There I was, tied to a wooden pole, surrounded by puritans adorned in their buckle shoes and lace collars. “BURN THE HARLOT!” they yelled. I could feel my feet getting warmer as they lit the coals under me, but I felt no anger, no resentment towards those holding the torch. I just felt concerned for my generation’s attitude toward sex.
While these events did occur, there were no 16th century witches burning alive. Instead, I was at Rain on 4th, a local Austin gay bar where I unexpectedly ran into a former admirer and his close comrades. I suppose it’s my fault for rejecting his advances months ago, but his chums decided to take it upon themselves to “kill the witch,” per se.
I was slut shamed, a common experience for many college students, especially after they reject a fellow student’s advances. In my case, perhaps I should’ve given him a trophy titled, “Thanks for trying to sleep with me.”
There’s a lot of vulnerability embedded in sex, and it should be treated as such. It’s not the easiest thing to do emotionally and requires a lot of trust from individuals partaking in the act, so it’s always a bit upsetting when someone judges you for something so close to the heart and below the belt.
I’ve been a victim of shame from others a handful of times, but the particularity of the aforementioned case was that it was in a public space. A space where I thought I was safe from shame. I was aghast at the fact someone thought it was okay to discuss such a private matter and bash you about it in front of complete strangers. But like a woman being burned at the stake for no reason, I prevailed.
After those events transpired I began to think, “Am I a slut?”, but I quickly came back to reality as I realized, “Who actually cares?”
In a world where it seems everyone is keeping score, hopping from one square to another on the game board of sex and dividing themselves into two teams: “prudes” and “young hos,” why not play your own game? Make up your own rules. Be your own kind of winner when it comes to your sexual life.
It’s important to understand not every individual will respect the unspoken rule of keeping sex shame free, and you might be asking, “Well, what do I do now?”
I suppose you could fly off on your broom never to be seen again, or you could take back what’s rightfully yours — your confidence. The idea of not caring what others have to say about you and your genitals is easier said than done, but I can attest to the fact it does not require a magical spell. Just a bit of practice and remembering that no one knows what’s best for you other than yourself.
Have the sex life you’re comfortable with; burn shame at the stake.
Espinoza is a rhetoric and writing and journalism junior from Laredo, Texas.
