As I was looking through backtags (the trail people leave when they visit Beggar’s Daughter from another page), I stumbled across a pretty interesting discussion on the relationship of feminism and pornography. Some aware soul put “Many feminists actually support pornography” an unaware soul put “Yes, but that’s the minority.”
Feminists are all about pornography. Why? Because men are all about pornography and feminists are notorious for the “anything you can do I can do better” attitude. For the past couple years, there has been a movement to encourage women to watch porn because (and I kid you not), they think “Why should men have all the fun?” And the porn industry (unlike the Church, sadly) is listening and creating porn just for women. So don’t stand there and pretend to be some expert and tell me that society doesn’t encourage women to watch porn.
What the feminists don’t get, is that pornography undermines women. In their rallying and picketing to be prowoman, they are actually anti-woman. Oh, the irony.The following is my article “Restoring Femininity” as posted on The Porn Effect, May 24, 2011. Please note that while TPE is a Catholic ministry, I am not Catholic. No worries. Just know that I only take responsibility for the content I wrote on the site and that the content of other authors may not reflect my views and opinions. (hehe. Is that official enough) Without further adieu, Restoring Femininity.
I have never really cared for flowers. At least that is what I have always said. I believed it too. Flowers just were not my thing. Dating was not my thing. Chocolate was not my thing. Gifts were not my thing. Flirting was not my thing. I could not tell you what was my thing.
At the age of 21, I realized that “not my thing” was actually my way of saying, “I’m going to lower my expectations so I don’t get hurt.” I realized that I was protecting myself from disappointment. So began a long and painful process of breaking down walls and restoring what was broken.
Somewhere along the line, I lost the princess dream. That dream that sends little girls to their rooms with their stuffed animals for a tea party of tap water and animal crackers. I could probably trace it back to when my father left. My involvement with pornography, however, only managed to drive home a new greatly-reduce feeling of self-worth. I was only worth sex, and since I was not having sex, I apparently, was not worth much.
It was not that I was a tomboy. I just completely lost my identity, my purpose. I lost my femininity. I was the tough girl. Mad as brass tacks and sharper than nails. Everything about me smacked of control, of power and of the uselessness of men. Each of those attitudes was a result of my exposure to pornography, and is actually the attitude pornography promotes for men. I just happened to be a woman. It made me no man’s woman. Consequently, I did not feel like a woman at all.
Pornographic addiction, masturbation, lust- they all do more than cause a woman to question her sexuality. They make her question her humanity. Somehow she has ended up on the bottom of a twisted food chain. She is getting satisfaction from the abuse of other women and while she identifies herself with those women, she is actually adopting the mindset of the men. It is a bizarre combination of thought-processes that leaves her feeling lower than scum, and worthless, buried under a heaping pile of shame and guilt.
The worst part about being in that place is that it can breed lifestyles that stick around long after the pornography is gone. Freedom from pornography is more than just freedom from pornography. You could lock a porn addict in a room without a bed, window, computer, phone, or any contact with technology at all, tie her hands behind her back and all you’ve done is tied her up and thrown her in a room. It does not free her from pornography because more than pictures, pornography is an attitude developed in the core of who she is. It is an attitude that has completely twisted her view of herself, love, and God.
My distaste for flowers had nothing to do with the flowers. I never wanted flowers- not because I was allergic to them, or because I did not like the smell. I said I did not like flowers because I wanted to deter them being given to me. In my mind, I did not deserve flowers because I did not deserve to be loved or pursued. Those things just did not happen anymore. All I was worth was my body, so cut the flowers, cut to the chase and tell me what you are really after. “Love” as every little girl imagines it, felt fake to me.
God touched my heart that day, nearly four years ago when I found myself contemplating my distaste for flowers. It was as if He leaned in close and said, “Let Me love you. No, you don’t deserve it, but I have chosen to love you anyway.” It’s been a long journey finding the woman He wants me to be. I doubt that I’m really that far from where I started.
Each of us, in Christ, have a worth beyond measure. A worth that, no, we are not worthy of but that He gives us through Christ. We were worth Calvary to Him. We were worth everything to Him, no matter what we’ve done. He has a plan for each of us. A plan that wants to pour grace on us beyond all that we have ever done and do things in our lives above and beyond all we could ever ask or think.
I’ll never be a prissy girl. That has nothing to do with pornography; that’s just who I am. I prefer jeans and track pants to sundresses and heels. I have never owned more than one item of pink at any time in my life. Pearls inevitably find their way to the trash can right beside the lace and unopened bottles of perfume. I am a free spirit and still learning how to match that up with who He created me to be. I am an adventurer and more “untraditional feminine” than tomboy. My dream wedding reception is a good old-fashioned Barbecue.
Those flowers? Yes, please, but no roses. I can’t stand roses.