Yes indeed, I run what the general population would call a “sex blog.” I spend my days drafting posts about sex toys, porn, and more sex toys. I am incredibly open about my sexual rendezvous (although I’ve never wanted to write erotica or anything like it, making me a lot less explicit than some other sex bloggers). And yes, dear god, I hang out on Twitter, Google Talk, and Facebook, where my musings about sexy things are published to those who follow me.
This should not be an invitation to wheedle, harass, or talk dirty to me — yet some men take it as one.
Clearly, they feel entitled. They feel that my sex blogging immediately positions me as a sex object, or at least a person who can be messed with on a sexual level. I’m guessing they are not used to a woman being so nonchalant about her sexuality, and this (unnecessarily) arouses them. Whatever the bullshit reason, I’m fucking sick of it.
Trigger warning: What follows is a conglomeration of the many ways I have been inappropriately spoken to online by men. Underneath that, enjoy some serious bitching from yours truly.
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ENTITLED THOUGHT #1: “You are masturbating, therefore I am welcome to join in.”
I jack off. A lot. I’m a sex toy reviewer, and I simply enjoy having long, drawn-out masturbation sessions. In fact, I have been known to chat with people mid-masturbation, because I’m always at a computer watching porn. Sometimes I tweet while jacking off. This results in DMs such as: “hi you know i can help nxt time. ” Oh yes — I’ll definitely get on that.
Last May, a dude I had been @ replying with on Twitter asked if we could chat on Google Talk. This was, honest to god, our first exchange:
Me: hey there
Me: im in the middle of jacking off and about to go to bed
Me: it’s 5:23am here
Dude: Mmmm…cum for me
Dude: its gettin my cock hard
Me: no offense, but i thought you said chat, not have cybersex
Dude: chat. but, i was just tryin to help you out..my bad
I should’ve blocked him. I really should’ve. But then I wouldn’t have these other gems to share with you from our next (and last) conversation…
ENTITLED THOUGHT #2: “You are comfortable talking about sexuality, so I will wow you with my ‘enormous’ penis.”
The next time that same dude IMed me, he was quick to congratulate himself two minutes after the conversation started — “See. We can have a convo thats NOT about sex. Lol” — but of course, it did become about sex. Very quickly. He wanted to know how big my boyfriend’s penis was. I told him I’d never measured it, but that shorter was better for G-spot stimulation.
Dude: Really? You think so
Me: the g-spot is only a few inches inside the vagina
Me: shallow thrusting is often encouraged if you want to hit it
Dude: Well with me its the toe-tal opposite.
Dude: Im 7″ long but not thick and it works everytime.
Of course it does. Of course it does.
Dude: The ladies are like Wow! once they see it. I have made 1 chic squirt in my history of sexual adventures.
Me: it is my goal in life to be able to squirt during sex
Me: but i require so much speed its nearly impossible… so far
Dude: Speed as in thrust wise.
Dude: Im ur man. Lol.
Me: i dont think it is physically possible for any person to thrust that fast
Dude: Doggie and anal with me is amazin. Im not as quick and fast as a vibe but i hold my own.
That was where I decided I was over this fucking guy. (Did I mention this guy supposedly has a girlfriend? Supposedly.)
ENTITLED THOUGHT #3: “What? I’m complimenting you!”
In August of last year, I received this piece of work in my message box on Facebook, with the enticing subject “HI CUTTIE.”
Nice to meet U. . .so pleased 2 knw U so much addicted 2 sex,can be so luvly so watch porN Alot. . .so sex makes u WILD&HORNY. . .ur blog iz so fascinatin’,expect moore 4rm U. . .seem U luv sex toys more than ur boyfrend’s Flaccid PeNiS. . .
WAY TO COMPLIMENT A WOMAN IN AN EXTREMELY HAPPY AND COMMITTED RELATIONSHIP. Great fucking job.
ENTITLED THOUGHT #4: “Any time is sex time. With you, person I don’t know at all.”
I didn’t think this particular guy would stoop so low. He had emailed me back in April, asking me, “as a feminist,” what I thought of Howard Stern. He wrote, among other things, “I tend to associate with the ideas of feminism but I sure love porn and sex.” He complimented my site and we exchanged a few completely normal emails. And that would be all well and good, except for the sudden instant message I received in November (which I ignored):
And the next one I received in December:
To which I replied, “…?” And his response was: “are you horny, a simple enough question? sort of like ‘having a good day?’”
Actually, no, that’s not a “simple question.” It’s fucking harassment. You do not know me. We are not friends. We have never spoken on Google Talk. You do not have the right to ask me if I’m horny, let alone get any fucking answer about it.
So this guy, who claims to “associate with the ideas of feminism,” feels entitled to begin a conversation with me by asking if I’m horny (and, phrased this way, it sounds like I pretty much should be). Oh yeah, that’s definitely feminist. Fucking hell.
ENTITLED THOUGHT #5: “You are female, so suck my dick.”
Then the straw that broke the camel’s back. A couple days ago, I checked my Formspring inbox, and there was this eloquent question:
would u suck my dick to save my life?
This pisses me off because it’s so fucking smug. I can just see this douchebag, submitting that and sitting back in his chair with a sickly self-satisfied grin on his face. She has to say yes! Or else she’ll look like she would let a person die! [queue disgusting laughter and the inevitable drag from a Hamm's.]
I deleted that shit so fast.
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The sad thing about these encounters is that they are not rare. This kind of shit happens to most, if not all, women who write about sexuality online (and many who don’t). This sense of entitlement is everywhere, and we need to start speaking up about it. Britni writes:
When you ask me what my favorite toy is and I respond that I love my Hitachi, it is not okay for you to respond (on our first, second, or third conversation) with, “I wanna watch u use it on urself,” or, “o yea? u cum hard?” Dude. I’m not trying to have cyber sex with you right now! And people don’t seem to get that my tone of professionalism and my cold responses are implying that they are stepping over a line.
And that is where I feel I’m not being enough of a feminazi. Like with big dick guy, I kept talking to him, trying to be nice, trying not to take offense. But you know what? I’m offended. I’m really fucking offended that these guys think they can talk to me the way that they do. I’m tired of feeling alone in this, because I know (and mourn the fact that) I’m not. In fact, as I was writing this post, I asked a toy-reviewing friend whether something similar had ever happened to her. She thought that it hadn’t… then she realized it had.
If this has happened to you, please, make a big stink about it. I’ve already been quiet too long.
And to every guy who feels entitled to come on to me, insinuate shit about me, cyber with me — fuck you. Fuck you for being too stupid or too inconsiderate to think about my feelings. Fuck you for assuming that, because I am a sexual person and I express some of that on the internet, that you get to be my next sexual partner. Fuck you for not caring that I’m in a monogamous and happy relationship with a man who has a brain that comes before his cock. And fuck you for making me feel like there’s no way I can win against you — because explaining this to you won’t make a difference, and ignoring you makes me angry.
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NOTE: I will not be allowing victim-blaming comments on this post. I want this to be a safe space where we can all feel comfortable sharing our experiences.
Here are some posts from others on similar subjects. Contact me if you have a post I could add to the list.
- Same shit, different site
- What not to say
- Question sixteen
- I get harassed for being a woman who reviews toys and talks about sex
- Being promiscuous doesn’t necessarily mean I will fuck you
- Loose associations
- Is it possible to block all dating site emails? Forever?
- Douchebag exposure
- Flake Factor