Sexuality Happens

Photo by Michael Barone

I remember in college, I would never have even considered letting a guy pay for my meal, or tickets to a movie, or anything. I went dutch all the time, on the few actual dates that I went on. The only exception I made is if it was for a gay friend, for a birthday dinner (we also wound up dancing the Tango in the middle of the restaurant, and there wasn’t a dance floor, so it was really just a weird night).

I don’t know where I got the idea that it wasn’t ok. I don’t think anyone ever sat down and said “when men pay for your dinner, they are expecting something. When they’re chivalrous and gentlemanly, they’re disrespecting you, and feel that you’re weak.” However, this was the principle I was operating under.

I went to a hippie school, and everyone on campus just held the door for one another. I think that’s how it should be; I’d never think to stop and wait for someone to open the door for me, that just seemed (and seems) silly to me. Then I had this one boyfriend, who told me that when I held the door open for him, I was emasculating him. I didn’t have that boyfriend for very long.

The only form of chivalry that I can remember being ok with was when this guy I was seeing offered me the inside of the bed, because it was 6 feet in the air, and I am terrified of heights. I don’t know whether it was fear that let me accept this gesture, or whether I actually was ok with it, but that was it. I never let guys bring me drinks at parties; I didn’t know if I was going to be dosed. Not that anyone ever offered to buy me a drink while we were out, but had they, I would have declined. I didn’t need anyone; I was a strong woman, fuck if I needed to take anything from anyone.

I’d read things in friends’ magazines about what it meant if a guy didn’t hold a door open for you, didn’t walk on the street side of the sidewalk, didn’t wait until you sat down. All I could think was “what bimbo would expect that from her partner? I guess, I mean, if you LIKE being objectified…” It seemed like some odd throwback to the middle ages. It is just polite to hold the door open for whoever is behind you (or whoever is holding more and heavier items).

And then I came out. I struggled with the idea of chivalry in the Butch community. I mean, clearly, it wasn’t male chauvinism in this case, but I still didn’t know how I felt about it. A lot of this was also a struggle with the Femme identity; could I be a Femme who didn’t care about getting dirty, a Femme that like dancing in the rain even if it ruined my hair, a Femme who could check her oil without fearing about breaking a nail? If I went back to this concept of letting people hold doors for me, and pull my chair out, and such, was I just falling back into the patriarchy?

When I was at Dinah 07, and was having some hot sex, I finally felt that it was ok. I don’t know what clicked, whether it was something that was said, or just that it was actually happening to me in reality, but this person was holding doors for me, keeping her (now his?) hand on the small of my back as he guided me through large crowds, introducing me (rather than the other way around), offering to hold my coat, etc. All these things I had been so against, and suddenly, I was not only letting someone do them without getting a lecture on equality, but I was enjoying it.

Part of it was because I felt respected. I’ve never minded when my female friends held the door, or let me get in the car first, etc, because I’ve never felt disrespected by them. In high school and college, my guy friends would never have dreamt of holding the door, or placing their hand on my back, or paying for me, so it was never even an issue, although I did feel respected by them. And here I was, feeling respect (and a lot of lust), and suddenly, it was ok.

As I read Sinclair’s writing more and more, I understand that chivalry comes from different places in different people. Sinclair’s place seems to be one of respect and caring; I’d let Sinclair hold the door for me, and maybe even pay for my drinks (note: hell, I’d let Sinclair fuck me, so maybe this isn’t exactly the best example). However, the other night at the bar (Roller Girl Karaoke), a very drunk dyke decided to buy all the women drinks. And then came over, and started a conversation with me, and two other ladies. She was not coming from a place of respect. This could be told by her suddenly touching me without asking, talking down to me, and constantly referring back to having bought the drinks. My angry inner feminist raised her head, and wanted to lecture her on the objectification of women. I didn’t; rather, I went up and sang Sweet Transvestite instead.

The same night, I was getting out of my car at the meter, while on the phone with a friend. As I began to open my door, I felt it being pulled from the outside. When I looked up, a middle age man was opening it for me. I went into fight (no option for flight mode), telling my friend that something was about to go down. Still on the phone, I cautiously got out as the man opened my door. “Little lady, you look like you need a little help. Let me get this for you.” Excuse me? I look like I need help why? Because I’m in a handicapped space, or because my breasts are falling out of my dress? Once I stood up, he put his hand on my back, and he and his friends (oh yes, did I mention there was a group of 3 or 4 drunken middle aged men?) told me I looked very pretty, and asked me if I need them to walk me anywhere. Firstly, if I did need to be walked somewhere, it would be with someone I trusted, and to protect me from people like you, but ok. And secondly, get your hand off me. Did I tell you that you could touch me? Didn’t think so. Kindly remove it before I poke you in the eye with Mr.Right, who just so happens to be chilling underneath my dress. My friend was concerned; “Em, you ok?” I told him I was fine, just dealing with some drunken old men. He got more concerned “Jesus, they just follow you, don’t they. Just remember, if you punch them, I’m in CO and can’t bail you out of jail.” I locked my car, shut the door, and started putting money in the meter, avoiding them completely. They finally wandered off.

I’m sure they thought they were being gentlemanly. I thought they were being annoying, patronizing assholes. Who is right? I don’t know. Maybe if I’d been brought up in a different culture, I’d find it flattering. I didn’t. I thought it was rude and creepy.

So I haven’t changed completely. Holding doors for me doesn’t really bother me, as I feel you should just hold the door; it’s bloody polite. And sometimes chivalry still really bothers me; I feel it doesn’t come from a place of respect, and I’m right back in college, mentally ranting against the misogyny. And still other times, I like it a lot. I never expect it, but from the right people, it makes me feel like more of a Femme, that I’m treated differently. These are people that I trust, and feel that we have mutual respect.

The other day, I was leaving K’s apt (albeit with ice cubes down my bra). I gave him a hug, and headed out the door to say goodbye. He told me he was going to walk me downstairs. Off the cuff, I said “well, aren’t you quite the chivalrous gentleman.” He told me that he wasn’t always like that, that I brought it out in him. I responded something about clearly, I was a success as a Femme, and went on my merry way.

On my drive home, I was trying to figure out how I actually felt about him saying that. Had someone said that to me a few years ago, I would probably have been really upset, asked them what it was about me that seemed weak and helpless, and then done my best to remedy the situation. However, that isn’t the case anymore. I don’t think chivalry is this horrible thing in all cases. When J held the door for me, or K walks me down the stairs, or the person at Dinah confidently lead me through the crowd, I feel (felt) hot and powerful and respected and feminine and like a self-satisfied Femme. I’m usually a fan of “if feels right, and doesn’t hurt anyone, it’s fine.” However, I still wonder, am I hurting people by subscribing to misogyny, as I enjoy having people be chivalrous towards me?

I’ll probably never figure this one out, but at least I’m not in a “hate everyone and die phase.” Hell, I even let J pay for dinner on our first date :)