WHAT'S YOUR BODY COUNT LADIES?
Credit: @Theimtiredproject
Coming to terms with your numbers.
Hoe, slut, jump-off, easy, hoodrat.... Just a few terms I grew up hearing when it came to identifying girls who were sexually active.
As a "goodie two shoes" I made sure to stay clear from anything that would result in me having a scarlet letter attached to my name. Now that I think about it, it wasn't really hard, since no one was checking for me in high school anyways...le sigh.
I think this all stems from how sex and sexuality was introduced to me.
I come from a single-parent, immigrant, home with a workaholic mama. During my early years, my brother and I were raised by my grandmother. We then graduated to latch-key kids. I've only ever seen my mom hustle to get us what we needed. There were never any complaints but, I knew that if she had a partner, to share the load, it would've been a lot easier.
I love my mom but, I never wanted to be in a situation like that and she knew it. So whenever the topic of boys came up, I always heard the same 4-words, "No sex until marriage". There was never any sex talk, QA, just those four words.
So as the awkward teenager that I was, I became sexually immature and unsure if exploring my sexuality made me a hoe or, refraining from all sexual activity, until adulthood, was the answer.
So now, as an adult, watching celebs like Amber Rose push the "Slut Walk" movement forward, Cardi B embracing her sexually and ex-exotic dancers/sex workers turn into bonafide business women and personal brands... I feel like yelling, "WHERE WERE YOU WHEN I NEEDED YOU!!" Not to say that I was engaged in any of those activities but, whether you like it or not, they were instrumental in showing that they are much more than their past professions or a sexual experiences.
Needless to say, my first time was super weird and I'm not sure what I really could have done to bypass that...I digress.
So after Penis no. 1, I felt grown, sexy and desirable. In hindsight, I was looking for that feeling, more than a connection with my partner (insert daddy issues here). Considering I only had Penis 1 as a reference, I was pleasantly surprised when Penis no. 2 came around and taught me a few thangs...(if you know what I mean.) It was then and there, that I started to think, my body count was already at 2, in such a short timeframe and I didn't want that "hoe card". So I started seeking men, who lived outside of my neighbourhood and clear across the city, so they couldn't get references from their friends or acquaintances about me. Now don't get it twisted, I wasn't poppin' it for just anyone. There was general mutual interest. Yet, in searching for the typical things women look for when seeking a mate, a few more Penis' were added to my dic-rectory.
So there I was, sweating my numbers like, "damn, another smudge on my window". Why was I so concerned? It's not like I was walking up to every person I met and was saying, "Hi. My name is Melissa and I slept with x people. How are you?" No one knew, but me. However, in the back of my mind, it was nagging me.
Sidebar: Someone please explain to me why men can literally insert themselves into any and everything, without batting an eye. Yet, if women had a few RELATIONSHIPS with the opposite sex, we are jump-off's? Someone please explain this to me. I'll wait... We need to stop sipping the judgement juice people!
As I matured, I realized, it ain't nothing but that, a number. Whether your numbers are on only one hand or looks like the lotto, just make sure you're in control. There is nothing wrong in exploring your sexuality and desires with another consenting adult. There is nothing wrong with a "one night stand" as long as it's what you want. I wouldn't make it a habit, but...well, you get what I'm saying.
"What if you had a daughter? Would you be saying the same thing?" I don't have kids, so I may change my mind, however, all I can do is maintain a clear line of communication. Hold open, honest conversations about sex and everything that comes along with it. With that, hope that she's equipped to make sound choices or at least come back to the values I would have instilled.
Moral of the story: Don't live your life according to anyone's rules but your own. It’s you who has to look at yourself in the mirror at the end of the day.
PS. I am a happily married woman...lol
READ: AFTER THE AISLE: ADULTING AFTER MARRIAGE
Photo Credit: The "I'm Tired" Project