Of course, as a young adult, I wanted to have multiple simultaneous boyfriends who’d all know of each other, that is. It would have been fun. But I assumed if I had more than one boyfriend, they’d want to have multiple girlfriends, and that wouldn’t suit me one goddamned bit. Greedily, I wanted them all to myself, and I figured no man would ever go for that.
Then, in spirit conversations, I realized, to my huge dismay, that the guys I always loved the most would, upon contemplation, say, “Yeah, no, we don’t want other women in this. Just you.” You know? *Gasp* No words. “Women, typically, are party poopers. We don’t want them around,” they’d… Hint: if not, say it out loud. And I agree. Nothing kills a party quite like a grown woman with fake self-confidence and a point to prove. Nothing kills a party like a woman who thinks she’s a fucking hero for keeping the guys off you.
Forced to openly be what I always was.
This whole dynamic that we discovered, to me, is like being forced to be whatever I always was but feared I’d be hated for if discovered. To be loved for what I feared to be despised for. Nobody loves a slut. No man would marry a slut, women kept saying. Men don’t respect sluts; women kept telling me. Women have always been eager to speak on behalf of men and their feelings. As a consequence, no matter how much men showed me both love and respect, I never really thought it’d carry all the way into a committed relationship, and definitely not if multiple men were involved.
I never thought I should flaunt my sluttiness, not hide it. I never thought that if I let the men who I loved see me go home with another man… They’d… Love it.
I permitted myself to just be… Me.
I am currently not in a relationship,
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