Damned if you do, damned if you don’t: the Madonna-whore complex, revisited

The personal is political. It’s a saying that my three semesters of social work classes have drilled into my head. My understanding of it is that it’s the realization that what affects you as an [[enter race and/or ethnicity] [enter age] [enter sexual orientation] [enter sex] — in my case, a Caucasian 20-year-old heterosexual female] is not limited to your experience alone; rather, your experience as a human being is tied to greater societal systems of privilege and oppression. Nothing is truly felt in the personal sphere without being part of larger set societal norms. (But if you’re not feeling my summary and want a more official definition, it won’t hurt my feelings). For a while I took this phrase as one of those annoying theoretical concepts you memorize for the test and then rapidly lose; that is, until I realized recently how intricately the Madonna-whore dichotomy has impacted my life.

In reality, the Madonna-whore complex impacts all females. I remember this dichotomy as being very pronounced in high school. Surely you remember how it went; your male friends mocked the “sexually promiscuous” girls (read: girls who dared have more than one sexual partner) while simultaneously wondering what was wrong with the few girls who would admit to being virgins. Let’s be real, though, this wasn’t a trend that stayed behind when you graduated (like sneakers with built-in wheels or choker necklaces or blue glitter eyeshadow). Chances are, if you’re a college female at JMU, this dichotomy has never really left your life.

I really started brainstorming more on this subject when I read the comments posted on the trailer for the upcoming Natalie Portman/Ashton Kutcher movie No Strings Attached. One of the snarkiest comments said something to the effect of “Nice try, Natalie; you built a career for yourself playing quirky yet intelligent young women and now you’ve chosen a slutty character; way to go, you’ve lowered your standards.” I’ll admit, I haven’t seen the movie (yet), but let’s get it straight, people; just because a woman makes her own sexual decisions (whether to have sex with one partner, multiple partners, or no partners) does not make her a “slut.” It makes her a self-assured, independent woman who refuses to bow down to long-outdated patriarchal expectations. I’m wary of making overarching assumptions about this film without viewing it but from what I have observed (and the opinion I have crafted), Natalie Portman’s portrayal of a confident young doctor who is comfortable asserting her wants and desires is something we don’t see enough of in mainstream media (see the Bechdel test post below).

So there’s your mainstream media interpretation of slut-shaming, the Madonna-whore complex, etc. etc. How has this become personal, though, you ask?

Recently, I’ve had a series of in-depth conversations with some of my feminist male friends about everything from female masturbation (inspired by a recent post on this very blog) to post-birth paternal leave (snaps for it!) to pro-father custody court decisions. And one question I’ve been compelled to ask of late is “How do guys really feel about beginning a relationship (emotional or physical or both) with a female virgin?” What was most interesting to me was how many of my male friends categorized the range of sexual opportunities for women: ALL of them made it into a virgin v. slut debate. Pros and cons were debated over the validity of sleeping with a virgin v. sleeping with a woman with “too many” (euphemism mine) sexual partners (most often categorized as more than five if said girl lost her virginity at 16 and is now 20). Virgin seemed to be most often defined as a woman who had not experienced penis-in-vagina sex. The continuum of sexual behavior was rarely viewed as a continuum; virgins were assumed to be the never-been-kissed type, and non-virgins were seen as the had-too-much-sex type.

This dichotomy is endlessly frustrating to me as a girl with friends all over the spectrum of (hetero- and LGBTQ) sexual behavior. Personally, I don’t view sex as an all-or-nothing split; some of my friends who are waiting for marriage have worn down the edge of “everything but” and are an engagement ring away from crossing that (thin) line. It’s endlessly frustrating to me that virginity is constantly associated with complete and utter sexual naivety and non-virginity with sexual over-experience. The reality is that there is a continuum of behavior. Think back to your high school days (and yes, those sweet wheel-in-sole sneakers) and the “baseball” discussion — you know, 1st base, 2nd base, 3rd base, and a home run — or, if you ran with the uncensored crowd, the “Four Fs.” See, there really is much more than just virgin and slut! And, in my opinion, the sooner we stop judging others based on this fake dichotomy, the sooner we’ll approach what is enlightenment (jk, I’m not Gandhi yet), but rather true tolerance and better yet, acceptance.

I love discussing this topic with others and now I want to hear your stories: how does the Madonna-whore complex play into your life and/or relationships?