Casual Sex
I just received an email from a friend about my latest post. She asked if I thought listing 'casual sex' on my dating profile is the reason I get so many more messages than she does.
The short answer is: absolutely.
She wanted to know if I thought this change negatively affects the quality of men who contact me, or the quality of experience I have with the men who do.
The short answer is: surprisingly, no.
In my rush to segue into my review, I'd left something crucial from my post:
Listing casual sex on my profile is one of the best dating-related choices I've ever made.
Here's why:
- I get a lot of practice saying no.
I used to suck at saying no. I was afraid of conflict and I worried too much about the hurt feelings I wasn't responsible for creating. I was afraid to let people ask me for things because that meant I'd have to say yes.
But now? I say no all the time. I say no with explanation, and without. I say no kindly, firmly, and with an iron fist. I say no by not saying anything at all. I have become a World-Renowned Expert on Saying No.
This is a really important skill.
- I own my sexuality.
I used to cry when men leered at me on the street. It felt like an invasion, or an attack. I didn't know it was okay to ignore them, to say 'fuck off', to say 'thank you', to talk with them awhile if I wanted to.
I didn't know I could sleep with one man on our first date, then date another for a month without kissing. I didn't know I could turn down dates, could initiate dates, could end dates early or extend them through the next day. I didn't know I could choose what I count as sex and what I don't. I didn't know I could talk about it, or not talk about it, or talk about it and then stop.
I saw my sexuality as a public resource, one tugged and twisted by billboards and barflies, ex-boyfriends and well-meaning friends. I saw it as an enemy or a captor. Now I see it for what it is: mine.
- I made connections.
I had a one-night stand that I treasure. I had a weekend fling that changed my life. I made new friends; I lost friends I didn't need. I moved on and up and through.
Not one of these experiences was shallow or empty or cold. I've grown as much in the past month as I had in the six months before it. I feel stronger, braver, and more loving.
- I learned the difference between love and need.
So much of relationships is about ego, about fear, about exchanging your freedom for the right to hold someone down. When I first began my foray into casual sex, several friends worried: "But what if you fall in love?"
I don't think I've ever loved someone who didn't love me back. I've been addicted to people who didn't love me. I've been obsessed with people who didn't love me. I've wanted to own people who didn't love me; wanted them to choose me, to validate me, to stroke my ego the way they had before.
But that kind of attachment is something we can learn to release. Open your fist and let it go.
It's not easy, but it's brave and it's the only way to ever love with as pure a heart as you were born with in your chest.
- I'm more confident.
I went on lots of dates in high school, but I didn't have my first kiss until I was 20. It wasn't a moral stance; I was petrified. I was referred to as 'asexual' by more than one well-meaning friend and the reason was simple: I believed the #1 Goal of Dating was to never let anyone know you liked them.
I didn't know how to flirt. I didn't know how to be assertive. The thought of making out baffled and scared me. At age 20, I finally learned the ropes of a goodnight kiss, but throughout my 20's I was benched by periods of unintended celibacy (always after a break-up) during which I'd forget how to kiss all over again. I'd wring my hands at the end of a date, leaping from the car before it had come to a stop in my drive.
Now I kiss first. I ask. I communicate my needs. I don't commit before I'm ready, or settle for less than I deserve. I say yes, and no, and maybe. I believe in myself, and my worth. I accept yes, and no, and maybe.
It was a political act, in some ways. I did a search one day on OkCupid, just to see the stats-- within my age range and location, 67 men listed 'casual sex' on their profile. For women of the same age and location? There were only 8. And I have it on good authority that at least one of them expects payment for her goods*.
Eight women.
I know women who are open to casual sex, but would never list it on their profile, for fear of shame or judgment or an avalanche of creepy notes. As for the first two reasons, I say fuck 'em. As for the last one, I say post 'em on twitter.
That's what I do anyway.
* I support sex work as a choice. My intention in this line is to distinguish the advertisement of a paid service from the search for a relationship (even a very, very short one).
