Good Girls Don't

I watched Sex: The Annabel Chong Story the other day. For those who aren't familiar with this particular documentary, Annabel Chong was the first person to participate in the world's biggest gang bang (251 men in 10 hours which although it seems like a lot has since been topped several times over; the current record is now 620 -- I'd like to know exactly which organisation keeps track of these things??).

For whatever reason, I was simultaneously fascinated and horrified by Annabel Chong's accomplishments. Fascinated, I think, because she is a surprisingly intelligent, erudite and educated woman who elected to enter into the world of pornography to challenge the boundaries of society's perceptions of female sexuality. Or so she says. The documentary does make room for the fact that she might just be a fucked up individual who was raised in a sexually conservative and constricting society (Singapore), later the victim of a gang rape at the age of 21, and at the time of her sexual conquests, simply a lost girl looking for shock value and the ensuing attention.

Being Asian, and having been raised in what can only be called a sexually repressed or stifling household, I empathised with Annabel for her position. It was heart wrenching to watch the scenes of the documentary involving her mother, who at the outset of the film had no idea as to her daughter's activites overseas, and spoke proudly of her childhood accomplishments. I kept remembering how hard it had been for my parents to have to face and accept the fact that I wasn't going to be a virgin on my wedding night. I couldn't help but think what Annabel's mom must have felt when her daughter revealed what she had been up to in the good ole U.S. of A. Because of course, Asian girls simply don't have sex with anyone before marriage, and certainly not 251 men within a ten hour span.

I thought of a discussion I had recently with an old university friend over lunch. We didn't actually arrange to meet for lunch, but then it turned into a three hour affair, so we willingly worked food (and lovely luscious desserts) into our time together.

Anyway, our conversation turned at some point to sex, chiefly because we were discussing our big brothers who screwed us up with their twisted version of Sex Ed 101 and our parents, all of whom are similarly uptight and repressed about sex and sexuality. Interestingly enough, both she and I have much the same views on different aspects of sex which leads me to believe that we are either both morally bankrupt, or completely comfortable with our own sexuality and therefore totally together people. Of course, I prefer the latter explanation.

Essentially, she and I agreed that while we might not necessarily partake in certain acts, neither did we pass judgement on those who did. We both felt that anything that happened between two (or more) consenting adults was A-okay so long as it didn't involve children or animals. Pleasure is in the eye of the beholder, and far be it for us to impose our values and views upon others.

What I admired about Annabel Chong a.k.a Grace Quek, was the fact that she claimed to have chosen porn as a profession, rather than having been forced into it for lack of alternatives. In the documentary, colleagues described her as being a chick clearly into having sex without having to go through the whole arduous dating process. The question of course, was whether in fact this was an apt portrayal. Did she really exercise freewill in becoming a porn star, or was her judgement coloured by other factors? While I can't see myself participating in a gang bang of such gargantuan proportions (in terms of numbers and 'equipment'), if that was what turned her on, then who am I to pass judgement upon her?

One thing I've never grasped is that whole double standard with regards to sex. Both my friend and I were raised by parents who advocated a strict no-sex rule with regards to their daughters. (In my case, it was even stricter as my parents didn't want to go anywhere close to the slippery slope, so no-sex extended to anything that might lead to sex -- kissing, dating, touch dancing, talking on the phone, etc.) But our parents' sons could go out and conquer to their hearts' content, and were even at some level, encouraged to do so. As my step-daughter so eloquently puts it ... WTF??! If good girls don't and only big sluts do, then who exactly are your sons sleeping with? I mean, does it bring you pride to know that your boy is screwing around with a total tart?

During the sex talk luncheon, one the things that my friend bemoaned wqs her mother's stock line: "Why buy the cow if you can have the milk for free?" It completely infuriated both of us. While my mother didn't put it in those exact terms, those were her sentiments to a T. We both took it as an implication that our intrinsic value was measured solely in terms of our physical purity and intactedness. Any action that might bring about a reduction in that state was therefore deemed inappropriate. A man couldn't possibly be interested because he was face-to-face with a fascinating, intelligent person, but because he was trying to be the first to break the barrier, so to speak. According to our mothers, the only surefire way to get a man to marry you was to hold out. Your virginity was considered to be leverage to that end.

The interesting thing I discovered later in life is that my parents must have thought about sex an awful lot while they led what appeared to be completely moral lives. However, the human psyche being what it is, repression seldom works. Think of the priests -- their monogamous relationship is with God and therefore there are no allowances made for sexual contact with others. Unfortunately if you stifle that part of yourself, it does ooze out in other ways, and probably more inappropriately so.

Whenever I think about my parents' perspective on sex and sexuality, I always think about the Victorians. I mean, there was an era filled with intensely sexually curious people, who simultaneously declared the act to be evil and sick, while longing to explore all the forbidden acts. Quite clearly, they thought of sex all the time (and reviled themselves for doing so) -- I mean, who has covers specifically designed for piano legs because they believe that a mere glance at them could cause sexual frenzy? Who looks at furniture legs and gets sexually excited? Only those that are perpetually horny and in utter denial of their state.

Unfortunately, my parents had no experience with their own sexuality and therefore, a lot of unanswered questions and a burning curiosity. (They had some interesting literature stashed away). Consequently anything that had a remote connection to sex and one's sexual organs was taboo and deemed "dirty". They came from a culture and a generation that didn't encourage any kind of openness with regards to sexuality. So to them, I guess I am somewhat of an Annabel Chong.

I remember my mom asking me with horror what I was planning to do when I finally met my future husband. Was I going to pretend I was a virgin? It would have been quite funny except for the fact that she was dead serious. In her mind, I'd ruined my chances of snagging a good husband because of my sexual misconduct. So naturally years later, when I announced that I was in love and that the man I was going to marry was older, divorced and had a child (all considered to be negative traits for my mom), it only reinforced her belief that my drastically reduced market value had left me with only the undesirables, the slim pickings. It never once occurred to her that a man might actually like a woman who was experienced and comfortable with expressing herself sexually.

I would love to one day relate to my mom a story that another friend had shared with me recently. This particular friend is in a profession somewhat related to counselling. His speciality deals with people who are in the midst of or on the verge of divorce. After having given a speech somewhere, he was approached by a woman who intimated that she might like to retain his services.

Over coffee, she confided the details of her life to him. Apparently, she'd married a man who had been throughout elementary and high school years, the nerd of all nerds. Possibly as a consequence of having spent his formative years ill-treated by others, he could only get aroused if his wife would first beat him with a leather belt. Although the wife was somewhat shocked by this requirement, she participated as the dominant sadist because she loved her husband and wanted to please him. Unfortunately, hubby had to raise the ante to achieve his Nirvana (desensitization is such a bitch) and found that he got turned on by beating wifey before the loving act. While wifey had been a reluctant participant in the former act of S and M, she was not too keen on being the recipient of the strap. At this juncture in the story, I had to interrupt my friend with a diatribe advocating pre-marital sex, if only to determine whether your drives, needs and predilections are compatible.

I hope that the attitudes I pass on to my children with regards to their bodies, sex and sexuality are healthy ones. My husband always says that I'm the liberal one in the family because I don't care if my kids are hetero, gay, trans-sexuals, transvestites or any combination thereof so long as they are capable of having healthy and loving relationships with people, and are happy with the choices they make.


As I get older, I find myself consistently amazed by the amount of time that people devote universally through the ages to sex, the pursuit of sex, or just plain thinking and talking about sex. Why is that?

Granted, sex sells. We've all had that drummed into us from time immemorial, but is it a biological drive, or is it just sensationalistic crap?
Seriously though, it is amazing how much time and energy is invested into thinking about sex. More time thinking about it than actually carrying out the deed itself. It seems that if one isn't actually doing the nasty, than they're either in pursuit of it or just plain thinking about it. My take on it is that people should just get it over with so that they can then just get on with the rest of their lives.

But then again, I am a scientist's daughter -- I believe in going to the lab and testing out one's hypotheses. Ironic that my parents instilled that belief in me. I'm sure they'd be shocked to know the ways in which I applied it!