Two Men in One Weekend (Gulp)
Loving mom,dedicated friend,
Had sex with two different men in one weekend,
Devoted her life to worrying about it.
But now that a few days had past since last weekend’s promiscuity, my mind was at war with itself and my body. Why the heck did I call it “promiscuity” anyway? I hated that word. It was so judgmental and, well, limiting. Why couldn’t I think of it as “sexual exploration”? Yes, that sounded way more empowering.
Where had this shrill, paranoid voice inside my head come from? Was it high school? Man, I perseverate! I thought back 23 years to that crazy self-defining time when I heard whispered rumors about “so and so” being a slut. Talk was vicious and spread like wildfire. No one had a clue how to keep a secret at that age, and once a girl was labelled, she was marked for good.
High school may have acted as a launch pad for my beliefs, but they were most certainly reinforced and drilled home afterward. In university, the workplace, the neighbourhood, bars, sometimes even family gatherings, talk about “some woman” was bound to get cheap. It still did.
I’d naively assumed that the popularity of TV shows like Sex in the City and Desperate Housewives indicated that times had changed, that women could be seen as respectable and moral and sexual beings. But on closer look, that’s really wasn’t the case at all, was it? We still held our breaths when our favourite characters fell into bed with yet another man. They could only make so many mistakes. We still judged their actions: warranted? Or inexcusably whorish? (Read whole article on Huff Post here)