Fifty Shades, Fandom and Feminism

Originally posted on my local patch. Slightly off topic.

Over the past few months the ‘Fifty Shades’ book series has blow up being talked about in major news publications and is being labeled as something called ‘mommy porn.’ After the patch ran the blog post “Is This Normal? ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ Review” I was once again reminded of a trap that so called liberated women fall into when we believe that our own version of sexuality is superior to others. I read the full Fifty Shades series beginning almost 2 years ago, back when it was a Twilight fan fiction called ‘Master of the Universe’ waiting for new chapter updates with numerous other people. I have watched as a book that I enjoyed but didn’t think much of at the time blow up into a huge success and am not really surprised since the original story had over 30,000 reviews by the time it was finished. The book has become increasingly controversial and has been since its time as a fan fic, creating a divide in the fandom.

Before I start breaking down the series more thoroughly let me clear the air about a few things. If you seriously read erotica because you hope one day that it’s going to turn into an Oscar worthy movie, please do yourself a favor and find another genre of books to read. The plot lines can be boring, tiresome, overused but that doesn’t mean that the sex in the series isn’t steamy or worthless because it isn’t going to get a Pulitzer for the best written novel in the history of writing. That doesn’t mean that there are no erotic novels that are worthy of getting a Pulitzer but having some grand illusion that this series should be the best written one you have ever read is ridiculous. It is smut. Dismissing the book because it is erotica or because the writing leaves a little to be desired is ridiculous. Clearly people are connecting with it or the book wouldn’t be everywhere right now.

The story itself is pretty simple. Ana meets Christian, finds out Christian is a dominant, has suffered abuse in his past, and spends the majority of the story having sex, trying to cure him of the trauma in his past while also dealing with him being a controlling asshole of a dominant. Both characters change drastically during the series, Ana begins as a college student who is about the graduate when they meet. We soon find out she is not only a virgin but that she is completely clueless when it comes to most things, like when she thought that Christians playroom had an Xbox. She is constantly struggling to understand her own sexuality in the book, the desire she feels for Christian while also the (often misplaced or misguided) fear she has about BDSM. She is also trying to work against social narratives that tell her she must be her own woman, she shouldn’t accept the lavish gifts he gives her and hates it when he does spend money on her.

Christian on the other hand is controlling, wealthy, older but only 27 to her 22, runs his own company, and is into BDSM. From the very beginning when he meets Ana there is never a point he is not upfront with who he is and what he wants from her. Like Edward from Twilight, he has stalker like tendencies that get called out often during the series by Ana. Further into the series we learn more about his past, the trauma he faced as a child, his own food issues he is constantly demanding Ana to eat in his presence is due to the starvation he faced as a child. Throughout the first book he is sending food to Darfur, to further expand the understanding of his own character. His role as a dominant is confusing, his own past is often blamed for the reason he is into BDSM, Ana not only fears it but is also excited by it. While he is a conflicted character, with flaws (how human of him), throughout the series he is changing because he wants to be better for Ana.

The power struggle that has been commented on in reviews of the story are often ignoring the way Ana character plays in the relationship, acting as though it is one sided with Christian always taking a demanding or controlling position. Yes he is a giant jerk for much of the series, more so in the first book, but Ana pushes back against him. She holds power over him emotionally and sexually over the whole series. The more their relationship develops the more power she has over him. Christian does control much of the key to Ana’s sexuality in the beginning. He is literally the one who feeds or awakens her sexuality, which is a little boring to me, but that is one of the most powerful things about him. To me the power struggles between the two is a moot point, they both have different forms of power in the relationship using them in good and bad ways.

The way BDSM is framed in the story is one of the most troublesome issues I have with it. It is treated like a devious thrilling part of Christian when Ana wants it to be part of their sex life, but it is also treated like it is a manifestation of mental illness. Due to the trauma in his past, BDSM is framed to be a form of therapy Christian uses to deal with his emotions. This gives the readers an incorrect idea about what BDSM is and what kinds of people participate in the lifestyle. It makes it appear that the control issues, stalking and other bad behaviors Christian exhibits are due to the lifestyle not his own character. In the book Christian is a bad Dom. He is pursuing Ana to be his sub, while also having her sign a non-disclosure agreement when she knows nothing about the lifestyle and makes it so that she cannot talk to anyone about it. He also is trying to get her to agree to be his sub when she clearly is uncomfortable with the terms that go along with that. Most Dom/sub relationships rely on the use of a contract that lets each party lay out the kind of lifestyle they are comfortable with. This includes the time they spend together, the sexual acts they are comfortable with and the ones they aren’t. From the get go Ana is uncomfortable with the terms of the agreement but Christian continues to pursue her because he wants her.

As their relationship progresses Christian becomes less reliant on BDSM and the series makes the reader believe that as he works through his own ‘issues’ he is becoming cured of his dark side. While BDSM is still part of the series all the way until the end, it becomes a thrilling part of their sex life and is used less as a tool to cause Ana fear. Even with that the framing of the lifestyle has led to reviews like the one above where it is demonized and feared when in reality the book doesn’t show a true BDSM relationship that isn’t a power struggle but one of mutual agreement.

True BDSM relationships are not like how the relationship in the series is depicted. They are not how the review that I linked to above spoke about them either. The review states some pretty harsh prejudice about BDSM lifestyles that I find to be abhorrent. BDSM relationships are not a form of abuse or are all about controlling and abusing the person who is the submissive. All submissive are not women and both parties have a mutual trust between each other. Assuming that reading this series is going to give you a full understanding of BDSM lifestyles is ridiculous.

Another thing that needs to be addressed is the labeling of the series as porn, it is porn but this is always done as a way to demonize all pornography as evil or demoralizing to women. As a sex positive feminist I am not anti porn, I am anti non-consensual sex, anti abstinence only education, and anti sexual oppression. I am for giving other outlets to show true sexual expression, that doesn’t demonize the sexual choices of others or rely on unrealistic essentialized depictions of sexuality to educate the masses.  That is how unrealistic or harmful versions of sex are produced, through sexual oppression not through porn itself. If sex weren’t treated like such a dirty topic, the ability to educate others about consensual sex would be far more common.

Dismissing the series and then also labeling it as anti feminist or touting that you are superior to others because you haven’t read it, because it’s erotica or because there are problems with the relationship in the series it, is offensive. Believing that women cannot think critically about the material in the book is offensive and reminds me of a time when men feared that allowing women to be college educated would make them unable to reproduce. It brings us back to a time where women need to be protected against the bad things in the world for illogical reasons. A time when a woman choosing to have agency over her own sexuality is one of the worst crimes ever (like the present). Even when the way she begins to explore her own sexuality is with this book. There is nothing wrong with wanting to be sexy or feel sexy. There is nothing wrong with a woman wanting to explore her own sexuality separate from her partner.

So please if you are going to review the book, don’t demonize the lifestyles of others. Don’t set standards or believe that you know the type of relationships that all women like to be in. Don’t assume that love gives a more fulfilling life than sex alone. Don’t assume that what you believe is right for everyone. Don’t set up sexual binaries around what is a feminist version of sexuality. Let people figure it out for themselves.

I do agree with one line from the other review,

“Women are liberated when they make their own choices about their relationships, their sexuality, and their money.”

The only thing is that also means that women get to make choices for their own lives without needing the opinion of other women about what they think are the correct choices.

Virginity as a Social Construction

The word slut has been taken back, challenged and changed meaning to many people within the sex positive movement. What I find really interesting about this is that the majority of people who want to take back slut want to drop the word virgin. I find it really frustrating when people want to banish a word based solely on the negative realities of its social construction. While part of this is because I identify with it, I use the word virginity in the same way that I use the word fat. It is political to me; it is bred from the idea that this, like the word fat, is something that I was taught to be ashamed of. I was told that I shouldn’t use this word because it makes other people uncomfortable. I don’t know about you but that makes me feel like I should be using it more.

Most of the rejection of the word comes from the idea that virginity as a whole is considered to be socially constructed, but what people don’t do is challenge themselves to see that just by saying it is socially constructed doesn’t actually break apart what that means and what value judgments we place on virginity or virgins in general.

For most of us, the idea that virginity is a social construction comes down to the idea surrounding what virginity is. A virgin is a person who not only hasn’t had sex with another person, is normally female since their purity matters more then the purity of men, and has an intact hymen. If we throw everything to the side as bullshit except the reality that this is a person who hasn’t had sex with another person, we are still left with quite a few unspoken beliefs about virgins.

Some of the most widely speculated beliefs are that we don’t know anything about sex, we are sexually repressed, conservative, religious, or will slut shame the hell out of anyone we come across. Now I can say that I don’t identify with any of those beliefs and I challenge the assertion that this is something that is solely contained to people who identify as virgins. I would highly doubt anyone that tries to tell me that they don’t know at least 1 person in their life who engages in sex with another person and doesn’t identify with one of the items I listed above.

The idea that virginity is a social construction should not just be contained to the reasons why our society places value purity and abstaining from sex with another person. It should also challenge the reality that virgins can be just as sexually active or knowledgeable about sex as the rest of us.

Reinforcing Sexual Hierarchies in Fat Positive Spaces

For a long time I have watched as the fat rights community has continued to reinforce problematic sexual and relationship hierarchies in fat positive spaces. As a community we whole-heartedly reject the notion that fat bodies are inherently unhealthy or any other stereotype attached to our fat bodies, but what we don’t address is what I feel is almost a compulsive need to prove to others that we are not those stereotypes. While doing this we ignore the reality that people do fall into the spaces we are trying to not fill by distancing ourselves from them.

This kind of distancing continues this notion of a ‘good fatty / bad fatty’ dichotomy that makes it so those of us without “successful” relationships, who may or may not want to be in a relationship, feel as though we are somehow lesser than. If we were to be truly revolutionary we would be challenging the stereotype all together. Who gets to choose where self worth or social acceptability comes from? Who gets to decide that any person, regardless of body size, must conform to what we deem to be acceptable forms of relationships or sexual acts? Who gets to decide where someone’s sexuality comes from or what kind of sex is better? If we want to be revolutionary we should be challenging all standards of living, not just showing exceptions to stereotypes.

When is comes to sex and relationships the discussion is almost always led by someone who is partnered, is about having sex with other people while being slanted toward the idea that being a good fatty means being in a relationship. Very rarely does sex talk involve personal experiences from those of us who are not intimate with other people. It very rarely involves breaking away from the normative standards of sexual experience, which deems relationships between two people to be the best kind of relationship to be in.

Because of the widely held prejudicial belief that fat people are unlovable conversations have often centered on challenging that. It isn’t abnormal to come across blogs that tell people that they will be loved, that they will have fulfilling sexual experiences that focus on multiple partners being involved. This sends the message that intimate relationships with others, sexual experiences and self worth are related. While I highly doubt anyone has meant for this to happen, the reality is that by not making space for people who are not intimate with other people we are continuing to exclude people from this movement based on pretty archaic sexual hierarchies.

Within sex positive discourse it isn’t abnormal to see discussion about how female sexuality in particular, though I would say any gender that does not conform to the traditional role of male sexuality, is seen to have their sexuality given to them. The idea behind this is that sexuality is taught to women by men, that their sexuality is not manifested from within but from other people. Even when we remove ourselves from this traditional thought about sexuality and move into being more sex positive we still recreate this same narrative when we only talk about sex between partners or make a distinction between solo sexual experiences (aka masturbation) and sex with others.

It isn’t abnormal for me to be discussing sex with other people and a distinction to be made by saying sex with a partner is better than being alone. The truth is that I have found just as many people who don’t see the difference and the reality is that it doesn’t matter. Everyone’s sexual experience is different, I enjoy my sexual experience with my box of toys, and others might enjoy their sexual experiences to be with one partner or two or three. Some people do nothing, some do a lot. Every form of variation is valid, every form is good.

Discussions that center around only one kind of relationship or sexual experience, leaves room for interpretation that those are the only kind that matter. They continue to reinforce sexual hierarchies that are damaging not only to people within the fat rights movement but also to anyone who believes they are truly sex positive. Being revolutionary means speaking for all people, not essentializing aspects of people’s sexuality, relationships or worth.

For further reading,

“Thinking Sex: Notes for a Radical Theory of the Politics of Sexuality” Gayle S. Rubin

Explaining Away Difference

For much of my life there has always been a major thread that I have felt links the way we feel about difference. We always want to understand it, to know why it exists but also to place it in a box that we can put it as far away from ourselves as possible. When we come across someone that is different from ourselves we have this irrational need to put labels on it. Often times this leads people into a pretty harmful discussion where we don’t accept that difference but we rationalize it away as the cause of something else, even when that isn’t the case.

I don’t talk about my sexuality often on this blog, over the past 6 years I have written about my virginity and what it means to me as well as a post about being socially acceptable. What I haven’t written about is why my sexuality is the way it is. This is something I have been thinking about in different a context this past week because of some discussions that hit a little too close to home in a class I am taking. The discussion itself centered on a certain form of sexuality and developed into a discussion about the reasons why people identify that way. What came out of it was language that has been used against me in my own life.

The last date I went on ended when the guy I was out with was told about my lack of intimate partners. His response is one that I have gotten often when people are told, “But you’re so normal.” Later via text he told me that I am ‘hyper-functional’ which were probably the harshest comments that I have ever received. Over the years people have told me how sorry they are, have tried to find a root cause for why I’m ‘damaged,’ etc. Most of the comments have centered on the idea that I should be pitied, I am mentally ill or the trauma in my past has caused it. At no point has there ever been a rational thought that maybe it just happened.  That it isn’t the cause of some strange sad horrible thing but that it just is.

Some of the most harmful discussions we can have about people who are different from us are ones where we try to pathologize or imply mental illness as the root cause. We place our own beliefs and judgments on those that are different than us because they have a different set of standards for how they live their lives. We imply that they are somehow defective, unhappy or not functional without taking the time to understand that they are people.

Some simple ground rules, don’t tell me you are sorry, don’t assume I am missing out on life, don’t act like my sexuality doesn’t exist, don’t reinforce normative standards of sexuality, and don’t assume that I have something wrong with me or that there is a cause for my sexuality. Above all else, don’t try to cure me or tell me why you think I am the way I am.

My Thorny Virginity

At one point in my life, in the not too distant past, I was very shameful of my status as a virgin. It wasn’t until people started telling me how to act, who to be, how to look and dress to change myself that I started to realize that I made other people uncomfortable. My virginity made them question themselves. For some women it made them think that I was a prude who would judge them for being sexually active. For some men it made them feel like I was challenging their masculinity for not being attracted to them, because I was not only a virgin – who desperately needed to fix this problem – but I was also fat and socially unattractive due to said fatness. How dare I not beg them to fuck me!

People think that being a virgin means that I am somehow opposed to sex, religious or that I am not sexually experienced in understanding my own body. Often times I notice that people censor their own conversations around me, not talking about sex or intimacy with me because they think that I cannot talk about it or do not understand.

It has also led people to question my sexual orientation, sometimes being called a lesbian by men who fall into the if I’m not attracted to them it is because I am not attracted to any man! I was even asked once by my father if I had any new ‘boyfriends or girlfriends’ in my life. Something that if you knew my father you would understand is a really abnormal question for him to ask and this wasn’t the first time that someone on his side of the family has asked questions. My aunts seem think it is their sole mission when they talk to me to find out if I am actually fucking anyone. When their search comes up empty it turns into a speech about how they don’t want me to end up like ‘so and so,’ or how much better of a person I would be if I did have a partner.

This is what happens when people find out you are a virgin. It doesn’t matter what else you do in your life, how full it is or how happy you are, the fact of the matter is that you are incomplete. You are automatically vulnerable to their pity or their shaming of you.

The point that changed for me where I stopped feeling shame about my virginity, and I started to own the fact that it is mine to do with it what I want, was when a male coworker told me that if I was ever desperate enough he would take care of my ‘problem.’ Offering himself to me in such a crude way made me realize how lucky I am to go into a sexual situation with life experience, knowledge that most people do not have when losing their virginity and privileged to not have it taken by force or without my consent.

While it does shape the way I approach dating or possible relationships it does not define my worth.

** It has taken me a long time to write this post, in some ways due to all of the amazing emphasis that people in the fat rights community have in showing successful relationships, but a lot of it is because of the shame I felt filling space as a stereotype. Often we spend so long disproving the stereotypes we forget that people, like myself, fall into them head first. I know now that being a fat virgin does not mean that something is wrong with me personally. Successfully dating or not we all deserve respect because we are all human.