by Anne Dickson
Sex is certainly a powerful commodity and because women invest so much in being objects of sexual attraction, they are well aware when they have something that men want: sometimes women feel that this is the only real power they possess. Reclaiming sexual independence is not the same as using (or abusing) the kind of power we wield between our legs.
The dampening effect of unspoken feelings
One of the first steps in looking at sexual relationships across the spectrum is to watch for other feelings. When feelings are not expressed openly they have a habit of colouring our behaviour, including behaviour in a sexual context: when we are intimate and close to someone, we are less guarded.
It can be useful to look at how emotions interfere with spontaneity and sexual enjoyment. Unexpressed anger related to other areas of our lives can easily find expression as a refusal or withdrawal from sex. Performance anxiety about doing the right thing, fears about loss of love or approval, an unmet need for closeness or to share some sadness can also interfere with sexual arousal. When unexpressed feelings linger in the crevices of a relationship, they prevent honest communication and so build up resentment. Sexual activity can end up reduced to an empty, mechanical echo, loveless and dishonouring with both people engaged in some bizarre paradox of intimate physical contact while in their hearts, isolated and alone.
How do we give ourselves the best chance of real intimacy? Do we opt for accommodation or negotiation? What does equality really imply?
Shared responsibility Accommodation is the passive option: you may think you are being equal but check whether or not you are really fitting in with the other person’s needs and settling for a quiet life. You may adopt a quasi-maternal role: you feel sorry for your partner and forgive shortcomings like you might those of a child. On the other hand, you may prefer to idealise your partner as perfect and not want to acknowledge his shortcomings as being realistic makes you feel too insecure.
Blaming is the aggressive option which is tempting but disastrous in terms of clear communication as we have already discussed. It is easier to allow someone else to bear the brunt of your own non-assertive behaviour and its consequences. Before you launch into blaming, remember it takes two: even if you believe you’ve suffered someone’s bumbling fingers groping over your body for twenty years and feel like exploding with self-righteous fury, a full fifty per cent of the responsibility lies with you for your own lack of communication about what you wanted the other person to change.
Blaming encourages us to use such epithets as ‘You’re a lousy lover’ or ‘You’re as responsive as a brick’, ‘There must be something wrong with you, you’re abnormal’. Remember to preface your statements with how you feel, and this should be easier now you’ve practised: for example, ‘I feel uncomfortable’, ‘I would like’, ‘I find it difficult’, ‘I’m afraid’, ‘I don’t know when you’re aroused’ or ‘I’m unwilling to let go’.
Assertive negotiation is equal: you are in it together and you want to make it work.
Talking is important We have usually imbibed the myth (from watching too many fictional sexual encounters on screen) that to talk about sex is to lose the magic and break the spell; that it should just be natural and you should not really have to speak about it. This creates three difficulties: first, you feel guilty and foolish and that you’re a real killjoy if you mention something: why not just shut up instead of putting an unnecessary dampener on the proceedings? Secondly, we are hampered by believing that ‘The Perfect Lover’ actually exists: that if your lover were sensitive and really loved you and was utterly attuned to you, then they would know what to do, how to send you into ecstasy, would touch exactly the right places for exactly the right amount of time with exactly the right amount of pressure . . . so saying there is something wrong feels like a put-down, that it is their fault. They may well feel offended, inadequate and in the wrong perhaps because, deep down, you think they are in the wrong! Thirdly, the habit of not speaking leads to loss of vocabulary: we do not know what words to use. Words feel awkward and clumsy or clinical and distant. With practice you can overcome this problem. Two helpful guidelines are: choose your moment and request a change.
The moment is not in bed! If you want to criticise your lover in bed, no matter how assertively you are inclined, you risk provoking a defensive response. A male lover may well lose his erection and blame it on you. But, even so, the atmosphere is so highly charged that you are better advised to talk at a completely separate time of day, neither just before or during or after sex.
Keep it brief and clear. You do not need to have a seminar but, on the other hand, resorting to non-verbal communication is sometimes misleading: some groans and grunts sound the same whether they are communicating ‘more, more’ or ‘enough, enough’.
Remember the existence of those psychological archives (Chapter 14) especially if you are confronting a difficulty within an established relationship: keep out of any history between you. Deal with one thing at a time and remember it’s a joint venture. Be direct and specific about what you do want: help your lover to know how to be more loving and to give you more attention.
The purpose of assertive criticism is to be constructive. It means looking at the strengths of your relationship as well as the weaknesses. It entails being open to criticism and being prepared to accept some of the responsibility for change. It also requires compromise and a commitment to care for the real human being you see before you – not simply an object of your fantasies. It is very, very easy to have sex without emotional intimacy: assertive skills bring the possibility of intimacy a step nearer.
Following on
1. Talk to someone close about your feelings about sex. Honest sharing can be another important way of learning.
2. If you have difficulty finding the words to use when you want to communicate, take ten minutes to write down on a piece of paper all the words you know for genitals and sexual activities – slang words, clinical words – just to help yourself feel more comfortable.
3. Learn what turns you on, what you do actually find erotic and pleasurable.
4. Identify three things which you could change and three things which your partner(s) could change to make sex more pleasurable. The next step is to communicate these assertively using the guidelines described in this chapter.
22
A Middle-Aged Woman in Your Own Right
Inevitably the passing of thirty years means I am now middle-aged and, although this additional chapter overlaps with some of my own personal experience, it is written also with an acute awareness of changes in attitudes towards ageing during the intervening years.
I know I am not alone in feeling taken aback by my reflection in the mirror where I can scarcely recognise the image in front of me. Inside I feel very much the same person I have always been but, suddenly, I am faced with what I have become in the eyes of others. Clearly this refers back to the idea of psychological reflections in Chapter 19: getting older adds yet another dimension to our preoccupation with managing the impressions of others, especially when those impressions are overwhelmingly biased against anything associated with the natural process of ageing.
Coming to terms with getting older today is compounded by the dictates of a popular culture which defines social validity by chronology: this means our subjective awareness of an ageing body and our subsequent emotional and personal adjustments are inescapably moulded by a deeply comparative, competitive and hierarchical world that relentlessly promotes the primacy of youth. However comfortable we are on the inside with getting older, it won’t be possible to remain impervious to all the negativity on the outside. What chance then do we have of retaining and maintaining any kind of self-esteem in the middle and end years of life in the face of this generalised fear and repudiation?
Even if we put aside the gender bias, there is a lot of evidence to indicate how underlying attitudes become manifest in personal and institutional behaviour. In the last year alone in the UK, for example,
there have been over a dozen separate reports of research itemising details of appalling neglect or outright abuse associated with treatment of the elderly. This includes being relegated to a low priority by GPs or consultants in deciding whether treatment or facilities should be made available to them; neglect and indifference towards those in hospital wards, neglect and even cruelty towards those in their own homes as well as those residing in what are ironically called ‘care’ homes. It is brutally clear that the elderly population is not valued. There is now pressure to sell homes and downsize in favour of the young and headlines in the media intimate that continuing financial burdens of old people’s care will mean correspondingly fewer resources for students in the future and fewer community facilities (such as libraries, youth centres) in the present: all this fans an incipient intergenerational resentment.
So what do we do? Give up? Hide? Take our place among the ranks of the invisible to remain un-named, uncounted and unheard but grateful for a tiny little place to exist. Allow others to take over and do what they think best for us? Hope that assisted suicide becomes legal by the time we find ourselves too frail to protest at our own mistreatment?
I don’t have clear solutions to offer to these dilemmas as I am still working them out for myself but as I listen to people, work with people and witness attitudes to ageing, one aspect stands out. The most pernicious influence is the received opinion that ageing is universally and unequivocally a bad thing, implying a total loss of credibility and worth: our ambivalence and anxiety in the face of this negativity incline us towards denial.
On several occasions in these pages, I have emphasised the corrosive effect of denial on our self-esteem: denial of problems in a relationship; denial of tiredness; denial of the existence of sexism or denial of the truth of what we are feeling. Collusion with denial of age has the same effect, at an individual and collective level. As with the emperor’s imaginary suit of clothes, we play along by pretending that youth is all. When we are constantly bombarded with female celebrities and stars who relentlessly insist they will never go grey or have wrinkles (because they are ‘worth it’), our self-esteem can become dependent on the denial of age.
Our cultural obsession with hiding, fighting, cheating or even conquering age and eventual death leave us vulnerable and gullible, which is, of course, what the advertisers (through their expert psychological research) exploit: we spend a fortune on things that will help us stay in denial. Fortunately there are some well-known women in their 60s and 70s and even beyond who are strong enough to maintain a glamorous image without cosmetic surgery and I thank them for doing so even though, without their financial resources, few of us can manage in the same way. But we can stop pretending. We can stop hiding. We can stop criticising other women for looking their age.
Have a personal conversation with yourself. Hiding grey hair sits at one end of the continuum: extensive cosmetic surgery at the other. Where, along this continuum, do you feel comfortable? Compromise is not the same as denial: try and make a decision – which is ultimately very personal – that genuinely celebrates who you are rather than traps you on a treadmill in a never-ending effort not to be found out.
Treading the line between compromise and denial is one challenge. Another is to confront some of the myths and stereotypes instead of silently colluding with them. For example, if and when the opportunity arises, it can help not to collude with the ‘us versus them’ mythology. Challenge this kind of segregation by engaging with those who are younger and whose values are very different. This doesn’t necessarily mean having to walk around with the latest smart phone attached to your ear but there are times when conversations can be struck up and an exchange facilitated. Children are more amenable but teenagers and those in their twenties and thirties often have little or no idea how to approach the elderly, regarding them as a bit alien. Many will, if encouraged, be able to break through their own awkwardness and anxiety and make some connection. I remember the astonishment in the voices of some young Occupy movement protesters at drawing people of ‘all ages’ to support their cause: they had obviously imagined that protest was the sole prerogative of the young. Having a common cause is a perfect means of breaking down superimposed barriers.
Another area to avoid collusion is to refrain from using phrases like ‘I’m having a senior moment’ when you forget something or find the papers you spent ten minutes looking for in the place where you left them. The vast majority of people are absentminded from time to time – at any age – so, even if you’re only trying to be humorous, constantly blaming silly mistakes or oversights on senility unhelpfully compounds the stereotype.
Similarly, I hear many women prefacing their views with ‘I know I’m just a grumpy old woman but . . . ’ If you dismiss yourself constantly, others will unconsciously dismiss you too. This is an aspect of the passive and apologetic option already described which can occur at every stage of life. Keep apologising for existing and soon others will stop regarding you as an equal and, in the absence of a clear statement, are likely to make presumptions on your behalf. Although we can all be grumpy at times, this kind of phrase risks becoming an unhelpful way to lower expectations and invite others to discount your views, opinions and concerns.
This had a lot of resonance for Yvonne who wanted to know how she could possibly tackle the issue of looking after her grandchildren. Her daughter, Rebecca, had been determined to go back to work as soon as possible after her children were born: Yvonne didn’t really approve even though she knew it was the modern thing to do. Little by little, Yvonne had agreed to more and more care – from two days a week to three days a week – and she was worried that soon she might be asked to extend it again.
What were the obstacles getting in the way of communicating with her daughter? First, she adored her grandchildren and enjoyed the time she spent with them; second, she didn’t actually have any specific commitment during the day; third, she knew her daughter was working very hard at her job. On the other hand, Yvonne knew that sometimes she simply wanted to have some time to herself. Her husband, Jim, Rebecca’s step-father, had retired from full-time work but still did some consultancy work and sometimes she just wanted to have the opportunity to go off spontaneously for a day or two with him when he was free. She also found a day of looking after two young children extremely tiring.
Was she being selfish and unreasonable? When questioned about what she wanted, she decided that she wanted to avoid having to say ‘no’ to her daughter. So how could she start this difficult conversation instead of waiting (and dreading) the request.
Practice 1
She decided to bring up the subject when Rebecca came to collect the children, who were at that moment watching television.
Yvonne: Rebecca, love, there’s something I want to ask about.
Rebecca: Yes?
Yvonne: I wondered if we could talk about me having the children here. Do you think we could sometimes make a different arrangement?
Rebecca: What do you mean ‘a different arrangement’? It’s hard enough as it is now, having to pay the child minder two days a week. In fact, I was going to ask you if . . .
Yvonne: I’m not sure I can do any more.
Rebecca: Look, Mum, I’m sorry but you know I only ask because I have to. Toby will be at school in a year’s time so it will only mean picking them up.
Yvonne: I’ll think about it. I do get quite tired by the end of the day, you know.
Rebecca: Look, it’s not forever” . . . her mobile rings. She looks at it. Mum, I’m sorry, I must take this. (Shouts) Will you two get ready to go home?
One of the common mistakes we make when we attempt to bring up an awkward subject of conversation is that we don’t prepare ourselves by asking those three key questions. Yvonne didn’t take the time to think through what she actually wanted to request from her daughter and she also failed to convey how strongly she felt. This, remember, is our responsibility: not the other person’s. Putting our feelings into word
s is possible to do without attributing blame. What are Yvonne’s feelings? Frustration? Confusion? A sense of not being heard or regarded as an equal? Being taken for granted and unappreciated? It is important to acknowledge our feelings, whatever they are. Remember that it is nonsense to blame ourselves for what we feel although we are responsible for how we act on those feelings.
Although she feels guilty at feeling resentful towards her own daughter, Yvonne has to acknowledge that she is human and that, rather than get into the rights or wrongs of the matter, she has the right to express her needs. So what does she want? This took a while to clarify but, in the end, what felt important to her wasn’t the specific number of times she had the grandchildren, but the fact that she wanted to be consulted and be able to negotiate her contribution rather than Rebecca simply taking it for granted. That was what Yvonne decided was more important than anything else: she wanted to be treated as an equal.
The next time Yvonne decided to initiate the conversation, she gave Rebecca some notice. She phoned and said she wanted to talk about something and suggested Rebecca meet her in town for a coffee while her husband looked after the children.
(In the café.)
Yvonne: I don’t know how to start this but I want to talk to you about something important and I feel very awkward about it.
Rebecca: What on earth’s the matter?
Yvonne: No, it’s not serious. Well, it is actually but not awful. I want to talk about looking after the kids.
Rebecca: We talked about that last week.
Yvonne: No, we didn’t. We didn’t really talk about it. We didn’t have time and that’s why I wanted to have the time now. (Rebecca listens.) I haven’t really taken responsibility for what we have arranged and I’ve been beginning to feel that you take me for granted. I find it difficult to say what I feel because I want to support you and obviously I love having them but I want to be able to negotiate, you know, like equals. Sometimes I think because I haven’t anything else important to do, you assume that I’ll always say yes.