My Tiny Hypocrisy: I Don't Always Use Birth Control
When I first started having sex with men at age 17, I assumed I'd always use condoms with guys, unless I was in a monogamous relationship or trying to get pregnant. That assumption stayed true through most of my twenties, but once I turned 30 I found myself involved with a new class of men who for various reasons weren't condom fans. This shocked me, not so much because of the specter of STIs, but because I imagined that if I were a guy, I'd be terrified of getting a girl pregnant. I wasn't so shocked, however, that I could refuse the novelty.
The first time, I felt like I was watching myself from afar, and figured this slightly older man must know something I didn't, must have some special way of protecting us. When we did it again the next morning, forgoing a condom seemed easier, somehow; I'd already done it once. The same thing happened when I dated another man later that year; by then the morning-after pill was relatively easily available, though not as easily as it is now. We were dating, and I felt grown-up and special knowing that he wanted that kind of intimacy.
I know I'm certainly not the only woman in my age group (I'm 35) or any other who's been there, done that—or is doing that. The recent brouhaha over xoJane health critic Cat Marnell's confession that she uses Plan B as her primary birth control shows that we are more than ready to get our claws out about other women's sexual choices. I'm not saying that we shouldn't encourage each other to do what's in our best interest, but where do we draw the line? How different is the judgment Marnell received from encouraging a vegetarian friend to eat meat, because you think it's healthier (or vice versa)? If I were to castigate every friend who's ever made a sexual "error" at some point in her life, whether around birth control or anything else, I'd be left with very few friends.
Piled onto this extremely personal, sensitive topic is the idea that because I write about sex for a living, I'm automatically a role model for others, and that I always make the smartest, best decisions for myself—and that when I reveal things about my life, I'm encouraging others to follow my lead. I'm not, and I'm pretty sure Marnell wasn't either. What this utopian vision fails to take into account is that I'm human too. My actions make sense to me the time, but my motivations have as much to do with my heart as they do with my head.
When I dated a guy who'd only used condoms, I wanted us not to use them because we were in an exclusive relationship, and for me it would have made the sex more intimate. I don't necessarily mean "better" in the physical sense, but I would have felt more bonded to him, knowing we were doing something he'd never done, and yes, while it would have included some risk that I might get pregnant, that was a risk I was willing to take. I respected his reasoning, that should something go awry, he wasn't ready to be a father, but must admit that I also felt slighted. When most men I've dated would've been eager for condomless sex, but deferred to my insistence on it if I wasn't on another form of birth control, his disinterest felt, rationally or not, like a sign of not caring as much about me as previous boyfriends.
Other times I've forgone a condom because I told myself the chances of my getting pregnant were slim to none, and in the worst case scenario, as my biological clock ticks away, would it be the end of the world if I became a single mom? I've skirted the edges of safety for reasons I'm sure many of us share: because I didn't want to think about the reality of the risks I was taking. In my rational mind, I don't believe you can know who has an STD just by looking at them, of course, but in the heat of the moment? That knowledge starts to slip. A confident man is a sexy man, in my mind, and if I trust a guy enough to engage in sex with him, there's a part of me that trusts that should a worst-case scenario ensue, he will be there, and if he's not, that everyone else in my life will back me up.
I know from experience that "my body, my choice" means, literally, that I am the only one I can rely on when it comes to what happens with my body. I was having a rather covert affair with someone, and I was on birth control during most of it, but one time I wasn't, and I told him this, emphasizing that we couldn't have sex, at least not without a condom. When he started to enter me, I decided to pretend that everything would be fine; I had no idea he would risk ejaculating inside me, but he did. I told myself it was no big deal, and that I could get Plan B, which I did; what I didn't realize is that money I had assumed would be in my bank account in plenty of time wasn't, causing me to wait, and worry, for a few days. I didn't share this with him because I didn't think it was his business; I'd taken a risk and I was the one who had to handle any resulting fallout.
I believe it's my job as a woman to take care of my body, including my birth control, and I take full responsibility for the times when I haven't used it. I can't claim that I will always use it when I should, though it's not something I'm cavalier about. I think we've in some ways conflated the autonomy feminism has given women around reproductive rights with dictating the way women use the "choice" we're so adamant about having. Irene Vilar documented her experience having multiple abortions in her memoir Impossible Motherhood: Testimony of an Abortion Addict; I don't think she was celebrating them, but they are facts of her life. The idea that any of us should be held up as model citizens, or shamed for our sexual choices, including our choices to use, or not use, birth control as we see fit, disturbs me. I'm not advocating other people going condomless, or denying the need for quality, comprehensive sex education for adults as well as teens, but on an individual level, judging and shaming people is both unhelpful and infantilizing. We all weigh risks every single day, and it's our right to make the decisions that suit our lives best at any given time. I don't walk up to smokers and tell them they're damaging their lungs; I'm pretty sure they already know that. Similarly, I would never question someone's right to make their own choices about their sex life.
I don't, as a rule carry condoms; perhaps I should, but when I'm not planning on having sex, I don't. I don't bring people home, so I'm usually going to their place or a hotel, and yes, I tend to assume that if they want to use a condom, they'll have one handy. I don't necessarily think the condomless sex I've had with men is any better qualitatively than sex I've had using a condom per se; for me, it's more about the meaning of the action. In the wake of Catgate, I've seen plenty of people saying "I always use a condom," which is great, but just because I can't say the same doesn't mean I don't have the right to make that decision for myself. Which I will, on a case-by-case basis.
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Jaime Franchi
Barbara O'Brien
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Comments
This is a fantastic piece. I found myself nodding my head in agreement at several points. You could have been writing my own rationalizations/ self-arguments/ arguments with lovers over the years. I have used Plan B twice, and each time I have, friends have berated me for not using condoms. But, we all make choices.
I am glad you got an ep. This is an important piece that people should read and be talking about. Even the most intelligent, rational women make decisions that may not be the smartest. But just as a "hard cock has no conscience," that desire to have skin-to-skin contact as a sign of real intimacy makes the same kind of sense.
When it was decided that women could get Plan B over the counter, but not for young women, I made a pledge that I would buy it for those who couldn't buy it.
http://culturekitchen.com/lorraine/blog/come_to_me_for_plan_b
I don't regret that decision. I still believe that we all start with the best of intentions regarding sex; those who claim that there's no excuse for women getting pregnant who don't want to be pregnant simply don't understand how biology or the human heart works.
Thanks for opening your heart here.
The real thing that gets me if the fact that using condoms and hormonal birth control isn't even that hard. Hell, you could get an IUD and not think about it for 10 years! You could buy a box of condoms from Costco and again, probably not think about it for a good long while.
There are so many different facets to explore regarding your idiocy, but the one that probably gets me the most is how you've taken such an anti-feminist action, and tried to twist it into some sort of new sexual freedom manifesto. There is nothing feminist about letting a guy wheedle his way into having sex without a condom, nothing feminist about convincing a guy to go without a condom so you can emotionally manipulate him into thinking you're special, and finally there certainly is nothing feminist about letting a decision as important as reproduction be handled by lethargy and dumb luck. Get over yourself already.
At the same time, you've got bigger balls than me. I don't want to knock up anyone, nor contract a STD.
Ignore the troll, everyone else does.
It's commonly assumed that men are the only ones that push for this kind of thing and that women do not. If it came to a situation where a woman was pressing for child support and a man claimed “I didn't even want to not use a condom, but she pressured me,” my guess is that the man would be laughed at.
The laughter would come from several things: One is the stereotype is that men are motivated to push and women to resist, never the opposite; obviously not always true, but many think this way. One is that the stereotype is that men are stronger than women and women and so men would always win if push came to shove; but push does not always come to shove, by which I mean it's sometimes an intellectual not physical contest, and even if push did come to shove, some women are stronger than some men even if there might be some theoretical average man that is stronger than some theoretical average women—people are not averages. And, finally, it requires considerable force of ego to utter this statement and one is exposed to ridicule; it's very easy to get people sizing up one's looks and saying to themselves “uh, yeah, who do you think you are, Matt Damon?” as if somehow no one would bend the rules for other than the best, and in asserting you're someone that someone would bend the rules for, you're asserting a certain sense of power/allure that people assume that they can discount merely on visual inspection; in fact, different things attract different people, even varying for the same person at different times, and knowing who one would bend the rules for is probably more complicated/subtle than is visually obvious.
So it doesn't go without saying that these situations come up. It requires women to acknowledge it so that it's on the record in case it comes up later. It's good for both parties to push back and it's good for both parties to acknowledge they might not always. It's no accident that pregancy rates run higher in abstinence-only areas because it's almost surely that people who are not prepared to acknowledge the likelihood of weakness are unprepared for the strength of the hormonal desire to anesthetize the thinking part of the brain for the sake of the propagation of the species.
Since Genesis, women have been burdened with the responsibility for sex: when, whether, birth control, children, shame, the whole enchilada. So what's wrong with a woman making her own decision, for herself, to forego a condom? If the guy wants to be "responsible," he still has his own choice to make, and it should not be the woman's complete responsibility. And if they BOTH decide to go bare, why in the world do we castigate the woman, fer crissakes!?
Your columns in the Village Voice were so progressive and so informative to read, I would just hate for people to pick up the wrong message (especially when condom fatigue sets in on HIV high risk populations) - despite the fact that you're 100% correct to talk about your personal truths honestly.
I could try writing about my sex life, or my perception of my sex life, but I doubt their are many people who would want to read it. A woman can write abour her sex life and get all kinds of responses, mostly from men who have seen your picture. You can look at my picture. I doubt it will help, maybe I should try a come hither pose. What does a straight guy's come hither pose look like? Not a clue...
There is something a little too casual and flip about your revelations as it concerns the termination of pregnancy. You say you are not cavalier, but your tone seems to contradict this denial.
Abortion should be safe and legal and VERY, VERY rare....especially among those who know better.
The poker analogy of going all in.
Fuck it.
You would be a cute mommy.
Back in the day, when I was very Catholic, but at the same time, sexually active, I often employed the "pull-out" method of birth control. I didn't want to get pregnant, but I never even considered STDs. In the late 80's, I tested positive for the Clap and I didn't get it from my new boyfriend. How embarrassing to have to tell him. Now, it's condoms all the way... most of the time. And I'm on the Pill.
Thanks for such an honest post.
Abortion and Plan B are two different things.
I will say, abortion and Plan B aside, this "condoms-are-rubbish, what about intimacy wah wah" nonsense is going to go right out the window when the next AIDS-type plague comes up to bite y'all in the collective asses though. 1980 was not that long ago, people. Wrap it up. It's your right not to, but my right to think you've not got your head screwed on properly.
This is a bunch of nonsense. I am not a libertarian socialist, mind you. But a communitarian socialist.
The utility of using the protection should outweigh any other form of thinking here.
I also came of age when news about AIDS first broke when it was a certain death sentence so no doubt that influenced me greatly. And I never skipped out on birth control. But maybe I am boring or unhip and the new thing is not to worry. I also view intimacy differently. I had sex as a single person when I was younger out of desire and curiosity and regret none of my choices. To me intimacy takes time to build so that was not always my goal when connecting with partners.
There is both a naive and flippant tone to this presentation. I disagree that people will back you up when the worst case scenario rears up. That is generally when everybody runs in the opposite direction, gossips, and becomes suddenly unavailable. But maybe I am too cynical?
However, I respect that you are an adult who makes choices and writes about them and is brave enough to put yourself out there for scrutiny.
I think you want to have a baby. If so, it would be better to own that decision and act on it intentionally, rather than increase your STD risk by having unprotected sex with multiple partners.
As far as condom use, as a gay man that's the Numero Uno STD barrier, and I know that I shouldn't go without it--although, on rare occasions, I'm embarrassed to say that I have. I've watched so many wonderful young men die of AIDS, and you'd think those experiences would be enough to assure that I'd NEVER put myself at that kind of risk. But, in the heat of the moment, I have. My excuse? "He's practically a virgin, so he must be clean." (I know...right?) Now I read about HPV and the cancers that are rampant because of it, especially cancers of the mouth and throat, and I worry all over again, especially since I'm too old for the vaccine. I guess that's one benefit of aging: Apparently, I'm too old for most guys to find desirable, and the ones that do I don't want anyway :-)
Thanks for being so open. I've never seen your column, wish I had. I stopped reading the Village Voice a lot of years ago, along with Rolling Stone, at least not regularly as I once did.
I'm not a huge fan of condoms either, though for the most part I've grudgingly used them when not in LTRs. If I hadn't been on the pill since before I became sexually active, I would have definitely gone the IUD route as a strong backup protection against condom mishaps or horny in the moment judgement cloudedness.
I've been providing holistic bodywork at a non-profit center for people living with HIV for a few years. Many of my clients are women who have contracted and spread the infection from unprotected sex. After seeing up close the personal devastation that this disease brings to people's lives, I take issue with the "my body, my choice" position. In the light of AIDs, I find your article to be obscenely self-centered. It's not just about you and your personal choices if you are putting yourself and others at risk.