I stared at Elise as tears ran down her face. Her black mascara was smudged underneath her eyes and slowly dripping down her cheeks.
“Why doesn’t he respond to my messages anymore?” she howled.
Elise and I only knew each other for a week. We were introduced by a mutual friend who thought we would get along since we were both new to the city. She asked me to lunch one afternoon, and we sat there at the table while she cried about her recent dating disaster.
I tried hard to think of the best way to console someone I only met twice.
“Well, I think you should move on and have sex with someone else. Just get the pain and sadness and depression fucked out of you by some hot guy,” I suggested. It was honest advice.
Personally, I believe that casual sex is the best way to mend a broken heart. After all my breakups (and my divorce), I fucked myself silly with a slew of strangers. Some I continued to date for a few weeks. But most of them I didn’t ever see again.
Her jaw dropped as she glared at me.
“Uhm. I’m not a slut. I’m not that kind of girl,” she stated.
As we parted ways, I couldn’t help but feel like I was being judged. The tone in her voice. The stare in her eyes. The words that came out of her mouth.
I’m not that kind of girl.
What does that even mean? What kind of girl? The type of girl that’s comfortable have sex? The type of girl who is choosing to do something with her body that’s her own choice?
And on top of that, was she calling me a slut?
I know that we all have different views when it comes to sex. Some of us need to wait for the right moment and the right person. While others treat sex like food — our bodies crave it, so let’s indulge.
And there’s nothing wrong with either belief.
You see, I love having casual sex. Period. But guess what? I don’t mind if you don’t! Because I don’t judge you for whatever decision you make about your body. And in return, you shouldn’t judge me for mine.
But, Elise honey — you think you are holier than thou because you hold out on sex for three dates?
I don’t think so.
I know it’s a girl-eat-girl world out there.
Women are practically hard-wired to judge and be jealous of other women.
Maybe it’s from growing up reading Cosmo. Or perhaps it’s staying up past our bedtime to watch the Victoria Secret Fashion Show. Maybe it goes back to our school days, where we wanted to dress and act exactly like Becky from the cheer squad.
Whatever the reason, we’ve grown up with the need to compete with each other.
And the easiest way to win the battle is by making the other person feel bad. So, we make snarky comments and pretend that we’re better than they are.
And that’s exactly what Elise did.
Sure, her intention was probably not to piss off her only new friend in town (good luck finding that good Italian place I told you about).
But she put me — and all other women who enjoy casual sex — in a bucket of shame. She lumped us into a category of people who have defied the image of what society said we should look like.
She called us sluts.
I wanted to slap Elise across her mascara-dripping face and yell, “It’s not okay to judge women for their choices! Bad Elise!”
But I sadly let that opportunity slip by.
So instead, I have a message for all the women out there.
It’s okay to sleep with someone on the first date. It’s okay to watch porn and have kinks and fetishes. It’s okay to tell dirty jokes and give blow jobs and like anal sex and have many many many sexual partners.
And it’s also okay to do none of those things.
Do you know why?
Because it’s okay to do whatever you want with your body.
Having one-nights and casual sex is nothing to be ashamed of. So don’t be. And don’t let the Elises of the world tell you anything otherwise.
You are not a slut.
You are just you. Beautiful, beautiful you.