If I Were a Feminist, This Would Have Been My #MeToo Story

But, I'm not so, it wasn't.

Early on in my journey of fucking my way through the Zodiac, I met a single father who had gained custody of his two kids because they were in danger with their mom. Being a Cancer, his family was his top priority, but he'd had a rough upbringing and a rather recklessly wild youth so, taking on the responsibility of raising his two children alone was a burden that was heavy and hard for him to bear. 

He found my situation, and what I was looking for, appealing because he had needs for sex and some companionship but didn't feel he had the time or ability to engage in a serious relationship with a woman who would, by nature of the relationship, demand his attention. He was looking for a friend with benefits.

We chatted for a week or two. There was a really lovely, romantic bond between us almost instantly. We arranged to meet for sex.

I met him in person the day before, as was my habit, to make sure he was who he'd been presenting and to gain the confidence of comfort through the intuition of safety that can only be achieved by seeing the person's mannerism, body language, and responses to mine.

I felt comfortable and safe enough to proceed to a sexual encounter.

I showed up at his home the next day. He welcomed me in and we drew close. He, being significantly taller than I, I placed my hand on one of his well-formed pectoral muscles, his whole body was deliciously toned. We looked into each other's eyes, mutually smirked with delight and, thus, began a tender exchange of motions that would make an onlooker appreciate the artistry of sex done well.

Until it came to actually having sex.

It was my habit, and he emphatically agreed in previous conversations, to use a condom with new partners who had not been tested and/or were not exclusive to me.

However, he had ... some problems staying erect.

In the course of things, and in a moment when he wasn't having a problem, he pulled back away from me and I thought he would either put the condom on or that he'd engage in oral sex.

He didn't.

He entered me bare.

I was surprised. I instantly, and clearly, told him to remove himself from me.

He didn't.

"I'm already in, Love." He said.

There was a moment of panic in me. I was underneath him. He was nearly a foot taller and quite strong and my bag with my pepper spray and knife were just out of reach. Had he wanted to rape me, there would have been nothing I could have done to stop him.

Too fucking bad. "Get out of me now."

He listened and responded appropriately at that time.

Now, if I'd been a person with a victim complex, I imagine I'd have jumped up in disgust and left immediately, written a blog post about how evil men are and signed it with #MeToo.

If I were not a confident and self-aware woman, I may have just let him have his way, then gone home, feeling gross and #MeToo-ing the shit out of that experience.

But, we'd shared a lovely connection. I felt strongly that I had understood the depth of this man's need for companionship so when he pulled himself from me, I gathered my wits.

He sat on the edge of the bed, with his back to me. His shoulders slumped and his head bowed. I moved my bare body by his side and waited for him to speak.

He told me how much an established emotional connection was important to his ability to get and maintain an erection. The last woman he'd been with, it had taken him several months before he'd felt comfortable enough to have sex.

Here was this man, who was working so hard to do the right thing for his kids, but who had needs in a situation that did not allow for the space and time he required to have those needs fulfilled.

He had a moment when he'd achieved an erection and he took the opportunity, when it was available, in hopes that he'd be able to complete the task. He'd gone into our situation hoping his problem wouldn't be present with me but, when it was, he panicked.

It was impulsive and not the right thing to do, it would have been better for him to communicate his needs to me, but I understood what was going on and I didn't fault him for it. Empathy. Men need it too.

Understanding that our prior good connection and conversation wasn't enough for our afternoon together to be sexually successful, we laid down naked on the bed together and began to talk about our lives. I'm adaptable and I care about people so, that suited me just fine. He told me his story, and it was an interesting one that was as worth my time as sex would have been.

We must have talked for a couple of hours. I lay there beside him, pressed up next to his body, touching and caressing him. After a while, he was relaxed and was able to achieve an erection. Not enough for a condom, but enough for my mouth to kiss an orgasm from him.

I look back on that day with fondness. It was a beautiful exchange with a man who needed companionship and I was able to give it. What a shame it would have been to miss that experience out of a hotheaded, easily offended, sense of indignity and victimhood.

Women who aren't confident enough to hold their ground shouldn't be out having sex with uncommitted partners. I had no real knowledge of who he was or how he'd treat me. That is a risk associated with casual sex. Know it, be prepared to be strong, and be able to own your shit. He made a poor decision, but if I'd given in, at that point, it wouldn't have been his fault. It would have been me making another poor decision from personal weakness. And, if everyone is supposed to care about why a woman might make a poor decision out of her weakness, why are we not also compassionate toward men who make poor decisions out of their weaknesses?

We, women, are not doing each other any favor by applying the #MeToo to every experience where we lack confidence and security in our person. Blaming the man for our weakness is not good, even if he was the first to put me in a situation where I had to be strong. It doesn't lead to healing. It doesn't lead to the maturity of self-examination and taking responsibility for our choices, our part in any given situation. It doesn't lead to bridging the gap of understanding between men and women.

Could I have #MeToo-ed the experience? Sure! I've seen the hashtag applied to much less, but I'm glad that trusting my intuition, being strong, and keeping my wits about me led to a beautiful memory.