Our Culture Isn’t ‘Dying For Sex,’ But Our Faulty Approach Is Killing Us
Five years ago, Michelle Williams made headlines when she proudly revealed that her professional success was thanks to her ability to abort her children. Now, she’s back in the headlines letting everyone know she still has no idea what true female empowerment is.
Williams has been on a press tour for the FX/Hulu miniseries Dying for Sex, in which she stars as a terminally ill woman and also serves as an executive producer. In the series, which was released this week, Williams’ character leaves her 10-year marriage on a mission to explore various sexual fetishes before she dies.
In fairness, I haven’t watched the series; read a more detailed summary of what Williams calls her character’s “sexcapades” and you’ll understand why. And it’s low-hanging fruit, as cultural commentary goes, to point out that leaving your husband — one who has faithfully walked through illness with you, no less — for kinks with strangers is a bad decision that’s unlikely to bring much deathbed comfort.
But there’s more going on here, and Williams’ comments about the show are revealing, as is the reaction from entertainment media.
Of Molly Kochan, the real-life woman on whose tragic story the show is loosely based, Williams told Harper’s Bazaar:
With her terminal diagnosis, the marriage that she built, the life that she built, she knocked it all down and kept one thing – her best friend. And I think that kind of bravery to say: ‘This is what I’m going to do with my time and my energy and my body. It all belongs to me, and I’m going to use it in exactly the way that I want to, no matter what anybody thinks of me or says about me’ is so brave.’
I won’t criticize the dead here — I don’t know Molly’s story, just Williams’ version of it — but no, it’s not brave to declare that your wants are the only thing that matters to you. If it were, we would be writing profiles in courage about 2-year-olds.
Just in case the self-centered element of the plot wasn’t belabored enough, Williams says that watching the characters “explore themselves” provided “an opportunity for self-growth and ultimately, self-love and self-expression.”
Most people will probably not pursue “self-love” to the bizarre and graphic extent that Williams’ character does. But the implicit assumption — that our responsibilities and obligations to other people are a burden that infringes on our true life’s work of satisfying ourselves — is everywhere in our society.
Just look at how much more common the words “self-love” and “self-care” have become in our discourse, according to the Google Books Ngram tool:

As material luxury made us less reliant on each other’s sacrifices for survival, we stopped looking to mutual sacrifice for happiness, too. Nowhere is that more evident than in Williams’ own willingness to value career awards above her unborn children.
This same mentality leads us to separate the pleasure of sex from the rewarding and mutually sacrificial relationship it is designed to accompany. No strings or lifelong vows attached! Why commit to loving another person unconditionally when you can just use the “neighbor guy,” as Williams’ character does, to meet your needs?
It’s a lie, of course, that sexual pleasure can be completely divorced from sexual purpose. Every abortion is a violent attempt to preserve that lie.
But the irony is, such a divorce produces less pleasure, and apparently, less sex. Just look at all the headlines declaring that young people aren’t doing it as much as they used to. The conscious uncoupling of sex and its intended context has also produced fewer babies — so if anything is “dying,” it’s the future of your bloodline.
No one knows the number of their days. If Dying for Sex has any redemptive qualities, it’s probably the obvious message that we will all eventually die and should live each day with the intentionality that comes with remembering it could be our last.
But the lie it offers in response assumes that if we truly lived by the “live each day as if it’s your last” mindset, we would and even should choose to indulge selfish and sometimes perverse desires. Portraying the behavior of Williams’ character as inspiring to women is a pretty debased construction of “female empowerment,” as if the true desire of every woman is to act in ways that are fundamentally selfish, irresponsible, and gross.
Alternatively, living a life of mutual commitment, sacrifice, and love is pretty empowering. Maybe Williams should take a break from acting and have another baby with her husband.
Elle Purnell is the elections editor at The Federalist. Her work has been featured by Fox Business, RealClearPolitics, the Tampa Bay Times, and the Independent Women’s Forum. She received her B.A. in government from Patrick Henry College with a minor in journalism. Follow her on Twitter @_ellepurnell.
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