It's not so much "porn" per se, it's more that a woman can be highly successful at whatever it is that she does, but the pinnacle of female achievement is not considered to have been reached until she takes her clothes off in public; she's not a "real woman" until every Tom, Dick and Harry has seen her business. I find that extremely disheartening. It's almost as if women are secretly ashamed of being strong, intelligent and accomplished... so they have to revert back to presenting themselves as sex objects, lest anyone think they're not "still women" despite being good at other things besides having breasts... like we need to reassure men that we do, in fact, know our place. "Don't worry, guys... we won't get TOO uppity. See? Here's my boobies! Feel less threatened now? WHEW!"

I don't know. It just seems really sad to me. It's like all this time and all this work, and still we're programmed to feel as if exposing our private parts is the be-all and end-all of being admired as a woman. And any woman who has no desire to let it all hang out is automatically assumed to be too unattractive to be asked to. As if *wanting* to expose our vajayjay to strangers is a woman's default setting... and if our vajayjay or boobies were worth looking at, we'd flash 'em in a heartbeat... "who wouldn't?" We must be HIDEOUS! Nope. We just value ourselves differently, I guess.

If a woman chooses to do it, fine. Some women, that really IS all they've got. I just don't like the way women are socially browbeaten into thinking they're hideous, undesirable losers UNLESS they do it... like their professional achievements mean nothing if they're not asked to undress for Playboy, because THAT'S the true measure of female success. It shouldn't be. Does that make sense?

I still love you. Especially if you're man enough to appreciate gay porn. heh

...is why pedestrian things such as getting undressed and having breasts are still considered "accomplishments" for women. Are our standards for ourselves really so low that exposing our breasts is the most impressive thing a woman can do? Even women who have accomplished actual things in life (such as prowess on the athletic field) for some reason feel the need to expose their bodies in Playboy, as if that is the ultimate validation. Why the need to prove to the world that yes, you indeed have boobs and pubes? "Look everyone, here they are! See?" Yeah. Big accomplishment. You have body parts. So do I. And they're pretty darn nice-looking, too. I just don't happen to think *everyone* has earned the right to gaze upon my intimate areas. I'm worth more than that. If you're not my partner or my doctor... dream on, baby. You wish.

Define exactly what behavior you will absolutely not tolerate just for the sake of not being alone. Define exactly what abuse really means. There are men who will never lay a hand on you that are extremely emotionally abusive. Will you recognize one of them, and get the hell out before you're sucked in?

You just sent shivers down my spine. As someone who has been in both types of "bad relationship," I can honestly say that when I was being emotionally abused, I sometimes wished he'd just haul off and belt me. Those bruises would have healed easier and faster than the ones he was inflicting.

Now I won't tolerate ANY of it for the sake of not being alone. I'm happier alone than I ever was with any man. I recognize the signs--one conversation can be enough to clue me in--and act on it immediately. I refuse to accept that "any man is better than no man." "No man" is better than a bad one, and alone is better than abuse, distrust, doubt, lies, fear, low self-esteem... and the denial it takes to accept all that as your life.

As women, we want to believe. We want to help. We want to stand by our man and support him no matter what. We want to be the one who makes him not want to be like that... we wonder if perhaps we are at fault, so we do whatever we can think of to make it work. We're stubborn, and we feel like it's our place to fix whatever's wrong. But in the end, we only diminish ourselves in the process.

The LW, I suppose, will have to live and learn. And one day--hopefully from a position of strength--she'll look back on this whole episode, and this guy, and go "what the F**K was I thinking?!"