White Knights and Unicorns

It's my goal to write every day. No fear of censure for poor writing from an audience who I don't know exists yet, so I will be brave and opine and whine and rant and be creative as much as I can. I want to see if this "writing as a discipline" thing has anything to it.

Last night. Out to a movie with an ex-almost something fellow. Talking over hot chocolates, I realized I am the writer who doesn't write. Or not enough. I'm always waiting for the right moment of inspiration, or spending so much time trying to set up the right mood and atmosphere to write, that I exhaust myself trying to be a writer. That I forget to write...

I've been having loads of politically/socially incorrect moments lately. I was flipping through my latest copy of Vanity Fair, reading a brilliant article by Sebastian Juergen, about the forgotten war in Afghanistan. There's a picture of three soldiers in a moment of downtime, lying on the ground, one of them flipping through a magazine, and I thought to myself, amidst inner head nodding and soul elevation, the kind that happens when you read something so moving and perfect and intelligent and fierce, Golly, I thought, men sure do look fine in a uniform.

I could love a soldier. Something sexy about the uniform, the ability to shoot, more importantly;(and politically correct) the ability to know how to shoot and not do so. Something powerful about a man who enlists. They're not all farm boys from Iowa trying to rack up life experience to brag about in hometown bars years later when they arrive at that point in their middle aged lives, broken and battle worn, memories lubricated by denial and alcohol. I believe some do it for love, for love of country, for love of a society that trumpets human rights and the right to be human. And I love that love.

That's where the politically/socially incorrect part comes in. Am I supposed to, as a woman who would claim that a lot of feminist principle shadow the periphery of her morals, find a man in uniform appealing? Where did this fantasy of the knight come from? Is there part of me that loves the machismo, the complete mystery of female exclusion from war and the single-minded pursuit of sniffing out the enemy like a pig searching for truffles?

I'll admit it. There is a part of me that wants to be protected. That dreams of a big, strapping lad who's got my back, if I need my back to be gotten. That gets tired and annoyed sometimes, of the quest to be a self-contained unit of independance and sufficiency, of being my own knight, of eliminating all sense of purpose to masculinity, because femininity should be able to cover both spheres of delicacy and power. And I'll admit that I am entranced by men, mythical beasts that I've made them, because they are so wholly unlike women. And yet, nowadays they are so confused as to their knightly purpose in the court. As are we.

Men and politics, one of my favourite combinations. Men and war, one of the most baffling marriages. And I'm reading an article that is defining in no uncertain terms the bravery needed, the ability to walk straight into your fear and your possible death and ascend it for a greater purpose. And I'm sitting there thinking how hot soldiers are. Good grief!!!

Is it envy? Or is it just human nature to want what you're told not to want? Do we actually need gender roles? No one likes being told what to do, or how they should be, but imagine if men and women had the right to choose who and what they wanted to be, masculine or feminine, and both positions would be considered equal. Maybe lots of us are scared to be mothers and wives because no one takes that job, for it is a job, involving sacrifice and diplomacy and the application of love and passion, seriously, or as on par with being a breadwinner. Until equality is the dominant social principle between men and women, will I have to keep up the fight to be recognized as a woman who can do it all without a man? Will my "dirty fantasies" involve being a housewife? Will I ever admit openly that I love a man in uniform, that I admire the power it represents, without knowing if I want it for myself?

Till next time.