I just finished reading an incredibly interesting article from one of my favorite investigative journalistic sites, HuffPost’s Highline. Despite the typically liberal slant of the organization, I was happy to find that they did a rather balanced examination of the material related to Weinstein, Bill Cosby, Larry Nassar, and other exposed predators from the #MeToo movement. By that I mean, rather than simply label all the perpetrators as terrible humans who deserve to rot, Emily Yaffe, the author, researched the roots beneath the abuses.
An investigation like this leads rather quickly to the notion of sexual fetishes and the desire for a very pointed and specific outlet for sexual desires. Research in the article claims that if someone possesses a unique sexual fetish, it is rooted in something that happens in their lives before puberty hits, typically between the ages of 6 and 8.
The author cited examples of men (the number of men with sexual fetishes is roughly four times higher than the number of women) who had a ‘rubber fetish’ due to watching a babysitter wash the dishes with rubber gloves on. Others reported fantasies of acting out scenes from movies or shows they watched frequently as children, even harmless material such as The Andy Griffith Show.
The piece then painfully moved onto the story of a man referred to as Michael. He is a man who is listed as a sexual predator in California. The only difference between him and the ilk of Weinstein is that Michael did not have the same level of power. Michael was arrested eight times for exposing himself on public transport, but the story behind the actions is what is really heart-wrenching.
Michael grew up in the Midwest, a Native American-Black blend in a school full of white children. He entered high school with the full knowledge that no girl wanted to date him because of his heritage. His one ‘sensual’ outlet as a teenager was going to a friend’s house where the mother would walk around scantily clad. And because he enjoyed it so much, he assumed girls would enjoy seeing him like that an equal amount. From there, his propensity toward exhibitionism sprouted until it was a daily routine.
As I read that story, I began to see Michael as more than just a ‘sexual deviant,’ and more as a wayward child seeking intimacy in a twisted way. To be clear: I am not condoning or applauding the behavior of sexual predators or abusers. However, examining the roots of their…(what is the right term now? It changes by the week) psychopathology is fascinating in terms of regarding these men. It helps us see them as fellow fallen humans rather than beasts.
The notion of a fetish is in and of itself a fascinating entity. As stated above, they develop early in life and anyone familiar with elementary psychology knows that things carried over from childhood are very deep indeed. I’ll be frank with you and say that, as I read that article, I kept wondering if I have any sexual fetishes. To the best of my knowledge, the answer is no. In my years as a porn addict, the thing I continually sought more than a specific physical element was simple intimacy. Emotional (and yes, physical) nearness to another person.
To be [really] personal, I still remember a dream I had when I was probably in first or second grade. In the dream, I was at recess at my school and was sitting on the playground next to a girl in my class. I remember the feeling of intimacy toward her, and feel that that longing is something which has followed me for decades. Of course, that desire in and of itself is a good and healthy longing, but the way I go about satisfying that desire can quickly become polluted when pursued down the wrong avenues.
Happy as I am that I personally don’t have any fetishes I’d be embarrassed telling others about, I can certainly sympathize with the notion of bearing the weight of an uncontrollable desire. I’d wager that most of us are familiar with this to some degree, and that’s the part that probably scares us about the entire #MeToo movement. We may think thoughts such as If I had as much power as Harvey, would I have done the same thing? Am I privately acting out in some way, just with less luxurious access?
A song by my favorite metal band, August Burns Red, puts it so perfectly:
I’m just as much the problem as the man behind bars
He did with his business what I do in my heart