I have said on numerous occasions there is a stark contrast between sexual freedom and sexual promiscuity. Sexual freedom, is the ability to openly and honestly accept who you are sexually. You have accepted your wants, desires, and preferences as they apply to your sex life. Being sexually free means that you are comfortable in the bedroom with your body, and fear or insecurities do not factor into your sexual encounters/experiences. Sexual promiscuity, which is often masked as sexual freedom, is the process of engaging in numerous sexual encounters or relationships.
Now the first real question is how did sleeping around come to equate itself with sexual freedom? Well from where I sit I would say some of the overarching ideals of feminism and equality. The notion that women can and are justifiably able to do anything that a man can do, and/or sometimes do it better is the factual platform. However, just because men do it, does that mean women need to as well? Did anyone ever consider that women don’t need to do everything men do? Or perhaps that some of the issues men have are based on the nature of some of their lifestyle choices? In order to be accepting of our inherent equalities we also have to be accepting of our differences. The only time you’ll hear that though is probably in a diversity or cultural sensitivity class.
Sexual freedom is something I know very little about and have yet to experience in my relationships as a whole. Sexual promiscuity is something I know a little too much about, as it relates to the brief period of time after my divorce, briefly masked as sexual freedom, that shall henceforth and forever be lovingly and laughingly referred to as my ‘Homent’.
The urban dictionary defines a homent, as a woman who is not a ho, but feels like one for a moment. What makes a woman a ho varies by opinion, there is no standardized number of sexual encounters or partners in a day, a week or a lifetime. Just the general understanding that you have slept with more than one person. That said by numerical standards I still have yet to reach any substantial faction. However, by definition the homent is all about how you see yourself momentarily.
So how did I stumble across this homent? Years of mental and emotional degradation, and a desire for instant gratification. The need to be loved and loveable, a longing to be wanted, seen as beautiful and considered sexy, mixed with an inherent lack of self worth, esteem, and actualization. Now granted I didn’t just grab a pair of stilettos and hit the stroll, lol. I did date though a few different men and randomly selected a couple to sleep with. Not all at once or in the same breadth of time, but consecutively over a few months. I even threw in a one night stand, which ended up not being just one night, just for the hell of it. Now granted I had way more dates than sexual encounters, but I couldn’t see at the time that I was going about this the wrong way. What was I accomplishing for myself with this declaration of freedom? Had I improved any of the areas of emotional deficit in my life? Did this behavior compliment my life or my goals in any fashion? Was I gaining anything of any inherent value besides this increasing sense of depression?
Well yes and no. I learned that the sexual freedom I wanted I wasn’t going to find in the arms and the lap of a stranger. It takes years to know someone, so they were all essentially strangers. We had no commitment or obligation to one another, we merely had an agreed upon shared risk with a goal of temporary satisfaction. I got the connection with another human being I felt I needed, along with the occasional release, but there still was something missing. I was throwing a band-aid over my scars because it felt good, but I was stuck. I was still trying to prove to myself that my ex was wrong and other men would want and desire me. I wasn’t worthless like he’d ingrained in me for years. I discovered that what I truly needed and wanted had very little to do with being wanted or desired in a sexual manner, that part was easy. I also realized, that for me it would probably be virtually impossible to fuck my way to freedom without losing something more valuable, my self respect, and self esteem to name a few. In my mind I decided to reach a place of sexual freedom with strangers it would be necessary to have already reached a point of bitterness. The place where I have given up on and have no aspiration to be loved I just want something quick and intense and temporary so feelings don’t get planted.
The things I was really missing this behavior for me was only detracting from. My self esteem was not attached to a good orgasm, and I wasn’t going to find and love myself through the insertion of any manner of penis. Where I actually did find these things was alone. No friends, no men, no world, but alone. I found them in my children’s eyes and their smiles. I found them in writing by talking about or to myself. I found them through therapy. And I found them through trial and error gaining confidence with every step and celebrating every failure by refusing to walk away empty handed determined to take something from each experience in my life. Most importantly I found them through God, the beauty and wonder He showed me in myself, and through forgiveness. I‘ve said it before the hardest thing I have ever done to date is forgive myself for bad decisions, but the grace of God, that lets you know you didn’t lose value, but you gained knowledge.
Sure my vagina is the least of what I have to offer, but its mine. Thankfully I didn’t share it too much before I truly understood my vagina, like the rest of me had value and was an intricate part of me. A piece of who I am, and even though we say otherwise, my emotions. There comes a time in every woman’s life, be it her homent, or her everyday life where she has to as I like to say “Put your pussy up”, and use her logical thinking skills. There are many a man out there who think they can run you and your mind with their tongue and/or shaft game. Women who are broken, as I was and in some ways still am, have an innate vulnerability. In that vulnerability you fail to realize that you are never really the predator, you are still the prey.
At this point, I could throw up a wall around this and say ‘don’t judge me!’ I do understand that you are people and you are going to judge. However, before you condemn me, once you’re are done judging I would like to challenge you to crawl through the dark spaces in your own closet and the conditioning of your mind to your own place of freedom. Think past the sex and consider what else is really going on what do you really need/want and you just might discover that it isn’t sex at all.
Originally published 4/13/16