The Birth of Venus

This is a post from last summer on my personal blog that I felt like I wanted to share with my feminist friends!

I had a conversation with a guy friend of mine recently, who surprised me when he said that I seem to be a woman very in charge of my sexuality.  There is probably some truth to that now, but the opposite has been true for most of my life.  I've grow up with the misconception that my sexuality exists for the benefit of others, and that misconception definitely played out in my first relationship experiences.

Now, don't get me wrong.  I love being the goddess of someone else's fantasies.  Who doesn't?  It makes me feel sexy and desirable. 

And yet....

I have historically been very much afraid and hesitant to let others know who I really was as a sexual or even relational being.  When I didn't like something.  When I wanted more of something. When their fantasy of me did not match the reality of who I am.  If I didn't like what they were saying, and didn't encourage and indulge their fantasy then I wasn't fulfilling my role as a woman, right?  That has led to me enduring some rather boring, un-stimulating conversations... and touches.  

No more, my friends.

I should have been taught that it's okay to not like someone's sexual representation of me.  It's okay to have my own sexuality.  

With all the dating I've been doing recently, I've had abundant opportunities to practice this.  Saying no.  Identifying what I'm open to, and what I'm not up for: the who, what, how, when, and why... has been a gratifying exercise in self-love.  Here's a recent example that incorporates the intersection of a couple of identities of mine that people love to objectify: my ethnicity and my gender.

During the course of a rather delicious make-out, man-in-question called me Pocahontas.  What. The. Fuck.  Talk about killing any shred of desire I had for him.  Later, he sent me an email with the following youtube vid:

  

If any of you out there were wondering how to go about seducing me, fetishizing my Indianness is definitely NOT the way to go. Also, sending me a song that refers to an Indian woman as a squaw, not a great move.

This guy is actually a very nice guy and well-intentioned, just ill-informed, as many white folks are.  It's not necessarily his fault. Still, he had asked for my response to the song.  So I gave it.  Here's my response:

It seems to me like your intent was to connect with me, and show appreciation of my culture.  I appreciate that about you, and I appreciate your kind heart.  At the same time, it's not really comfortable for me when you bring up all the Indian stuff...

As an Indian woman, one of my fears is being seen as "exotic".  I get sick to my stomach when I see images like this (which I've seen all my life): 

They don't have anything to do with who I am, and they don't have anything to do with who Pocahontas was. I don't want to be some guy's fantasy of being with an Indian woman, because that reduces me to a stereotype and doesn't make room for my whole personhood.  It objectifies my Indian identity, which is a part of me that is very complex, deeply personal, and for me (and many of us!) riddled with mixed feelings and pain and loss.  Pocahontas is a sore subject for me because of the way Americans have twisted her story to fit a white man's sexual fantasy about Indian women.  She was 14 years old when she met John Smith, who was a grown man.  There was never any trace of a sexual relationship with him, AT ALL. The story is twisted and messed up in the way it's presented, objectifying Pocahontas.  Also, the fantasy of how she introduces John Smith into the idyllic world of the "noble savage" bothers me, too.  It's like Dances with Wolves or Avatar.  White Americans love to fantasize about the white man who wins the heart of the sex pot Indian woman, and then gets "adopted" as an Indian and becomes some hero and honorary member of a tribe.  

Also, the word squaw is a pejorative word referring to a woman's vagina.  Basically, calling an Indian woman that is like calling a white woman a cunt.

I don't want to be the canvas onto which White people project their guilt, or their fascination / idealization / romanticizing of Indian culture.  It's pretty common to meet people with new age sort of spiritual interests that get really fascinated about Indian stuff, and sometimes over-identify with it in my opinion.  I think it's well-intentioned, but represents another form of colonization. It isn't respectful...

In case you're wondering, writing that took some serious ovaries.  =P 

 It's one example of the experiences I've had recently that have blessed me with the opportunity to take care of myself.... to be a strong woman.  

This is my birth as a sensual, sexual, relational woman in charge of her own experiences.  Since I'm a true Pisces, I like to think of it as the birth of Venus...  born from the deep water of my own spirituality, my very own brand of womanness, my core.  

I won't be colonized.  I won't be objectified.  I won't be patronized.  

"talk to me now" by Ani DiFranco

he said ani, you've gotten tough
'cause my tone was curt
yeah, and when i'm approached in a dark alley
i don't lift my skirt
in this city
self-preservation
is a full time occupation
i'm determined
to survive on these shores
i don't avert my eyes anymore
in a man's world
i am a woman by birth
and after nineteen times around i have found
they will stop at nothing once they know what you are worth
talk to me now
i played the powerless
in too many dark scenes
and i was blessed with a birth and a death
and i guess i just want some say in between
don't you understand
in the day to day
in the face to face
i have to act
just as strong as i can
just to preserve a place
where i can be who i am
so if you still know how
talk to me now