A Woman’s Sexual Power
Heterosexual sex can be seen as a marketplace
where men are the buyers and women are sellers.
According to this analysis, sex
is essentially a female resource.
Female sexual activity is much in demand
and has high social value, in contrast
to male activity, which is plentiful and
easy to come by, therefore worthless.
A woman’s sexual consent is a valuable asset
that may command a high price. Because his
sex has no value in the market, the man,
looking to ‘purchase’ female sex, is required
to bring other valuable social resources to the
transaction, such as attention, time, love,
respect, commitment, money, status, etc.
What makes female sex so valuable? The ultimate reason
lies with evolution. His investment in the sexual
act and the risk he takes are minimal.
On the other hand, his pleasure (orgasm)
is guaranteed, and each sexual encounter
increases his chances for more offspring.
The female’s investment in a sexual act and the risk
she takes are in contrast very high (the risk of death
from complications of pregnancy or childbirth).
Her pleasure is not guaranteed, and having
sex with multiple men doesn’t increase her
chances of getting more offspring.
Therefore, sex for men is a no-risk/high-profit investment.
For woman, the equation is reversed. The supply of female
interest in sex is reduced, and since male demand is high,
the price rises.
The sexual motivation gap between men and women
puts men at a disadvantage in sex negotiations.
According to the ‘principle of least interest,’
the one less invested (or motivated) in a
relationship, controls it.
In the age of #MeToo, and in the wake of the Brett Kavanaugh
hearings, parents across the country have been wrestling
with the anxieties of raising teenage boys to understand consent.
How does a parent bring clarity to an issue that is too complex
even for the country’s political leaders to navigate?
How can a mother or father prevent their teenage son
from someday being accused of sexual assault?
Teaching consent to teenagers is
still a relatively new concept.
In previous decades, conversations
about the “birds and the bees” focused
on abstinence or using protection.
In recent years, consent has gradually made
its way into public school sex education
curriculum, but it’s still rare.
Only 24 states require sex education in public schools.
Fewer than a dozen states mention the terms
“healthy relationships,” “sexual assault” or “consent”
in their sex education programs,
Teen Girls: Sexual Power
I flounced over to a nearby table seating
a group of young (older than me) men.
I leaned over their table and pressed my tits
together, smiled brightly, put on a honey-sweet
voice like a Southern waitress peddling my own
teenage ass as I bummed a Marlboro Red.
Teen Girls Are Honey
Pots for Most Men
I remember when I was 14 and out with my father. In a rare bonding experience, he accompanied me to the open mic night where my parents dutifully dropped me off every week. I love it there, a weird kid hanging out with friendly adults who used to be weird kids in a college town pizza place re-imagined as an evening home for acoustic guitar strummers and frustrated Oklahoma poets. My dad wishes he had a cigarette.
“I can get you one,” I say, maybe adding a “Watch this,” before flouncing over to a nearby table seating a group of young (older than me) men. I lean over their table and press my tits together, smile brightly, put on a honey-sweet voice like a Southern waitress peddling my own teenage ass as I bum a Marlboro Red. My clumsy sexuality is too obvious, cloying, annoying probably, but then, I’m 14. 15? It works, anyway. It’s hard to be too obvious for most men.
I’m aware of my father’s eyes behind me. I am trying to impress him with my newfound skills, to show him how I can get men to give me things. I have been groomed for this; I think he will approve.
I don’t think I’d hit my teens when I first realized how to be powerful in this way. It’s like finding out one day that you’re a teen witch, or that you own a shiny red Porsche you aren’t licensed to drive yet. That doesn’t stop groups of men from gathering around and low-whistling talking about “Look at them headlights” and “I bet she rides fine.” Your engine idles and roars.
By the age of 12 I had the kind of overstuffed body that a lot of men like, and low levels of seratonin and self-esteem, which a lot of men also like. Murmurs and nasty whispers followed me home like stray kittens. In the slender period between my development and the vicious assault that would precede my rapid weight gain, I was pretty but felt ugly, the most dangerous combination for a girl.
I lost my virginity a week after I turned 12, to rape, then commenced giving it away to whoever wanted it from then on.
During my teen years, it never occurred to me to consider my own wants and desires when it came to being sexual with another person. Each time anyone desired me, it felt like an unexpected gift, each lusty, husky-voiced compliment a diamond. I was astounded, genuinely, every time someone found me worthy to copulate with. What was attraction, anyway? All I needed to see was a favorable reflection of myself in his eyes. The yes was a foregone conclusion.
I have never found anything that feels more powerful to me than that moment, that intoxicating twilight when I had something that a man wants, desperately; when I held all the cards and his undivided attention. It’s power — some may think it an empty, silly little girl version, but wielded deftly, it can do all the things “real” power can do, if only by manipulating the men who hold it. Besides, it was the only power I had access to.