Christine Gabrièlle

We’re discussing two pieces here because they go together so seamlessly.

Liberating Your Fantasies

“Somewhere along the journey, through attraction we feel for others, media images, and healthy and/or unhealthy interactions with those older than us, visuals and story lines groove a pathway for desire in our brains. We begin to have certain scenarios that turn us on, fantasies of what we want to do or have done to us or witness… Fantasy, then, becomes a safe space to desire things that we might never do or allow in real life. But because the realm of imagination is also where culture begins–we imagine things that in turn shape our real life desires and practices.” (p.221-222)

Is there a line where fantasizing about things we’d never do or allow in real life turns into things we actually want to happen? Where we fantasize about it so much that we begin to desire it? Maybe even look for ways to make it happen in real life?

Can fantasies become dangerous?

It seems like an obvious “yes,” but there is much to be explored here.

“Men learn to be dominant, initiating penetrators: they learn that it’s in their nature to ravish women. Women learn to be coy, dishonest receptacles: we’re taught to say no until the last moment–and then say nothing but yes. Or say nothing and mean yes… The lessons are sometimes very direct, other times implied: cross your legs like a lady, save that for your husband, take her like a man, it hurts a little at first, it’s just nature, who’s your Daddy.” (p.223)

“Boys will be boys” is one of the most annoying simplicities of this idea that it’s in men’s nature to ravish women. It’s not nature. It’s conditioning.

Just like women are conditioned to pretend we don’t enjoy sex, to allow men their proclivities so they don’t become angry and turn to violence.

Just so we’re clear, it should not hurt the first time (or any other time). If it does, it is likely that you aren’t ready (mentally or physically), he is being too rough, or you may have a medical condition (like vaginismus) and should probably consult your care provider/team. Of course, this does not apply to those who enjoy pain play and where the pain is intentional, consensual, and has pre-established and agreed-upon boundaries.

“From our first moments, we should be encouraged to focus on how our bodies feel, what sensations and interactions awaken us, what feels wrong, what kind of touch feels right, and how to communicate a spectrum of boundaries and consent. Instead, many of us spend our formative years in our heads, learning to be something we are not, unlearning the skills of truth we’re all born with. Eventually our desires are woven so thoroughly with these social norm fantasies that we think that we desire our own disempowerment or someone else’s.” (p.224)

Our formative years are often filled with instructions to deny or ignore our developing bodies, especially regarding sexuality, and particularly in religious households.

So many people never learn to really focus on their body. That’s not only detrimental to our sexual health but to our general physical and mental health as well.

If we know what and how our bodies feel at various stages—when we’re happy, angry, hungry, thirsty, full, sad, horny, lonely, bored, unfulfilled, disconnected, at different stages of our hormone cycle, etc.—then we will be more aware when something isn’t right and can communicate that to whoever needs to be informed—partner, relative, friend, physician.

And, when it comes to our fantasies, we should know whether what we’re fantasizing about is being informed by our actual desires or the wider societal environment and influence.

Pornography and Accountability

“How do we face the national truth that our trending fantasy sexual experiences center around incest, underage lovers, racialized power dynamics, or sexual encounters in which women are objects? How do we face ourselves and what we’ve been programmed to desire, especially if it works against our sense of agency and connection and integrity in our real-life sex? How do we move beyond the things we have accidentally come to want and need in order to get off, toward the desires we want and need to cultivate to break the intersecting cycles of harm we are in? And how do we face the deeply embedded shame around what we desire? Because while we didn’t create the water we’re swimming in, it’s still poisoning us. How do we take responsibility for the ways in which we are programming ourselves to participate in rape culture in the deepest recesses of our minds? And that our imaginations are being discarded in the process?… This begins by examining our search bars, finding our collective dignity.” (pp. 227-228)

According to this piece, the top porn searches in 2016 for men were variations on relatives and step-relatives (“stepmom,” “stepsister,” “stepmom and son,” “mom”) along with specific demographics (“teen,” “Japanese,” “Ebony”); for women, top searches were also variations on relatives and step-relatives, particularly “stepdad and daughter,” but also “gangbang,” Black-related, and related to specific kinks; and everyone searched for “lesbians”.

I’d like to know if the search terms for Christians (specifically) were representative of the larger sampling. Do Christ-followers, with varying levels of repression and liberation, search for the same categories of pornography as those who don’t claim Christianity as their foundation?

I am particularly convinced that porn is shaping our fantasies, not the other way around, and it is to our detriment when the lines between those fantasies and reality blur.

The question is asked: “How do we face ourselves and what we’ve been programmed to desire, especially if it works against our sense of agency and connection and integrity in our real-life sex?”

Finding the answer begins with “examining our search bars, finding our collective dignity”:

• What has led us to a particular string of terms—internal desire or outside influence?
  • If internal desire, why do we desire to watch this scenario play out?
  • If external influence, where did the influence come from and why have we succumbed to it?
• Are the things we’re searching for, and subsequently watching, distorting or damaging the way we view people in our day-to-day?

These are just a few questions to begin the internal dialogue that allows us to examine our relationship with porn. Whether we explore this conversation only with ourselves or between ourselves and others, it is a step in the direction of “finding our collective dignity.”

🖤