Women are a vital part of society and humanity. The important women in my life are intelligent, compassionate, fearless and strong. Women are more valuable than men in a biological sense. When we think about the occurrence of a post-apocalyptic-proverbial-repopulating-the-earth scenario, we always think about one man and woman doing so Adam-and-Eve style. But the most efficient and productive situation would be for there to be more women than men. If you were to have a 3 to 1 ratio–three women for every one man–then three babies could be engendered at once. The inverse ratio would only produce one baby every 9 months and two dead men, leading us back to our familiar Edenic dead-end state, which by all accounts would fail if either person died.
When I was 6, I remember stealing a picture from my parents’s bedroom–meant for one of my mom’s single brothers–of one of my dad’s sisters in a bikini. This incestuous pre-Tinder match-up would have been foiled had my parents not found out that I had swiped it. At that age, it’s hard to keep a porn stash hidden. I remember taking it because I wanted to look at it. I don’t remember deriving any form of pleasure from it, I simply wanted to see what all the fuss was about. From a young age, men are expected to find these types of pictures attractive. I really didn’t see and still don’t see the appeal.
When it comes to dating, women tend to be more sincere and subtle, harder to read and to obtain in spite of the best laid plans of men looking to get laid. However, once enamored, they become loyal until the end, taking on the role of Bonnie to their man’s Clyde. Men are a different story. They are insincere and forthright, easy to read and obtain; one woman can have as many as she wants. Unlike some women who stay with their men even when they’re prisoners or at war or prisoners of war, most men already have a foot out the door. Guys are in perpetual starvation mode, constantly seeking for the next prey; a fresh kill to satiate their lustful appetite. They think that being this way is part of what being a man is all about. These type of men are like farmers trying to pitch their seeds into fertile soil, even if another farmer is currently plowing the field. Their pavonine promulgation of their virility via texts messages of tasteless cartoon eggplants dilute the timeless art of seduction and turn it into a desiccated mockery.
Blaming social media seems to be the most popular way of explaining why a social phenomenon has reached the lowest of the low; but when it comes to dating and the relationships between men and women, it seems perfectly appropriate to do so. Social media has brought out the worst in us and splayed it out on display for everyone to feast upon like a submissive dog spreading its loins in the middle of a living room full of guests, waiting for one of them to scratch its belly.
While most women will take and posts pictures of themselves in flattering poses and lighting, men proudly photograph their genitals in unflattering poses and lighting. To a woman, a penis only preoccupies one minute part of her life, but to men, it’s an all encompassing and all consuming preoccupation and past time. If it were socially permissible, some men would include their penis size on their Facebook account and résumé. A CV would take on a new meaning and stand for “Cock Vitae-lity”. Although they would never admit it, some straight guys prefer the idea of their penises inside of a woman more than the idea of being with a woman. Women, like underwear, are another place in which to place a penis that are both disposable and replaceable.
My affinity for the feminine gender is more than just a sweet infatuation. It’s sultry, full of desire and passion. It’s less like umami and more like “Uy, mami.” I explicitly remember seeing a commercial when I was 7 while visiting my maternal grandparents in Tijuana, Mexico. It was a public service announcement on breast cancer, in a foreboding black and white, which featured a nude body model giving her back to the camera exposing the line that ran from the bottom of her neck, in between her shoulder blades all the way down her slender back, fading right before reaching her back dimples. The camera kept panning to different “primetime-TV-safe” shots of her nude body, occasionally showing some “side-boob,” which to a second-grader was more than enough breast to get them hot and bothered. The image and sound of the woman narrating how she would “touch and explore” her breasts was the equivalent of a Danielle Steele novel. Those commercials were for me what seeing a shirtless man on TV must have been for my gay counterparts.
My infatuation with women goes beyond the confines of what right-wing Judeo-Christian society deems “straight.” From a young age, I have always analyzed a woman’s behavior and would ponder on the inner workings of their brains. On one occasion, I was watching a TV movie in which a woman was fighting off a group of men trying to sexually assault her. In my 8-year-old mind, I thought that it would be a terrific idea to pose that situation in the form of a question to my mom. Her answer didn’t quite take the form called for in a teachable moment but rather that of a slap square in the face. On another occasion, we were watching a movie where another woman undid the knot of her button-up sleeveless denim shirt tied at the waist, exposing the inner part of her dangling breasts, inviting an armed man to approach her, distracting him so that she could then disarm him. Having been slapped before on similar charges, I didn’t even turn to look at my mom. Slap me once, shame on you, slap me twice, shame on me. At that moment, I understood that most real women would not want to be in those types of situations.
You could say that part of my understanding of women came from movies, books and TV, but doesn’t most of our understanding of everything come from those sources? You could also say that my mom was horrible for letting me watch movies that portrayed sexual violence against women and you would be correct, but isn’t it more horrible that this type of violence is so prevalent in the media that we consume on a daily basis?
Women are lovable. Men, on the other hand, not so much. There’s a level of respect that all humans need to give to one another, regardless of gender, race, creed or wealth. In an ideal world without these categorizations, this respect would be woven into the fabric of our society. However, we don’t live in an ideal world. So in lieu, men need to go out of their natural way of doing things and be respectful to women, all women; strange women specially, not just their mothers, aunts and sisters. This bogus familial jurisdiction is just an excuse not to respect women at all. Try to remember the last time you were a jerk to your mom or any other woman in your family. Just because they put up with it, kiss-and-make-up with you, doesn’t mean that they like it. It’s not “messing around” it’s called guys being jerks and being too arrogant to see it. Gender inequality–along with any strain of it–will cease to be as divisive and damaging as it is when we realize that men and women don’t owe anything but one thing to one another. That one thing is respect.
Jose Oseguera 