjoy giving him pleasure and I have no objections to providing it orally. It’s the equivalent, albeit somewhat messier and more dramatic, to offering to scratch his back when it’s itchy. It’s the same as massaging his shoulders when he’s sore, or grabbing him a tylenol when he has a headache. I don’t always do THOSE things – I mean, sometimes I don’t even offer to grab him a tylenol when I’m up. Sometimes I don’t feel like giving him a blowjob. And so, I don’t.

It doesn’t even depend on whether or not he’s willing to pleasure ME orally. (For the sake of conversation, Coffee would happily spend all day, every day, with his face shoved between my thighs – and you’re welcome for that new visual which will never, ever EVER leave your brain..) The fact is that we all have different comfort levels, and it’s something I think people need to respect. Sex, as part of a relationship, isn’t 50/50. It isn’t “you touch here and then I’ll touch there”. I love to have my feet massaged – but I never do it back to Coffee. Does that mean he should never ever massage my feet again? It makes sense to give what you can, to ask why you’re not comfortable with other actions, to tell your partner what you really, really like. All sex should be negotiated like S/M relationships – a questioning of desires, a questioning of what’s involved, and equal consent. No one ever died from not getting oral pleasure. And on that same note, I have never heard anyone say that a man is less manly if he’s willing to provide some oral stimulation to his partner. You cannot give me the ol’ double standard on this subject.

I know, comparing foot massages to blowjobs and S/M seems .. strange. But ultimately, it’s about pleasure. It’s about the things we do to and for our partner. It’s about knowing what you’re comfortable with and giving it as freely as possible. It’s not about forcing yourself to do something you’re not comfortable with – and if your partner insists on it, s/he’s an asshole. It’s not a subserviant thing to offer pleasure. It’s a kindness, in a way. I like to do nice things for Coffee, sometimes, and it’s got nothing to do with calculating how much he’s done for me. We are a partnership – and that means we look out for each other, we do things to make each other happy and we pay attention to one another. Sexually and non.

Sex is always kept in some strange compartment. Society is more than willing to talk openly about who does the dishes at night or who walks the dogs, but we clam up about problems in bed. We make jokes about frigid wives and philandering husbands, but we don’t talk much about those issues in serious tones. We’re embarassed, in some cases, to admit that we have sex – and we’re equally embarassed to admit when we don’t. We hide our kinks and our fetishes and our desires – sometimes even from the one person who would most be willing to try something new with us.

Then we take something that’s good and healthy and normal, something like a blowjob, and we make it political.

It’s not. It’s not even a little bit political. It’s a choice like any other. It’s got nothing to do with feminism or anti-feminism. It’s.. an orgasm.

I’m would never say that it’s wrong to not like blowjobs – getting or giving and for any reason at all – but I am saying that you can’t judge me or anyone else as being “anti-women” if we decide to pleasure our partners in any way we choose. It’s a mutual pleasure, by the way. I’m not sitting there with his wang in my mouth but secretly wishing I was watching Oprah. (God, I hate Oprah.)

To sum:

The point of feminism is that I, as a woman, can make any choice I want with regard to how I live my life and what I put in my mouth for any purpose. If you choose to give head, more power to you. If you choose not to give head, rock on, too.

I am a feminist and I suck cock.