This “it” of mine
This two-cylinder blood sponge defines much of who I am. Our ‘it’ can be a source of exploration and confidence. As a society, we are obsessed with it.
‘It’ is demonized and idealized. It is justified and scapegoated. Phallus shaped effigies dominate popular culture and even our written language is injected with its influence.
Any sausage shape alludes to my it. People make cucumber comments and mention melons other than those in the fruit selection. Certain politicians obsess over their ‘it’ and make an effort to prove theirs is ‘sizable’.
Politics is exhibitionist if we believe that the size of ‘it’ relates to that half of the population job ability. Though, many of those ‘leading’ politicians, in many countries, are using it “well” in another way.
Our ‘it’ are all bullshit. The kind of bullshit talked about in “Bullshit Jobs”. Everyone knows it is there, knows that it does illogical, normal stuff. The Pink Elephant. An invisible, visible gorilla. We avoid, joke, tease and reluctantly talk and explore it. About half of everyone has one kind of ‘it’ another half has a different one. There are other kinds and mixed kinds. There is one for almost everyone (some are missing, lost or broken).
It is blamed for much, defended and welcomed. I’ve spent most of my life (especially puberty) blaming mine for all kinds of things. Tight jeans weren’t the problem. ‘It’ was always the problem. Stuck in just the wrong angle and responding to some chaff or vibration in just the right-wrong way and suddenly I’ve got to figure out some public Heimlich maneuver on my pants while pretending that absolutely nothing is happening.
We believe in logical bodily function; while walking through a life of animalistic physical and visually primed responses to hooting owls.
Our children are captivated and confused by theirs. Parents encourage their children to talk about ‘it’ in the “right” company. They also need to learn to hide it, pretend and ignore. We want our children to take full responsibility for it, without exploring it. Or, at least, not when/where anyone can see…
It is scapegoated as a justification for bad behavior. “Oh, they are just thinking with ‘it’. That is how they are…” . We don’t draw the same conclusions for other body parts. I don’t get chided or teased for thinking with my knee or liver. I do think with my gut. Our world allows exceptions for a certain group of body-function-associated-excuses.
We should start a movement to provide equal exceptions for all body parts and functions. “My skin hit them. It wasn’t ‘me’… Of course, my finger prints were on the murder weapon, officer. My fingers did it. I couldn’t control them.”
‘It’ is embarrassing and provides unexpected participation in events it wasn’t invited to. It is a constant reminder of our emotional, animal history. The wild chipmunks in our pants.
‘It’ is a reminder of our embarrassingly patriarchal world. Even if we push against the privileges, they are jammed down our pants. #MeToo is an example the backlash against this culture of phallic worship, justification and exceptionalism. There should be a complimenting movement like #ItsMe to force the point that we are responsible for understanding and exploring our ‘it’ and dealing with it.
The another half of us has a different it. They deal with similar it problems and lots of others. Our ‘it’ benefit and suffer from the image of dominance, force and aggression. There are many people with both, mixed or different kinds of it. We obsess so much about our it that we blur the line between our identities and it. Our ‘it’ shouldn’t be shameful half-kept-ignored-acknowledged-pretended-confused secrets. It is something worth exploring and understanding.
‘It’ sells. Strapping, lubricating, bulging, showing, hiding, enlarging, squeezing, piercing, massaging, watching, touching, licking, filming, painting, hurting, petting, tickling and satisfying it occupies a sizable portion of our attention. Book stores are dedicated to discussing the different ways it is used in fantasy, fiction, and non-fiction. Characters which use it a lot are seen as powerful and good. Evil characters abuse it or are strangely without interest in it. Our skill with ‘it’ is associated with heroism.
Rarely do we talk about how we can satisfy our own it. We can hack our own bodies just as easily as doing it with someone else. Looking inwards and accepting, exploring and understanding our individual it offers a way to unlock a much more complex and fulfilling human experience. It is part of our own bodies. Shouldn’t we be the ones who know how to get the best out of it?
Incels are an example of the lack of this taken to an extreme. A complete obsession with only one way to please it and how life itself lacks meaning if they can’t use their it in a certain way. Rather than celebrate the possibilities of personal and religious exploration and give believers a real way to understand themselves, self manage and deal with their choice of celibacy, religious celibacy bans exploration outside of defined unnatural constructs.
There were times in our collective past (and many locations today) where pornography and self-exploration of our ‘it’ is considered off-limits as it disrupts a singular social norm.
For many people reading this article, the social stigma is something different. It is one driven by small-group norms: social media cliches where we try to be accepted; weird, insta-ready-prepped-imaginations of what it ‘should’ be like; groups of our peers who brag about conquest and technique; and families confused by changes and conflicting feelings. If change was comfortable, it wouldn’t be normal.
Confident self-exploration, unlocks social dynamics, just like access to employment, nutrition and security. People who want to have children can do an it-interaction or go for artificial it. All kinds of different forms of consensual relationships are possible with an exploration of our it.
If we look to the animal kingdom and even our own histories, our past selves had much more open minded approaches to our bodies (and frighteningly abusive tendencies as well). Ancient Chinese, Greeks, Indians and (I will make the guess) all other past societies (wealthy people) have at times lived open, exploratory lives where investigation of their bodies was seen as a sign of culture, wealth and power. Today we have an interesting window in to both opposites. Groups obsession with control, prediction and abstinence, and others pursuing free exploration of everything. With a sprinkling of everything in-between.
Podcasts like the Savage Lovecast with frank, open conversations about what we want to do with our respective it. The advice is entertaining and insightful into the inner workings of a wide range of it, yet still focused on satisfaction via a traditional couple or group setting. We obsess about hacking our physique, our minds and should too obsess over our it.
We obsess about the shape, sculpting and balance of other it and make our balance of it paramount to a positive, satisfying experience. Two beautifully equipped, inconsiderate people make a horrible couple. That alone is the most pure example of the pointlessness of ‘it’ culture, the obsession with collecting other experiences rather than investigating our own ‘it’. Should we celebrate a disease-free, imaginary one-night-stand with our respective it?
I used to joke with people that my goal in life was to reach the point in my career where I could get paid to sit in the toilet, read magazines and play with it. Years later, I learned people talking to it before a big decision to focus and relax. There are people who spend considerable time in toilets and other places doing things with their it (sometimes involving others).
Books like “The Man Who Couldn’t Stop” help open the conversation about it. They talk frankly about all the weird that goes on in our heads. The body does many illogical, normal things.
We can open the conversation around it. Stop the nod-nod-wink-wink game of pretend with different cucumber shaped analogies and wardrobe malfunctions. After all, we now talk openly about all the different kinds of it, the other kinds, the unique kinds and maybe, even one day, a new kind.
We don’t need to talk about it over coffee. Let’s all explore our ‘it’ in our own ways. ‘It’ is possibility.