Tag Archives: PATRIARCHY

MONOGAMY SAVED MEN, NOT WOMEN

Being in the poly community, it’s common to hear men say, “I want multiple wives.” Even before I became poly, men often said it to make themselves seem more masculine or like they could get all the bitches. For decades, men minimized the responsibility of having multiple wives to only meet their sexual desires. But when those very same men were asked if they could afford those wives, they often went silent. 

History Lesson: In ancient times and even in the animal kingdom, only the richest, strongest, and most powerful men had multiple wives. For centuries, it was a man’s responsibility to take care of the woman, be it his wife, mother, sister, or daughter. Sure embedded in that ideology was tons of misogyny, but no woman would go hungry if a man were around. Because women always outnumbered men, sometimes 4 to 1, how was it possible for every woman to be taken care of? This was the real reason for polygamous unions; it was for every woman to have a husband, NOT for every man to have multiple wives. 

A man was able to acquire as many wives as he could financially provide for. And, since wealth often remained with the rich and powerful, those who lacked the finances often found themselves without or lusting for female companionship. 

I’m certain some ancient-time-INCEL got on his angry soapbox in the middle of the town square and screamed at the top of his lungs, “Give me a woman, or I’ll start blowing shit up!” And some lower-ranking man of the kingdom said, “Fine, you can have my mistress, just don’t blow up the town.” This was often how women were used in olden times, as bartering chips. Do you really think a princess and prince separated by oceans married for true love? Do you really think they wanted the consummation of their marriage to be seen by all of the royalty? Do you really think she enjoyed the pressure to give her husband a male son to solidify their union? Silly Rabbit!!!

With that INCEL throwing a tissy-fit, we began seeing monogamy. Monogamy became a way for men with meager means to find a spouse and create a lineage of their own. Men whose trade was a welder could pass down his name to his children, thus making the Welder family. Yes, more often than not, people’s last names were nothing more than their profession. If your last name is Taylor, it’s highly likely your ancestor (or, in the case of many brown bodies), your ancestor’s owner was probably a tailor. Your last name is Miller, then you probably had someone harvesting wheat in the past. 

So, how are we now at a place where men of meager means feel they have the ability to get and/or expect multiple wives? It’s a combination of patriarchy and feminism. 

You see, feminism and feminist ideals arrived out of necessity. Remember that, for centuries, women were 100% attached to a man. A woman needed a man for everything, but what would happen if that man no longer existed. If her father died, her brother, husband, and son, who was she, and what value or influence did she have? An unmarried woman was considered a bitch to the societal norms. But, as women continued to outlive men and meager men could now choose a bride, some women weren’t chosen. The unmarried women left had to but push for change, get jobs, and fight for fairness. (Keep in mind black women had already been working the entire time, so this new push is extremely white-centered). But that was the ideals of feminism, fairness, and equality. If I had to work, I wanted to be paid the same. 

Somehow though, this desire for fairness was met with opposition from both men and women. Some women couldn’t understand why others didn’t want to follow the tradition. What do you mean you don’t want to experience morning sickness, gain 30-40lbs, having your vagina stretched wide, and risk postpartum-depression? Being a mother is amazing! While men didn’t want women monopolizing their space. And those men who suffered the earliest influx of women went out of their way to make them feel insignificant or sexualized in the workplace. Patriarchy (white-patriarchy) is the fucking devil. So, the narrative became, women who wanted independence outside of a man was the enemy. “You don’t want to get married and have my babies? Fine. Do everything yourself then.” As if wanting my own, in case of emergency, was code for I don’t need you for anything. (Venus Vs. Mars).

So, why do some men feel that they have the right to possess and/or want multiple women? Because both men and women are dumb as fuck and refuse to learn their history.

I blame women because we often fall victim to the status-quo of yesteryear. The ‘every woman needs a husband’ theory still holds true in many households. They often forget the LBGTQ+ community, those that don’t want to get married, and those who prefer quality over quantity. All that matters is that there’s a man present. Growing up in the city, I saw it all the time. Women so determined to have a man in the home, they cared not for his character. He could cheat, be an alcoholic, abusive, and not provide financially. But as long as he had a dick, he could stay. Being able to say “I got a man” meant everything, regardless of the fact that he was a shitty-man.

I blame men because some women allowed them to feel empowered, and they ran with it. Even the good men stood by and cheered them on. (Complacent ass-holes). He was able to go around and fuck other women and make babies outside of the home. But as long as he came back that night or the next night or next week, he was welcomed with open arms. He knew that the odds were in his favor. Remember, women outnumbered men, sometimes 4 to 1. Take that same percentage and focus it on black and brown communities, the ratio almost doubles. Leaving men the ability to get away with damn-near anything. 

Monogamy saved y’all asses. Women of yesteryear dealt with bastard (children born out of wedlock) because they were married to the King or Duke or whatever. He had more than enough money to go around. But you men of meager means need to take a seat and keep your dick wrapped up. Don’t go chasing water-falls, then complain when it gets too choppy. Stick to the rivers and lakes that you’re used to. Because if it wasn’t for monogamy, you’d be getting no pussy!

LOVE LANGUAGE #4 – PHYSICAL TOUCH

People often assume that sexual touch and physical touch are the same thing. Another common assumption is that, a sexual person must also enjoy being touched. For much of my life, I made these assumptions as well. I loved having sex so much, that I was sure Physical Touch would be my top love language. I was certain that, with all the kissing, caressing, and humping; it would be my number one -How could it not be? While doing the test, I was surprised to see that so many of my answers proved otherwise. With Physical Touch coming in at number 4, I reflected back to some instances where I was being touched, but I didn’t feel loved. 

I remember a time, years ago, when I was lying beside my boyfriend. We were both naked, as we just finished having sex; his arm was draped over my body, and my head was nestled underneath his chin on his chest. All was right with the world, until he started rubbing my arm, up and down. The feeling of his hand against my skin had changed. The caressing of his hand that had just ignited our 30-minute love making session, suddenly felt like a catheter, stopping my blood flow. I remember wanting him to stop, but because I didn’t want to sound mean – I said nothing. Recently, I was on the sofa with my guy, as we watched Netflix. He was sitting up and I was resting my head on his lap. In that position I felt safe, secured, and precious; I could’ve stayed in that position forever. When his hands moved from around my waist and started to rub on my breasts; those feelings began to fade. I tried ignoring it at first, because I knew that he was happy touching me in that way; eventually it was all I could focus on. It went from being something I could ignore to annoying. Again, I didn’t want to come across as unaffectionate; so, I placed my hands over his to stop the motion.  

On both occasions, a person that I loved was delivering love to me, but it was in the form that best suited them. It wasn’t the first time those actions had taken place, but it was the first time I had processed them that way. I needed to find some reason or logic as to why, in those moments, I shut down and, in a way felt slightly offended.  

For centuries, a woman’s body was the property of her father, and after marriage it became the property of her husband. It’s still common to hear women relinquish their bodies to their husbands on demand (I was exhausted, but when my man wants it, I give it!). It’s been instilled in women that a wife’s duty is to see to it that her husband was satisfied. For a time, if he wanted to have sex and she did not, he was within the full rights of the law, to use his male-domination to either convince his wife and/or dominate her into submission. Even though there are laws that exist against these acts today (depending on where you are in the world and if violence is involved), many women still believe that their bodies are not their own. Sure, if a stranger touched me, I could handle the situation quite abruptly and without hesitation. But when love is involved the once clear line begins to blur. 

From birth, it’s easy to overlook all the times when a person’s body is not their own. We’ve all seen the child writhing and screeching, as their being passed around like a dessert plate for people to “ooh” and “ahh” at them – We’ve all been this child at least once. Try counting how many times your parents or family told you to give a hug or a kiss to someone that you didn’t want to – If you could even remember, you would lose count. When we’re in school, if a classmate hit us, or invaded our personal space, we were told to be nice, shake hands, and hug. Once out of the womb, we were repeatedly forced to lower our bodily-boundaries for people that we knew and loved. The roads run parallel for both sexes until approximately puberty. After puberty, boys were taught to take power and control of their bodies, while girls are taught to protect bodies, but only for the later use of a man (Don’t you want to be perfect for your husband on your wedding night?). With this rhetoric it’s no wonder why I had issues declaring my body as my own. 

I first had to learn that my body was my own; entering into a relationship did not give my partner rights to my body. The second thing I had to learn was, not wanting to be touched did not mean a lack of love. There are certain touches the register certain emotions, and those emotions control how I feel in my relationships. I’m a sexual being that likes sex, writes about sex, and I get a lot of sexual attention from strangers; it’s imperative that, in my relationship, I feel loved. I prefer hand holding to random ass-slaps while walking down the street, innocent kisses over childish grabs and/or pokes at my breasts, and standing big-spoon cuddles over fingers poking at my holes. One touch says I love and cherish you, the other says I want to fuck you, I want to possess you, to own you, and that your body is not yours, it’s mine. 

When I allow my partner(s) to explore my body as their momentary playground, it’s with much love, excitement, and sensuality. But when the sun sets, and the park closes, so does the playground inside of it. When my partner(s) continue playing after the park closes, it’s a direct disrespect of the rules and boundaries that were set in place. 

Maintaining control is of the utmost importance for me, and understanding that Physical Touch is not the same for everyone.