Monkey Sex and the Pill: Or Why Being Pregnant is OK, but a Horndog? Not so Much

I've been thinking for a month and a half about monkey sex. In between, I managed to land in the Caribbean, pregnant in a bikini, and in Saskatchewan - known for its proliferation of abstinence believing religious types. In other words, I've abandoned this blog for two extremes - the sexy heat and the frigid cold - all the while proudly brandishing my own bulging badge of my nighttime activities. People stared at me more or less in a friendly way on the beach, while my parents were overjoyed. Overjoyed? It's not logical.

I just can't seem to reconcile the two versions of myself - asexual Maria and bare-all bikini momma. For my entire life, I've hidden my horndog self underneath my veiled pubes, but now it's acceptable to blare to the entire public that I had sex and didn't use protection? Now if my badge stated in scarlet letters "Chlamydia" I'm sure that all those kind people on the plane wouldn't have let me go to the bathroom before them.

This brings me back to monkey sex as a societal prophylactic. Or to be more precise, chimpanzee sex of the bonobo variety as a solution to my conflicted state (and in my dream-world the solution to many if not all societal ills). Let's solve conflicts in society by doing the bonobo handshake. Whip out your pink bits, wave them about and get friendly with your neighbour! In comparison with the patriarchal, territorial, and violent social structure of our other closest genetic relative, the common chimp (pan troglodytes), the matriarchal free-love society of the bonoba (Pan paniscus) resembles paradise.

I'm very much of the opinion that we overdeveloped our commonalities with troglodytes and underdeveloped the paniscus within. The privilege of property and its phallic representative has seduced us into wanting to own everything. Is the fear of the sexual female in every culture really a fear of sharing?

Being pregnant is really like sitting on a fence with two ears to the ground. The paradox of being a woman is playing out on my body - it screams the pleasure and the power of being female. It's no wonder that some women experience abuse from their partners for the first time or are suddenly rejected as sexual objects. This bulging badge is evidence of an alternative and it's scary.

It's also joyous and a call for others to want to share that experience with you. It's the friend, who just can't resist rubbing your belly.