Last week, I posted a quote from Wendy Shalit’s Girls Gone Mild. In many ways, the book speaks to me, especially about the pressure to be sexy from peers and media. Shalit encourages young women, telling them that they don’t have to bow to the pressure, that they don’t have to engage in sexual activity if they don’t feel ready or comfortable. Women can choose, and sometimes that choice is not the one expected from their peers.
But I have since finished the book, and I am now left with very ambivalent feelings about its contents and its author. While I do agree that women of all ages should have the right to dress how they would like, have sex in ways and with whom they would like, I don’t agree with some of the reasoning behind the new “good girl” script.
Shalit says that premature exposure to sex ruins the mystique and passion that sexual and romantic relationships have later in life. I would say that premature exposure to sex is a form of abuse. (Personal anecdote: I have found each relationship—sexual, romantic, or both—in my adult life to be new and interesting; I learned from every one.) More irritating is her belief that there is only one healthy relationship model: monogamy. (Many know how much I disagree.) But what really ruffles my feathers is that Shalit equates modesty with self-respect and high standards, and promiscuity with confusion and low expectations.
The hell?
What happened to the idea that empowered emotionally-healthy women are the ones who make their own choices? To have self-respect, I have to dress modestly and abstain from sex?
So far, whenever I mentioned the book by its title, I have left out its subtitle, It’s Not Bad to Be Good. We haven’t gotten past the cover, and already we are thrown into two distinct mores of “bad” and “good”. The “bad girl” is hip, popular, and has lots of sex without emotional attachment. The “good girl” is ridiculed, forced into behaviours she dislikes, all because she wants to wait for an emotional commitment to have sex. The bad girl is well-loved but lacks self-love. The good girl is not loved because she loves herself.
I repeat: The hell?
Sure, promiscuity is a symptom of depression, but lots of sex doesn’t cause mood disorders or low self-esteem. (Correlation is not causation!) But just as important as misinterpreted statistics (or maybe even more) is the idea that “good girls” and “bad girls” act only in certain ways.
And, of course, it’s all tied to sex.
The NY Times recently printed an article on purity balls. For those not in the know, purity balls are formal ceremonies where fathers and daughters share dinner and dance to bond with one another. At these ceremonies, daughters vow to remain chaste and “pure” until marriage—so they aren’t “sullied” for their future husbands—and fathers vow to protect their daughters’ honor and virginity.
The horror behind purity balls is the objectification of young women. Their worth is only measured by their virginity—their “purity”. But not only are young women only defined and valued by sex, they need protection from the corrupting, confusion influence of the outside world. Randy Wilson, organiser of a purity ball, tells the attending men:
The fucking hell?
Yes, everyone needs their fathers, but no one needs to be “rescued”. Young women can’t make their own decisions? We can’t understand what is best for us? Aren’t we also intelligent, independent human beings who have the ability to define ourselves?
Young women—or rather, our virgin “purities”—do not need protection. What we need are people who don’t limit “good” and “bad” to only two definitions. We need people who tell us that “good” and “bad” is not about sex. We need people who tell us that self-worth is not tied to “sexual purity”. We need people who tell us it’s about being informed, making your own decisions. It’s about having the strength to define yourself.
I’m sure that Wendy Shalit and Randy Wilson have the best intentions for young women. But their messages aren’t entirely honest. Their new scripts are supposed to be refreshing and rebellious in a period of sexualisation, but these new “female-positive” messages are merely rehashes of the same old script: Women can only be valued by sex, or lack thereof.
Well said m’dear. It’s fascinating, and disheartening, how polarized this whole discussion continues to be.
Polarised? How do you mean?
It’s always either “sex = bad” or “sex = good”. How about “sex = sex”? Like many things, it’s what you make of it.
I suppose I can’t really argue against a feminist interpretation of purity balls and the like. Pitting interpretation against interpretation doesn’t really do much to advance the conversation. In fact, I can’t really comment on Shalit’s book since I haven’t read it.
But here’s a question in response to your post:
Do you feel it is an incongruity to rally against disempowering messages of sexual purity, while concurrently advocating the abandonment of moral absolutes (e.g. definitions of ‘good’ & ‘bad’)?
My take is that if the distinctions between good and bad are abandoned, then whether a message of ’sexual purity’ is empowering or disempowering matters little. If we abandon the distinctions, then I think the participants and Shalit’s responses to you would be, ’so what if the messages conveyed are disempowering? We are simply making informed decisions with regards to our self-worth as we have opted to define it for ourselves.’
But your point seems to be that the messages advocated by Shalit and the purity balls do not empower women and that this absence of empowerment is somehow a bad thing. I don’t think you can make this claim absent some reliance on moral absolutes as a distinct definition.
The Internet ate my reply! But that means this time I’ll be less long-winded. (But I doubt that since brevity is not one of my strengths.)
You caught me! I did not mean to advocate the removal of moral standards. I do not believe that in the least (even for a moderate relativist like me). But I understand that my words may have given that impression. After reading your comment, I spotted an example and quickly edited it (second to last paragraph: instead of “distinct definitions”, it now reads “only two definitions”). Further edits require more read-throughs. Can’t say that I’m a perfect writer. Many blog entries are first drafts.
I’ve drafted many responses to your comment, and I’ve discarded each one because it doesn’t address your question (and because I ramble). Then I realised that I couldn’t provide a proper answer because I don’t believe that Shalit’s opinions or purity balls are necessarily disempowering (even if I disagree with the principles); I believe that they aren’t honest. (Edited in entry.) Abstinence as the path of purity? Promiscuity leads to depression and low self-esteem? (Remember: Symptom, not cause.) Lack of sex is good. Sex is bad unless it’s with a monogamous partner you love. Why is one “bad” and the other “good”? Is there a middle ground? (I believe so.) It’s not about discarding these definitions; it’s about expanding them.
I believe that abstinence as purity and high standards is a lie, just as calling casual sex empowering and freeing is a lie. (Sex and the City can bite me in that regard.) Do what you want. Go participate in purity balls. Go have lots of sex. Just realise those choices for what they are: Your own choices. That’s what’s important, not this “good” and “bad” nonsense or what society - or anyone else - says about sex. Empowerment comes from the person, not from the activity.