Being Amber Rhea

[This post is a slightly-edited outtake from my Big Bad Essay. It's actually been sitting around on its ass for a couple of weeks, and I finally decided to kick it out of my Word doc and onto the internets.]

I kind of hated breaking my “Blogs Not of Georgia” links into categories (screen shot, in case you’re reading this sometime in the future after another layout change), but I had to do it, because there were just so many that it was getting difficult to look at without some separation. I made a “Geeky” category and a “Sexy” category, but it gnawed at me so much that I added this disclaimer: “No implication meant that ‘geeky’ and ’sexy’ are mutually exclusive.”

The blogs that I placed in each category were placed there based on the primary or most frequent topic of their blogs. But not all blogs are so easily categorized - hence the catch-all “Just a damn good read” category.

Trying to define and group the non-Georgia* blogs to which I link got me thinking about my blog, and how it would be categorized - and I had a tough time coming up with an answer.

• Is it a web development blog? While I write about web dev stuff from time to time, my blog certainly is no 456 Berea St. or molly.com.
• Is it a feminist blog? Maybe, if only because I’m a feminist and this is my blog - but I don’t spend all day chronicling the inequities of the patriarchy.
• Is it a political blog? Please. One or two “Here’s why Republicans suck” posts per month do not a political blog make. There’s a reason I wasn’t approved for the Georgia BlogWire.
• Is it an Atlanta blog? Again, perhaps by default since I live in Atlanta. I also have an online photo album filled with Atlanta pictures, and write about local issues from time to time - but I’m no decaturguy.
• Is it a sex blog? Not by a longshot; although, some might say it is, simply because I write about sex more often than other bloggers they read - which is to say, the other bloggers never mention it.

That last one in particular got me thinking. I get interesting reactions when I post about sex - and I don’t even do it that often. Perhaps that’s part of the reason for the type of response I get. But, what are some other possible explanations? My theory is, there are several factors at work here. Shall we enumerate them? We shall.

• I write about lots of different topics. People may be caught off-guard when they encounter a sex post immediately after a CSS post.
• Like it or not, the fact is that even in the 21st century, it’s still a lot less acceptable (and hence less common) for a girl to speak bluntly about sex than it is for a guy to do so. Which brings us to…
• I write unashamedly about my love for and appreciation of The Good Fucking. Hell, I use the word “fuck.”
• I love me some cock but there are people who think I’m a lesbian because I have short hair and don’t wear make-up. Add to that the fact that (commence own-horn-tooting) I’m smart and nerdy and have two college degrees under my belt and fancy myself as a bit of a wordsmith… In short, I don’t fit the stereotypes (which are stupid anyway, but I digress).

Several sex blogs are part of my ever-increasing collection of almost-daily reads. There’s a reason these blogs are labeled “sex blogs” and mine isn’t. But then again, is it fair to pigeonhole them either? I know Dacia got some flak from some of her readers when her writing started to shift away from recaps of sexual encounters and more toward ruminations about sex as a social and cultural phenomenon. I think both types of writing are worthwhile, and I don’t think Dacia (or anyone) should feel constrained to write about only one or the other. The argument could even be made that the body of work she produces is more valuable because it incorporates both approaches (and everything else along the spectrum). The diversity results in a more well-rounded, and hence more realistic, picture.

I’m not saying that it’s always bad to categorize one’s writing. Plenty of bloggers - some of the most successful ones, in fact - made the decision to write about a specific topic or subject area, and their writing certainly hasn’t suffered for it. Sometimes, having a specific “category” or “type” can be a good thing - it keeps your writing on track, spurs you to think more deeply about specific subjects, and may result in more insightful writing than if you were “free” to write about anything. On the other hand, it can also be restrictive; case in point, the GDBF saying, “I can’t write about [whatever] because this is supposed to be a political blog.” It’s never good to feel constrained by something that was intended as a means of expressing your ideas and creativity.

Most of my favorite blogs to read are ones where the person writes about whatever they want, whether it be what they did that day or some sort of political commentary. That’s not a hard-and-fast rule, though, because some of my favorite blogs fit easily into a pre-defined category. But even those blogs don’t feel so impersonal, because the person occasionally writes about other, semi-related topics, or injects a personal note from time to time. I like this because it gives me an idea of the person behind the writing - and however inaccurate that idea may be, it’s better than reading something written by someone you know nothing about.

Getting back to sex - why, then, would readers be especially shocked or displeased when a “non-sex” blogger writes about sex, or a “sex blogger” writes about - gasp! - some other topic? I would word my answer differently for each question, but either way it’s really the same answer. In the first case: “Sex is a part of life - but a part that many people don’t want to deal with in an upfront manner.” And in the second case: “There’s more to life than sex - believe it or not, bloggers who write mostly about sex are regular people who actually do other things in their day-to-day lives.” These are just two different ways of saying that many people mistakenly impose a non-existant duality on others (and themselves) when it comes to issues of sex. Sexuality is viewed as something separate from the rest of who you are - which means that when you spend most of your time writing about the aspects of your life that encompass “the rest,” it can throw people off balance to see a post about sex, casually thrown in with no warning. Likewise, if you write mostly about sex, people unfairly detach this from the rest of who you are and see you (through your writing) only as a function of your sexuality, rather than a whole person of whom sexuality is but one part.

Dismantling this imposed duality is no easy task, and a lot of people (understandably) don’t want to put up with all the hubbub from ignorant readers, so they stick to writing one way or the other. Blogs that seamlessly incorporate both are few and far between. Obviously I think this is a good thing and should happen more often, and I say hats off to the bloggers who are moving forward with it. (Joseph accomplishes it particularly well.) But still, we need more.

It is important that people not feel prohibited from writing about sex on a personal level, and that there be bloggers who combine normal, everyday minutiae with stories of The Good Fucking, because sex is something that, as I already mentioned, is typically seen as separate from the rest of who you are. And so many people have an attitude of shame or guilt about sex, that it’s important to get it out in the open as something that’s natural, normal, awesome, and most definitely not something to be ashamed of.

So, uh, back to the original point, inasmuch as I had one… how would you categorize my blog?

* Ed. note: You might ask why I categorized blogs based on location in the first place. Why, because it’s easy, of course!