First, here are the only three things I think are appropriate to never tell your boyfriend:
#1. If you have been an accessory to any murders or a large scale robberies.#2. If you are an alien.#3. If you have been selected for a makeover reality show– do you seriously want to ruin a surprise like that?!?
Ok, with that said, I am about to rant. I am going to do this with my words. I want each noun to be a bitchslap and each adverb to be a disappointed look from a betrayed mother. This mother is the figure of feminism herself and she is listening to Lorde and sitting on her throne made of maxi pads knit together with Beyoncé’s hair. She rolls her eyes and sighs frustratedly. Mother Feminism then gestures to a gilded frame of Leslie Knope and angrily, impatiently asks (in what I imagine to be Laura Prepon’s voice) if women are still ashamed of their bodies. Then she farts in the direction of Bill O’Reilly’s face and promptly she excuses herself to attend her Google+ chat with Ellen DeGeneres (they like to use the special effects).
Mother Feminism and I are acquainted, but she knows that like many women quirkily skipping their way through a liberal arts education, I’m not sure if I would call myself a feminist simply because I would call myself somewhat ill informed about gender studies and current events.
Jamie Blynn’s article “15 Things You Should Never Tell Your Boyfriend” makes me very sure that I am a feminist. It wedges its strappy-heeled implications right up into the same part of my brain that sets off an automatic kick-in-the-gonads response for when I hear people misuse the term “retarded.” It creates this unnecessary divide between the sexes that I thought we had solved in the inspirational finale of She’s the Man! The fact that the seminal sleepover film is based on Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night and seems to handle gender in a more liberal sense illustrates just how dated Blynn’s opinions are.
This article is not meant as an attack on the author. I’m not looking to put Blynn down because you know there’s a special place in hell for me if I do. In all seriousness, I’m not looking to single her out by pointing a bullying, patronizing self-righteous finger in her direction. The author is less to blame than her culture or environment. Here are three ways the “15 Things” article perpetrates assumptions about gender that should be myths, therefore contradicting the feminist agenda HerCampus claims to support:
Myth #1: Women’s Bodies are GrossI will be the first to admit that I like to write about bathroom functions. A lot. I am less fascinated with literal bodily byproducts though they are hilarious, and more with the silences people impose on the subject. Comedy ensues from the prudishness of a society that cannot admit that (to use unfunny medical terms) defecation and urination represent a part of everyday life that is universal, no matter how famous you are. Sexism follows when society suggests it’s A-OK for a man to belch up Sam Adams while watching the game, but that in mixed gendered company a woman must be a perfect perfumed princesses and never even think about allowing a fart to escape from her Ann Taylor capris during a book club discussion about The Help.
Last year I wrote what I maturely branded a “research pooper” on scatalogical humor in Chaucer for a medieval english class. I learned that Chaucer sees some women as lovely virginal idealized princesses on magic pedestals that forbid the emissions or discussions of bodily functions as unladylike or as nasty, while others are leaky, hysterical messes with extra holes for the devil to inhabit.
Although written by a woman hundreds of years later, Blynn’s article retains that same dated ideology. She jokes that while a boyfriend “knows you go…he doesn’t need to know you go.” Would it disgust him to find out that his girlfriend’s body works the same way his does? Would he feel better if said girlfriend felt ashamed of her body’s natural functions? Comedian and general genius Sarah Haskins notes the “poopadox” inherent in adding yet another normal aspect of the female body to the ‘fix this’ list.
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Myth #2– Men are from Stupid Weenie Town, Women are from BitchvilleFrom what I understand about boyfriends, the point of them is to have someone bound by the heartwarmingly restrictive ties of love to answer that 3am call, no matter what the details. I do realise now that I am also describing that one Hillary Clinton ad, making her my backup late night call contact. Regardless, if a boyfriend can’t handle a little irritable bowel real-talk, than what is the point of having one? As argued previously, the article prudishly tiptoes around the reconciliation of femininity and bodily functions, arguing that “dirty details” should be discussed with “girlfriends.” Give a guy some credit here! I am willing to bet that as an adult on this planet, most men have heard worse than some petty constipation complaints.
Blynn also notes that since “guys can be simple-minded,” they won’t notice if a bra is padded. I can probably use my own gendered stereotypes to assume that if there’s one thing straight men know a lot about, it’s boobs. If, as women, we should continue Blynn’s policy of over simplifying and dumbing down the other sex to somehow further the feminist cause, we should at least insult men on a level farther from their turf. That’s right, we’re going right back to girls rule, boys drool.
The “15 Things” article also lacks originality in by depicting stereotypical stock faults of women. I mean, as sexually liberated ladies, aren’t we tired of being portrayed as shallow, conniving femme fatales plotting to defy sensitive boys’ claims on us, thereby callously breaking their hearts because GIRLS ARE CRAZY? Blynn’s suggestion that women make comments like “You know, you’re physically not my type” or “my friends and family…think I can do like, way better” or even “I get hit on all the time. I breathe and guys swarm” often enough to be told off for it characterizes all ladies as the queens of some kind of superficial power play. One minute a woman has that “evil glimmer,” as Blynn calls it, and the next she’s some kind of man-catching Aquaman, assembling the men in the surrounding area around her with one exhale.
Myth #3 Equal Pay Can’t Buy LoveBlynn suggests that admitting you “definitely make more money” than your partner is a relationship ender because it counts as bragging. If your boyfriend thinks that the simple fact that you are shattering the glass ceiling like an opera singer hitting that note in cartoons amounts to “[kissing] your relationship goodbye,” then you should dump him first and flaunt your excess income by buying this jetpack and mooning him at his unimpressive, lower paying job. Extra points if his office is at least 10 floors up.
Myth #4: If You Want to Talk about Menstruation, Get Back in the TentWhile “15 Things” mentions talking about periods in health class as part of an adolescent’s school of hard knocks, it holds the process at arms length. Yes, I’m not wild about the fact that once a month what is essentially a boxed cake mix to make a baby exits my body. It’s incredibly inconvenient and I would much rather be a type of animal that lays eggs instead, but it’s a part of life and a twelve is too many times a year for me to start feeling ashamed about it along with everything outlined in Myth #1 above.
Blynn seems to feel differently, insinuating that despite the fact that it begins with the word “men,” menstruation discussions should be confined to female companions only. “Tampons gross guys out,” she declares, imploring readers to save “heavier details” for “any girl you happen to run into.” What is more personal than having issues with your body? Periods are just part of life and as a woman I shouldn’t be made to feel more uncomfortable while I deal with it each month. In fact, I’m should be allowed to flaunt what my mamma nature (according to those damned Tampax commercials) gave me under the Doctor Danny Castellano method of feminism: “You’re a woman, and that’s good, look like a woman.’ Menstruation should not be the cause of shame and angst– it is an awesomely female part of life and survival of the species, so next time my monthly rings in, I’m gonna blast Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive” and shout this tweet from the rooftops. Then eat my weight in Hershey’s kisses. Go ahead, try to call me crazy.
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Myth #5- A True Relationship Means Never Talking about Your GenitaliaLet me say that I am all for slang names for reproductive organs. My roommate and I once laughed at the word “peen” for probably five minutes straight, which is why I find it so confusing that “15 Things” argues talking about private parts is the ultimate taboo. If two consenting adults cannot say the words “penis” or “vagina” as parts of the body, they probably are not mature enough to be sharing those parts with each other. This prudish, Victorian sense of ‘the unsayable’ is not helping anyone. If talking about one’s “chia pet” in public feels too unladylike, think about how many masturbation jokes were mentioned in the last Judd Apatow movie and realize it’s not only okay but overdue for women to publicly talk about their private areas. In fact, life becomes more dangerous for women as we continue to walk around the ‘vagina’ word with vague speech. Politicians pick up on the ignorant atmosphere and can get away with saying bizarrely incorrect random stuff. Ladies: Don’t let the rest of the GOP (or any other political leader) think they know your body better than you do. In fact, if you say “vagina” three times in a row in the mirror, I guarantee you will feel more confident and it’s possible that in a strange spinoff of the “Bloody Mary” urban legend, Senator Wendy Davis will appear behind you.
The main issue I have with “15 Things You Should Never Tell Your Boyfriend” is the insinuation that all relationships should be glossed over, plastic, rigid creations that allow shame and stress to build up a hollow wall made of euphemisms. If a bond between two people can be weakened by a fart (which some farts have been known to do) than it just shows how meaningless our connections are. As 21st century young people addicted to the Internet, apathetically browsing the life details of that girl from creative writing summer camp in 2008, do we really need more flimsy, fake relationships in our lives? My current hero, comedian Rob Delaney describes what I consider to be an ideal marriage in an article he wrote for Vice magazine, arguing that the best part of a relationship is acknowledging the human faults and grotesqueries in your partner and not being afraid to fight about them. He asks you to remember that “you’re a bigger a**hole than they are, with enough neuroses and calcified bad habits to warrant their own card catalog.”
I am done with this “love means never having to say you’re sorry” type of bull about relationships. I am frustrated with navigating oppressive silences and exhausted from spelling out all the things I think women should tell their boyfriends. Most of all, though, I think, as Blynn would have it, I’m “just feeling so gassy today.”
I hope I speak for all of you when I say: let ‘er rip, ladies, we’ve earned it.