I don’t know when it happened. I must have been asleep while raising my kids and working, but women have become quite different in their tastes, actions, and pursuits. I can remember when love comics were the rage, then Harlequin romances became popular–well not for me. But the stories just barely crossed the line. Titillating fantasies about powerful men and victimized women in historical settings. Cat and mouse games between a gorgeous male and beautiful female in a contemporary romance–like Bridget Jones. But now? It’s all about erotica. When did our gender become so sex-starved? When did we need to satisfy ourselves with pornography? When did we take the romance out of romance and replace it with lust? I’m distressed over this change.
Pornography was the staple of horny men, or couples wanting to spice up their marriage. Not the solitary pursuit of a woman alone and reading a book to turn on her sexual passion. We are all about relationships. Or used to be. Now, we are just like men. Pushing the limits of sexuality, becoming less feminine, becoming more like men. This change to me is not progress. Seeing all the writers jumping on the bandwagon of erotica while sacrificing the art of writing is depressing. Artful language is replaced by story lines of S&M, scenes evoking prurient emotions. Reducing us, not elevating us. Will it be women who in the near future attend sex addict clinics? How do we change this? Why are women so unfulfilled? As mothers? As wives? As workers?
It wasn’t like this when I was growing up. Yes, we got the pill and freedom. Freedom to become what? Can’t we choose to be better? Can’t we turn off the faucet of erotica and demand thought-provoking books that help us continue to grow and be examples to others? Turn off those horrible reality shows and make our own lives better instead of watching the train wrecks of stupid rich people and having autoerotic sex?
Okay, maybe just watch RHONJ.
