Control...

Whether you like it or not, we spend a huge part of our lives being controlled by other people. From a very young age, we are introduced to a host of influential characters designed to make a significant contribution to our lives. Teachers, parents, employers and nuns. We never really escape authority and while most of us cannot wait to exert power of our own, some of us derive great satisfaction by being told what to do, when and how to do it. What we don't know at the time is that we are slowly being conditioned into one of two roles...the powerless or the powerful.

As I headed down south for the long weekend, I pulled into the local News Cafe to catch up with Charlotte and Emily. We'd somehow got onto the topic of sex when Emily made a shocking revelation. "I love giving head. I don't know, I think it's a power thing for me." Charlotte nearly gagged at the thought of it and chose to adopt the opposing stance. For Charlotte, a man who takes control in the bedroom is what made her cookie crumble. As I considered both ideas placed in front of me, I couldn't help but wonder, have we been geared for sexual segregation all our lives? Is the world made up of Anastasia Steeles and Christian Greys? Masters and slaves, tops and bottoms, S & M? Can one extreme exist without the submission of the other? 

When the power dynamic is mutually beneficial, sexual satisfaction is a sure win but what happens when the darker side of control becomes too much? Manipulation is a skillful art used as a defense mechanism by narcissists who are either too insecure or too afraid to live in the real world. They spend a lifetime creating a false identity in order to safeguard their innermost vulnerabilities. What may have started out as a positive reinforcement of one's self-esteem turns into a compulsive need to control everything and everyone around them. While most of us refuse to acknowledge our inner control freak, the other half is busy getting off on it...and not in a good way.

If you have a friend like Gee it's best you run the other way and don't look back. She's beautiful, charming, confident and not afraid to let the world know it. She's the kind of girl who never pays for her own drinks at a bar, a legend in her own right with a head the size of an air balloon. She's revels in using her sexual prowess to get what she wants no matter who gets hurt in the process and at the end of the day, nobody's feelings matter but hers. Basically she gives women a bad name.

The one thing that always amazed me about Gee was the way she'd always have some kind of lap dog boyfriend eating out the palm of her hand despite going out of her way to humiliate and disrespect him in public. I remember the time that she physically assaulted some guy in the middle of a dinner party before storming off into the middle of the night. I was mortified for him but like the fool that he was, he went after her. Was this form of hyper-dominance or submission maybe going a little bit too far? Just how damaged was she? Was her vagina made of platinum?

Peter Parker probably said it best; "with great power comes great responsibility". The ability to influence and wield power over someone is a great gift especially when you find someone eager and willing to submit. There is a fine line between sexual empowerment and sexual manipulation and while some men and women make it their personal mission to assert their dominance through sex, money and physical strength, control is essentially yours for the taking. 

When it comes to control, what role do you play?

The Cost of Loving

No matter how budget savvy you are it's hard to avoid the ever increasing cost of living. Thanks to inflation, we are forced to make certain cutbacks in our month-to-month expenses in order to keep up with the negative side-effects that price hikes have on our bank accounts. From social activities to second guessing luxury items we once couldn't live without, we learn to adapt our living standards to more cost-effective solutions. Unless you are in the fortunate position where money is no object, inflation essentially comes down to one thing...compromise.

As I searched the shelves for the cheapest pack of no-range skinless chicken breasts, I starting thinking about relationships and the cost of loving. Any relationship worth staying in requires time, patience, sacrifice and a shit load of effort. Life happens somewhere in-between and we are often faced with compromising scenarios that are as unfavourable and unpredictable as fluctuating inflation rates. Relationships are far from consistent, so when the value of a long-term relationship increases, so does its demand, and in a city where the supply of decent relationships are at an all-time low, it's necessary to make certain concessions in order to make existing ones work.

Whoever said that love don't cost a thing was seriously deluded. Or JLo! It had been a month since Aiden resigned from work and I was nowhere near getting used to the idea of a one paycheck lifestyle. Even though I had made the conscious decision to support him throughout this difficult time, and despite the efforts made to secure himself a new job, the resentment was starting to build up fast. I found myself bitching and moaning about the smallest things and constantly pushing him to work harder than he already was. For the first time in my life, I was mentally struggling to adapt. So much had changed in such a short period of time from our declining social calendar to clipping coupons at Pick and Save. Was this seriously the price I had to pay for loving someone so unconditionally? 

I was beginning to feel love spent and needed some time to deflate. The thought of leaving Aiden to clean up his own mess had crossed my mind more than I cared to admit and even though my heart was in the right place, my mind seemed to be all over. Thanks to the constant stress of my current situation, my vicious criticisms had turned me into an overnight super-bitch so much so that I had completely discarded the rewards that came with being in an exclusive loyalty programme. Had the cost of loving Aiden finally gone over my head or was I maybe too quick to overlook the benefits of being in a relationship altogether? Support. Companionship. Sexual chemistry. Someone who actually loves you for you. When they say that a good man is hard to find, they ain't kidding. It's so easy to forget the good things that work in a relationship when times are tough and after all, isn't that the true test of being in a committed relationship?

It's true what they say...the best things in life are free especially when everything comes at such a heavy price. Love is unfortunately no exception, so the sooner you learn to bargain, the sooner you'll find yourself adjusting to any given situation. It's much easier to give up on something these days than it is to actually take the effort and make it work. Difficult situations can often be a blessing in disguise giving us a chance to test the true strength of a loving relationship.     

When it comes to relationships, how do we know if it's worth the compromise?

The Comedown

They say that addiction is the continued use of a substance that alters one's mood and behaviour over a long period of time despite the obvious adverse consequences. The more we use, the higher our tolerance, and the higher our tolerance, the greater the dependency becomes. Whether it's alcohol, drugs, gambling or sex, addiction is all about surrendering to some kind of weakness in exchange for an instantaneous high, and while some addicts are fortunate enough to get help before it's too late, the power of withdrawal can sometimes get the better of us.

As I struggled to kick my own filthy habits in the butt, I started thinking about love and its striking resemblance to addiction. Just like any kind of drug, one hit is all it takes to be hooked for life, and in a world full of dealers and pushers, it's hard not to give into the pressure. You can deny it all you want but nothing compares to the feeling of confidence and elated sense of self that comes with falling in love. Racing hearts and butterflies. Everything is amplified from that first kiss to the moment you realise you've just made a significant connection. They don't call it a high for nothing.

But what happens in a situation where your number one dealer decides to leave you high and dry? What happens when he denies you a more potent dose of the good shit that you had become so dependent on? Do we simply move on and find ourselves another fix to fill the void or should we see it as a sign, a chance to admit that we may just have a problem?

"Hi. My name is Sarah and I'm a love-aholic." It took Sarah nearly fifteen years to come clean about her addiction to love. For as long as I've known her, she had been using as often as possible in any way, shape or form. She had recently found herself in one of those frustrating situations where girl meets boy, boy shags girl, girl wants more but boy couldn't care less. What started out as a casual hook up had turned into an ominous dependency, one that had noticeably transformed Sarah into an erratic mess. She had let her emotions get the better of her even though she knew that Mr. X was nothing but a bad habit in a cute disguise.

After carefully observing her own behaviour and the effect that this relationship was having on her heart, Sarah decided to go cold turkey. She had cut off all communication with her latest lover and was on her way to a speedy recovery. After a few short days of sobriety, Sarah started showing severe symptoms of withdrawal. Her sponsor was the first to notice the secret texts and private rendezvous and it wasn't long before Sarah had suffered a massive relapse. Was Sarah merely hooked on hope or was her dependency actually becoming a problem? Was it time for lovers anonymous or was Sarah just in fact a functional addict like the rest of us?   

When it comes to drug of choice, love is the crack of life. It's the ultimate fifty-fifty drug designed to take you up and bring you right back down. We're bound to shoot up eventually and even overdose at times, and even though the comedown from a bad trip can have serious long-term ramifications, there's no greater feeling than the initial rush of meeting a potential soul mate. Whether we're addicts or just recreational users, one thing is certain...when love is good, free and real, there's no greater high in the world.    

When it comes to love, I couldn't help but wonder, are we all addicts?

Picture perfect

A few weeks ago, I decided to take an intensive five day course in digital photography. As usual my theoretical understanding was picture perfect but for some reason, I seemed to be struggling with the practical side of the assignment. What should have been a simple case of “point and shoot” had somehow become an over-complicated, ambiguous mess. The whole experience reminded me of high school and the way in which our eccentric art teacher would ask us to pick up a paint brush and start painting our feelings. “There is no right and there is no wrong answer when it comes to art for beauty lies within the eye of the beholder.”

This kind of whimsical subjectivity may be the very reason Vincent Van Gogh cut off his ear that starry night. Our insane obsession with getting things right or as close to perfect as possible can be altogether consuming especially when society sets the bar so high. Financial freedom, a high-end career and a happy marriage...are these the only goals that frame success or are they just mainstream perceptions we’re expected to want for ourselves? Are we all ultimately after the same thing or was Ms. Moore right? Can one person’s idea of perfection be someone else’s shortcoming and vice versa? 

Aiden and I were finally on the same page. Things were particularly starting to look up for him at work since he landed the promotion he had been working so hard for. He even got himself an attractive salary bump which was in itself a real shocker considering the low life white-collar criminal that he worked for. I had only ever heard negative things about this man. Apparently he was the type that screwed around on his pregnant wife with his barely legal secretary. I also heard that he had a tendency to dip into the staff pension fund to support a cocaine habit. Whatever the case, the firm that Aiden had worked for sounded like a place where ethics and professionalism came to die. It’s no wonder he decided to resign from such a morally repugnant environment.

The initial shock happened at shutter speed. What should have been interpreted as a glass half full situation was in fact the beginning of the end. Instead of showing any kind of support for his decision, I unleashed my inner she-bitch, a force more potent than a thousand volts of PMS. After all we had been through in 2010, all the lies and set-backs, Aiden decided to put me in one more difficult position. And in such a difficult job market where most positions are AA, EE, I O U? We were supposed to travel next year, see Europe. Conversations of buying a house together and marriage now seemed to filter away in the harsh light of reality. Just when you think you’re on the right track and the bigger picture starts coming into focus, something drastic happens to alter the clarity of your perfect composition.

The status of our relationship had become as blurry as my photographic assignments. We were somewhere stuck in limbo walking a very fine line between making it work and ending it completely. Just like all those assignments, our relationship was being tested and I did not like it. Once again, the theory was clear but applying it into actual practice was the bigger challenge especially when there was no right or wrong answer. Had my need for black and white eliminated any kind of subjectivity on the matter? When did my life become so rigid and calculated? Had I really conformed to the standard perceptions of perfection?  

If beauty really does lie within the eye of the beholder then I’ve been temporarily blinded. No matter how hard I try, I just cannot see the upside to my current situation despite Aiden’s attempts to re-invent himself. As individuals we’re entitled to make changes in our life but not at the expense of your partner’s hopes and dreams and not without discussion first. As I sat in limbo trying to adapt, I realised that “perfection” may just be an impractical state of mind especially when life as we know it could change at any given moment.
   

When it comes to a relationship's darkest hour, why is it so hard to see the light? 

A South African Horror Story

At some point in every relationship, a girl will eventually have to succumb to the horror movie genre. It's a guys ultimate form of revenge for inflicting all those Ryan-Gosling-Tatum-Channing-rom-com-chick-flicks that we were simply too busy to catch on girls night, and while most of us are happy to compromise, the rest of us would rather sit through a Brazilian wax ninety times over. As thrilling as they may be, I couldn't help but wonder why scary movies elicit such a negative response. Is it really because of all that gore or is it because they tap into a dark place where all of our hidden, most primal fears come to life?  

For Margot, her biggest fear has always been to live in a world without love and affection which is why she has never been short of a boyfriend. For as long as I’ve known her I have seen her survive one horrific relationship after the next, attracting a smorgasbord of freaks, creeps and blood-sucking monsters. Who could forget Jacques, the possessive, physically abusive psycho that used to lock her up in his apartment because he thought she was cheating on him? Or Herb the 30-something year old teenager who lived by the mantra “bro’s before ho’s”? And then there was Zachary, the much younger artist slash bartender who threatened to kill himself if Margot did not marry him. After so many suicide attempts you’d think he’d be dead by now.

I was starting to think that Margot had been cursed with some kind of bad relationship juju. Just as I was about to call in the priest, she met an amazing yet very simple guy called Wilson. Wilson was everything Margot was not. Quiet, shy, reserved. He was the perfect yin to her self-professed high maintenance yang and even though his intellect was somewhat lacking, he made up for it in ways that made Margot extremely happy. Public displays of affection; small tokens of love and appreciation. Why it seemed as though Margot had finally exorcised her relationship demons once and for all. Or had she?  

About a year into their relationship, things went from sweet dream to hideous nightmare. Both Margot and Wilson were guilty of cheating on each other but had decided to stay together with one of those "forgive and forget" agreements. The betrayal and bitterness of these events grew over the next year causing irrevocable damage to their relationship resulting in constant bickering and public spats that even earned them the title of “bitching couple”. Wilson’s lack of drive and ambition had also become a major problem. It was so exhausting that it was literally sucking the life out of Margot. “All he wants to do is smoke weed. We never talk about our problems. How can I have a relationship with someone who has the emotional depth of a five year old?” Wilson was drowning Margot and she was not about to go under. They were clearly no longer on the same page and even though Margot made every attempt to salvage their fragile relationship, things just didn’t work out.

I guess some relationships really are like horror movies. Predictable, shocking, the final fright. A thrilling sensation at first before the twist that always seems to complicate the storyline, not knowing who the bad guy is until you're being knifed in the back, running up the stairs when you should be running out the front door. The most striking similarity is how these relationships seem to tap into our subconscious, playing on our fears and insecurities until they leave a negative impression about love, life and the possibility of ever having a normal, healthy relationship. I suppose the question at the end of a long and draining relationship is who will survive and what will be left of them?    

When it comes to scary relationships, be afraid. Be very afraid.  

So you think I should date?

Sometime in the sixties, Andy Warhol once said that "in the future, everyone will be world-famous for fifteen minutes." While Mr. Warhol was probably laced on hallucinogenic drugs at the time, no-one could have predicted just how accurate he was. If there were ever an episode of MTV's Celebrity Deathmatch, Andy Warhol would be kicking Nostradamus' butt right about now. Idols, The Voice, Survivor...no matter what your poison, reality TV is everyone's favourite guilty pleasure. It's come a long way since Big Brother graced our screens back in 2000 and even though the formats have changed, viewers are still essentially in control. Anyone can be famous these days and while some degree of talent is required for making a winning impression, the most crucial ingredient for success is how we captivate the adoration of the audience. 

A couple of weeks ago, Charlotte and I decided to ditch date night and proceeded north to review a local talent show hosted by a young entrepreneur she had recently met online. His name was Cal, a 28-year old producer and vocal coach who had just started his own music academy. Despite the obvious reason for being there, I was pleasantly surprised to see an abundance of talent hiding behind this so-called boerewors curtain. It's no secret...South Africa definitely has talent and even though Charlotte was smitten by Cal and Cal's biceps, she seemed to be waiting for some kind of validation from me, a thumbs up or tally of votes that would push him through to the next round of So You Think I Should Date? One thing's for sure, he had the sex-factor. 

A few weeks later I found myself on the set of another reality show a.k.a Master Chef - Maynard Manor. It was Liane's turn to cook for her housemates so she decided to stage a rehearsal dinner for her nearest and dearest, a sisterhood organisation referred to as "The Nod". While the main purpose of this exercise was to get feedback on Liane's culinary skills, a hidden agenda was brewing beneath the steaming pots of bunny-chow breyani. Liane, who had secretly been seeing an Afrikaans boy for the past month needed some approval from Paula, Simon and the rest of the peanut gallery in order to determine whether she liked him or not. Why is beyond me but still we reviewed him as we would any other contestant. Contenders, are you ready? Unfortunately, the judges were not that impressed with his performance. He was extremely dull, uncommunicative and unable to keep up with our shenanigans. One comment about his accent and that was that. Goodbye, you are the weakest link.

It's shocking to think that someone's opinion can ultimately influence someone else's decision. Yes, there are times when a second opinion is necessary and welcome even but have we maybe grown a little too dependent on each other? Why do we always need some kind of approval? Are we that timid to accept the consequences of our own decisions out of fear at being judged? 

As I flipped the station over to my own relationship, I realized that The Aiden and Manni Show had taken a serious dip in ratings. After being thrown a particularly stressful storyline which included all the right trimmings for great TV drama, we were on the verge of being cancelled for good. Tears, conflicts, bickering. The final straw. I found myself at a relationship crossroad. Was I about to give up on three successful seasons in the hopes of getting my own cheap spin-off show or should I just man up and adapt to a less than perfect situation? I decided to call a friend. Having been through the same thing herself, she told me that no rational decision can ever be made based on emotions. She suggested I take some time out to figure this one out on my own.   

If we observe closely, there is more than enough drama in our own lives than any reality TV has to offer. Sometimes a second opinion is all it takes to get a clear perspective on any given situation and while fifteen minutes is plenty to make a lasting impression, the decision rests entirely in our own hands, not in those of the judges. We all know that Adam Lambert should have won season eight of American Idol which just goes to prove that audiences don't always have the right answers. There's a vast difference between getting a second opinion and allowing someone to dictate what could be right for you. Sometimes we just need a little time to figure out what's best for us without the help of voting lines. 

In matters of the heart, when there's a 50/50 chance of making the right or wrong decision, I couldn't help but wonder...is asking the audience really the safest bet?  

Word of Mouth

Every day, advertisers, marketers and PR companies are going above and below to find new and inventive ways of creating brand awareness for their latest must-have product. From Group-On deals and telesales calls to two for one blue light specials, it’s all about the appeal. No matter how big your budget or how wide your market, it can take years to build up a solid reputation and while massive global brands spare no expense on billboard campaigns and catchy radio jingles, nothing can ever come quite as close as the power of good old fashioned word of mouth.  

Last Friday night, Aiden and I were lured out of our comfort zones and into the blistering cold of Long Street for drinks with some friends at Neighbourhood. Chilli poppers, amazing service and double doses of alcoholic yumminess all for the price of one, why, happy hour couldn't get happier than this. Four long islands and two ginger mojito's later, the conversation went south somewhere below the line. Brenda had started advertising a recent article that she'd come across about ten innovative ways to improve your blow job technique. "Welcome to the Fela-Show starring your Penis!"     

As we discussed points A through J, the male company present concurred with at least six of the ten presented in the publication. The one that stood out like a sore knob was definitely BJ tip number two, a vocal warm up incorporating his golden globes. While most of the boys seemed to be humming a different tune, I was brave enough to admit that the experience, which in itself was far more comical and awkward than anything else, was definitely an epic fail. It was right there and then that Brenda decided to share bonus tip number eleven, the urban legend of blow job tips, a secret taboo guaranteed to make most men squeal with delight. 

Charlotte nearly choked on her bacon popper the moment Brenda began to explain the concept of stinky pinky. "You take a bit of lube without him knowing and you put it on your finger. As you're busy giving him head, caress his balls with the palm of your hand. Keep stroking his penis. Then, when he is least expecting it, you sneak attack your finger into his asshole while jerking down. The trick is to keep sucking, sticking and jerking down at the same time. Suck. Stick. Jerk. Bam! Cum in sixty seconds. Kids. Do not try this at home." Cheque please. 

A day later over at the international house party of fun, I could not seem to escape the subject of oral fixation. The topic had diverted to cunni-linguistics, a language that so many men seem to flunk. "It's the holy grail of oral sex." According to Charlotte, no matter how many "how to" articles you happen to read, a lot of guys just keep doing it wrong. "They can fix cars and electrical gadgets but God forbid you give them a vagina. If only it came with an instruction manual." If only. Penny, a sweet Afrikaans girl who'd once dated a mutual friend of a friend, seemed to agree.  At first she seemed to be rather private about her sexual relations, that is until the gluwein kicked in. "If he kisses badly on the lips then it's almost certain that he has no clue what to do with your clitoris. I know some uitgerekte girls out there like it rough but I am not one of them. A vagina is like a flower; gentle, soft. It's not a buffet. You don't just eat it. It's like Cremora. It's not inside it's on top."

My lecturer once told me that if you look deeper into the advertising slogans of popular brands, nine out of ten times they'll usually point to sex. Whether it's subliminal or sprawled across a two page spread of a glossy magazine, we need to open up in order to find our happy place. Great sex and successful advertising work best the minute you get people talking about it. The more you talk about it the more you know and the more you know the better the chance you have of finding a service that works for both you and your partner.

When it comes to sexual satisfaction, I couldn't help but wonder, is communication, in fact, key?