Sex, Fantasy, and Fifty Shades

Lately I’ve seen a lot of hype about the film rendition of Fifty Shades of Grey across the internet. Mostly it’s been a lot of protesting about how the story promotes sexual abuse and dominance. Personally I’m not really interested in the books or the movie, so my critique of the story would be limited at best. But I’m not here to write a critique – there are plenty already out there. I’m here to tell you some of my thoughts based on what I’ve observed about this latest uproar.

My concern lies in the conversations I read about how it’s a shame that young people today are indulging in stories like these and will not have a firm understanding of what true love or a satisfying sex life looks like. Before I continue, let me say that in no way do I condone sexual abuse, and I certainly hope that this post doesn’t come across that way. What I am saying is that we shouldn’t wait for stories like Fifty Shades to go viral before we start talking about how sex should be.

Upon looking up the author, I found a quote of hers that said that this story was essentially her sexual fantasies, which, in my opinion, puts a different perspective on how I view the story. While a woman may not publicly admit it, I think there exists in many women’s minds fantasies that are not intended to be played out in real life, be they sex with a stranger, being forcefully tied down, etc. Thoughts and emotions that allow the person to feel as though they’re not completely in control (while in reality they still are) help to increase the tension of the moment, making it more exciting and therefore easier to climax. When you put those fantasies on a screen, however, they turn into something seen as dominating and abusive, because it’s not meant to make sense in real life (hence why it’s a fantasy).

For those of you who don’t want your children to see this movie because you want to explain to them how beautiful true love and healthy sex is, that’s great. The problem is, not everyone wants to have that conversation, especially, I find, those of the more conservative mindsets. If you can’t even say the word sex without giggling or blushing, you’re probably not the first person I’m going to go to for advice in the matter. That’s why the majority of my sex ed came from Wikipedia, Urban Dictionary, and Game of Thrones. Google didn’t blush. It didn’t pause in an awkward silence thinking, “oh crap, I have to have this conversation with her.” It simply gave me the answers I was looking for and then some. And yes, some people did offer to talk about any questions I had. But I was so ignorant of my own body that I didn’t even know what questions to ask.

Maybe you giggle or smile because you have a great sex life. Maybe you’re remembering the night you had with your partner last week. But I can’t tell what you’re thinking. All I read is a change in your demeanor, which then makes me uncomfortable and feel that maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up.

For those of you who wonder why anyone would want to sit through a movie like that in a dark theatre surrounded by people, maybe it’s because it feels like a safe place. Maybe there are a lot of confused or frustrated young people trying to understand their bodies and biological functions, but can’t find the answers they need because their elders are too embarrassed to talk about it. Or if they aren’t, the conversation is weighted with fear that somebody is going to fuck somebody into abomination. And so in a way it almost makes sense to me to want to escape to the theatre where I don’t have to be embarrassed for wondering about my body and maybe less-than-traditional ways of having sex.

Indecisiveness

Well, it’s official. I am no longer an undecided major. I have declared Multimedia Production as my major.

When I announced the news to my roommates (and after they congratulated me), one of them asked, “Do you feel like this is finally where you’re meant to be?”

“No,” I said. We all laughed.

The truth is, I still don’t know what I want to do, and that’s why I chose a major that’s broad and encompasses different branches of media (video, photography, web design). I would love to go into filmmaking, but I can’t decide what part of it I would want to do. I love working the cameras, but I also like deciding what shots to call. I love editing. I like special effects and am fascinated with green screens. At the same time I’d almost rather be in front of the camera. When I watch movies, I love observing the actors and wondering what the rehearsals were like and the steps they took to develop their characters.

Speaking of actors, I love live theater. Especially musical theater. What I would give to be able to act and sing like the people I see on Broadway as well as other stages. And that leads me to music. I want to learn how to play the cello. I think it’d be cool to learn the drums. I want to become a better pianist. I enjoy playing the harp for people and get excited when I schedule gigs.

There are so many other things that I want to do. I won’t take the time to list them all, but hopefully that gives you an idea of why I can be so indecisive. There are just so many things I want to do. The nice thing about college is that I can take various classes and try new things. But eventually I have to focus on one path, because taking a bunch of random classes won’t get me a bachelor’s degree.

I’m writing this not to complain, but to try to sort out my thoughts as well as express frustrations that go through my head on a daily basis. Many of the things I want to try out are very possible. I can take voice lessons, I can take film classes, I can make my own videos for YouTube if I wanted to.

I can see people who are so passionate about what they’re doing that they will give anything and everything to be able to accomplish their ambitions. What frustrates me is that I can’t find a passion for much of anything. There are loads of possibilities; there are many things I enjoy, but I haven’t yet found something that I’m willing to fight for. Maybe I would find it if I just committed to something. Maybe I’ll find it in my new major. Right now I just committed to it because it seemed to be the logical thing to do.

Did You Feel That?

Performances light a flame in my soul that I don’t know how to explain in words. You just have to go through the experience to understand what I mean. I haven’t been able to understand why I come close to tears when watching or listening to a performance (musical or theatrical), and it frustrates me when I don’t get the sense that others are feeling what I’m feeling. The adrenaline rush in the midst of a chase, the heartbreak of death, the agony of loneliness, the warmth of a caress.

When I experience a performance, I feel a deep emotional connection to it. But I don’t want to just feel connected to it, I want to be part of it. To help others feel how I feel. It’s not enough for me to turn to the person next to me, grab their shoulders, and exclaim, “Did you feel that? Did it break your heart like it did mine? Didn’t you want to die with them, get married with them, run with them, breathe with them?” Because I can’t make a person feel something. They have to do that on their own. The best I can do is convey that feeling to them.

When I was younger, I had the privilege of singing in a children’s choir that performed in Philadelphia. We once performed a cantata entitled “The Long Bright,” along with a full orchestra and some amazing adult soloists. Provided the link works, I’ll let this website explain the story:
The Long Bright | Schola Cantorum on Hudson

Of course, reading about it and listening to recordings is not nearly the same as being there in the moment. I tend to think I got more out of it as a performer than the audience members did, because I was part of the family that understood the hard work that made that performance possible. But it’s not just about the family. I remember approaching the end of the piece and thinking, “This is it. It’s nearing the end. I’m not going to be able to experience this again.” I savored those last moments, and as the final melodies floated away I could see Anni in my mind, flying to heaven on those last notes. I hope the listeners saw the same thing, but I also think it was a secret that the performers and the writers shared, and could only be told in part to the audience.

This video pretty much sums up my thoughts on communicating through performing for others:

Things I Love: Theater

Bleached overalls, Superman shirt, suspenders. Yup – the earliest memories I have of a theater performance would have to be my church-at-the-time’s production of Godspell. It was being put on by the youth choir there, which my big brothers sang in, so my mom and I would watch the rehearsals. In fact, I think I remember the rehearsals more than I remember the actual performances. The feather boa worn by the girl who sang “Turn Back O Man,” the angry face my one brother made when he had to freeze during “We Beseech Thee,” the way Jesus’ head hung upside down as he was being carried away after the crucifixion.

Through the years I’ve discovered that when I watch people on stage, I’m moved in a way that words can’t quite describe. It’s not just the “aww” moment when a couple kisses or the blood boiling when the main character gets beaten. I sense a unity between the actors, a bond formed only through countless hours of rehearsing, and I feel like I want to share that bond. I don’t just want to watch the magic, I want to make the magic.

Many people (and I’m about to make some huge generalizations here) will only think about the performance for the couple hours they are there. They’re not thinking about the show two weeks before when the lead actress sprains her ankle or when one of the light fixtures breaks. They can’t feel the sweat caused by having run that one dance number eight times. They don’t know the stories told backstage or the inside jokes created when someone messed up his line. They’re not stressing out three days before over a ripped costume or a missing prop. They simply attend the performance. Which is great, because that’s what an audience is supposed to do. They’re not supposed to know what goes on behind the scenes. But I don’t want to be just an audience member. I want to be onstage. Not for the fame, but for the family. There’s just one little problem.

I don’t act. Or sing.

Sure, I’ve been in a couple productions in school or in the community, but I honestly have no idea what I’m doing. Okay, so I’ve taken one acting class. But when I’m on the stage I feel like I’m missing something. And I can’t figure out what.

I have great admiration for those who can take words on a page and bring them to life. That’s what I want to learn to do. Yeah, I’m not great at it now, but I’m going to change that. I’m taking voice lessons to make my voice stronger. And when I can find where to take acting classes/lessons, I’m going to do that too (if anyone has any recommendations where to go, feel free to tell me!). Will I make a career out of it? Highly unlikely. Will I be an amazing actress? Also unlikely. What I am going to be is the best actress and singer I can be, and learn all I can in the process.