Objectifying Pig

The end of summer is nearing and one thing has dawned on me; I might actually miss some of the co-workers that are leaving. What else dawns on me, though, is how much of an objectifying pig I am.

You see, I’m truly saddened that one girl, in particular, is leaving because she is stunningly beautiful. She never wears makeup and she’s still far prettier than a fully glossed out super-model. I cannot believe the natural makeup of her complexion, but I’ve never really taken the time to learn a damn thing about her.

I know where she’ll be attending college and I know how old she is, but I couldn’t tell you a thing about her personality, what types of films she enjoys or even her favorite bands. She’s spoken to me numerous times about what she wishes to become in life, but I don’t even remember that!

This isn’t a recent discovery of mine, either. When I look into my past and picture the previous women I “fell” for, I often don’t remember much about them, other than their faces. That might have more to do with age (my highschool crush was almost 7 years ago!), but I’m fairly certain I was a pig back then, too.

Women are something that is foreign in my life. I have a mother (obviously) and an older sister, but neither has ever spoken at length to me about how to listen to other females. I definitely love my mom and often have deep, intelligent conversation with her, but the same cannot be said for my sister. She just exists in my life, as sad as that may be.

Regardless, I’ve never looked at them as only “women.” They’ve been family members, first, and friends second. With others outside of my lineage, though, I find it incredibly difficult to picture them as friends or family! It’s impossible to stop thinking with my libido and start utilizing my mind.

There was one girl with which I did treat as more than a mere object. Her name was Stephanie. I remember wanting to cheer her up one day because I saw her crying. I’m not sure what else my motivation was, but maybe I did truly wish to aid her. Regardless, we became friends and began chatting a bit.

We hung out, saw some movies and even got dinner a few times. It was fairly fun, but my mind was fixated on another girl in our class. I was head over heels for her, but Steph just happened to fall for me. I never even noticed this, seeing as how I’d never really bonded with a woman before.

Regardless of any other details, I probably broke Steph’s heart. I suppose I should have realized something was up when she kissed me on the cheek one night, but the path of conversation we were having just made me believe she was proving a point. I’m an idiot!



Aside from that one example, I can’t think of another woman I’ve treated with respect. Now, don’t think that I go up to women and yell at them or speak in a derogatory tone. I usually just treat them like any other person in my life; if they piss me off, I’m mean and if they’re nice, I respond with kindness. But, I often fail to remember details about them other than looks.

Is this the same for females in games? To me, no. For some reason, I’m able to actually focus on the gameplay more than anything else. While fighting games certainly have their fair share of scantily clad women and I’ve failed at viewing Juliet Starling as anything more than a mere sexual object, I can safely say that other games are different.

In the Uncharted series, Elena and Chloe are simply other people to me. I like Elena a lot for her bravery and aptitude on the battlefield. Chloe I dislike because of how bitchy she is, but I approve of how she’s not characterized as just “woman.”

I often cite Cate Archer from the “No One Lives Forever” series as another strong female role. She and Joanna Dark, from “Perfect Dark,” are women cast in the role of a typical male character. They get a huge arsenal of guns and mow-down baddies just like any other male. Never once do they mention anything about “girl power” or being a woman.

Maybe those last two, though, are because of the perspective. If Perfect Dark were in third person, would I be able to not stare at Joanna? Well, I never did so in “Tomb Raider,” so maybe? I will admit that I like the remodel of Lara Croft from the Crystal Dynamic titles, so I guess that point is moot.



Morrigan Aensland of “Darkstalkers” fame is also another one I let slide. She’s insanely oversexualized, but her character is a succubus. If you saw a succubus wearing non-revealing clothing and being slightly overweight, it really wouldn’t fit into the role of the character. You can play on desire and lack “desirable” qualities.

Then again, maybe that is the whole problem with me. My own fetishes are upheld to such a high standard that when I see someone meet them, I just lose it. I’ve never been attracted to celebrities or models because of how fake they appear on the surface, but I’ve lost my senses to regular women for their realistic beauty.

As I continue to ramble, though, I notice that I still am failing to talk about anyone’s personality. So come next week, when my co-workers leave, I’m not sure what I’ll do. Obviously another person is going to replace my affection, but hopefully I can see past the surface details. I’m not optimistic, though.