“Have a slutty phase. It builds character.”
The above is some bullshit I read somewhere on the internet. I can’t say I had a slutty phase at all, but I can say that the combination of college and today’s technology sure makes it easy.
There have been people in and out of my life. The person who ripped through me the most was my first love, who I’ve referred to before in this space as “B” or “Bo.” Our love was a short-lived whirlwind that I will never forget and still cling on to. I haven’t fully let go. I don’t know if I ever will. And if the chance to be together again presents itself, I’m not sure I could say no.
I never thought I would ever be with another man until marriage. It was a cultural thing. But, thankfully, and sometimes with guilt, I have been with other people than Bo. Mostly all of it has happened in the past year. This is because for the first time, I could see myself as a sexual being.
I remember a little while after getting out of my relationship with Bo, I thought I was bisexual, but I never really worried much about it except for internal moral judgement of myself. I never thought I was going to be with another person, and it wasn’t something anyone needed to know. But I definitely felt attraction toward women in ways I realized other women did not feel. There were girls I had deep crushes on. When I got to college, I did hang out with some LBGT groups and identified with the community. Often times, I felt very much out of place and confused as to whether any of it was real or if I was just straight and trying to be unique. Everyone used words I just didn’t know about. I learned so much, however, and really felt like I could be myself around those people. Most importantly, I came to realize sexuality can be viewed as a spectrum, and I didn’t have to fall totally on one side or right in the middle. That was an amazing thing to learn that I hope in the future more young people are taught. Maybe I wasn’t bi, maybe I wasn’t straight, or demi, or whatever words they’re using nowadays—I honestly can’t keep up. I could just be “kind of queer” and that was okay too.
I think after I realized all this, I was at the stage where I thought “wow, I have this information about my sexuality, now will I do anything with it?” I was still very much in love with Bo, even though I knew it was over. I didn’t think having sex with people or even having feelings for other people was the key to recovering and moving forward. Turned out, I was kind of wrong.
Maybe it was reading other blogs here on WordPress, or maybe it was just random things on the Internet telling me to have a slutty phase, but I have, in this past summer, delved into being with other people.
The first person besides Bo I was with was Aaron from Tinder, who I did write about once. Later on, I dated a man who was the same ethnicity as myself but that didn’t turn out great. For all of it I held deep, deep guilt. If my parents knew what I was doing, they would be ashamed. I was not taught this way. I was taught to be a different kind of girl. A good Muslim. I was going to go to Hell for this. God must hate me.
I can’t say I still don’t feel guilty sometimes, but I know in my heart what I’m doing is not a bad thing. Having sex with people is not bad. Sharing emotions and being intimate is not bad. When I allowed myself to be a sexual creature, and accepted myself as one, I felt better. I became a better person. I am stronger now. I am happier with my self image. I feel more spiritual and I feel that maybe I can have a relationship with God and have a faith, because no longer do those things feel like traps, but rather as guides.
That’s not to say my different relationships this past summer have not brought their share of tears and confusion. But it was all normal. I moved from it when I needed to. Having depression and navigating those things was hard, but at least I wasn’t immobilized like before.
As I type all these things though, I wonder, am I just trying to justify all the bad things I’ve done as okay? Even if that was true, I don’t think these kind of things will send me to hell anymore. Yet I was so pressured all my life to think a certain way that was so contrary to what being a human being is about, and I can’t get it out of me. It’s ingrained.
I suppose therapy could get it out, but quite honestly, I don’t even like talking about my sex life or relationships in therapy. I feel uncomfortable about it all. I do joke about it and talk about with friends, but otherwise, on a serious note, I’m scared to admit what I’m doing is reality.
This particular conflict probably won’t be resolved in my head anytime soon, but action wise, I know what I’m going to keep doing, and that’s, well, messing around and shit.
This was written in such a lumpy fashion. That’s all for tonight. I’m quite tired.