Why I Don't Support Marriage Equality

If you're looking at my blog, you've probably encountered the recent sea of red marriage equality pictures on Facebook. Maybe you've even joined in yourself, changing your profile picture to some version of this:

Perhaps you've noticed my hostility to these 'marriage equality' campaigns over the years. I figured it's about time that I addressed why I do not support this movement, and why I think you should be critical of it too.

I am not a supporter of marriage, gay or straight. Its basis - women as the property of men - is extremely misogynistic and has never been effectively critiqued and reworked on a societal level. Sure, my father can't exchange me to a man of his choosing for a predetermined number of goats anymore, but that is not really a challenge to the underlying gendered bias of marriage. Although individual couples may be much better able to negotiate the terms of the gendered roles of their relationships than in the past, the cultural 'script' of what it means to be married - that is, the picture we immediately get when we think of a married couple - continues to be one where the man is the head of the household, and the woman takes care of the kids. Until we have a non-gendered cultural/societal understanding of the roles within a marriage, there is nothing 'equal' about it!

Same-sex marriage is not inherently more progressive than heterosexual marriage. Our understanding of 'married couple' is shaped by assumptions that the relationship consists of two people who engage in particular gendered behaviours; whether or not their genitals match up with these roles is pretty much irrelevant. I suspect that same-sex marriage actually promotes a more conservative understanding of same-sex relationships than currently exists. Instead of opening up the possibility to reconsider how gendered roles are negotiated within heterosexual relationships, I suspect same-sex couples will instead be bombarded with more questions of the "So, which one of you is the man?" variety.

Gaining the 'privilege' of entering into a heterosexual institution also means playing by their rules. Hinging civil rights onto marriage further exasperates inequalities. There are many valid reasons not to want to get married, regardless of who you don't want to get married to. I worry that when equal rights are attached to marriage, unmarried same-sex couples who try to fight against discrimination will be left with little other recourse than to marry. For instance, parenting rights. Many heterosexual couples have kids without getting married and the father is still recognised as the legal co-parent. I think that as a society it would be easy for us to just expect that same-sex couples would get married in order to access rights that are granted to heterosexuals simply for being heterosexual. This is because underlying issues of homophobia are not being addressed by the marriage equality movement.

Marriage equality will not end homophobia; after all, interracial marriage did not end racism. Instead, it creates a hierarchy of relationship types whereby being married is privileged over all other relationships and other relationship configurations are dismissed as not possibly being as committed/serious/caring. I'm sure we're all familiar with some of the abominations of heterosexual celebrity marriages, so I probably don't need to spend a lot of time talking about how ridiculous it is to assume that marriage is the best possible type of relationship to be in. Heterosexual couples already have to deal with the pressure of marriage privilege when they choose not to marry. Same-sex marriage will only make the marriage monster a bigger, badder, harder to resist machine of cultural conformity.

Because same-sex attracted people have been excluded from the tradition of marriage, we have had to come up with other ways of being in relationships. This has meant creating new ways of making commitments to one another, and finding new reasons to stay together when things get tough. Marriage presents itself as a 'one size fits all' kind of relationship, but we've got stockades full of evidence that shows it does not. The marriage equality movement is closing the queer community off from having those discussions. Our voices are silenced and we are made to feel guilty for not jumping on the bandwagon.

Same-sex marriage is being heralded as a band-aid that will fix all our gay issues. I keep hearing that once our relationships are recognised as 'legitimate', we will be much better able to fight for issues like queer suicide and homophobic bullying. I hear this from intelligent, critical thinking people who should know better. If we have to get married for our relationships to be seen as legitimate, that is NOT acceptance! That is barely even tolerance. In many ways I think that allowing same-sex marriage will make it harder to fight against homophobia and what it produces. It shifts the attitude to "We gave you marriage, what are you still complaining about?" It makes it harder to point to the systemic discrimination that lead to things like higher rates of depression and suicide amongst the queer community. "Give it time, it takes time for the benefits of marriage equality to trickle down." I don't see how anyone can think that is 'good enough'.

Queer relationships are legitimate, diverse, alternative models to the heteronorm. I refuse to belong to a movement that tells me what I have is not worth valuing and asks me to conform to someone else's values. Marriage equality denies the good things about different types of queer relationships and tells us we'd be so much better off if we aspired to be like heterosexuals.

Remember second wave feminism? Where women were told they should strive to be like men and that would be super awesome? Remember what that produced? It created an even greater devaluation of traditional femininity, making it harder to engage men in feminism because asking them to step into the home was asking them to voluntarily become social outcasts.

I think the marriage equality movement, like second wave feminism, started out with good intentions. But it has been co-opted by conservative values and it's time we let it go and moved on to something new. Something that recognises the value within different types of relationships and doesn't place one type above all others. I don't want to take the marriage model away as a type of relationship that people engage in. What I want is for the marriage model to be recognised as one of many different, legitimate types of relationship models that some people engage in. And I think that's something that we can achieve, if we start to think critically about what marriage equality will actually produce.

Aussie Camping Adventure

In the five years I've been living in Australia I've come a long way in creating myself as an Australian. But there was one thing missing: an Aussie camping trip! For the past few years I have been longing to sleep in a tent and roast marshmallows over a camp fire. Unfortunately for me, I haven't had particularly camping inclined friends. So while I've gone on a few road trips now, they've always involved staying in buildings with electricity, plumbing, and beds.

Fortunately for me, I met my girlfriend, hence forth referred to as 'Foxy'. Foxy loves road trips and camping, so when I told her I was serious about wanting to go camping over brunch one morning, within 2 hours we had our trip planned and booked! Since I can't even remember the last time I went camping we decided to go to a caravan park instead of just rocking up to the bush like she's used to. At the recommendation of some of my friends, we settled on Cumberland river on the Great Ocean Road.

The thing about camping is, you need a car. While Foxy has a car, she doesn't have her licence. And while I have my licence, I've hardly driven in the past 5 years, had never driven in Melbourne, and had quite limited experience driving on the left. Look, we did alright! Both the people and the car made it there and back without injury, bar a few frazzled nerves. Let's just say, driving at night is much harder than I remember it. Driving down the Great Ocean Road at night is terrifying. I'm glad that most of the driving we did was during the bright, sunny, clear-skied day!

We hit the road late Friday morning and headed off for what was both my first Aussie camping adventure and me and Foxy's first weekend away together. The drive down the Great Ocean Road is truly beautiful, and it is actually a fun drive too - if you like windy roads. By the time we left on Sunday I was really enjoying making my way around those tight bends. I'm not going to lie, I really do enjoy driving and it was damn good to be behind the wheel of a car again! Even if I was pretty nervous.

Great shark! On the Great Ocean Road.

We got to the campground in the afternoon, and were very pleased to discover that not only did our campsite have a beautiful view, but it was also probably the shadiest site in the campground. Foxy got the tent up, with me attempting to be helpful. She'd picked us up a 6 person tent, so we had heaps of room (relatively speaking), and I've got a nifty air mattress, so we were pretty darn comfortable! Once we'd gotten ourselves set up, we cracked open a couple beers and enjoyed the serenity. At least until we discovered that we were camping next to a large group of dads with a disproportionate number of daughters, all under the age of 7. The dad two sites over from us was particularly crap, as were his bratty daughters who kept wandering into our campsite to play and then looked at us like wtf were we doing there... *shutter*

Tent up = beer o'clock!

After we had gotten ourselves settled we popped over across the road for some quality beach time. The beach was good! The sand was soft and not too hot, the waves were crashing in impressively, there were neat rocks to explore on, and we were right where the river met the ocean. That evening we drove into nearby Lorne for dinner, followed by ice cream. Then it was back to the campground for our first night in the tent.

Beach time!

We lucked out and got really amazing weather. The nights were cool but not too cold, the mornings were slightly overcast with a cool breeze, but then the sun would break through the clouds and the rest of the day would be sunny and just hot enough to be enjoyable summer weather. We weren't the only ones who fluked out on the good weather though! It turns out Saturday afternoon we had front row seats to a wedding! As many of you know, I'm not exactly a fan of weddings. But I enjoyed this one. Everyone was really friendly and relaxed. We had a chat with the groom and the uncle as they set up the decorations for the ceremony in the morning and they were really lovely and encouraged us to come watch the wedding (the uncle referred to children as short monsters, instantly winning us over).

How's the serenity?

The campground is on a bushwalking trail to some waterfalls. I think there's a few different falls you can go to, depending on how far you want to hike. We decided to check out Cumberland Falls, which was approximately a 9km return trip. Planning to have a swim in the rock pools and a picnic lunch, we packed up my backpack with supplies and headed off. This bushwalk involved a fair bit of river hopping, which I was quite happy about as I enjoy scampering over rocks. Foxy was less keen on that part of it, but by the time we came back she was making her way across the rocks like a champ!

We had been left with the impression that the trail was fairly easy and well marked. For the most part that was true, but there were certainly a few places where we had no idea where the trail was, and the bit right before the falls involved more intense rock clambering that we'd signed on for. In the end, we didn't have a picnic or go for a swim, so the pack was a bit of a nuisance. But now we know for next time.

Cumberland Falls

I'd been going on about how I wanted to see some Australian wildlife, and may or may not have said "This trip won't be complete unless I see a marsupial." (Which we did - we saw some kangaroos while driving into Lorne.) On the hike we came across heaps of lizards. I am a fan of reptiles, so I was pretty happy about that. Although, this being Australia, I was a bit disappointed that the lizards weren't gigantic. So after one of our river crossings on the way back, when I saw a large reptilian head on the other side of some rocks, I was pretty keen to get up close and personal with a big ass lizard!

IT WAS NOT A LIZARD!!! I stepped over the rock and found myself standing right beside an impressively sized snake. Now, I like snakes, a lot. But as Foxy put it, "The 5th most poisonous snake in Australia will still kill you."

I quickly backed up to the other side of the rocks while calling out "SNAKE! It's a snake!" With Foxy behind me going "Get back! Get back!" For its part, the snake slithered off back into the bush where it was safe from pestering humans trodding on it. All it wanted was to sun itself on the nice, warm rocks.

There were some people coming up the track, so I thought I'd be useful and yelled out that there was a snake up ahead. Apparently this was not a helpful thing to do. When they reached us - a group of barefooted, bare chested men and teenage boys - we informed them that there had been a snake and it had gone back into the bush.

One of the boys asked what it looked like and Foxy said "It was black with a yellow belly."

"Ah, a yellow-bellied black snake." The boy replied.

Classic Australiana.

Relaying this story to Hubby, he informed me that there is no such thing as a yellow-bellied black snake. With a bit of Googling I discovered that what we stumbled across was actually a tiger snake which is one of the most venomous snakes in the world. Well then!

Our walk went quite quickly after that and we found ourselves back at our campsite in no time. We got stuck into our lunch and watched as the wedding got into full swing. We'd been informed that the bridal car was something to watch out for, and sure enough, they rocked up in a baby blue combie. We both quite enjoyed watching the wedding from our campsite, not only because of the wedding, but because all these other people came and stood beside our campsite to watch from what could be considered a respectful distance. And while they stood around and had a geeze, we got to hear all the goss about the couple and about the campground. For two people who love people watching, this was the perfect way to spend the afternoon!

The Bridal Combie

Once the wedding had cleared off we headed back over to the beach to get in a bit of an ocean swim. The waves were crashing and the rip was pulling and it was just so damn refreshing! We had a bit of a play in the rocks again and then headed back to the campground for a shower before driving back into Lorne for dinner.

And then, after dinner, we came back to our campsite for a special treat. S'MORES!!!!! Honestly, this was the real reason I wanted to go camping. I hadn't had s'mores in years, and it had been even longer since I'd had them the traditional way: marshmallows roasted in a camp fire. I'd brought graham crackers and jet puffed marshmallows back from Canada on my last trip out there and had been eagerly awaiting an opportunity to get myself around a camp fire to bust them out.

We were at a bit of a disadvantage with roasting the marshmallows as we didn't have a proper stick to put them on and were using bamboo skewers instead. This meant that we had to be pretty close to the fire, which meant we got faces full of smoke. So there were none of the golden brown artisan marshmallows of my youth, but we made due. I was very happy to get to share the wonderous glory of s'mores with Foxy. You can't get graham crackers in Australia, so they're not really a thing here. It would be a source of much sadness for them, if only they knew what they were missing out on.

S'MORES!!!!!

Once we had stuffed ourselves with s'mores it was off to bed, where sleep was interrupted by obnoxious teenage boys and a coughing/crying baby. Sunday morning we were greeted with the familiar sounds of shrieking children, signalling that it was time for us to get up and pack up the campsite and make our way back to Melbourne. We made a good team getting everything sorted and it wasn't long before we were ready to hit the road again. We stopped in Lorne one last time for brunch (at the most Melbourne-esque cafe we could find) and then joined the scores of weekend holidayers making their way back to the city. I was a much more confident driver by this point, and the drive home was pretty uneventful, the highlight being us taking a more direct route than suggested by the GPS and listening to her mispronounced 'recalculating'.

All in all, my first Aussie camping adventure was a big success! I got to drive, I saw some marsupials, I slept in a tent, I didn't get eaten alive by bugs (though I did coat myself in a fair bit of DEET), I had a close encounter with a snake, I got to make motherfucking S'MORES!, I built a camp fire, I swam in the ocean, I went on a bushwalk, and most importantly, I got to spend an amazing weekend away with Foxy. I can't wait to do it all again!

A Place To Call Homo

Often when I write one of these blogs I save it to do a final read over later before publishing. Well! Nearly a month ago I wrote a blog about the stress of house hunting, but as November was the most insanely busy month of my life, by the time I could get back to it we'd already found a place and I had to start packing. And now that I finally am getting back to it, we're all moved in and I've handed over the keys to my old apartment!

So, let me catch you up...

Early on in our friendship, Trouble and I started tossing around the idea of getting a place together. Every now and then we'd look into it, but after a few days of excitement we'd drop our new play thing and get back to our lives. I had decided a while ago that I'd move house at/towards the end of my PhD, and when I chose my last flatmate, a major draw was that she only wanted temporary accommodation. Her boyfriend is overseas, and when he returns they'll be getting a place together. I decided that I would stay on here until he came back, and then find somewhere cheaper to live. Before I left for Canada we talked about when that might be and agreed to move at the start of December.

My plan was to just find a room in an existing share house and sell off all my excess furniture, but of course I let Trouble know that I'd soon be looking for a new place to live. Well! The stars had finally aligned! She was ready to move on from her place too. We started checking out different places online and getting a sense of what we both wanted from our new home (something which has been remarkably easy since we agree on pretty much everything). We're both over the moon about finally getting a place together to make our own little queer, sex positive, clothing optional, clean and tidy, haven!

The original plan was to find a decently sized 3 bedroom house in the inner west, because, such things exist both in abundance and for very cheap. While we've both been really excited about the move, the idea of changing suburbs caused us a fair amount of anxiety. My life is very firmly established in Brunswick; I regularly spend my weekend catching up with people on a whim, something that is easy to do given that almost all my friends live within 3 km of me. Plus I've got my gym, my yoga instructor, my Pilates studio... But a new suburb would invite new adventures, and Trouble was quite keen on moving out west.

I swear to Swimming Pool, it was the moment that I'd finally made peace with the idea of leaving Brunswick that Trouble said to me SHE was really anxious about leaving Brunswick and would much prefer to stay! Well, fuck! Cue the search for an affordable 3 bedroom house in the Brunswick area...

While such houses are abundant out west, they are almost non-existent in Brunswick. Comparatively, they are smaller and more rent than what we would get out west. Of course, that is because even though TuPac claims the west side is the best side, Brunswicked is where it's at! In our search, we came across 3 houses that were only marginally over our budget. The first one we'd found out about too late, the second one was only a block up the street from my apartment, and the third one practically shared a wall with my new girlfriend's house - and she was furious we were even considering it!

When we inspected the second house, Trouble was quite taken with it. I thought it was shabby, run down, and too small and was less than thrilled about it, even though I love the location. Well, it turns out that Joni doesn't know everything! It took us a week to get our application together, but almost as soon as we'd sent it in, the real estate agent rang me up to see if we were still interested. We were approved so fast that I didn't even have a chance to get crazily stressed out about where we would live! We didn't even get around to applying for anywhere else.

We picked up the keys on Dec 1st, which just so happened to be Trouble and I's 1 year friendiversary, and have spent the past 9 days getting ourselves settled into the space. While it is an old house and a bit shabby, it's amazing how the space has transformed once we got our stuff into it! It goes to show that a bit of personality goes a long way! The front bedrooms had really hideous blue feature walls and Trouble suggested we paint them a light grey. I didn't have the time to paint, but she sorted it all out and now the rooms look fantastic!

I've got a bigger room than I had, and as we've got more space in the house, I'm also able to keep less stuff in my bedroom, making the space much more open than I'm used to. I'm resisting the urge to fill it back up with furniture, though the urge is strong! We have a really cute front courtyard, and a bright, jungly rear courtyard with a really productive fig tree. We have a kitchen with enough space to eat in, a separate lounge, and, possibly my favourite bit, a long corridor with 3 rooms: the toilet, the bath/shower, and the laundry room! The house is bright and welcoming but is also quite private. It's much more spacious than I thought it would be. We're still figuring out how best to use the space, but it's gotten to the more finicky stuff like: where best to keep the cleaning supplies and our toiletries.

There is more furniture to get. Trouble and I both need a swag of things from IKEA for our rooms, plus we could do with a few things from Bunnings. We've got to sort out a bigger fridge than the one I have at some point, and get a household internet connection established. We also need some couches for the front, since it's just the perfect space for sipping beers in the evening sun! And we'll get stuff up on the walls, give the house our special blend of pizzazz.

Now, it is a 3 bedroom house, and that means we're looking for a third to join our crew! We've decided that we want to spend December getting ourselves established into the house first, and then January we both have people visiting, so we're not in a big rush to find the third person. There's been some interest and Trouble and I are in talks about what exactly we want in a third housemate, and happily are thus far very much on the same page. Hopefully finding our third will be just as painless as finding our new house was!

For all my initial reluctance about this place, now that I'm in the space, I'm absolutely loving it! I had no sadness about handing in the keys to my old apartment, and I thought that I would. It was actually a big relief when I finished cleaning it and knew I didn't need to go back again. That's probably helped by the fact that it's been on the market for sale and having people through for inspections has been really annoying.

I'm really excited about starting this new chapter of my life. I'm excited for summer, for getting the house set up, for attempting to garden, for Trouble getting us a juicer (!!!), for my family coming to visit, for choosing our third, for finishing my thesis (eventually), for making preserves from the various fruit trees, for just about everything in my life right now really!

Remembering Professor Smith

Earlier this week one of my colleagues at ARCSHS passed away. He had been seriously ill for some time, but his death was still a surprise to us all. Although I wasn't particularly close with Anthony, I've been quite affected by his death - more so than I thought I would be - and I want to take a few moments to reflect upon what he meant to me.

I moved to Australia nearly 5 years ago to do my PhD. I didn't choose Australia for the sun or the beaches, I didn't choose Melbourne for the culture or the shopping. I came here because I wanted to be a part of a truly amazing organisation: The Australian Research Centre in Sex, Health and Society. It is because of Anthony Smith that ARCSHS exists.

Anthony and I didn't have a lot to do with each other; I know him more through his interactions with my friends than through my own interactions with him. Although ARCSHS has evolved into a lively, social centre, Anthony was well known for being something of a hermit, hiding out in his office whilst everyone else gathered for cake, only to appear at the last moment to snag a piece and disappear off again. Most of my interactions with him have been passing him as he had a smoke out the front of the building while I made my way into the office. It was a sad realisation when I came in this morning to know I won't be passing him by anymore; him looking away to avoid idle chitchat, me looking away to avoid being called out at rocking up to uni at 11am.

Another thing that Anthony was known for was his rather fearless ability to stand up for what he believed in and tell anyone stupid enough to stand in his way exactly where they could go! While I'd always known that side of him existed, it wasn't until last year when ARCSHS was faced with sever budget and staff cuts (due to the incompetence of people entirely outside of ARCSHS) that I actually saw him in action. For a man who was otherwise so quiet, when he was passionate about something, he sure could roar! I don't think I realised how much he really cared about all of us at ARCSHS until witnessing that showdown! It should come as no surprise that I admire a person who can not only call someone an idiot to their face, but go into painstaking details as to why they are an idiot, all whilst having abuse hurled back at them. I do enjoy the 'head on' approach to confrontation!!

The one professional interaction I did have with Anthony is something I will always remember, as it was a formative experience for me as an academic. I was just a year into my PhD and had to present and defend my research proposal to everyone at ARCSHS. After I'd finished my presentation and the floor was opened up for questions, Anthony came out swinging! It very well might have been the first time I'd ever heard him speak - certainly it was the first time he'd ever spoken to me. He was critical of my research design and although the experience was confrontational, I handled it professionally and took his criticisms as a challenge to push myself to do better. And I've been thankful for his criticisms every day since! Because of him I completely revised my research design and have produced an innovative piece of research that I am very proud of.

ARCSHS is a very supportive, non competitive environment. Although we all work across quite a wide range of fields and projects, we work together to strengthen each other. I've always felt like I can approach anyone here to bounce ideas off of - whether they are engaged with my work or not. And I have enjoyed having others approach me to do the same. We are all very lucky at ARCSHS; this is not the norm for academic environments. Academia involves people working really hard to put together their ideas and knowledge to present to others, for others to engage with critically. Even at its best, this experience can be quite confronting and feel like a personal attack. It's not a field for the faint of heart! Anthony's challenge to my work was the moment that I knew I could hack it as an academic.

Pretty much anyone who has had the opportunity to be a part of ARCSHS will tell you that it is much more than a work place; it's a community. And for many of us, it's family. My first couple of years here, I didn't know many people outside of ARCSHS. My friends and family were a long ways away, but whenever I came into ARCSHS I felt like I was at home. The people here, the culture of the centre, made me feel not like I'd left home, but like I'd come home. None of that would have been possible without Anthony Smith and I will always remember him for that.

Over the years I've slowly managed to coax Anthony in the occasional jovial interaction, as we passed each other in the stairwell, in the kitchen, or in the corridor. And last year I finally got to engage with him one-on-one! We were hosting our Christmas party in Flagstaff Gardens, and this involved transporting rather a lot of food and beverages from our office to the park - a short distance away. Somehow Anthony and I found ourselves co-carting an impressive array of salads over the bumpy terrain of Franklin St, across the chaos of William St, and through the twists and turns of Flagstaff Gardens. I don't remember what we talked about during this at most 5 minute voyage, but I do remember that I relished every moment of getting him to engage in a social situation that called for idle chitchat!

While it is very sad to lose someone who has made such incredible contributions to the fields of sexual health and sexuality studies more broadly, it is a privilege to be able to continue his legacy onwards. Every day I feel honoured and proud to be a part of ARCSHS. My thoughts and sympathies go out to Anthony's partner, family, friends, colleagues, and students.

Entitlement

About a month ago Trouble and I met up for a rainy afternoon breakfast stack at one of our favourite cafes and had a good, long, intellectual talk about Life Stuff. She was telling me that on her way to meet up with me a car full of men had been yelling and honking to get her attention. When she finally realised they were honking at her, for no other reason than to express their sexual interest in her, she was pretty pissed off and told them to fuck off. As well she should! This is a frighteningly common experience for women. But what is really frightening is how bad women are made to feel about themselves when it happens.

Welcome to slut shaming 201. Today's topic is 'entitlement', or more specifically (since there are more forms of entitlement than I can shake a stick at) sexual entitlement. There is a part of me that wants to qualify that further and say male sexual entitlement, but this is a problem that is more complicated than simply being men's fault. Blaming men for entitlement isn't really any better than blaming women for rape. Patriarchy and misogyny know no gender bounds.

So what is sexual entitlement? It is the belief that a person's sexual desire for another person gives them the right to that person's body/mind/time. At this point I feel that it is important to note that while feelings of sexual entitlement are not exclusively the purview of men, given that men continue to have social dominance over women (broadly, yes I know this is not always the case) it is much more problematic when men feel sexually entitled to women's bodies/minds/time. It is also much more common that this is how sexual entitlement plays out.

The problem, as I see it, is that when it comes to sexuality, women are set up to fail. There is no possible way for women to 'win' if they play along with the patriarchy's rules. No matter what the situation, men's sexual desires trump women's. Three heterosexual examples (since I hate binaries and want to guide you gently through my argument; I will queer it up a bit later in this post) to illustrate my point:

1) A woman who abstains from sex until marriage, then marries a loving, respecting man is still expected to satisfy her husband's sexual desires over her own. She may be able to negotiate having her desires met, but there is no social expectation that her husband would have to negotiate getting his desires met.

2) A woman goes out to a party with the expressed intent of having casual sex. When she picks up a guy, there is a sexual script already in play that dictates the satisfaction of his sexual desires. If she is lucky, he will also satisfy her's. But again, there is no expectation on him to do so.

3) A woman walks into a brothel looking to buy the sexual services of a man. If she's done her research, she's gone into a brothel that actually provides such a service. If not, she may be met with ridicule and/or homophobia. Or maybe the brothel staff will be friendly and point her in the right direction. At any rate, she can't just walk into any brothel and purchase sexual service. I am not aware of the existence of any brothel that absolutely does not provide service to men.

Given that men's sexual desires hold more social value than women's, it is not surprising that sexual entitlement is so prominent. And unquestioned! I started writing this blog a month ago, and in that time I've been noticing sexual entitlement everywhere I look. In an earlier draft of this blog I had a long list of examples of times I've encountered something similar to the anecdote I started this blog with. I think most women could come up with a few personal examples pretty easily if you asked them. I'm not going to list off my experiences here, as I've decided to go in a bit of a different direction with this post, inspired by a recent night out with my siblings in Kelowna. I want to talk about what I think men don't realise; I want to talk about what happens to women when they encounter sexual entitlement.

I'm currently in Canada, visiting family, old friends, and working on my thesis. Right now I'm in Kelowna, soaking up the last of the summer sun. Last weekend, two of my siblings were out here with me and we decided to go have a bit of a night out on the town. I wasn't crazy about the first pub we went to; it was loud and very heteronormative (that is, everyone was heterosexual and seemed to be aspiring to social standards of 'normal'). We headed off to another pub where there was a local band playing. The crowd was still pretty hetero, but less normative. I was excited to find that not only was I not the only lesbian in the place, but the other lesbian was pretty darn cute!

I thought that she was there with a straight couple, but as the night went on I discovered that she was there with a female friend who some guy was hitting on (I discovered this, btw, when said guy tried to stick his hand down my shirt while giving me a very unsolicited hug - that's a very obvious example of sexual entitlement that I hope my readers don't need me to further deconstruct). When I told my brother that I thought the lesbian was really cute, he encouraged me to go talk to her. I said nah and continued to sit and listen to the band, occasionally glancing over towards the cute girl.

As the night went on and the cute girl made her way to the dance floor, my brother dragged me onto the dance floor and tried to push me over to go and 'mac on' the girl. At that point, I got really angry with him and told him if he didn't back off I would punch him. He backed off and I was left to scratch my head about why I reacted so strongly to him trying to be my wingman.

I'm not shy about hitting on girls. I like the chase and while I don't always initiate, I'm pretty upfront about my interest. Chances are, if you're wondering if I'm into you or not, I'm probably not into you.

Eventually, I realised what was bothering me about my brother's approach: it reeked of sexual entitlement. It seemed that for my brother, my thinking the girl was cute was reason enough for me to go talk to her. In this framing, my desire for her gave me the right to access her mental/physical/emotional space - or at least the right to try. But for me, having been on the receiving end of unwanted sexual attention far, far, too many times, I didn't feel that my desire for this woman gave me any right to her at all.

I think that there is this big misconception that being hit on is a nice experience. Sure, it can be nice. If you want it to happen. But if you don't, it can be horrible. Even if the person doing the hitting on isn't horrible; even if they are, in fact, pleasant, it can still be a horrible experience. This is because of the social protocol that deems it rude not to talk to someone when they initiate a conversation with you, and the gender differential that is at play. For a man to blow someone off, he is simply being rude in that instance. If a woman does it, even once, she is forever a bitch.

Women face a lot more social pressure than men to engage in conversations with anyone who decides to talk to them - whether they want to or not. This means, when you hit on a woman, she may not be talking to you because she wants to, but because she is socially obliged to! So please, everybody, think about that the next time you decide to strike up a conversation with a woman, whatever your intent.

The reason I didn't want to go up to this woman and strike up a conversation with her was that while I was sitting at my table watching her, she wasn't watching me back. I wasn't leering at her, but I also wasn't being subtle about the fact that she had caught my eye. If she had been interested in me, it would have been easy for her to make eye contact with me. That she didn't told me that she just wanted to hang out with her friend and enjoy the night, and I can (and did) respect that.

I did contemplate doing one of my favourite moves: the toilet queue chat. There is a lot of solidarity about women's toilets and the secret business that goes on in them. It is quite easy and acceptable to strike up a conversation with someone while waiting for the toilets, and it is also a space that if you are not interested in talking, it's easy and safe to signal your disinterest in a conversation. It's a great way to break the ice with someone and get a sense of if they are interested in having a chat or not. Of course, a willingness to have a chat does not equate a desire to be hit on; it's more that if they're not interested in talking to you in the toilets, they're not interested in talking to you. As I didn't have the chance to try this move, and she had not paid me any particular attention, I felt it would be incredibly presumptuous of me to strike up a conversation with her on the dance floor.

The thing with sexual entitlement - and entitlement in general - is, I think a lot of people are really unaware of when they are acting from a place of privilege, and how that privilege impacts on others. And I also don't think that people are aware of the accumulative affect of entitlement. Because, yeah, a single instance of a bit of unwanted flirting is probably not going to cause someone a great deal of grief. But while it might be a single instance for the person doing the flirting, chances are it's not a single instance for the person on the receiving end. Your single instance may just be the straw that broke the camel's back.

I remember my straw. Back when I worked in an adult store, I had a guy come in one day and tell me that I looked very pretty. He wasn't being lewd or particularly aggressive, and his comment was incredibly tame compared to many of the other men who felt they had some sort of right to comment on me as a sexual being when they came into the store. His comment would have been sweet if it had come from someone I trusted. But he was an older man, a stranger, and the only other person in the store with me, and I did not feel safe being alone in the store - in the middle of the day - with a man who felt it was not only acceptable but innocuous to sexualise me.

I'm not the kind of person to let something like that slide, so I informed him that I did not find his comment appropriate. This made matters much worse because then he felt like he needed to justify himself, and the only way he could do this was by vilifying me. There was nothing wrong with him and what he did; it was my problem, my fault that I couldn't "take a compliment." If I didn't want to be complimented on my appearance, I shouldn't put any effort into looking professional. Nevermind that my employers required it of me, or, more importantly, that it made me feel good about myself. Apparently the only reason a woman puts any effort into her appearance is to invite the attentions of men, and she should be damn grateful when she gets them! Eventually he left the store. I ended up quitting my job - which I loved - over this, and how the company refused to deal with it.

This is what happens when we construct reality in terms of binaries: a person's disinterest in someone's sexual advances becomes a personal insult. When a person is insulted, they have to defend themselves, usually by pointing out how the other person is wrong to be insulted. There is a term for this, it's called 'victim blaming'.

But why should a person's disinterest in someone's sexual advances be taken personally? I wasn't personally insulted when the woman at the bar didn't show any interest in me. I don't actually think it has anything to do with me. She wasn't looking, and it would be insulting of me to assume that she should be.

Confrontation makes a lot of people uncomfortable. I think there's this cultural assumption that women are a lot more uncomfortable with confrontation than men are, but I think if that was true then slut shaming and victim blaming wouldn't even be things. These are tool that are used against women (by men and women) to uphold sexual entitlement. Because it's when women stand up for themselves - when they are confrontational - that they risk encountering slut shaming and/or victim blaming.

Let me take a step back here to talk about our social understandings of how women are meant to negotiate sex. On the one hand, women are told - ad nauseam - to just say 'no' to sex. On the other hand, women are told that they are horrible people if they reject someone. You know, because it is a woman's job to make everyone else feel good about themselves and nevermind about how she feels about herself. So when a woman is faced with a sexual advance, she's faced with a catch-22 situation. She's not meant to say yes because that makes her a slut, but if she says no she'll hurt the other person's feelings and that makes her a bitch. What to do, what to do? For a lot of women, the result is a complex game of avoidance.

Going back to my experience at the adult shop, it was the very innocuousness of that man's comment that made the experience so upsetting for me. He was paying me a compliment; and as he was not in clear violation of social norms, he could not understand why I would be upset by his compliment. It was much easier to deal with men who knew they were overstepping their bounds because they understood that if they didn't respect my 'no' they were in the wrong. Their actions may have been a lot more explicit, but my rights to be offended by their actions were also a lot clearer.

It's these smaller experiences that are a lot harder to avoid, and a lot harder to negotiate. I feel like there is some sort of confrontation/entitlement binary/blind spot happening in society. Some people feel that they are entitled to make sexual advances onto others, but then forget that the person they make the advance on is entitled to tell them to fuck off. And when they get told to fuck off, they feel like how dare this person feel entitled to put them in a confrontational situation, but ignore the fact that it was actually them who put the other person in a confrontational situation - and what right did they have themselves to do that?

I feel like I'm starting to spin out here, so hopefully I'm not losing you along the way. The point that I'm trying to make is, I don't think people are often aware of when they are putting someone into a confrontational situation. And I think that women get put into confrontational situations a lot, and that society does not adequately prepare women for how to manage these situations. I also think that men are not put into confrontational situations nearly enough. And I think that for everybody who gets put into a confrontational situation - whatever the situation and whatever their gender - there is far too great a tendency to try and get out of the situation by placing the blame on somebody else.

So if I can leave you with a few takeaway points, it's this:

1) Think before you act. Consider how your actions might impact on the other person, and try to think of at least 3 possible outcomes, because there are always more than two options.

2) Learn to be comfortable with your own discomfort. Nobody likes being told they are in the wrong, but before you jump in to defend yourself, consider the possibility that maybe the other person has a point.

3) Question your assumptions. What makes it OK for you to behave in a certain way? Are you sure? Is that always the case? What might happen if you behaved differently?

4) Look out for nonverbal cues. Most people are pretty crap about communicating with their words. It's not their (or our, since I am certainly not exempt from this!) fault; as a society we're pretty crap at teaching people how to communicate, and we tend to penalise those who do. Especially women. Understand this.

5) Be aware of and listen to your instincts. If you feel uncomfortable in a situation, there probably is a good reason for it, whether it's apparent or not. If you sense that someone else is uncomfortable in a situation, address it! Remember point 4. Sometimes you'll have to be the one to start the hard conversations, even when it's the other person who's got the issue.

I have so, so, so, much more to say on this, but that is enough for Part Two. I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this, and writing Part Three when next the mood strikes. Until next time...

Without Country

I put off coming back to Canada for a long time. Historically, it's not a place I've enjoyed being. As I've often said, it may be where I'm from, but it's not my home. Melbourne is my home, whether I stay there or not. But no matter how many times I said it, the reality always was that I am a Canadian citizen, and whenever I enter into Canada, I'm always returning 'home'.

So imagine my surprise when I rocked up to Calgary and the customs officer told me that for immigration purposes I was not a resident of Canada, but a visitor!

While that is certainly how I feel about being back in Canada, it is also a little unnerving because it means that I am a woman without a country. I am in some sort of immigration twilight zone where my status changes depending on who asks and why. My Canadian citizenship is pretty meaningless given that I currently don't have a single piece of government issued Canadian identification (I am between passports, as it were). I don't have any health insurance here; I didn't get travel insurance because I didn't think I was really a 'traveler', but in retrospect, that might have been a good idea. I am not an Australian citizen; I am a temporary resident. And although I live there and my life is established there, my residence can be taken away from me if I don't follow the rules.

It's been interesting being back. It seems like it's not just Canada Customs that sees me as a visitor here; my family do too. I expected to go back to my Mom's and be expected to pick up all my old chores again, but it seems that in the last few years they've figured out how to keep the kitchen clean without me. It's been a much more relaxed trip than I had expected, just being a visitor. The expectations and responsibilities that I've felt get put onto me (which I do not want) have not felt so intense. I don't know if it's me or them, probably it's both. I've been gone a long time, everyone's gotten used to me not being around. And we're all older, and I'm certainly calmer, more centred in who I am.

Much to my surprise, I'm having fun! I like being here! I'm a bit sad that I'm only staying for a month! And I'm glad that I'll be back next year!

I was only in Calgary for a few days, and I had a lot of stuff to do at my Mom's, so the full experience of being back hasn't really hit me. But people seem more relaxed. I don't know, maybe it's the weather. Summer is just coming to an end here, and the weather has been pretty spectacular. My Dad's new place in Kelowna is freggin' amazing! I'm totally over my "let's meet in the middle and go to Hawaii" business; I'm all about Kelowna now! Even if I get mistaken for a heterosexual because there's no real queer culture here, and there's heaps of religious nutballs running around town with anti-choice propaganda. The city is gorgeous, the house is incredible, and the shopping is ace! I totally forgot that Kelowna is the place to buy vintage hats. AND, my favourite store here is still rocking it 3 years later! Plus, I found the dyke shoes of my dreams and had a total broment with the sales guy (he has shoes just like the ones I got, only black and kinda different, but the loves is just as intense).

It's been amazing catching up with my family. I'm glad that my Mom and stepdad are coming out to Vancouver with me so we can spend some more time together. I'm glad I got to spend a few days with my stepsister and go horseback riding and have girl talk til the wee hours of the morning. She really amazes me with how insightful and switched on she is. That girl gets life in a big way! And it's been fun hanging out with my brother, who is about to move into his own place and enter the world of no money and hand washed dishes. I'm very excited for him. I'm sad that my baby brother isn't here, but happy for him because he's off at uni on a football scholarship. I'm glad I'll get to see him next year. And I'm having fun with my Dad and stepmom. It's just going to be the three of us as of tomorrow; and then in a week it'll just be me and Dad. And my thesis. Which is about to re-emerge in my life in all her abusive, controlling splendour. sigh

It's nice to know that although I may be without country, I'm certainly not lacking for love. Here or in Melbourne. I don't know that I'll come back every year, but I don't think I'll put off my visits for so long in the future. Maybe there is a bit of 'home' left for me in Canada after all.

A Decade In Reflection

Hello Readers!

First off, my last blog about slut shaming has gotten a really awesome response, so THANK YOU to everyone who read it and to everyone who has since given me food for thought on the topic. I've been having heaps of really engaging conversations/debates on this topic and readings lots of other blogs and am really excited to continue exploring this issue!!! I've had about a million different thoughts and ideas for blog posts and I look forward to having the time to develop those.

But for now, I'd like to talk about something else: on Friday I am turning 30. I'm actually really excited about this. Maybe because this big life milestone is also lining up with other big life milestones... I've almost finished my thesis! Not only that, but my life has actually become the thing that I've always wanted it to be. I am independent, I lead an interesting life, and I am surrounded by people who love and respect me for who I am - flaws and all. And that's pretty fucking awesome!

I've been reflecting on the past ten years and the strange twists and turns my life has taken, wondering what 20 year old Joni would think if she knew where she'd end up in 10 years time. I doubt she'd ever have thought she'd end up with the dubious (*ahem* self-appointed) title of "Australia's leading expert on how to use social media to be a douche in intimate relationships" but I bet she wouldn't be all that surprised either. I've always wanted to be a cyborg.

The one thing that 20 year old Joni wanted so much for herself was to be a fiercely-independent-world-travelling-trend-setter. I reckon I've done her proud. I was thinking about this recently, what with my big trip back to Canada coming up. In the past 10 years - that is, 120 months - I have only lived in Calgary for 43 months, and a total of 55 months in Canada. I've lived in Ottawa, Amsterdam, and Melbourne. I've travelled to Thailand, Belgium, France, Germany, Denmark, Sweden, Poland, England, Portugal, Czech Republic, the USA, Peru, and South Korea. I haven't made it back to Africa or Japan, but that just gives me something to do in my 30s.

My 20s weren't all good; I struggled with depression for most of them. But now I have the knowledge and the tools to manage it, and it no longer rules my life. Not only do I know that 'it gets better', I know how to make it better. I'm very thankful to have so many supportive friends who are there for me when I need them. But I'm also very thankful to myself, for all the hard work I've put in to making my life what it is now. I hear people say sometimes "Oh, you're so lucky to have all these opportunities." Well... yeah, some of the things I've gotten to do with my life have been because I'm lucky enough to have rather a lot of social privilege. But I've also taken that privilege and worked really fucking hard to do something productive with it!

It's funny, so many people get freaked out about turning 30, but it just fills me with joy. I feel more youthful now than I think I actually ever have. And that's because I feel free.

When I was younger I felt like there would be all these unpleasant consequences to just being myself and living my life how I wanted to live it... I think a lot of people feel like there is a particular 'script' that they are meant to follow and that bad things will happen if they don't. But you know what? The bad things happen when you try to live a life that you don't want for yourself. Yeah, it can be hard to go against the grain. Yeah, probably a lot of people will want you to justify yourself to them. But really, you've only got to justify your actions to yourself. If you're happy with yourself and how you act towards others, then who cares what anyone else thinks? And if you're not happy, then what are you going to do to change that?

I understand that expression now: "If only I knew what I know now when I was younger..." I don't want to go back in time and sit down and impart younger Joni with this knowledge though. She wouldn't listen anyways; she likes to figure things out for herself. I get that. I think if I could sit down with my younger self and tell her one thing, I'd tell her that I respect her for that. She'd like that. I have a lot of respect for the person that I was, because she made me into the person that I am today. And I really like that person. A lot!

crazy thesis eye + orange chocolate mud cake