My friend from NYC, Roman, was telling me about a girl from his past and abruptly stopped to ask me the question, “This isn’t going to go on your blog, is it?” I promised I wouldn’t, and I won’t.
BUT it did get me thinking about my life as a blogger. My family is concerned about my safety. My friends worry about my sanity. Acquaintances are intrigued but standoffish. And my lovers or potentials… well… they rather I keep it between the sheets.
On Monday I had, let’s call it a date, with a gentleman, Caesar, I had met at a party. At this party I had remained classy — up until the Jack Daniels poured through my liver like a over-saturated sponge. Then my mouth got the better of me and my true freak flag flew. Most of our conversation consisted of our past sexual deviant behavior.
This is a conversation I have often. And like most of these conversations I realize that I’m not the biggest freak out there, not even close, just the most outspoken. It’s my blog, my mouth, and the persona I project that makes people believe I’m dirty whore.
Roman (that’s NYC, try to follow along) has probably the largest collection of dirty pictures of anyone I know. He has been collecting for over a decade. I know this because I was one of if not the first girl to send him nude photos. That’s right mathletes, he has pictures of me when I was 15. And 16. And 17. Etc, etc. He’s into S & M, actively pursues clubs and venues that offer similar activities, and really loves anything that most people would consider fucked up.
Caesar is just as sexually fucked up. He’s notorious for being the party; bringing cocaine and being surrounded by beautiful woman. He loves to eat ass, fuck in public, and have multiple partners at the same time.
Now knowing this and hearing what each of these guys said to me this week blew my mind. Roman has a problem with girls that have slept with a lot of dudes. Yes, the guy that still has kiddie porn on this computer from 1999 has issues with promiscuous girls. Despite his own sexual conquest and pursues of sickly pleasure, he wants a good girl that’s down for dirty fun.
When speaking to Caesar about my blog and its relation to my own reality, I told him that while some entries are based on things that have happen, they are exaggerations of the truth or complete fabrications. His response? “Oh, that makes me feel better.” I wished I had lied and told him the personal stuff is too gross for the internet.
My oldest girlfriend is married and pregnant. My closest girlfriend has a kid and is engaged. Both of these girls has slept the same to three times the men I have. Their male counterparts love them, and rightfully so. They have breed with these ladies and have decided to spend the rest of their lives together. I won’t be as lucky.
It’s hard to date a girl who openly expresses her sexuality. It’s hard, I guess, since men are possessive and like to think that their girl is only theirs, always has, always will. But that’s simply not true nowadays. With books like 50 Shades on the summer’s best seller list and nude models on billboards stretching over Sunset Boulevard, female sexuality is at an all time tipping point.
We will be classy but give blow jobs. We will be virgins but know what to do. We walk that fine line between wife and hooker. Because only women could be given impossible tasks like these and do them well. Weaker sex my ass.
Maybe it’s just part of who I am. After all, I started masturbating at 4, became an exhibitionist at 15, and continued my journey into erotic fiction writing at 23. Maybe it’s because I have issues, like the attention, or maybe I’m just a really stupid girl. But I can’t help but feel proud of who I have become in reference to my sexuality. I don’t hide behind lies and secrets. I don’t pretend to not want something for the sake of my reputation. And I sure as hell live the same lifestyle as any male my age.
Sex for women is a double edge sword. We can’t do too much or too little of anything. We are held to a standard that is almost impossible to maintain for a lifetime. We are given Barbie with the perfect body that’s not physically attainable unless you’re plastic. We are told to be independent and pursue our dreams, but to make sure we are married and have kids before our biological clock rings. And American women have it the easiest.
“According to New York Times reporter Nicholas D. Kristof, acid attacks are at an all time high in Pakistan and increasing every year. The Pakistani attacks he describes are typically the work of husbands against their wives who have “dishonored them”.
According to a Rand Corporation commentary, hundreds of women in Pakistan and Afghanistan have been blinded or maimed “when acid was thrown on their unveiled faces by male fanatics who considered them improperly dressed.”
Acid attacks. Here I am worried about being called a dirty whore.
“A slut is like the first piece of bread in a loaf, everyone touches it, but nobody wants it. “