Slut-shaming, fuck-zoning and the universal cuteness of the male brain

I used to feel dirty just thinking about it. The mere sound of the word would cause my blood to boil and my face to light up like a traffic light. I would evade the questions, fake nonchalance and finally, when I could take no more, admit to having very limited interest in the topic. It was easier that way, safer. And it guaranteed me the element of surprise. Because what woman doesn’t like to bring the good news in person?

Now, years later, my physical response is much more limited. At least on the surface. I don’t blush any more, and I certainly know how to answer a question without giving out too much, all the while making it clear that I am no rookie. Long gone is the quiet chubby girl who couldn’t watch a sex scene in a company without feeling oh-so-small.

What am I talking about? Simple: being a slut. It was never my intention to become a slut, just as I never planned on being a bitch when guys first started calling me an Ice Queen. But that one stuck and I grew up to like the tough ass act. Same with being a slut – most guys I’ve been with would tell you I exceeded their expectations, some by a long shot. It takes practice to perform at that level; and I’m not ashamed to admit I like practicing.

Now, do I have it tattooed on my forehead? Do I wear short skirts and high heels? Do I solicit married men in front of their wives? No. Does that make me any less interested in scoring men and adding them to my list? I don’t think so.

This article is supposed to be controversial, so don’t worry if by now you’re starting to dislike me. Most people who dislike me say they do because I’m too stuck-up, too practical, too principled. I like rules and I like a job well-done. I don’t condone distractions and half-ass efforts. And I’m quick to criticize you if you’re slacking. What? That same woman who just said she’s a slut?? There you have it: I say a slut and that’s all you see. You wouldn’t even consider all the different layers underneath this one little word. All I am to you now is a sex scandal waiting to happen.

635795733063460841354045983_odyssey20slut20shaming202

I recently added number 33 to my list. He’s perfect for the job – he’s 33 years old, he’s open-minded and he has very Jesus-y long hair. Honestly, the similarities are astounding! I told him he was my number 33 and he was cool with that. He didn’t berate me for my life choices, he didn’t feel his ego was threatened and he even asked to see me again. This is what I look for in a man and, believe me, had my quest been more successful, number 33 would’ve likely been number 333. (Spooky how easily you’re reminded of the Dark Side now, eh?)

Sadly, it’s not that easy. Men these days are just so prone to slut-shaming… one would think we weren’t giving them pleasure (oral, anal and numerous other kinds). How does me liking sex make me a lesser human being? I still think about sex far less than the average man. I am still adamant about my health and always practice safe sex. And I still have other hobbies besides fishing for cock.

fpkmiux

This is not supposed to be a rant. I’m pretty happy with where I am in life. I just wish more women felt free to be themselves in the bedroom. I’m by no means a freak; just your average half-of-the-month-horny, half-of-the-month-Medusa kind of girl. And all I wish for is a world where the only sex crime is one where not enough consent was involved.

tumblr_mwodo5803r1si5f1jo1_500

On that same note, any of you ever heard the term fuck-zoning before? It’s supposed to be the male equivalent of friend-zoning. Just as women are known to decide pretty fast whether a new guy is a potential sex partner, men seem to be quick to judge a woman’s relationship potential. If a chick is deemed fuckable, but not dateable, she is promptly fuck-zoned. Because no man would turn down the free booty. Allegedly.

I was recently friend-zoned by someone I was pretty casual about. As a woman, I found this confusing. Shouldn’t he have fuck-zoned me instead? Wouldn’t it have made more sense evolutionary to at least bang me once, see how he liked it? I asked, he said he wasn’t interested (in his own complicated guy-talk way) and that was the end of it.

Then again, I recently fuck-zoned a guy instead. It seems to me neither type of ‘zoning’ should be restricted to a specific gender. We are grown-up people and as such we should be able to tell each other the truth. ‘I don’t find you sexually attractive’ and ‘I don’t want a relationship with you’ are just some of the more difficult truths to spill out. It doesn’t have to be about putting people in boxes, because we rarely like people based on their similarities. We like them because we find them unique in some small way or another. In my experience, it is much better to tell a man that ‘he’s such an interesting person, that you’d like to hang out with him, even though there’s no sexual chemistry’ than to sprinkle him with a cold ‘you’re just one of those people I cannot imagine myself ever having sex with’. Am I right or am I right?

Guys, gals, people: let’s stop ‘zoning’ everyone and instead try to make all of the interesting people in our lives feel special… even if we cannot give them all they ask for!

you-know-im-right

I wanted to finish with something I realized while watching the early ‘Castle’ episodes this week: I am genuinely charmed by the uncomplicated male brain. I would never in a million years ask for one of those solution-generating machines, but they are just.so.lovely! A male brain is exactly what a woman needs on a Saturday morning, just after she’s eaten loads of unnecessary carbs and cannot decide where to start with the housework. A male brain is structured, single task oriented and craves results. Yes, with a male brain you will get distracted by every pair of boobs in your eyesight but other than that, male brains are pretty reliable. You will probably get all the housework done without questioning your worth once. Because men like to fix things, practical things and they rarely dwell on existential problems none of us should be dwelling on in the first place.

1f49d0c0-77cd-0131-a4b9-6a30efea1edb

My advice: borrow a male brain for a week. Forget about ‘what society expects’ you to be doing with your life. Improvise the rules. Get an awful load of shit done. Show off. Have a couple of one-night stands. Fuck-zone one of them. And, for fuck’s sake, don’t you dare call yourself a slut afterwards!

 

Tell me what you think 😉

Advertisements

Tell me what you think!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s