the term "objectification" feels so watered down, lately. it is used almost like a joke, an ostentatious bow on a horrific experience. how many movies have i seen where the single female, wearing barely-anything, snaps - don't objectify me. the joke is, i think, that the movie will continue to objectify her. that her complaint is vapid and ignorant. objectification is to be expected, it is innate.
it is casual dehumanization.
how many podcasts by men about a woman's value. as a lesbian, this is funny when it isn't heartbreaking. men listen to other men talk about how to "get bitches"; these men are known to be detested by said bitches. it seems their methodology is one of a numbers game: to obtain the bitch in question, one simply has to keep trying an infinite number of times - they are not looking for a particular person or personality. yet if a bitch does seem interested; their value is inherently lowered by that desire. after all, why would you want to date someone who you pick up at a bar? this bitch - you do not need to get to know her. she is an object for your sexual desire, and should be discarded. every other bitch that denies your advance is a real bitch and you should discard her as well, it's not worth your time.
the male loneliness epidemic, i'm told, has nothing to do with sexism. rather, it is actually the fault of women, who are neglecting an emotional labor that is unpaid and unrewarded. women are supposed to be a man's entire emotional support structure; their sole nurturer, teacher, therapist (regardless of the number of women who reply that feels like i'm his mom). if a woman does not want to adhere to this incredibly luxurious one-sided effort, that is her fault. she is encouraging his loneliness. and sure, true, these men have often been told to view other men as potential threats, as rivals. true, these men have been cautioned against ever actually trusting a woman.
but after all, how are you going to feel emotionally close to an object?
the term is candid in its approach, and maybe that is half of the problem. something in the honesty of the word itself (object-ification) has rendered it unable to translate the sheer desolation of the experience.
there's an incorrect idea that to be objectified, one must be beautiful. that the objectification is only about desire. any fat woman can tell you differently. any person who is not an able-bodied white male can tell you differently. the law at times will tell you differently - treating a useless clump of cells as being more important than your human life.
and it is so pervasive as to become almost subatomic. how many times have women said when i find out a guy friend has only been my friend because he wants to fuck me, it ruins me. how many times have women said i love him but he literally sees me as a piece of meat. how many times have women begged and cajoled and pleaded their case, even in the smallness of their personal lives. how many of us have said i feel like you have no idea who i am. you aren't listening.
it can be fun to play in this space, of course. who doesn't like putting on lingerie and reminding him what he is dating. still, later, in bed and sticky, you'll think - shit. why do i need to be an object in order to be sexy? there's a thrill in being wanted, certainly.
an object in comparison, kind of. the object of the female body is so pervasive as to not even register to other women. the other day while playing a mobile game, my brother let out a little cry of alarm at what he saw on my phone - i hadn't realized the ad that had loaded was a gambling app's almost-porn.
i was told once that the reason models are so skinny is that they are not supposed to exist. the idea is that they are objects, that since the clothes are the art on display, these human people are actually more akin to coat hangers. why is it that i have been taught all models are stupid and vapid? surely they have internal lives and experiences, right? there's maybe a level of attractiveness a woman is allowed to be before the assumption is that she's stupid (but pretty).
it is very often in my life that i find myself trying to figure out what degree of attractiveness will force people take me seriously. if you are attractive in the "right way," that is acceptable. to be too-attractive or not-attractive-enough is abhorrent. even in professional spaces: my acceptance as a human person is somewhat defined by the aesthetic of my body.
an object to sell cars. an object to sell the video game. an object to sell gambling apps. an object to decorate your house as a live-in mother/maid.
at a bar with a coworker, he tells me that he isn't like other men; he reads books and paints his nails (and good for him). he takes a moment to sip his beer and then adds, "but i mean, i'm not like crazy about it."
like a person can be crazy about feminism.
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