Hallo-weenie

I want to share with you a recent conversation I had on a popular online dating website. Ready?  

Guy: What are you going to be for Halloween?
Me: Mister Rogers!
Guy: That's a good costume...not going to take advantage of being allowed to dress slutty?

Pause here. 

First of all,  I didn't realize I needed permission to dress like a whore. This whole time I thought I was free to dress in any way I like. I mean, here I am, thinking that I'm CHOOSING to wear pants, when in fact I've been unwittingly adhering to a dress code imposed by -- who, exactly? Society? The man? DAMN THE MAN.

Secondly, how does he know my Mister Rogers costume isn't slutty?

Ok, back to regular programming.


Me: I prefer to dress slutty only when it’s NOT allowed. 

Zing! Right? Apparently not:

Guy: Dressing slutty is a skill all girls should have in their armamentarium.

He then went on typing, but I stopped listening here. Try as I might to resist it, I was offended. Not "as a feminist," because that phrase is overused and alienating and just plain obnoxious. But as a woman, or even just as a human.

I realize that this guy is typical. Men want sex. That in itself is not offensive. It's just shallow and uninteresting and ... well, typical. There's so much more to discover about a person, beyond the temporary thrill of physical attraction. I'm tired of superficial flirtations that only serve to inflate my ego momentarily. Sex without substance. It's lost its appeal. I think that's a sign of growth.

On the other hand, and this is the embarrassing part and probably the root of my anger and indignation, I felt the impulse to prove to this guy that I did, in fact, have sex appeal. Or, as he stated it, the "dressing slutty skill." I felt I had to explain that I'm not only capable of dressing like a skank, but I excel at it. Which isn't really true, but at the heart of this defensive impulse is the subconscious fear that I am not attractive enough, feminine enough, desirable enough (for who? this ordinary guy I'm not even interested in? my ego is such an asshole) - that I need to rely on my body to win a man's affection. 

I refuse to buy into it. And I know that it's not society that needs to change - or at least, I can't wait for society to change. It's my ego. That divisive wicked little creature responsible for all those self-defeating thoughts. The impulse to tear down my self worth, the false beliefs that I am not enough, that I can't, that I don't deserve, that I am wrong. This is my greatest enemy, which I believe I might be battling my entire life. But I have this anger, this guilt, this shame, provoked by a few thoughtless and harmless words. And it's my responsibility to get free from those feelings. By matching every negative thought with an affirmation. By acknowledging that those feelings exist. And, because I'm human, by having a little fun at this guy's expense. Because he's definitely going to be included in my next set list. Hallo-weenie indeedy.