Open Legs, Open Mind

I’m going to be blunt: I love sex.

If it was socially acceptable to list it as my favorite hobby on OkCupid, I would.

But unfortunately we still live in a society where being a woman and enjoying sex is taboo. If you want sex, you’re a whore. If you openly discuss sex, you’re crass. There’s really no winning with the societal expectations we have placed on women when it comes to horizontal tango.

As a twenty-year-old, consenting adult who has control over her own body and life, I’m finished living in a society that dictates my sex life. At parties, on dates, at work, with my dad and my friends and even complete strangers I have made my sex life completely accessible. Maybe I’m too open. Maybe I’m too candid. But sex shouldn’t be some shameful secret. It’s literally the whole reason the world exists. Nature gifted me a vagina for a reason, and I’m going to use it.

This is my way of retaliating against these boundaries that some higher societal being has boxed us women into. There’s nothing wrong with liking, loving, desiring, or even yearning for sex. It’s a natural instinct. We can’t control it, the same way men and animals and insects hunt for a viable reproducing mate. We might not have the same genitalia as our male counterparts, but it doesn’t mean that we don’t want sex just as much as they do.

There’s nothing wrong with being conservative, with concealing your sex life, or keeping these precious moments private if that’s your decision. But by constantly keeping quiet, pretending that we’re something we’re not, and suppressing our urges because society tells us to forces us into chastity chains that need to be eradicated.

That’s why I love to talk about sex almost as much as I love to have it.

Sex brings people together. Not just two intimate partners, but us as a community. We turn to friends when we want someone to relate our sexual mishaps to. We collectively fight against rape culture. We support survivors of domestic abuse. We laugh at sexual innuendos and double entendres in movies and television. We read erotic fiction. We obsess over Marvin Gaye songs.   We take DeCals that allow us to ask our deepest and darkest questions about sexy time. We have established BDSM communities where public play is appreciated. We celebrate sex when we run into our counterparts on our respective Strides of Pride. Despite contrary belief, sex is not always an act between two (or more, if you’re into that kind of thing) people, it’s a strangely communal activity.

I participate in many of these communities and I could not be prouder of the love, support, and acceptance that these groups foster. But the fight for sexual acceptance is far from the finish line. This is a marathon and we’re at the tenth mile.

It’s time to express our sexuality without borders, without limitations, without judgment. Fuck nobody or fuck everybody (consensually, of course). Masturbate. Buy a vibrator or a fleshlight. Explore yourself. Explore your partners. Explore the essence of being human. Orgasm. Call a vagina by it’s name; not pussy, not female genitalia, “down there,” nor “lady parts.” Same for penises. Claim yourself. Love yourself. Make Hailee Steinfeld proud. But no matter what you do, be unapologetic about it. Go confidently into the world of sex. Don’t fret or fear or be afraid. Sex is sex is sex. Be comfortable in your body because it’s yours and nobody else can fuck like you.

It’s time to love sex.

It’s time to embrace it.

It’s time to stop saying cowering behind apologies all the goddamn time.

About a month ago, the “fuck buddy” I had been with for a little over a month decided that he didn’t want to hook up anymore. It was because I asked him for sex too much, I convinced myself. It was a three day weekend and I hadn’t seen him in a while because I was too busy. We hooked up one day. I texted him the next day, and the day after that. That’s when I got the text that forced me to revisit every encounter-turned-sour I had with men. He didn’t want to see me anymore. I spent the next day wondering what I did wrong, besides ask him for sex one too many times.

I felt ashamed. I felt embarrassed. I felt apologetic. And for what reason? Because I had needs? Because I was a human who craved affection and touch? It was at this moment I realized that every time I had, wanted, or asked for sex, I apologized. When things went wrong, I was always the one who was sorry. I can’t help it that I have a high sex drive. I can’t help that I am a woman and I fucking love to fuck.

Ever since then, I decided to stop apologizing. I, and every other woman out there, have absolutely no reason to apologize for biological cravings. I vow never to say sorry again.

This is me being unapologetic for loving sex. And I invite you to do the same.

Cover Image: Akiko Photography, Creative Commons Licensing