Sexual emancipation

Oh so Slutty

Somewhere along the line we decided only women who had experienced some sort of trauma or difficulty in Life could enjoy sex.  Daddy issues, molestation, underlying hatred for their mothers and a need for attention were all reasons why a woman may choose to “act out” sexually [and by “act out” I mean own her sexuality].  The idea was sold and bought by many. 

I used to run to “Daddy issues” when asked about my rather colourful sexual history. It wasn’t enough to say “I have sex with people because I want to”, it didn’t sit well with me either, at a time when I was afraid to be shamed and was only accepting of myself when alone. I had the confidence to have sex but not enough to wear my sexual freedom proudly. At the end of the day, when questioned about it, it always seemed easier and less shameful to play the victim. To seem helpless instead of admitting that I had simply done what I wanted to do.

As I’ve grown I’ve met a lot of women just like me. 

Women I’d share glasses of wine and sob stories with.

“My father was never home so that’s why I have sex with a lot of men. I need acceptance from a male figure. Any male figure.”

“My father cheated on my mother so I could never be faithful.  I’m doing to men what he did to her.”

“I don’t have a father so fuck men.. I’ll treat them how I want.”

And it all makes sense on some level, but for how long?

 

Eventually I had to realize that I couldn’t continue to blame my father for my actions/desires. I was too old and too intelligent for that. After a while playing the victim became redundant and I could not claim to be strong, responsible and in control if I couldn’t even own and admit to the things I did/wanted to do. 

The process of truly owning your sexuality isn’t a flawless one. It isn’t swift either. It involves dispelling myths and unlearning a lot of shame that has been instilled in us as we grow and that is hardly ever easy.  You have to know WHY you think as you do, what it means for your actions and behaviour and how to proceed from there. 

We can’t all be Samantha Jones, and I doubt even she was Samantha Jones from the very moment she became sexually active. It takes a lot for the average woman to say “I fuck because I want to and fuck you if you have an issue.” The society we find ourselves in isn’t often accepting of that. You’ll be called all sorts of names, often. You’ll be disrespected often. You’ll get “Who touched you?” more than you’d like to and a lot of people will look at you as an anomaly. 

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To be a proud, sexually emancipated woman often leaves one lonely.

Other women may not want to interact with you because they, in their repressed state, believe you’re a Sex Demon from Hell sent forth to test their relationships. 

Men will treat you like an accessible porn star.

And both groups will, to a certain degree, shun you.

Because in this society, a woman who enjoys her sexuality is defined by it. She becomes it in people’s eyes. 

She is a walking, talking vagina.

A creature that does more fucking than living.

Jezebel.

A nymph. 

And knowing this, I understand why many choose to be seen as weak individuals who’re ran by their insecurities and fears instead of simply a woman who likes to have sex.

When they think you can’t help it, society is a tad bit more forgiving. The insults less creative. They’ll call you a silly slut but maybe, in your mind, the “silly” before the “slut” shows some kind of compassion. 

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Understand that the same people making you feel ashamed of your desires really add nothing to your Life, so why let them take?

I can tell you this, I’ve never been broken or truly hurt in any way by the name calling.  

They are words.

Words spoken by people who lack the emotional maturity and intelligence to understand “choice” and “desire”.

Words by people who don’t respect you.

So why is their opinion relevant?

Why  are you letting their tiny brains dictate and keep you from your joy?

Fuck them. 

Fuck them all, honey. 

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My Milkshake, My Instinct and my Yard

I adore seduction. There’s a certain intensity when it comes to interacting with someone you want to sleep with and yet haven’t, that’s unparalleled. At that point in time, you’re your most alert, your most charming, and they are too. It’s an electric time where the simple lingering touch of another’s hand or a look with a coy smile could provide more satisfaction than an actual kiss at that moment. I love the suspense, the charm, the sheer brilliance of the simplest of moments.

The romance with the blatant sexuality. 

I always say I have no idea how to flirt. In actual fact, I’m not really sure HOW I attract people, I like to think I give off a certain Angelina Jolie-esque smoldering gaze but I could be wrong. For all I know, when I’m being truly honest with myself, my seduction process is basically me squinting a lot as I turn my head to look interested and drop a lot of sexual innuendo in conversation. Tell me that’s not brilliant..

I find I prefer to seduce rather than attain [in the relationship sense]. To be fairly honest, most of my sexual conquests are out of sheer curiosity. I meet people and wonder what they look like when they cum, how their hands may feel, what they might like or want to try, and based on that, I pursue them. It’s more about satisfying my curiosity than actual lust.

There are lovers who are wide eyed when they brush their fingers against your lower lip and you suck them. Those who are pleasantly surprised when you’re the one slipping their hands into your pants and those who simply want you to pretend to make love to them.  Lovers who tentatively traipse into bed with you, with hidden desires and fears, expecting the same routine only for you to show them that it’s okay to be free. To help them explore that side of themselves, even if it’s only for one night, as it usually is.

And sometimes, rarely, but sometimes, it worries me that I sample people in bed the way one might try exotic dishes. 

After one such encounter recently with a friend, he began to avoid me and when I confronted him about it, he said it’s because he thought I might expect more from him. Truth be told I got a healthy, hearty laugh from that one and had to sit him down to explain that no, in fact, I expect nothing more from him and as far as I’m concerned, it didn’t really happen and no, it isn’t such a big deal. Besides, he has a girlfriend who I consider beneath me so dating me, God forbid, would probably wreck his brain. 

He was confused, still is, and is currently convinced that there must be something wrong with someone who isn’t seeking anything from anyone else in that way.  It’s odd to him that no, I don’t want to be loved romantically, nor do I really need an orgasm most times. 

I could simply be looking for experiences and nothing more. This could just be a phase. 

And if it isn’t, I could be Sharon Stone’s character in  Basic Instinct, in the making.

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