A Spy in the Women's Locker Room

Sometimes, I feel like a spy when I enter the women's locker room at the gym. My mission is to look at all the women in every stage of undressing and record with my mental video camera. The two flaws in this fantasy, is that I have no idea why I need to do this mission (but it could be classified) and I have nobody to whom I should report back. So what am I doing?!

Men may think they are unique in checking out “the competition” when they are in the locker room, gym, or bathroom, but I do the same. I cannot speak for all women, but I find other women's bodies fascinating and of course beautiful. As I undress without modesty myself, I find my eyes roaming around constantly. It is as if I have special permission in this place to shamelessly look at women. I would gladly welcome co-ed locker rooms, where we all can ogle each other without censorship! My motive for looking at other women alludes me, but I can say that I do not believe I have competition in mind -envy, perhaps.

There are some things I love about myself and my body, but like everyone, there are things I wish were different sometimes! (The idea of bigger boobs is probably better than the reality, but I reserve the right to drool over big boobs sometimes, god damn it!) But who would not find the many differences in body type so interesting? There are very few places where one can see so much variety with so few clothes obstructing the view. You can often tell what area of a person's body they are concerned with, but I find it interesting how having some weight in choice locations actually suits people better than if they had less. But, if you thought about it, nice boobs are all about attractive fat.

I am reading Sex at Dawn: The prehistoric origins of modern sexuality (Dan Savage had nothing to do with my reading it), and the authors neatly deconstruct the beauty of boobs and buttocks by comparing them. So perhaps there is no such thing as a true boob-man or ass-man...in effect they are the same. I guess that means I can be happy with my nice ass and my un-sagging breasts! I am also lucky that, unlike primates, I can vocally state that I am available to the opposite sex.

The one hint that may indicate I am indeed competitive is that I prefer to be in better shape than the other women around me at the gym. I do not feel this way in life, but at the gym, I like wearing tight pants without being called for a fashion foul because I look good! I cease to be so unique with other fit and attractive women around me (especially if they have better tits). I do not feel guilty about this feeling, because I cannot be the only one who feels this way. I do think it is funny that I do not care about who wears a better dress to a party, but I do care who wears their spandex better!

Am I vain to think this way? The main definitions of 'vain' contain the words 'conceited' and 'futile' implying a false pride that serves no purpose. I am proud of myself and my body; I want to be health, fit, attractive and comfortable. I just like to improve things, even if they are already good (otherwise I grow bored). So working out, building strength, toning muscles are all activities I am doing to make myself better. If I am not proud of my accomplishments will I continue to go to the gym?

How can we bitch about what society is “telling” us we have to look like, when we ultimately do it for ourselves? Seeing a skinny model on TV or in a magazine is just that...seeing a picture. If you take it on yourself to look like her, well go ahead, if you can, but what makes her a better role model for you, than your mother, your sister or your friend? Women's libbers feel free to yell at me, but I refuse to accept women are passive receptors to society's messages on beauty! We make the decisions in our life about what we eat, how we exercise, and how much we spend watching the tube and reading those magazines. In the real world there are plenty of examples of different forms of beauty, but for some reason we do not care about them.

Next time you are at the gym or out for a walk, try to see that every body has its own beauty, but remember also, that healthy (physically and mentally) is the most attractive look!

Pets and Ice Cream

For some reason, I find that I cannot just think of men as men, each one different in his own unique way. I am compelled to compare men to something else, ascribing metaphors to explain my attraction or my indifference. One explanation for why I might do this could be that men are such complicated creatures and I have no idea what I want or need in a partner because of this.

During the times when I am seeing more than one guy, I compare them against each other. This is easier and normally more fair than comparing them to ex-boyfriends because both men are present. Of course, it is hard not to remember what felt good in the past and also what caused the end of a relationship. Comparison is inevitable, so I make no apologies for it, but if you think about it, it ends up being useful for all parties. I have all too often continued to see a man I really was not interested in when I was without two choices. I am able to truly commune with my feelings about each man when I have a choice, so I can treat the men better and avoid dating out of desperation.

Whenever a girlfriend asks me to talk about my choices, weighing pros and cons, as we distill where my attraction is leading me, it is hard for me to find any words. But gut feelings are not always clear either. Often times my body is attracted to one man more than another while my domestic desire points straight to the other. There is no stranger battle than when two parts of yourself turn on each other, leaving to you only watch.

Sometimes, a perfect metaphor settles on to my two suitors, offering me a way to explain the feelings I have towards them. Of course, it is a simplification, but it becomes a tool that can bring peace to my internal landscape. Metaphors are often the only way I can bridge my rational mind and my emotional being, they become a language both sides have in common in their otherwise deadlocked language barrier.

Two men came into my life on the same weekend recently, and the perfect metaphor on their heels. Both men were of a same age, homeowners, content in their jobs, and manly enough in physique to interest me. One began with instant attraction and sexual tension while the other started off with companionable activity and ready laughter.

Mr. Sexy and Mr. Smiley became a puzzle after day one, pulling me in opposite directions. Mr. Sexy seemed unavailable while he stayed in contact and Mr. Smiley seemed too ready to do something for me. How frustrating! I was not happy with either response. Then the metaphor hit me; Mr. Sexy was a cat and Mr. Smiley was a dog! How ironic that they each owned the pet they resembled.

A cat-man is very independent and aloof. You can always tell he likes his space and things to go his way. He is most likely the man that sleeps with a girl and expects her to go home right after, without sleeping over. He is also the man who sends mixed signals, sometimes being very affectionate and then sometimes lashing out unexpectedly. Mr. Sexy did not do all of these things to me of course, but cat-men are too choosy about when they want attention and do not come when called, even with bait!

A dog-man is very social and loyal. You can tell that he likes you because he wants to be with you a lot and is very affectionate. He is the man who brings flowers, or makes you dinner, and always asks for another date before you can wonder if he will. He is the nice guy your mother wants you to marry, who seems stable and sweet. I remember thinking how easy it would be to fall into Mr. Smiley's life when he made me dinner and just be a nice girlfriend again. But soon after, Mr. Smiley became too smothering with his affection and I realized I am not ready for that lifestyle.

So if I clearly do not want a cat-man OR a dog-man boyfriend, what do I actually want? Is there an animal that mimics the kind of love I want to nurture? Perhaps a penguin...devoted mates that share the parenting duties so well? No, there is something too tragic about the penguin. A deer...an independent female being fought over by many bucks? No, there is no romance to that love, nor to time alone after mating. I think I will eventually conclude that I want a human man, but I guess I am waiting for one who knows how to love me as the complicated human woman that I am.

So, I remain single, but joyfully so. Many of my girlfriends are partnered, engaged or married and do not envy me my singledom, but I am having too much fun meeting new people and tasting the many flavors of affection that I couldn't be less interested in getting into a relationship right now. Since Mr. Sexy and Mr. Smiley (both who remain in my life for now, as friends) I have met three new men who attract me, had two lesbians hit on me, and made some awesome new friends dancing salsa and riding public transportation in our underwear! Every person offers me a new sensation never yet felt. I feel as if I am developing a sixth sense for social interaction and I want to try as much as possible. Just like ice cream, there are so many flavors...and there is no way to have a favorite.