“I am not a slut” she said, “Would she imply I am?” I wondered.

Navigating being single, or should I say separated, in 2021 has been an interesting experience as I decide I’m ready to open up my semi-fragile heart again things have very much changed since I met my ex-partner on MSN almost 16 years ago. Whilst it may seem that I only recently confirmed the end of my marriage the reality was it had already been six months of living apart and prior to that it was a good six months of feeling emotionally alone.

Writing that post was difficult and at the time I was still going through the very final stages of mourning, but I think in some ways – publically stating some of the details (believe me, I only scratched the surface) helped me confirm – move on with your life and stop letting yourself be held back.

It’s been 6 weeks since a tear last left my eye, conversations with joint friends who’ve made me realise it is as I expected with further lies continuing to unfold that aren’t even worth the headspace of wondering what the untold truth is any more. I am the happiest I have ever felt, the most comfortable and confident I’ve ever felt and know that I have a lot of love to give and I’m not looking to simply settle. In conversations where I catch up with people about “putting yourself back out there”, the mostly-positive and good for you reactions received, but there are certain comments that stick with me, I’ve had certain bickering conversations with my Dad and asked him at points “would he say that if I was a son, not a daughter”, and one almost rather unintentional comment I can’t shake from my head from someone else stating “I’m not a slut” – and it left me pondering, what exactly does that mean and would they think about how I’m experiencing single life deem them to consider me one.

I’m a passionate feminist, and this has left me considering whether to writing a whole separate post on my relationship with being a feminist and the often-complicated relationship that leaves me with sex. One thing I am vocal in my passions of is men and women having different standards for sex drives and exploration, and in 2021 that still shouldn’t be the case. Women can and do have high and passionate sex drives, wanting to explore that with different people – and why is that allowed to be labelled as “slutty” behaviour. Now, I think as a passionate Christina Aguilera fan from the 2000’s until now (If I don’t listen to the Stripped album once a week minimum, something is off), the lyrics from Can’t Hold Us Down imprinted in my head aged 12 and I have Xtina partially (maybe even largely) to thank for my modern-feminist views

If you look back in history it’s a common double standard of society
The guy gets all the glory the more he can score
While the girl can do the same yet you call her a whore
I don’t understand why it’s OK
The guy can get a way with it the girl gets named
All my ladies come together and make a change

Sex drives are an interesting topic to observe between my different friend circles – and it’s very odd, I’ve noticed how polarising it is between one group of friends and the next – with me, often feeling like the black sheep in the group. I have groups of friends who absolutely do not enjoy sex, they find ways to avoid it when asked, pretend to be asleep or courageously say no. I don’t think any less of those friends – but I silently worry for them, in the same way, I wish I could go back and tell myself that a mismatch was going to lead somewhere thoroughly unhealthy.

I have few friends in the opposite boat who are miserable as their partners don’t want to have sex with them – and I’ve been someone who has been there too – one friend recently told me it had been 9 months since her partner had wanted to sleep with them – and for anyone who isn’t getting sex as often as they’d like, it makes me ache for them, as I know what it does to your self-esteem in a scenario referred to as a dead bedroom [reference: see Reddit]. I wrote a post within this forum, during the relationship asking for advice and another a few weeks ago where I referenced at the internal struggle of “recoiling at men being genuinely nice and caring” as I’d gotten used to feeling unworthy of love and attention.

I have very few friends (of which almost every single one of my friends is in a relationship) who seem to be in the blissful and confident admittance of “we have a great sex life” whether that’s we’re both happy with sex monthly, or we have mind-blowing 3-hour sex sessions every night. But observing all those conversations and experiencing things myself makes me realise how important that match of dynamic and drives is within a relationship.

I’ve always had a pretty banging pair of boobs on me (if I do say so myself), and haven’t been afraid of flaunting them – as I find boxy cuts that cover me up to be less flattering on my figure. I’m fully aware v neck jumpers catch the eye of most of the men I walk past in the supermarket – particularly more often so now, as an unaccompanied single woman with no male by my side indicating ownership. I’m not wearing the revealing cuts for anyone else but me, because it’s what I feel good in, Does that make me “a slut”?

But what both of these groups has made me realise is the importance of a matched sex drive in relationships and a match in sexual chemistry and the type of sex you enjoy. I’ve witnessed what a sexless relationship does to self esteems,  I don’t want to be months into a relationship blossoming to find out there’s no chemistry there. Does that make me “a slut”?

I’m happy to be open and honest about my relationship with sex, I have parts of my interests fairly openly listed in dating bios – because I think it’s important information and I find it easy to work out those interested in “just that” and those interested in more. I’m happy to flirt because it helps work out a clash which will waste everyone’s time. Does that make me “a slut”?

Fifteen years of the same type of relationship has made me very curious about what I haven’t tried or done, I’m adventurous and that side of me had been left very oppressed without me realising to more recently. Is it bad that as a consensual adult want to explore those things for me things without feeling guilty for doing so? Does that make me “a slut”?

The answer in my opinion to all of those statements is a big-fat-no.

I don’t think any less of the person who stated “I am not a slut”, but it has left me wondering what a slut actually means and why is it a term that still gets used. The term slut differs from calling someone a dickhead or an arsehole which is a quickly fading label – slut hangs more on someone’s reputation and it’s a real power play to use it.

Sex isn’t a big part of a relationship to everyone, but to some people it is – and we shouldn’t make anyone of any gender and sexuality feel guilty if it is a big part of it for them if it’s an important part of emotional connection and making them feel loved and appreciated – there are five love languages, and physical touch is one of them, and that’s ranked pretty highly for me in counselling, it doesn’t mean I want everyone to touch me. It it certainly doesn’t mean that I won’t say no.

To women everywhere, there’s nothing that should make you be labelled a slut, by yourself or anyone else. If you want to (and this is not me saying you have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with); experience your sexual freedom, talk to 203 people on dating apps at the same time, go on two dates in a day – kiss both of them if you want to, have sex on the first date, meet someone with the intention of only hooking up. It’s all okay, if it’s what your mind and body wants and needs, you’re not being coerced into something you don’t want to do, but none of those things will make you a slut.

So please, remove the word slut from your vocabulary, cross it out of your dictionary – it’s 2021 let’s not shame women for disobeying gender roles decided hundreds of years ago by men.

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