"Forcefully feminine"
By: Delilah
Published: 14 January 2008
One of my favorite things about going home for Christmas
is getting to catch up with my Aunt "Gems". Aunt
Gems always likes to exchange stories about work, school,
the latest Sylvia Brown book and, of course, men.
As we sat on bar stools in my uncle's kitchen and guzzled
down some more champagne and ate artichoke dip, we got on
to the topic of what dating was like when my Aunt Gems was
a 20-something during the late 1950s, early 1960s.
As Aunt Gems describes it, "a girl never asked a guy
out on a date unless it was the Sadie Hawkins dance, and the
boy always did the calling, and if he wanted to go steady
with you he would give you his class ring or his letterman
jacket. And a boy always made the first move."
Listening to Aunt Gems recall her dating scene, I was relieved
to be a 20-something in 2008 rather than 1958 - otherwise
I would probably be sitting at home waiting for some handsome
man to call - not writing a column about sex.
Times have certainly changed since Aunt Gems last wore a
boy's letterman jacket. Even when I was in high school, I
did all the asking, whether it was to a homecoming dance,
a movie or to a game of "feel me up" in my parent's
basement. For as long as I have had raging hormones, I have
pursued men with the same fervor I put towards my academics,
an internship or a really cute handbag.
My inclination to take the lead came out one Saturday night
at GW when I laid my eyes on a tall blond frat boy who had
his eyes decidedly fixed on a baseball game. As I came over
and sat down next to him I casually introduced myself. Luckily
for me he was not too attached to the TV screen to give me
a second look. After a bit of chatting and a few drinks later,
he asked me to look him up on Facebook.
A week or two passed and I finally asked Frat Boy to meet
up with me. After a few cordial late night visits I was hoping
for a hook up. One night he came over - our cover activity
was mixed drinks with a side of "Borat" - but once
my roommates settled into bed, he began to kiss me as we sat
there on the couch with the TV still blaring in the background.
Just when it started to get hotter, I decided to do what
I do best and take the lead. I began by whispering in his
ear to follow me into my room and then pinned him against
the wall and told him all the naughty things I was going to
do to him. A few moments after I had begun to give him some
pleasure, Frat Boy suddenly insisted that he had to leave.
Not making anything of it, I kissed him goodbye and patted
myself on the back for getting Frat Boy all hot and bothered.
Five days later I had heard nothing from Frat Boy, which
left me feeling confused. I decided I needed to confront Frat
Boy myself with an instant message.
"Hey, Frat Boy, it's Delilah. So I noticed you haven't
returned my calls and texts, and it's okay if you're not interested,
but I think I deserve an explanation for why you have been
avoiding me."
Moments later Frat Boy responded, "Ugh, sorry about
that, Delilah, it's just that the last time we hung out, I
felt like you were tying to physically harm me or beat me
up."
I was confused, yet at the same time amused. Did Frat Boy
really think I was trying to beat him up? The last time I
checked undoing a guy's belt buckle and telling him that he
was "gonna get it" was by no means grounds for accusing
me of abuse!
After a few laughs and a bit of shock, I realized that Frat
Boy's accusations were not so much about assault as about
intimidation.
When women take the lead or step out of traditional roles,
men seem to shake in their boots (Hillary Clinton ring a bell?).
Now that boys do not have to make the first move, I cannot
help but thinking that men find themselves a little frightened
by vibrators, Brazilian waxes and women who take the lead
in the bedroom.
Aunt Gems' days of dating are long gone and Frat Boy's unease
is no reason for me to back down. Any man that thinks I am
too ambitious is no man for me.
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