Female Sexuality, Power, Feminism, and the Male Gaze

     We've all heard it before. Hell, we may have even been the ones saying it: I own my sexuality. I am sexy for me. I am subverting traditional female sexuality and objectification by existing as a feminist being exuding sexiness on my own terms. 
     I recently watched a documentary called Sexy Baby, a perspective into how images of female sexuality, particularly through pop culture and pornography, shape girls' and women's self image and in turn inform their decision making. The film followed three women, one of whom was a young girl named Winnifred. We're introduced to her as a 12 year old feminist actor, performing a piece overtly critical of popular images of women. As the movie progresses, we see Winnifred become a teenager and become more and more drawn into sexuality, seemingly leaving behind the self assured preteen feminist.
     Winnifred seems to believe that she is performing sexuality in a powerful way, that she is trying on 'sexy' for herself. Is that truly a possibility for a young woman of her age? Is it really possible for any of us? First of all, as a woman well into her twenties who has successfully made it to the other side of budding teenage sexuality, I can look back and see myself in Winnifred: the desperate, insatiable desire to cultivate an identity, unique enough to stand out, but not so unique as to be labeled a weirdo; the sudden influx of near constant male attention and the realization that men now see you as a potentially sexual being; the need, crushing in its enormity, to be independent, all while failing completely to realize how dependent you still are. These are the universal truths of early female teenagedom. So here's the question: When you don't know yet who you are and what sexuality means in a greater context of objectification and near universal oversexualization, can you subvert the status quo by "owning" said sexuality?
     I don't have a firm answer to that question, but I suspect it is no. A young teenager, for all intents and purposes a child, does not and cannot truly understand all the facets of her own sexuality, much less grapple with where said sexuality fits into the enormous contextual clusterfuck that is patriarchy and society at large.
     But what about as an adult? Let's say you know who you are. You've tried on different identities and found the one that fit. You are a sexy, self-actualized woman and you are owning the hell out of your sexuality. But sexuality doesn't exist in a vacuum. Even if you're operating 100% on your own terms, if you're performing hegemonic femininity/heterosexual sexiness, you're still living a life within the patriarchy. The male gaze and patriarchal norms exist regardless of intent. So does intent matter when the results are the same no matter what? When I put on some heels and a skirt, am I still part of a greater problem?
     None of this is to say there is anything inherently wrong with sexiness. But there's something to be said about being cognizant and critical of our own roles in upholding an arbitrary, heterosexist ideal. The personal has never ceased being political.

She Loves "The Gays"

     In my younger days, I began identifying with what many might call "gay culture." I went to midnight showings of The Rocky Horror Picture Show and listened to Cher and Britney and went to drag shows. In college, I started doing drag myself (that's Mr. UT Gender Bender 2007 to you, thankyouverymuch). I had (and still have) gay friends. Coming from a liberal, feminist family, this was met with relative enthusiasm, or at least wasn't discouraged, however uncomfortable my father was with the idea of me dressing like a man and getting on stage.
     It wasn't long before I was given the title of " hag." I wore the badge proudly, head held high knowing that I, oh benevolent, straight, white lady, was an enthusiastic friend to "the gays".
     I'm here today to tell you I was wrong.
     Now hang on, before anyone gets too upset: I am 100% an ally to gay/lesbian/bisexual/trans/queer/other people. I believe in equality and I still love disco. And don't even get me started on drag as a radical statement on gender performativity (or do, I didn't get that expensive Women's Studies degree to NOT get academic about gender)! But you know what? I'm straight. It's not about me. Say it with me straight allies: it is not about us.
     I'm not a "hag." It's not ok for me to use someone else's sexual orientation as a part of my identity. Period.
     And "the gays"? Please. Gay people are not a monolith. There are plenty of gay people I don't like.  You know why? Because they're human beings with diverse lives and interests and personalities and nobody lives everyone. I can like some people and dislike others and still support everyone's rights!
     We as straight people who feel connected to the fight for equality need to make sure we're supporting people and not a pile of straw men (or women). As long as we're labeling an entire group as "the gays" we're taking part in the same kind of othering that the people on the other side of the fight do when they discriminate. We mean well, but it doesn't do anyone any good to forget that the ones who are being denied basic civil and human rights are our neighbors, our sisters, our brothers, our friends.
     By allowing this kind of attitude to prevail, I believe we're ultimately doing a disservice to those we love. We can do better. We can be better. We can listen, truly listen, to our friends and become the most effective allies we can be.
     ....and then maybe go to drag brunch.