Bodycounts and other bullshit

Like most people, I used to have really shitty views about women and sex. And to be honest, there are definitely things I’m still unlearning. One of the most ridiculous things is the idea of how many partners are too many. The answer, for me, wasn’t always as clear as it is today. (for the record, my answer is the same as Lindsay Lohan “the limit does not exist”) I’ll share how my feelings on the matter have developed so we can collectively laugh (and learn too). 

Let’s set the stage.

I never thought of myself as a prude. At no point did I ever think about saving my virginity for marriage. Wasn’t even a consideration. I still remember asking my mom for birth control. It was a sunny summer afternoon when I strolled into her room and asked her for BC as casually as I’d ask if she’d seen my shoes. She was thrown off guard but managed to gain her composure enough to say, “Don’t you want to wait for marriage?”* and I answered “Girl, I’m not going to marry my first so I might as well just get it over with.” 
But as callous as I was about losing my virginity, that practicality and logic did not extend to my feelings about how many partners I should/could have. I left high school having had sex with one person, one time.

Why wasn’t I gettin it poppin’?

I guess some of it was insecurity. Some of my best friends at the time were guys and I heard the way they talked shit about the girls they had sex with. How wack/stiff/boring they were. I could talk a good game but the truth is I didn’t know what I was doing and I HATE not being good at things. I wasn’t confident in my own sexual abilities. I also heard how they talked about girls who had lots of sex. So, I wanted to be strategic about getting experience. I had decided, albeit not consciously, to work within the confines of misogyny to avoid any shame or embarrassment that would come with sex. My plan was to only have sex with people who already “loved” me or at least pretended to. It was a bit of a safety net for me because if I wasn’t good (I wasn’t) then they would be nice about it (they weren’t). And the bonus? No one could call me a hoe. The gag is, my partners were bad at sex too, they didn’t really love me and they definitely still talked shit. My plan royally backfired. A couple bodies down, still not actually better at sex.

As time went on, I had this ludicrous idea that it would be “special” to give my husband the gift of a low body count. (Girl, I know 🙄) 4 was the magic number. Enough to be experienced but not too many. I made bodies 3 and 4 count but I had more learning to do. And person number 4 was definitely not going to be my husband. 

What was I going to do? 

On one shoulder I had a devil telling me I needed to be a sexual goddess and on the other I was trying to manage this idea of modesty in the form of a low body count. I believed that my worth as a woman was tied to my ability to satisfy men and also resist them. What a goddamn distraction. I was so busy managing others’ expectations, I didn’t even stop to think about what I felt about my relationship with my sexuality. I had to stop giving a fuck about arbitrary rules about sex. I had to learn that these “rules” were created by men, likely white men as a means of control and exercising power. And enforced by insecure men with minuscule egos.

Which brings us to now. Today, I am a lot more open, a lot less precious about the whole matter. The only thing I regret is not having more sex with more people. I missed my hoe phase for no ass reason. And, I only say “missed” because we’re in quarantine and it’s looking slow for new partners. The thought of me forgoing freaky shit for the sake of a fictitious husband who has yet to make himself known, or somebody’s dusty ass son, makes me cringe. I cared about the opinion of men I wouldn’t fuck with someone else’s pussy. How goofy.

Now, that I’ve written my about my mortifying evolution, I hope you can unpack the way you feel about your own sexuality and value. Learn from me. Get some dick while you can.

*in defense of my mother, I don’t think she actually wanted me to wait until marriage but was shocked her baby was about to start having sex.