It's Tuesday Night, Baby, And I'm Alive

So, over the weekend I posted some pictures of myself in a short skirt and tall boots and effectively got called a slut for it?

First of all, slut shaming is the last resort of the ignorant, and so weak. I have every right to sleep with as many or as few people as I want, as does every consenting adult on Earth.

But that particular accusation really pisses me off, because I've also been effectively called a prude before, by so-called "friends" of mine, too.

Why are people so concerned about my sex life?

I would like to set the record straight about a few things, because I'm not ashamed.

Number one, I once went two years without sex, in my twenties, by choice. I needed some time to heal from a bad relationship, and it was the best thing I ever did for myself. I learned how to be a grown woman without a boyfriend, and it was spectacular. I had the time of my life. I occasionally got lonely, but for the most part it was great and I don't regret it.

Number two, I have never cheated in a relationship, even when I was, frankly, well within my rights to do so. 

Number three, I could go out right now and get laid if I really wanted to. According to Tinder that time I paid for "gold level" or whatever so I could see everyone who swiped right on me, there are over 2,000 men within a 25 mile radius of me at this moment who are theoretically interested in meeting me. Out of those men, I met three in person. Out of those three, I kissed exactly zero. I don't judge people who live their life differently from me, it takes all kinds to make the world go 'round, but I have to be feeling pretty god-blessed magical with someone to make out with them the first time I meet them.

I can count everyone I've ever slept with on ONE hand. I can also give myself multiple orgasms with ONE hand. Do you see what I'm getting at here? I'm all set. I don't need to throw myself at anyone or meet a bunch of randoms on an app to get where I need to go. I've had more than one fake-ass friend basically yell at me for sleeping with so few people and get really weirded out that I'm the age I am and that I prefer to be selective when it comes to sex partners. Like, they've insisted on trying to push dudes at me because they're horrified by my sex life. I don't need your hand-outs or hand-me-downs. I'm FINE.

I'm not uptight in bed. I wasn't brought up religious. I found my own way to God because life in this hologram was pretty unfulfilling on the surface, and I needed more. I wasn't taught anything more than to love myself and that I don't need a man to complete my life. I choose to live my life the way I do because I like it. I like to love or at least feel that I could or am well on my way to loving a person that I'm with. I don't like boning strangers who mean nothing to me. Some people do, I don't. My goals for my romantic life are to find someone to give my heart to, and for them to accept it and give me theirs in return. It's out-dated and provincial, but that's what I want.

And yeah, I posted pictures of myself looking good. I'm pushing 40, I didn't think I'd ever have occasion to dress like that again in my life. I barely ever dressed like that even twenty years ago. So when I did a play and wore those clothes as a costume, I enjoyed it because who knows how many more times I'll get the chance? I didn't wear those clothes outside of the theater. It would have been fine if I did, because there's nothing wrong with that. I looked slammin' in them, frankly.

Did I receive a text or two from dudes I know after posting them? Of course I did, it's called life after puberty, and it has nothing to do with anything other than those dudes and their choices. It didn't go anywhere, and even if it had, who cares?

If me posting a picture of myself looking sexy as hell is enough to give someone a nervous breakdown and assume that I'm running all over town hooking up with people, then I would like to know where you got your time machine, and if I can come along to explore life in 1952 with you sometime. Because the idea that I would suddenly transform into a completely different soul just because of some clothing on the outside of my body is truly ridiculous.

I just wanted to share this here, because for some reason, lately I seem to be attracting people who get really threatened by me just being myself somewhere in their vicinity. Frankly, it's disappointing.

Luckily, I've decided to stop doubting myself for this next chapter of my life, and the duration. I take care of myself, I did a play because it made me happy, and I shared pictures of myself looking hot because I wanted to. Plain and simple. The love in my heart that I have to give is still pure and devoted by its very nature, and one day I'll meet someone I want to give it to who can handle that, and reciprocate.

In the meantime, hold onto your smelling salts or stay the hell out of my way while I live my life.



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