Is That All There Is?

I just cannot drag my mind away from the spectacle presented by the youngsters that we saw at the Irish Pub on Saturday evening.  I'll admit that I was seriously taken aback by what I saw.  Call me old.  It never was my thing to hang out in bars, even when I was a number of decades younger than I am now.  So, maybe it has ever been thus, but I am finding that the behaviors that I saw made me sad, and I remain sad. 

I don't think that I am prudish.  I don't even think that I am particularly "traditional" in my views about male and female relating.  I know that sex is a big part of that equation, and I am right there when it comes to supporting the view that women ought to have as much leeway and say-so in creating sexual liasons as their male counterparts.  I spent a very big part of my young adulthood working to assure that women would have those options, and the fact that change has come to the "dating" and "mating" scene seems like an affirmation of the campaigning lots of us did so many decades ago.

But, to be blunt, what I saw on Saturday was not at all about equality or rights or having choices.  These young women were, from what I could see, inebriated and, as a result, willing to fall into a fuck-fest with any randy young dude that looked willing -- and how many young dudes are there on the planet that would not be willing?  I didn't see choosing happening.  As far as I could tell (and I admit I could be wrong), there was a fairly random shuffling, and however it fell out at the end, that's how folks headed off for various horizontal accommodations.

I think that, in today's vernacular, this sort of thing is refered to as a "hookup."  A hookup (colloquial American English) is casual sex activity that could consist of manual stimulation, oral sex, or sexual intercourse. An extended hookup sometimes refers to prolonged instances of casual sex interactions. This is a situation in which the involved parties occasionally meet for casual sex multiple times.  This is a casual relationship specifically for sex and without any emotional aspect. This may be refered to as No Strings Attached (NSA) sex.  Other colloquial terms used to describe two people engaged in a relationship in which there is no emotional but purely sexual involvement are "fuck buddies", "friends with benefits", "booty call", and "ami calin" (the popular French term).

A "hookup" seems to me like settling.  Instead of investing the time and energy to create a truly intimate relationship, those who "hookup" settle for connecting via body parts.  No need for messy relatedness.  In the hookup situation, nobody has to find out about anybody's past or present or family or hobbies or fears or dreams or plans or odd quirks.  It is all about rubbing up against each other.  Nothing more and nothing less.  Sad. 

How did we come to such a pass?  How is it that our young people, our sons and daughters (at least if you are my age, they seem like they could be a son or daughter), have come to understand that hooking up is a reasonable equivalent for dating and romancing and wooing and learning to become lovers and friends?  Did we teach them that?  If we did, why did we do that?  Did we intend this? 

Maybe ... just maybe we started down the path during all those years when, as young parents we insisted that our children not encounter any sort of challenge to their self-esteem.  I remember when, in the elementary schools that my children attended, no one was ever allowed to lose or to fail.  Every sports team had an "everybody plays" rule, and field days were events where every child who participated got a ribbon.  Teachers graded papers in purple ink so that seeing a paper covered in RED INK didn't destroy that oh-so-delicate self esteem.  What, I wonder, did we teach all those little ones who are now in their late 20's and 30's with all of that careful and self-conscious cheering from the sidelines?  Was the unintended message that everyone is the same; that there is no distinction between one potential connection and another; that it really doesn't matter who you are or how you feel -- any port in a storm is the best you can hope for?  Did we teach our precious children that there is really no difference at all that is worth paying attention to?

And what about all of us that were card-carrying feminists in the late 1960's and early 1970's?  We envisioned a world where our daughters and grand-daughters would have the same freedoms and choices as our fathers and brothers enjoyed.  We marched and we petitioned and we lobbied for the changes that would ensure that those choices would come to be the birthright of generations of women in a future that we could only imagine.  Did we, in insisting that women should have the SAME RIGHTS, unknowingly set up the expectation that women and men were THE SAME?  Did we set in motion the changes that would bring our dear daughters to a day when making fools of themselves in public drinking venues has come to be viewed as "sexy" and "alluring?" 

Then, as I grapple with this in my own mind, I come down to the latter day craze of polyamory.  It is, in these Internet driven, socially networked days, all the rage.  Everyone is doing it -- or so it would seem.  It is "uncool" to be possessive of your mate.  The ultimately unsophisticated emotion is jealousy.  Being poly is in.  What we've said, those of us who have embraced this "new" love style, is that those who are with it, evolved, self-aware, and ultimately cool, have "many loves."  There is something warped and stunted about that "coupled up" sort of intimate relating.  Better, we have insisted, to form vast, wide-flung webs of sexual partners who can answer to our varied and disparate needs.  We've said it over and over and over and over until our children have come to believe what we've preached to them -- more lovers makes more ...

I think my sadness is partly projection.  I am watching those young women making choices to not connect, to settle for piecemeal, shallow, casual relatedness, and I know that the day will come when they will be alone in their old women's bodies wondering what they might have missed, and where they chose the lonely path.  I also think that my sadness is about feeling complicit in teaching lessons that I never contemplated.  I believe that loving deeply and completely is a good and glorious thing, and I have been part of teaching otherwise.  I am guilty, and I will forever be sorry.

swan