Hi, I’m Jeannette and this is The Sex Beat, a newsletter documenting my research on sex. As always, if you no longer want to get this newsletter, unsubscribe here. I don’t really keep track of subscribers, so I won’t know 😉.
Last week’s piece on “mothers who like sex” led to some interesting conversations, which I will write more about when I’ve somewhat processed my thoughts.1 But one question that these conversations led me to is this: Who does a woman’s body belong to?
It’s easy to say, “It belongs to herself.” But if your body is expanding and contracting, leaking and discharging, in unexpected and uncontrollable ways, does it still feel like you own your body?
This doesn’t just apply to pregnancy, but also puberty. I don’t know how men experience puberty – if anyone would like to enlighten me, I’d be happy to listen – but as a young girl going through it, I felt separated from my own body.
There was a new heaviness to my physique and I didn’t know how to carry its weight. It felt as if it happened overnight.
I went from a small, skinny child – often mistaken for a boy – to this gangly teen, awkwardly towering over most of the boys in my class. And suddenly, I was not allowed to whistle, or wrestle, or indiscriminately climb things anymore. Because that was not what girls were supposed to do.
In church, I learned that as a woman, I had to conceal my body to “protect my brothers-in Christ”. And so I learned that my body was powerful – but only on sexual terms – and that it wasn’t always my power to wield.
The body is a rascal
I write today’s issue with slightly swollen hands, typing away on my keyboard and trying to ignore the tightness of the skin around my knuckles.
I suspect it was the peanuts served as yesterday’s pre-dinner snack, or perhaps it was the mid-course prawn dish, but by the end of the night, I had to pop antihistamines.
The problem is that in spite of the medical tests I’ve done, I don’t know what’s causing these allergies. I’ve already mostly given up garlic and onions; what else do I have to forgo?
Is this yet another way I am being reminded that I don’t own my body? And if so, who does it belong to?
I guess to answer some of the questions I have, I would have to explore the concepts of ownership and agency.
If you have any helpful resources, I would love recommendations.
Today’s piece is short, because of {{ reasons }}.2 But I wanted to maintain a publishing schedule (a kind of resolution, even though it’s not the new year anymore).
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I’ve been coding again, and these curly brackets are where variables from the backend are inserted into the frontend. In this case, reasons = feeling under the weather, being generally sleep-deprived, still recovering from all the Chinese New Year gatherings (even though it’s been almost a week since the 15th day of the new year).