Mrs. Hall, You Can Actually See a Girl Naked Then Treat Her Like a Human Being
Because I wrote that article on the purity movement and how instead I plan to teach my daughter what I consider healthy respect for her body and sexuality rather than treating her vagina like some ancient tomb to be guarded by cultish warriors I got sent the blog entry by one Mrs. Hall entitled "FYI (if you're a teenage girl)." A lot. Click on the link if you want, but here is the gist.
Mrs. Hall's blog... now updated without pictures of her sons posing shirtless at the beach.
Hall basically penned a letter to every teenage girl on Facebook letting them know that they were doing themselves great disservice whenever they posted pictures of themselves that were at all revealing on their profiles. This included girls in their pajamas not wearing bras underneath, which is silly because movies have taught me girls don't wear bras to bed. They cover their breasts with those weird L-shaped sheets. Throw in an arched back or pouty lips, and Hall insists that your profile be blocked from her house lest her teenage boys be tempted to linger on these images.
I know your family would not be thrilled at the thought of my teenage boys seeing you only in your towel. Did you know that once a male sees you in a state of undress, he can't ever un-see it? You don't want the Hall boys to only think of you in this sexual way, do you?
Mrs. Hall seems like a very nice lady, if exceptionally hung up on the idea that her children might possible be sporting un-authorized erections. She honestly seems to think she's offering girls good advice on how to not over-stimulate males to the point where they, I don't know, can't wait for the marriage bed as she feels is proper or something. I can respect that even if I think it's dumb.
I do take exception to the idea that my gender is utterly incapable of co-existing with a girl we've seen in a state of undress. That idea is actually one of the feints of misogyny and rape culture, the idea that men can't help themselves so women must police their entire physical existence lest they wake the uncontrollable penis beast of DOOOOOOOOOM!
Mrs. Hall, let me tell you about my female friends...
The best man at my wedding was a woman. Let's call her Lynn. I did Rocky Horror with her for several years, which means that I've seen her in extremely sexy lingerie. I've even briefly seen her topless thanks to a wardrobe malfunction.
More than that, I was her Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu sparring partner (To clarify, I was actually supposed to be the untrained attacker she would be defending herself from... which she did easily because she's a ninja and I'm a pudgy writer). This involved me lying on top of her, sweaty, writhing, holding her arms back, bodies strained to the physical limit. Sound hot? Yeah, it kind of was.
On the rare occasion I get to see Lynn these days, I'm not thinking about her nipples or lying on top of her. I'm thinking about how cute her kids are, or we're talking about Doctor Who, or discussing writing, or a million other things that friends shoot the breeze over that don't involve brief moments in our long history when her form may have excited my genitals.
Piece continues on next page.