About the future. Specifically, how I can get strategies in place to prepare for stuff that will come up as my kids get older. Because the things that will come up, in the main, scare me shitless. We live in such a patriarchal fog that virtually everything that is to come will bring with it shit that will intersect with my feminist mothering in a bad, bad, scary way.
What strikes me when I think about this stuff (in the nanosecond I think about it before I decide it’s ‘wine time’), is that for all my desire to parent my daughter and my son the same way, that patriarchal fog gets in the way of even that.
I was talking about rape last time, and it got me thinking about the (supposedly) thorny issue of consent (which to my mind isn’t actually very thorny at all, but hey, I’m simple like that).
So I was thinking about consent and sex, and then about my kids journeying into the sexual arena (when they’re, like,
30 40 or so…) and how to teach them about sexual integrity.
And here are my initial, knee-jerk thoughts:
To Boogie I would say: Don’t do anything you’re not absolutely sure you want to do.
To L’il Boo I would say: Don’t do anything unless you’re absolutely sure that the other person wants to do it to.
Recognise anything there? See that glaring assumption that my boy (my beautiful, sweet boy) will be the one who ‘wants’ it and my girl (my feisty, strong-minded girl) will be the one who isn’t sure if she ‘wants’ it or not? Oh, Patriarchy, you fucker, you.
There, in a nutshell – the Patriarchy’s influence on how I view my children. In my head almost (thank goddess for the ‘almost’) automatically, my boy will be, not the ‘aggressor’ (not if I have anything to do with it – and I do), but he will be the ‘leader’ of any sexual situation he finds himself in. By contrast, Boogie will be the ‘follower’. Bizarrely, these initial thoughts remain even if I assume my children will both be gay.
How fucked up is that?
It’s rapidly becoming ever clearer to me that nothing, not nuttin‘, can be taken for granted. Not a single initial thought can be trusted. Not a single thought can pass through my stereotype-primed brain without it then having to be filtered repeatedly for Patriarchal crappiness. My brain is becoming the human equivalent of a Fluid Catalytic Cracker (which, if you’re interested is this)
Did I mention feminist mothing is fucking exhausting?