Every once in a while, I can be a real fucking guy. Not a Fabio-esque, beefy Adonis fucking guy. Like some sort of pleasure beast. But a douche bag bro fucking guy.
And what did I do? Nothing. I had a bad thought. As agnostic as I am, I still have a little bit of that Catholic guilt bred into me that won't let a bad thought go. And what was that thought? Did I feel the urge to kill? Did I think about eating McDonalds? No.
I thought of a woman as an object (dun dun DUUUUUUUUUUUN!).
Now this may not seem like such a bad thought, being that you can't really live in America without seeing an advertisement for boobs at least a million times a day (I'm sure the ads aren't trying to sell boobs, but that's what it freakin' looks like).
Women are objectified everywhere. The Plain Dealer had a story about the death of two elderly folks today and the paper described them as Mr. Such-and-Such and his wife, Mrs. Such-and-Such. Again, that may not surprise anyone, but it's basically like saying here's a picture of this guy and his car.
His thing. His property.
It's not so much the objectification of woman that bothers me -- I think men can be objectified just as well -- it's when culture takes the further step of classifying women as property. A thing that can be owned.
Take the idea of the "trophy wife." The trophy wife isn't so much sought after for her ability to discuss Hegel with you, but for her attractiveness. She is hot and will spur jealousy in others with less hot wives. It's similar to owning a fancy-shmancy car, like the kind you don't drive. You don't own it so you can go to the grocery store super-duper fast. You own it to show others how awesome and powerful you are. To show others you have the power to command such beauty. It doesn't even matter what the thing is -- it's owned merely to one-up other people. The thing is substantively worthless. If the it thing is a new car, ego-centrics will buy a new car. If it's a pet monkey, they'll buy a pet monkey. And whenever a new it thing comes out, they'll trade that precious little monkey in for whatever comes next.
This may not seem like a BIG DEAL, but it's this kind of mentality that allows for rape and sex-trafficking. If you can objectify the person, they aren't really a person at all, and you don't have to feel bad for treating them like sex-objects. They are sub-human and have no thoughts or feelings.
This is where my thought comes in. I was walking to the bus after work and saw a couple on the street. The woman was gorgeous and tall and blonde and probably really into metaphysics if I got to know her better. The guy was short. His eyes were too far apart. Probably an asshole if I got to know him.
Being 6'4", I felt that a tall woman dating a short guy was a crime against humanity, like a waste of a precious resource. "There are so few of them! Why him?" I found myself jealous of this munchkin. I wanted to date the tall woman! It wasn't fair! I was basically reduced to a child jealous of another kid's toy for the two seconds it took me to walk past them. But in that time I had reduced this woman to that of a plaything.
I didn't know either of them. They probably had a normal relationship just like any I've been in, full of awesome/miserable moments. But for those two seconds he simply had a cool toy that I wanted.
It wasn't until I started to emphasize with these strangers that I started to feel better for having this thought. I dated a woman that my entire family seemed to hate. A woman a few of my close friends never liked. But she was the first woman outside of my family that I ever loved, and not having the support of my family and friends was really freaking hard to deal with. I'm sure that the tall lady on the street has to deal with the same thing when her friends tell her to find someone her own size.
I also dated a girl for a short period of time who was way way way way way way way way more attractive than me. I never felt comfortable, always curious as to what she was doing with me. I was too young to realize people dated for reasons beyond sex. I would look at her and wonder why she hadn't traded-up yet for a better looking model. I'm sure that the little guy on the street has to deal with the same thing when he looks up that tall woman's nose.
When we objectify others, when we see them as things to be owned and desired, we can't empathize with them. You don't empathize with things - you just want them for how they'll make you feel. And the older I get, the more I realize that empathy - being able to relate to others - is REALLY FUCKING IMPORTANT (in a way that only bold, italics, underlined, all caps, and a curse word can emphasize).
Living in a world with just you and a bunch of objects is lonely. You may feel powerful with your trophy spouse and fancy car, but you'll never feel like a person because you have no one there to empathize with. No one to relate to. No one who understands you and makes you realize you're not the only person in the world with the feelings you have.
When you open up and are honest with others, when they become your friends, you get to have the joy of sharing your life with people who know when you need a hug or a good night of karaoke to blow off some steam. Knowing you're not alone during bad times makes them seem less bad and having people to share the awesome times with makes them so much more awesome. It's a really simple concept, but it's easy to forget.
A committed relationship is the exact same thing, except more intimate. Once you've opened up with someone so much that sex-as-recreation turns into italicized love, you know someone as well as you know yourself. You know all their creepy shit and they know all your creepy shit. And there is nothing better in this world than that. Someone loves you for you, not because you're the hot new thing, but because you share a knowledge of each other beyond anyone else. Being an equal with another person proves that you're not alone. It proves that you're alive.
It proves that you're a human being.
And nothing I have ever owned has ever made me feel as alive.
So instead of talking yourself up or prettying yourself up trying to get laid, open up. Instead of chasing after people or trying to look like a beautiful object for them, get to know them. If someone doesn't want to sleep with you but would rather be your friend, be friends.
If they fall in love, you fall in love.
