Super honored to appear on SG’s homepage for the first time! It will only last 24 hours (the homepage appearance, not the essay!) so… catch it while you can HOMEPAGE LOVE

And, if you’re a late-bird, no need to squawk, read the latest column, “Red, White and Femme: Stealing Love,” about finding your inner voice under the sheets, below!

by Darrah de jour

I recently got a call from an ex-boyfriend (can I even call him that?) that I had dated for about one month a couple years ago. It would have been more brief, except that he was in Africa on a mission for three weeks, and when he returned, we broke up. Before he left, we met, and had sex. Well, we met, talked, then decided to hop in the sack. Unfortunately for me, he was inexperienced and believing virtue withstood the test of a woman’s sexual needs and intimate desires, he failed to satisfy even my most basic requisites. Like, giving me even a single orgasm after about four times doing the horizontal mambo.

Many times before meeting the chap, I’ve jokingly spouted, “Virgins are prude.” Not so much in an attempt to hurl insults at virgins or the born-again chaste, more to express my belief that America’s obsession with purity serves nobody. Sure, it’s great to not contract an STD from unprotected sex. Sure, it’s important not to wonder who the babydaddy is. Yes, preserving your reputation protects your quality of life and peace of mind. But, having safe, consensual, adult sex with another respectful, cool and hip person who knows their way around a bedroom, makes the above not such an issue. And that’s my point. In this obsession with purity, we’ve undermined…

READ the rest at SUICIDEGIRLS! Please leave your comments (here or on SG) if the spirit moves you, and feel free to SHARE widely!!

XOX Thanks!

Bust Magazine’s Aug/Sept. issue, which features teen fashion blogger Tavi Gevinson on the cover, also neatly tucks away amid its pages, a nifty li’l article about open relationships and marriages. Detailing that some can be temporarily open — the writer, Heather Buchheim, discovered her parents adopted this in the 70s — to open with transmuting rules.

Something interesting came up during my research, regarding a very anti-non-monagamy article. A commenter said, monogamy doesn’t equal loyalty. Meaning, somebody’s heart could be elsewhere, and they are “faithful” — but only with their body. Someone else brought up that it can have less to do with the other person, and more to do with how you view sex. The way I see it; feelings, situations, life paths, choices, etc. change as we evolve and grow as human beings and artists. How could boundaries, decisions, vows, etc. not change too? Contracts get resigned, loans get refinanced, how would what you want at twenty or thirty, be the same as what you want fifteen years down the line? Fervent detractors, however, bring up many salient points around theory versus practice. Many challenge the point of being in a relationship at all, if you want to sleep around.

Downsides, and there are plenty… you can’t be jealous. You have to play safe. Non-monagamy, in my mind, is for when the relationship is off the hook, key lime pie awesome, not when it’s souring like bad dairy. And, if your lady is pregnant, probably not a good time to ask if you can pack some Magnums for the babe down the block.

Read for yourself, and please leave a comment letting us know: do you think it’s possible to have a successful open relationship?

[Click on Thumbnails for larger picture!]

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Guest blogger Paul Lanning, Ed.D. is an educator and helps non-profit organizations raise funds to achieve their philanthropic goals. This week, he lent his pen to one of Suicide Redhead’s favorite topics: feminism! We’re thrilled to have a man canter so smoothly from his comfort zone into an area that we hope more men will freely explore. Feminism is a philosophy and practice that needs men to grow, and perhaps one day, it will be with the help of men, that we reach the unity we so desire. Read his piece and offer your voice in the comments section (click on blog post titles to leave comments). A balanced debate is necessary, so feel free to offer whatever opinion you have. And, of course, share freely!

By Paul I. Lanning, Ed.D.

I never realized, until recently, that a man could be a feminist.  It still sounds odd to me. When I hear the term I think of Gloria Steinem, or even of the mythical Rosie the Riveter from World War II. I never think of guys who believe in equality as ‘feminists.’  And maybe that’s part of the problem.

Feminism shouldn’t just be about strong women asserting themselves and vocally fighting for their place. It really should be about anyone and everyone who believes in equality standing up for those who traditionally have been and continue to be oppressed. This is true of gender as much as it’s true of races or religions (or the right not to practice a religion at all).

I grew up relatively oblivious. As a young white male in a relatively diverse California suburb attending public schools, I really never noticed overt signs of racism. And while I’m sure I was exposed to sexism, I didn’t recognize it. After all, I was a white male. What would I know?

In recent months I feel like I’ve had an awakening of some kind. Thanks to the rhetoric of the GOP primary season, I was spurred to start exploring what exactly was going on around me. I had trouble believing what I was hearing and seeing during the debates, and some of the restrictive legislation that was being proposed (and passed!) in states around the country.  This surely wasn’t the Republican Party I was a part of decades ago, when I was a member of the College Republicans chapter on my college campus.  The more I listened, the more I read, the less I could comprehend.
I recall flashing back at one point to a time in college when I stood listening to two Chinese students who had escaped their homeland after the Tiananmen Square massacre. It was one of the most moving experiences of my life, realizing both what these students and their peers had been through simply for espousing freedom, and how lucky (and sheltered) I was as a white male American. I got that same feeling recently, as I heard about women being censured for speaking out in the Michigan legislature, and Arizona passing a law allowing doctors to lie to women patients in the interest of putting the fetus ahead of the mother.

I began following the discourse more closely, and interacting with some fascinating writers who weren’t afraid to have their voices heard.  I listened, and discovered that indeed I have been sheltered, and oblivious.

When conservative white males (and the lemmings among the female species who follow them) put their own religion ahead of basic human rights, I am appalled. When sexual misconduct is laughed at or downplayed, my stomach turns. When doctors are able to keep potentially life-threatening news from a pregnant woman in the name of religion, I am in disbelief.

I don’t think I’m in the minority. I don’t believe that the majority of white males in America believe women are second-class citizens, playthings kept around to keep men happy but not to have minds or wills of their own. I can’t imagine that’s the state of our society in the 21st Century, despite what I continue to read and hear.

Yesterday I read of a sexual assault in Washington DC that occurred not long ago. A bicyclist cruised up to a woman and stuck his hand up her skirt, violating her very being before riding away laughing. It would be easy to pass this off as an isolated incident of some pervert getting his kicks, except that this particular woman (Liz Gorman) wrote a blog about it, and hundreds responded with their own stories of similar experiences and worse.
Thank goodness this woman and others like her are speaking out instead of staying silent. Thank goodness they’re upsetting the status quo. Thank goodness they’re waking people like me up to what is going on around us every day.

It’s always been hard for me to fathom that just months after I was born, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated, or that not long before that, not every citizen in this country could vote. It’s hard for me to believe that when both of my grandmothers were children, their own mothers weren’t legally able to vote. And I wonder what is becoming of our hard-fought freedoms today when our society seems deeply divided like no time I can remember, and a powerful segment seeks to limit or deny basic rights of others.

I fear for our future when I see adolescent and college-age guys being spoon-fed rapacious porn and jocular yet overtly sexist advertising that just feed into their levels of testosterone at that age. Couple this with how we continue to muffle women’s voices about sexual needs and desires, and we are raising another generation of coarse, close-minded men who rally around Daniel Tosh and don’t think twice about their sense of privilege or entitlement. Basically: bad lovers, bad fathers, absentee husbands. I grew up knowing the experience of having an adulterous, alcoholic father, and far too often I was an absentee husband in my own failed marriage, far more focused on career than relationship. That cycle needs to stop.

The stereotypical male is a sexist pig. He sees women as merchandise to be gazed at, and groped at. He sees himself as the master of his domain, and sex as HIS enjoyment, or even as his conquest. He may know of boundaries, but often feels they don’t apply to him. He laughs at sexist jokes, he gawks at pretty ladies like a slobbering schoolboy, and he is enabled and empowered by an advertising industry that gears its print and television ads at him – because, after all, the stereotypical male is the head of household, the breadwinner, and the decision maker.

I know this firsthand. I ran numerous websites and published a sexy cheerleaders calendar years ago that pandered to this demographic, and did it well. I gave no consideration to the fact that I was feeding the sexism machine, subjugating and objectifying women in the interest of making a buck. After all, the models I worked with were professionals who were thrilled to be on the sites or in the calendars, and my target demographic was those stereotypical white males who buy the merchandise.

Paul and the Gals

It’s time for feminism to be mainstream. It’s time for open-minded, forward-thinking men to realize that equality means embracing feminism. Feminism isn’t a bad word. It’s simply a cry for fairness in an unfair world dominated for far too long by a small segment of white males who have convinced too many of us that speaking out is wrong, that having a voice is a privilege rather than a right, and that somehow they know what’s best for all of us.
I shouldn’t be ashamed to be a white male. I shouldn’t feel like I need to explain myself and my views to women who automatically see me as a threat, or even as the enemy, simply because I am a white male. But I am, and I often do.

It’s far past time that men start listening, instead of always expecting to dominate the conversation. Only then will we be able to start ridding ourselves of the shameful stereotypes that we’ve been saddled with thanks to the brutish ways of many of our species. I’m a white male, and now I know I’m also feminist. And thank goodness for that. THAT I don’t need to apologize for.

Paul Lanning is co-founder and managing partner of RPR Fundraising, LLC, a Los Angeles-based consulting firm which specializes in advising education institutions and other non-profit organizations on fundraising, strategic planning, social media, marketing, and executive search. He also teaches graduate courses and advises doctoral students in education administration and leadership at University of the Pacific (Stockton, CA). He blogs about sports and philanthropy. Follow him on Twitter.

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I’m really honored to have an essay “Daddy Dearest: When Father Equals Fear” appearing on The Conversation website. Brit blonde host and wife of Nick from The Strokes, Amanda de Cadenet, handpicked the piece from a slew of others. It details growing up inside a less-than-perfect household, and how I finally made (some) peace with the patriarch of my nuclear family.

Will you help me? Please share/like and comment beneath the story. I’d love to hear your thoughts and appreciate the support! Who knows? Maybe – with your help – I’ll start writing for them more often!

XOX

Eleven years old

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In Betrayal We Trust
by: Darrah Le Montre

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about my friendships with other women. It seems that every time I start to get close to a female friend, something happens to elucidate our separate lives. Whether it’s pregnancy (theirs, not mine), a move, the bombardment of social networks, jealousy, a mistake on one of our parts that leads to a squabble, or outright deception or betrayal, I can’t help but wonder: will women ever form something as powerful as ‘the boys club’?

Being a self-proclaimed feminist, humanist and animal rights activist or selfishly, just a compassionate soul trying not to become Sartre’s wet dream, I understand that as women we have to consciously fight acrimony. Fight acrimony. Sounds like ‘the war on terror’ doesn’t it? Whatever, you know what I mean. If we believed everything media, society and The Man fed us (though, as Sarah Silverman said on The Conversation, “we are all The Man”) we would never be friends. Ever. Just wouldn’t happen. Or else, we’d be Twitter friends, and that’s just b.s. So, in attempting to form a united front of femininity and bonds of intimacy with female friends, I am dogged in my attempts to stay in touch despite friends getting married, having twins, having prominent careers and generally, having a life.

In the early stages, this works really well. I’m an exuberant, social loner. Anybody know what I mean? I love being a butterfly, but I also enjoy massive time with my dog, holed up in my li’l beachy abode, watching re-runs of Castle on Hulu. Leave me be. But, professionally and personally and with all the cool-arse women everywhere, I’d be a tool not to befriend some ladies. A ‘woman’s woman’ you might call me. Not super-competitive, not super-boring, and down to talk sex at any given moment… However, often times when trying to let my guard down, chicks have acted competitively toward me. Alpha women in particular, while inspiring, tend to make me feel like a kid with piss in her hands.

Recently, a close friend and business associate of mine and I planned a trip to New York. She and I needed this trip. We wanted this trip. This was going to be the shot in the arm after boy after smarmy boy came knocking and then took a shit on our welcome mats on their way out. After sussing out our dates and where we might be staying, certain events in her life equalled me being left in the dust. She booked her flight, arranged different overnight accommodations and left me to either fly alone and pay full-price for a hotel room, or not go. I chose not to go. Not to punish her, or me. But, because the combo of fear of flying and fear of the IRS not getting my quarterly installment left me hands-tied. I won’t lie, I was hurt. The blindsiding change of plans felt like a swift kick in the stomach. Normally, this would be about the time my inner child retreated with her toys. Getting out once the going got tough. Oh yeah, I think it’s fair to mention, I’m not the perfect friend, and my tendencies are to 1) leave 2) not communicate 3) not communicate and leave. But, being in recovery, and again, selfishly not wanting to repeat this mire next time around, I dished.

The difference for us, was that email after email exchange detailing my feelings about the situation was met with patience, explanation of her side, and proclamations of affection.

The sting has mostly wore off. Plus, we do some kick arse work together, and collaborative art and career stuff has always solidified my loyalty and motivation for pushing through the pain and out to the other side of unity. United front rebuilt, one intimate friendship at a time.

She’s one in a million, though. Most friends inundate me with Facebook messages littered with the word “should.” We should really get together, they say. We should make a plan! they enthuse. We should have a double date, they plot. These invitations, I’ve learned, are ego-based and not to be taken seriously. Write me with a date, time and place in mind, and I will surely hit you back. Check your ego at the door, and I’m your #1 Crush.

In return, I promise to keep speaking my mind, holding you near, and being there when your Babycakes cravings hit an all-time high. I’ll even tell you if there’s frosting on your lip. One step closer to the power of the ‘boys club’ but with more sex and more city.

Halloween, 1992

I’m really grateful to appear in all of the episodes of The Conversation, as a “woman on the street.” Better-termed, a notable woman who isn’t a celebrity (yet).

If you haven’t been watching, be sure to catch up at The Conversation website, which also serves as a community for women’s voices and stories. Men are welcome there to. Let’s learn from one another, so that we can get just that much closer to the elusive… UNITY.

View the latest episode, where I’m sprinkled throughout, dishing on topics like “your biggest vice,” “your favorite sex position,” and “what turns you on”? I’m looking forward to some of the other questions I answered in my segment, like “what would you tell your 14-year-old self”? Perhaps in a future episode!

This week’s episode was a sparkler, mostly because of Kelly Preston’s insight about sexual attraction, and Mira Sorvino – who serves as the UN Ambassador To Combat Human Trafficking – revealing the bleak realities of human trafficking and abuse of women, and her grandmother’s bravery amid domestic violence. Mira makes a great distinction between being sexually forthright and empowered, and allowing yourself to be objectified or taken advantage of. Personally, I wish our society would remove the burden and blame from women in avoiding rape, dealing with rape, and having to shirk the shame from being raped, instead insisting that Men learn to end the machist culture that promotes it. Talk about an opportunity for a unified front and spiritual elevation!

The Conversation with Amanda de Cadenet and exec producer Demi Moore, airs next on June 21, 11/10C on Lifetime. Catch the latest news and watch episodes and clips for free by signing up for their mailing list.

“I began experiencing my life as if it were my spiritual practice. We’re not all meant to be siting at the top of the mountain in silence.” Connie Britton

I came across an anecdotal quote, attributed to both George Bernard Shaw and more often, Winston Churchill.

A certain gentleman was attending a dinner party, and was seated beside a beautiful woman. He inquired of the lady as to whether she would be willing to sleep with him for 50,000 pounds. After some hesitation, the lady replied that she supposed she would, in consideration of the magnitude of the offer. Then he asked whether she would sleep with him for twopence.
“Certainly not,” she responded with indignation. “Just what kind of lady do you think I am?”

“Madam, I believe we have already established that,” he remarked calmly. “Now we are just haggling over the price.”

With all do respect to Churchill or Shaw or any number of reputable sources that celebrate this: Am I the only one wondering, being as averse as I am to macho culture, and weary of anything resembling it, why a man would go to a dinner party, sit alongside a beautiful woman, and try to denigrate her? And, why, in our society, she’s the whore, and he’s the genius?

Is this some grand point that every woman has a price? That given the opportunity, she’d bury herself below a man, to get ahead? That, desperate enough, any woman’s roar can be muffled, manipulated or bought? Well, congratulations! (Of course, you take away the possibility that a woman might *choose* a career in sex work, and (gasP!) even enjoy it.)

I have a sense of humor (a crass one at that, much of the time). But it’s funny how as men and women, when intimidated, annoyed or out of power, we so easily bear arms and slice through the femininity or masculinity of our “opponent.” Seems the last thing a gentleman or lady would truly ever do.

Please welcome guest blogger Sonja Alarr. In this Suicide Redhead exclusive, Life Coach and funny lady Ms. Alarr will explore the phenomenon behind bestselling BDSM mainstream erotica “50 Shades of Grey.”

50 Shades of Yuck
by Sonja Alarr

Okay, so everyone I know has read this “book” called 50 Shades of Grey. People are talking about it online—my neighbors are into it, the moms at the school, lots of coaches I know. So, being the kind of gal who’s always afraid of being left out of the cool girls’ doings, I bought myself a copy and read the thing.

I have to say—well, I have to say many things, the main one being: Huh?

I just don’t get it. I’m stupefied. But not in a good way.

I truly think this is the worst book I’ve ever read. Oh, not the erotica part, I love reading erotica, that never bothers me. It’s the crappy writing, the inexcusably bad grammar, the endless repetition of the word “clamber,” the impossibly stupid characters that bothered me. This book made Jacqueline Susann’s Valley of the Dolls look like a Pulitzer Prize finalist.

But even the dreadful writing didn’t bother me as much as the innocent, virgin girl enjoying being controlled and abused by the remote handsome sociopath dressed in billionaire’s clothing.

And even that didn’t bother me as much as the fact that some of the smartest and most successful, powerful women I know LOVE this book.

Like I said: I just don’t get it.

But it got me to thinking. I mean, I’ve talked about this book now with a lot of people, and I am absolutely in the minority with my opinion. People know it’s poorly written, but they just don’t care. They loved the characters. They get aroused by the sex scenes. They don’t care that he’s dominant and she’s submissive, that’s what makes it hot.

Wow! This is where my degree in Feminist Theory raises its admittedly un-dyed head. Why is being submissive a turn-on, especially to such strong women? Because I notice that the most successful women I know are the ones who like this book the most. I talked to a friend (who loves the book) about this—she’s one of the most successful women I know—great at her job, well-paid, very much a go-getter. And she said that she has so much she feels she needs to control: her job, her home, the kids’ activities and well-being, her weight, her finances, everything, really—and that she’s just sick of it, she would love someone to take over, to be strong and tell her exactly what to do. She’s just plain tired. And I can see that, though I could talk a long time about the illusory nature of control… In any case. what I heard her saying was that she’s tired of making decisions. That she’d love someone to decide where to go on a date, what she should wear, what she should eat; and to be the forceful one in sex. (Though she admits she wouldn’t like to give up making decisions about her job and lots of other things.)

So okay, forceful, crazy sex and being so desired that someone wants to do me right here and now up against the bathroom wall at Ruth’s Chris does sound fun. Sex like that conjures youth and the best kind of insanity; it is very fun to be that dizzy with desire. But the book doesn’t just talk about desire, it talks about punishment and I have to wonder—why is that a turn on or a need? Do love and punishment feel the same? Still? Even after all these years of therapy, all these years of Oprah? Do successful women feel the need to be punished for being successful in what is still male-dominated culture? Or does it not feel like men are dominant in the United States anymore and that what we need is the forcefulness and not so much the punishment? And do we still believe that the love of a good woman can change an abusive, narcissistic and remote man? And does the fact that the main character is so rich have anything to do with the joy of submission? I wonder: if the man were poor, would he be called a “dominant” or just a guy who participates in domestic violence?

Now, I know. I sound like a self righteous shrew… (Remember that joke: How many feminists does it take to screw in a lightbulb? One! And that’s not funny!) What’s the big deal? It’s just a book, right? Just fantasy we can escape into. Stop analyzing it!

I know. And I only read one book, and (spoiler alert) I was delighted that by the end, she’d finally grown enough self-respect to leave him (after being whipped…) but there are two other books, so one can only surmise she goes back to him…and oh I just find that so depressing. I just keep thinking of all the young women who will read this and internalize the message that somehow, it’s okay to give up all your own agency, that somehow, if you just love him enough, he’ll change for you. And that has just not been my experience, nor my observation of others’ experiences. And, too, it bums me out that this poorly written tome is the one that’s making it finally okay for women to publicly rejoice in erotica, when there’s so much out there that is so much better. Read Anais Nin! Read James Joyce’s letters to Nora! Read Lonnie Barbach’s collections!

And yet—it’s so interesting to me that this is what so many women are choosing for their escape. It is so in the culture right now, so in the zeitgeist. It seems worthy of some sort of discussion…this fascination with domination and submission.

I have to give this book credit for this: it did get me thinking about where I am dominant and submissive in my own life. Where do I give up agency?

And, dammit, I have to admit, I give up my agency in a lot of ways. I’m not good with money and I don’t look it in the eyes. I let food whip me every day. And then I let my lizard whip me about letting food whip me. I let my unwillingness to exercise take over. I say yes when I should be screaming my “safe word” (NO!) at the top of my lungs.

And where am I dominant? I’m far less sure about this one. I try to facilitate experiences with my kids, I don’t want to dominate them. Or my husband either. In fact, I’m completely uncomfortable with the idea of my own power being used to gain control over almost everything. I got to thinking: maybe the fact that I’m not dominant in a lot of ways is why I get so irritated with this book. Maybe I see too much of myself in the unrelentingly pliable Ana. Conversely, maybe that’s why the really strong women I know like the idea of submission so well. They don’t see themselves in her at all.

I’m still thinking about this, though I’m loath to admit that this book has given me anything of value to think about. And I haven’t come to many solid conclusions. Except for this: The best place I know to be dominant is within my own willingness to think about things, to try to see from many perspectives. To be willing. And the only place that I believe it wise to be submissive? Hmmm. I guess that would be in my own soul. When my mind is thrashing with craziness and too many words, if I can get my brain to calm down and submit to my soul’s wisdom, then that’s submission I don’t mind. But I think that’s because it doesn’t feel like submission, it feels like balance. Balance. And I believe that may be what’s missing for most of us right now. Too much dominance, too much submission. When what we crave is just the right amount of each.

Sonja Alarr is a certified life coach and sometime actor/writer/singer. She just finished an original show called Life (coaching) is a Cabaret, which is being looked at for development on Lifetime; and she will be performing it again in NYC in the fall. She has a degree in theatre from CalArts, and one in Feminist Theory and English Literature from Cal State Long Beach. But she got those a long time ago. Now, she mostly hangs out, writing, singing and coaching. She has two kids ages 8 and 10 and is just nuts about them; along with an amazing husband, ditto the nuts part. You can find her at http://www.unwrapthepresent.com

Kate Bornstein, Susie Bright, Dan Savage — the top names in kink, trans-issues, gay-sex, non-monagomy, you name it — will appear on sex educator and feminist pornographer Tristan Taormino’s new radio show on Sex Out Loud Radio.  Catch TT every Friday evening from 8pm EST/5pm PST.

Sounds cool but don’t know who Tristan is?  Read our SuicideGirls interview, and catch up on all things sexy & sensual (anal sex, polyamory, to drink or to lube, and when to tell your partner you are so much more than vanilla!)

Congrats, Double T!  From Village Voice to Lesbian Erotica Anthologies, to mobile sex-ed classes around the world to Sex Out Loud — my future husband will thank you!

Hi Friends, Dear Readers, Ex-Lovers, Mentors and Happy Strangers:

I’m really happy to announce my debut in glamazon, vegan mom, fashionista and brassy babe Chloe Jo Berman’s site GirlieGirl Army! My story is on the front page along with the hand of god. (Does it get any better?)

Lessons in Recovery: Who’s Your Daddy? is about dating while in Al-Anon, finding your “god” (the higher power of your understanding), finding a man, and finding the right shoes to go with it all.

GGA is a spirited community of activists, artists, hipsters, and others in New York City, and beyond, who support each other online. GGA got a boost when Emily Deschanel name-checked it on the Jimmy Fallon show. Even before then, it courageously built a following one-person-at-a-time for ten years, via a weekly email listy (‘member those?) about recipes, ethical fashion, local yoga/nutrition/vegan merchants, and dog rescue. Now, it’s exploded into something much more!

Can I ask you a favor?
PLEASE “like”/comment/share this debut of mine! I would really appreciate it. It’s first in a three-part series, that will surely include: more sex, more sensuality, and more ruminating on strong bonds, like female friendships and boyyyys.