The Common Denominator In All Of This, Is You – a tale by Snow Black

 

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I’m taking a long hard look at myself at the moment in a really self indulgent, Grey’s Anatomy/Shonda Rhimes kind of way. The kind of self-analysis that sends you spiralling into monologue-mode at your friends. Back in the day, when I agreed to write for Slipperella I thought it would be a really fun way to chronicle my dating exploits, as well as eventually find a man. Well, over a year or so later,  I find myself sat in a Shoreditch caf (obvs, cuz it’s trend) staring my catalogue of disappointments in the face.

Where is it all going wrong?
I don’t want to keep writing about how I feel let down by men. I’m equally anxious not to appear like a stuck-up, picky, well…moron. That girl on C4’s, First Dates the other day was mainly bothered about how her boyfriend will look in the picture she will eventually show to her friends. I’m not that bad…surely?
However, after a recent catch-up sesh with a girl mate, despairing over yet another disastrous man-experience, I realised it was time for some serious evalution. You’ve heard it said, “the common denominator in all of this is you…” Well, I’m looking at the girl in the mirror and I’m asking her to change her ways. If that is the appropriate course of action, of course.
Reflections:
I seem to somehow choose/attract men who, after what seems like a matter of minutes into meeting, want to take my clothes off. And NOT because I am the hottest thing since sliced bread either…well, the hottest thing since Pop Tarts, maybe, but stilllll. It’s the pretty ones. I like ’em. That, to be fair, is probably where I’m going wrong.
Cheeky.
Anyway, I reached the dizzy heights of a third date with a pretty Christian guy recently. HOW DID SHE DO IT?! I hear the sistas cry. Well, I’ll tell you. Apparently it was something about the way I acted on the first and second date that suggested that I was up for non-comittal sexual intercourse on the third, that’s how. I didn’t FYI, but another ‘help yourself’ (see my blog on this) situation later and I am left wondering if anyone inside or outside of the church gets to know someone without banging bits first.
I’m not alone in this experience. A friend said to me recently that she is increasingly being put off the idea of having sex at all, as it seems that every guy she has dated of late has only been interested in her long enough to twang her knicker elastic. ‘I’m more than tits & a vagina’, came the cry.
True. Say.
I could be described as being coquettish at times, I hold my hands up. I enjoy fashion, make-up, self-improv, looking nice, the usual. And sometimes when these things come together, I get my Vixen on and get proactive with da mandem. I don’t eat them, or even lick tbh. I’m mainly about the banter and working the eyes. But! I try and restrict such behaviour to situations where there is some sort of foundation or mutual understanding. I try to practice ‘safe Christian flirting’. Flirting that lets a guy know that I’m interested. Helpful, I would’ve thought?
Maybe not. Maybe that’s another area where I’m going wrong, maybe my ‘safe flirting’ is other people’s ‘safe sex’. Safe(ish) because they use a condom, not because they have considered the context in which they are having sex in, in the first place. Maybe all flirting should be restricted to an exclusive and defined, dating relationship?
Dry.
The real problem, as I see it, is that the lie of on-demand sexual ‘fullfillment’ is robbing our men (& women) of real intimacy. A kiss is no longer ‘just a kiss’ in that it must always lead somewhere and it’s slowly turning me frigid – in the old skool sense of the word. Slight exaggeration but why are we (women) suddenly being some kind of militant gate-keepers?! Why is it solely our responsibility to define the boundaries? I don’t believe that men are animals so what’s happening?! It’s been argued that as a society we’re more sexually liberated than ever – as though that can only be a good thing. I’d argue that we’ve never been so sexually enslaved or confused.
I am not the sum total of my curves or my bits. The ‘means’ of getting to know someone cannot and should not solely be about a copulative ‘end’. Or, taking it further, people should not be categorised as either being a shag (product), OR a long-term/marriage potential; as though the two are polar opposites and regardless of whether they are working the eyes and giving you banter. Ahem.
There’s no denying that being a single Christian in this day and age is bloody difficult. The very thing we are advised, not told, to sacrifice/value (until marriage), is the thing that is valued most highly in our culture. Being single until your late twenties, thirties, forties, forever and choosing not to have sex can feel like a death sentence rather than a gift. Delayed gratification with no gratification remotely in sight is a massive sacrifice. Purposeful but a sacrifice nonetheless. And this in turn has added a new dimension to dating. Particularly considering the small pool of men we’re working with. The question seems to be not so much about whether they are a ‘Christian’ or not, but whether they are apathetic about keeping sex until marriage?
I want the price of my ‘sex’ to be high for many reasons, but so that I can protect myself from being used solely for it. So that men bother to get to know me and the fact that, I love buffets, have a Myers-Briggs profile of ENFJ and feel most alive and connected to my Maker when I’m at the beach. This is not to say that I haven’t made mistakes, close friends know my stories, but it is something I’m striving for. I want to do that work for you, future man.
I’m convinced there is a balance somewhere – a man with Goliath Gonads and the expertise of when and where to use them. I shall choose to remain hopeful. The question is, will he look good in a picture when I show my friends, though?!!!
Still a work in progress…

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