If my penis was a guy I wouldn’t be his friend
My penis is impulsive, fickle, changes his mind at the drop of a hat and has far too much sway over important decisions. He’s the kind of guy you wouldn’t have time for after a few of his drunken rants – particularly when they all end up on the same topic. He’s the childhood friend you’ve known for too long, who hasn’t changed a bit and doesn’t care to be embarrassed by it.
We’ve been together from the start, and he had some pretty cool ideas when we first met. He was charming, persuasive and very persistent in his ideas and how important they were to him. For a long time he was a trusted confidant with a direct line to the boss. To be honest, he still makes spur of the moment calls on the hotline from time to time.
I think most men have a similar relationship to their dick. It’s taken a while for me to recognise and categorise the choices that he encourages me to make and develop strategies to respond in a meaningful way. Masturbating stifles the conversation for a while, but he always returns after a moments rest to inject himself into the latest sexual conundrum I face. Understanding this cycle of influence is important in being able to make objective decisions about a range of topics. It’s alarming to realise how much sway sex has over seemingly everyday decisions. From gawking at girls while driving my car to truly believing that random strangers are sexually viable choices, the little fella definitely continues to make himself known.
The elements of male sex drive that are most problematic are the fact that it’s continual. It’s not a switch, it’s not a choice. I think most men have a varying baseline level of sexual interest and attraction in their chosen partners, but for me it’s a constant low level subconscious mental commentary. My lizard brain is painfully aware of every piece of exposed flesh that moves through my eye line. This applies to most sexually viable women. Once my visual identification system (read: eyes) acquires a target (read: women) that fit a predetermined evolutionarily attractive criteria (i.e hips, bums, breasts, shiny hair, waists, etc) there is a compelling desire to store that image away in memory. This is a truly subconscious exercise, a resting state. Doing nothing means to do this.
This alarmingly continual process has led to a lot of feedback loops in our modern world that can be destructive. Instagram for one provides content based on content you have previously looked at. The rise of fitness Instagram’s is intrinsically linked to this process. The abundance of healthy, sexually attractive women that are placed in your eye line increases with every profile you visit, sharpening the explore page into an all consuming attention sink that’s appealing to a base function of your lizard brain.
I’ve probably seen more sexually viable women in my life than all my ancestors put together, thanks to the internet. My lizard brain isn’t smart enough to determine that the images that I see on a screen aren’t real. I’m not sure how we will evolve around this error in our genetic programming, as our brain thinks we are doing exactly as we should. My lizard brain thinks I’m a stud. And that’s a problem.