Labels are boxes. Labels impose limitation. Labels force our perceptions to match their specifications. Most of the time, I despise labels and eschew them to my best ability. Then why did I feel so let down when two women on OkCupid so vehemently rejected the labels that fit them to a tee?
Ceci N’Est Pas une Pipe
Perhaps his most famous work, Rene Magritte’s “La trahison des images” (translated as “The Treason\Treachery of Images”) rocked the art world. The painting was meant to cause us to question our perceptions and the way we assign value to things, or better yet, how we label things that may appear to be something but in fact are something else. He was quoted as saying the following about the painting:
The famous pipe. How people reproached me for it! And yet, could you stuff my pipe? No, it's just a representation, is it not? So if I had written on my picture "This is a pipe," I'd have been lying!
Most of us see a pipe and think it’s a pipe. We don’t consciously recognize that we are looking at a painting of a pipe, yet that’s what it is: a painting, not a pipe. How much does this extend to the labels we apply to people based on their actions and proclivities? At what point should a label be accepted or rejected, and does it even matter?
Meanwhile on OkCupid…
Two weeks ago, I had two close encounters with seemingly excellent fits for my current fetishes. For the purpose of this post and maintaining their privacy, I will refer to them as Lolita and T. My disappointing encounters with both of these women via OkCupid prompted the writing of this post. Although some of it emanated from their refusal to accept apt labels, most of my disappointment came from the discontinued correspondence with them after the experiences. Both encounters were distinctly different, but both had the same theme: label rejection.
Lolita – (Not) Ageplay
Label: Ageplay – when two or more people assume roles based on generation gaps, with dynamics ranging from innocent to psychosexual.
When Lolita first showed up in my quiver, I got very excited to see we were a ninety percent match. She was so much my type, a curvy twenty-five year old with dark hair, brown eyes, and a love for Nabokov’s “Lolita.” On her profile, she followed up her declaration with “but not for the creepy reasons.” So, I rated her highly and removed her from my quiver. I wouldn’t deign to be the creepy guy to approach her.
Little less than a week later, I got a message from her apologizing for “creeping” on my profile. Then came the OkCupid message telling me we rated each other as either a four or five.
Hmm, okay. This was interesting and I wasn’t sure where to take things or how to interpret it. After all, I’m forty years old. There is a fifteen year difference between us. If you read my OkCupid profile, you’d see that anyone rating me highly is quite the pervert at heart.
After I write her back and she expresses admiration for my honesty and place in life, I open up completely and share some private and perverted things about me, then end the email with an inquiry into her intrigue with me. I pointed to her love of “Lolita,” the triad she had in which they took on traditional roles with her as the mother, and the fact she contacted me in the first place. My email was met with silence. For me, in the world of online dating, that nearly always means only one thing: rejection. Sigh. I move on.
T – (Not a) Slut
Label: Slut – a person who has sex with more than one person as opposed to a single partner (i.e. monogamy)
T is a rare find. She is a woman who can’t get fucked enough. She loves cock. When I asked her how to find someone like her, she admitted to not knowing. Furthermore, she admitted to having never found any one man who can meet her needs and explained that’s why she likes to have a few on hand. What a find!
She first came to my attention via Twitter. She’s rare in the sense that she actually reads and engages, and most importantly for the sake of this post, reads and engages my tweets. I’m always surprised when she replies to one of my tweets or DMs me.
One day, I read an article about an experiment in which the researcher set up 10 fake OkCupid profiles with people of varying degrees of attractiveness. I remembered that T had mentioned getting so many responses to her OkC profile that she closed it down. I told her that according to the findings of the experiment, she must be one of the “hot” ones.
That all leads to her pointing me to her new profile filled with nothing but song lyrics. She has answered the questions, though, and we’re an eighty-six percent match. We started to chat via OkC messages. I’m quite candid and tell her I’ve been cumming quick and easy to thoughts of her. She asks how I could possibly have enough details to manage that. I tell her that I know enough based on her tweets, the couple of head shots she’s posted, and her OkC answers to get a close enough picture.
One thing leads to the other. I’m pulled from my then-current fantasy girl “Fabiola” and begin cumming to T on a regular basis. Then it comes to a sudden and reproachful end. This is where the label factor comes in.
At a point in our conversation, I termed her multiple liaisons as “sluttery.” This upset her and she took the opportunity to warn me against the use of “whore.”
Now, I can understand someone getting upset with the word “whore.” That conveys the sense of selling yourself. “Slut,” on the other hand, denotes a looseness. Perhaps that’s why the label bothers her.
Still, it disappointed me to learn that should we ever fuck I’d never be able to satisfy that aspect of my kinky side. A huge part of her appeal is her actual slutty behavior. I use the term in the societal sense stripped of the derogatory element and replaced with admiration. A woman who unabashedly fucks multiple men because one can never do it for her.
How could I not have assumed that she embraced the label of “slut”? It came as a great blow, but her reason reflected a level of thought that was endearing. She wants to be with one man. She just can’t find one who can satisfy her totally, so she chooses to continue with fucking multiple partners. I can respect that, but still remain disappointed.
Why I Dislike It
After writing all this, I realize that it’s not these two women in whom I’m disappointed. It’s myself. My need for these two to accept who I think they are based on the image they present of themselves, online anyway.
Sure, most would say that T’s sexually promiscuous life represents sluttery, but it’s not. T’s not a slut. She is a sexually liberated woman who admits her inability and concedes to accept an honest sexual lifestyle over one that doesn’t enrich her in the ways she needs.
T’s chosen to view “slut” as a derogatory word only; it means something much different to her than to me. In my definition of a slut, T is one of the truly great sluts. A slut before whom all should bow at some point in their lives.
There in lies the source of my disappointment; I want her to be my image of the slut, so when she rejects the correlation, I’m left feeling let down. I know that she is her own person and that I should accept her as she is. Instead, I discontinue my until-then intense masturbation fantasies when I learn that “slut” makes her angry.
It seems childish of me. After all, I know that she’s into some seriously intense fucking and is a promiscuous woman in practice. Most women aren’t into being called sluts. It just surprises me who does and does not like being called a slut and a whore. It’s quite often not who’d you think.