My Hook-up Experience ‘Frees’ Me

Recently I just had my second hook-up experience. It was a month after my first one. Both times were with a foreign guy who had good sense of humor and who treated me respectfully, and both times we had a great time. I had an uncomfortable feeling after hooking up, and not because I regretted it. Instead, it was because I actually enjoyed something that society tells me is wrong. Something is wrong with this and I need to set some things straight.

Before my messy break-up a year ago, I only slept with my boyfriend. The break-up traumatized me. For several months I couldn’t even imagine being touched by another guy. I was disgusted with the idea of having an intercourse with anyone beside my ex. Some people tried, of course, during party or when I traveled by myself and met people, and I always rejected them. I’d put a stop to the playful flirting games when they started to want more.

 

Until a month ago, when a traveler asked me if I would like to have dinner with him. As an experienced solo traveler, I know the feeling when you want to hang out with local people to know more about the place you visit. We met for a drink.

This was during the time when I was missing my ex so much and when I was crying nearly every weekend because I felt so lonely after we officially stopped communicating three months earlier. I had been sexless for nearly a year, during which I regularly masturbated, too afraid to get the real sex. So the temptation of starting the flirting game was very high, and I knew right away that he wanted to sleep with me. But I initially told him that I didn’t sleep with strangers and that I only slept with my boyfriend because I needed affection to be able to do that. He accepted it, not being pushy whatsoever.

We went to a party later and I danced wildly, something that I always do anyway.  After I finished my drink, he went to get me another drink. While alone waiting for him, my mind changed. All I wanted that night was physical pleasure and as a woman with freedom, I knew I could have anything I wanted, if I wanted it. Why should I have to feel bad for wanting to fulfill my biological need? I am sexually active and I know that there’s nothing wrong with it, because I own my body and have the full right to please myself. Why do people see sex as a thing for men to enjoy, but a sacrifice for women? Long story short, he asked me if I would like to come to his place and I agreed. I wanted a meaningless physical connection and there is nothing wrong with that.

Last weekend, I met a guy at a party and he was very cool, cute, and into me. He respected me and didn’t touch me even when I was dancing seductively. After some time, he kissed me gently and later we went to his place. We had fun and he treated me affectionately after the intercourse. I left the next afternoon after having breakfast, watching a movie, and engaged in an interesting conversation. I had a good time overall.

But then the feeling came again. I arrived at my own place and I felt uncomfortable because I enjoyed the experience.

Am I too easy? Yes, of course I’m being “easy” with a guy I like. Why should I play hard to get if I want it too? Wanting sex doesn’t make me less of a woman. Doing it with someone you don’t like is harmful. Doing it when you don’t want to do it, but want to keep someone interested is bad. Doing it with a creep is a terrible idea. But doing it with someone you want, when you want it is liberating. As a single woman, I don’t objectify myself by sleeping with someone I like. Instead, the idea that a woman has to repress her sexual needs to be “a good girl” is degrading. Your body is your own, not society’s.

A good friend asked me why I would have sex with someone with no prospect of relationship? The thing is I am not seeking a boyfriend, as I’m still not ready to be in a new relationship. I couldn’t afford to invest emotionally by being someone’s girlfriend. I’m picky when it comes to serious boyfriend, and, for now, no one I’ve known or met meet have the qualities I look for in a boyfriend. With the guys I slept with, it wasn’t fast romance. I only wanted physical connection, not  emotional one.

Engaging in a sexual relationship without investing emotionally can be empowering. Even healing. No more crying over my failed relationship, because I know I can be happy in any possible way by my own. Yes I’ve been hurt, but, no, I’m not a slut.