A recent Boise State University study of 484 heterosexual women showed that “50% of the women had fantasies about other women that involved some kind of sexual experience”. Does this mean they’re bisexual? Lesbian? Bicurious? Who knows and, to a degree, who cares? We don’t need to label every thought that comes into our minds, unless doing so helps us in some way. I’d imagine that there are plenty of heterosexual men who’ve entertained a homoerotic fantasy at some point, but are reluctant to admit that for fear that doing so would “make” them gay. The same goes for sadomasochism and dominance and submission. Plenty of people get off to BDSM scenarios they wouldn’t necessarily want to try, yet too many are ashamed of these fantasies and don’t even fully admit them for fear of being seen as somehow deviant, when the fact is that eroticising power, helplessness and pain are extremely common.
Attraction and action are two distinct things. Sometimes they are one and the same, and visualising yourself in a given sexual situation will lead to wanting to pursue it, but not always. We need to put a higher value on the act of fantasising and recognise that it can help revive a relationship or be a tool in figuring out what arouses us. Maybe you fantasise about being with someone other than your longterm partner, or watching them with someone, or having sex in an exotic location, or being watched, or something that couldn’t ever happen in real life. Allowing yourself the freedom to simply explore what turns you on, sans judgment, is important.
It’s sometimes difficult to be a feminist submissive. Still, there is nothing in my sexual submission that is inherently inimical to my quest to be treated as equally strong and competent as are men. The reason that it sometimes feels that way is that certain people treat female submission as the default. It isn’t, and it shouldn’t be. Women are not inherently submissive to men. They’re not inherently dominant either. The genders, in this regard at least, are largely equal. Some individuals choose to submit to each other, and, on the whole, the inclination to do so is largely independent of their sex.
When I submit, I do it from a place of strength. I decide whether my partner is worthy of such a powerful and intimate gift, and I do not give my submission to anyone who does not both understand and appreciate the depths of what I am giving up for them. I value myself highly, and so I submit to people who realize that doing so does not make me less. I accept I am an intelligent, competent, submissive feminist – who sometimes finds her power by choosing to let it go.
t took years for me to embrace my submissive nature, in part because it seemed to be so antithetical to my feminist beliefs. Then I realized that part of being a feminist, for me, is taking control of my sexuality – admitting what I want, and finding a way to have it that keeps me safe in both body and mind.