The word “slut” is a hard word for me to like. There is so much negative connotation. The only time I ever seem to hear it is in a negative context- either someone is describing a woman’s lifestyle, her style of dress, how she conducts herself, or someone is “joking” about the sexual promiscuity of a friend or acquaintance. No matter what the context may be, it’s usually negative, and it’s almost always directed towards a woman.

I’ll admit, I’m definitely a lot more sexually promiscuous than most, if not all, my friends and most of my peers. I used to be ashamed of it, but now it’s a trait that I’ve grown incredibly comfortable with. I don’t have an issue with my sexual background, and I feel like it shouldn’t bother others. However, for some reason, there are those that volunteer their opinions, regardless of whether or not I want to listen to it. And I’ve been called a plethora of names, either to my face or behind my back. Some common names that I heard were “tramp,” “whore,” “skank,” and “slut.” I always brushed off whore because I sure as hell wasn’t getting paid for my services, so that was the insulter’s lack of mastery of the language. “Tramp” didn’t make any sense to me, because I’m not, and never have been homeless. “Skank” was just a weird word for me, but the only time I heard that one was from my mother, and I just took everything my mother told me with a grain of salt. But “slut,” that just bothered the hell out of me. Why though?

After some inner contemplation, I figured out why I hated that word so much. According to Websters Dictionary, slut used to mean “slovenly person”, which basically is an individual who didn’t bathe themselves. Nah, I wash almost every day, so that’s not what bugged me. How about sexually promiscuous? Uh, yes, can we explore that a little more? What the hell does sexually promiscuous mean in our culture?

And of course, it doesn’t stop there. Unlike in Scandinavian Europe, where all cases of rape and assault are taken seriously, there have been cases here and in Canada where the police will brush off the victim if they are a prostitute or are in sex work. Hell, they’ve discriminated against women who were dressed too “seductively.” They did not pay attention to the fact that a woman was violated, that she said no, and yet, a sexual act occurred nonetheless. Something that so many will not care to understand or realize is that the state of dress has no bearing on how an individual acts or thinks; it’s merely the way they dress! A short skirt does not mean a woman (or sometimes a man) wants sex; it just means they are wearing a short skirt.

Slut shaming is a terrible thing that American culture is guilty of, and it not only affects social circles in high schools and college. It affects the way that women are perceived in regular society, and automatically, a woman’s sex life is her only defining trait. It doesn’t matter that she might be intelligent, witty, funny, or your possible new best friend. All that matters is that she sleeps around, maybe, and that is completely below you.

Women, or anyone, are more than a label. I’ve lost so many friend opportunities because I was automatically dismissed as a “slut.” In real life, I love my dog and my friends, I enjoy spending hours in museums, I love to read good books and watch good films, I enjoy the company of intelligent people, and I love going to the beach and I love having sex. But to others, it doesn’t matter if I found the cure to cancer- all that matters is that I have a higher “number” than most, and that makes me almost sub-human.

Teenage life is hard, that’s pretty much a given. The burden of wayward hormones, trying to fit in, trying to be somewhat appealing to the opposite sex, and attempting to get into the best college of your choice can take a serious toll on someone who still has no idea who they are and what they want to do with life.

I wish this was all I had to worry about, but unfortunately, I came from an incredibly religious household. So of course, I had to worry about pleasing a god and my staunchly religious parents. My problem? I am an atheist.

I grew up in a Protestant home; my father was actually Catholic, but when he married my mother he quickly converted. My mother, who was sexually assaulted when she was only ten, used religion as her coping method. Since I’m also a sexual assault survivor, I understand why she did that, and I would never blame her for coping the way she did. With that being said, I feel that my mother pushed religion on my family so vigorously so that she could protect us from the horror that she experienced as a child.

I had (blindly) followed our faith because I was a child, and I didn’t really know of any types of religion. I had no idea what the Islamic faith was, and I thought Jews were pretty cool. I kind of understood Hinduism and Buddhism, but regarded them as kind of heathenous and stupid. (Note: I do not think this now. I’m quite fond of both religions, and I love how peace and harmony is deeply embedded into the religions.) Atheism and Agnosticism were completely foreign concepts to me; I thought that being either of the two meant that you could do whatever you wanted and life had no meaning (again, no longer my thoughts today).

Of course, these were terrible ways to think, but that’s how I thought up until I was 14 or so. I still believed in a god, or rather, I believed in my religion. That was fine and dandy until I hit puberty. I was 12 when this occurred, and although I’d had sexual thoughts before, I never really had the feelings to go along with them. Puberty changed that.

When I had my actual period, there was no stupid celebration or whatever. Instead, both my parents (yes, you read both) sat me down and told me how I needed to save myself till marriage. I wasn’t quite sure what I was saving, but whatever, you get the idea. My mom, who did all the talking, told me that virginity is sacred and that sex before marriage is filthy, and god will be upset with me. I remember having this random thought, “Ha! Good luck with that.” I have no idea where that came from because I felt like I understood what she was saying. I was not told about STDs, how to avoid an unwanted sexual advance (which I think would have prevented my sexual assault when I was 15), birth control or condoms. I was left clueless.

Now, after puberty, I desperately wanted to have sex, but with my religion I didn’t dare act on those feelings. The problem with my faith is that sex before marriage was so demonized that it was considered second only to murder. It was incredibly messed up, but since I was only twelve, I didn’t want to be condemned, or worse, grounded. So instead, I pented up all my sexual urges and desires and attempted to pretend they didn’t exist. I had no idea what masturbation was, so I was left without any form of sexual relief. My primary thoughts were, of course, about sex, and what kind of loving god would make me feel like this if I couldn’t do anything till marriage? Yes, I felt like I was going insane.

Luckily, one of the few things that kept me sane in my absolutely bizarre household was my love for reading. I decided to pick up a book by Nietzsche. I believe it was Thus Spoke Zaruthustra, and it actually made sense. The problem with my religion is that there are a lot of wacky loopholes that members are told to just accept without question. I was confused by of lot of doctrine, including but not limited to, double sexual standards for men and women, preference of whites over blacks, and this idea that man did not first originate in Africa, but in the Bible Belt of America. The nice thing about Nietzsche is that he thought all of that was bullshit, and he felt you did not have follow every single little idea that a religion has to offer. I decided to give his methodology a try.

At first, it was quite strange, because I still did have plenty of thoughts and feelings regarding my actions and my religion. But the guilt alleviated a little bit. As I applied his philosophies to my life, I found that I actually enjoyed living. I had this odd “I hate religion” phase for a bit, but I came to terms with it, rather, I found that I hated the way my parents made feel that I must live.

I decided I didn’t want to wait till I was 16 to date. Which was one of our most important rules in my household, but I decided to bypass that. Sex became one of the most enjoyable activities I could have found. I found that it wasn’t some activity that was strictly reserved for otherwise unhappy married people, but it was a way that I could express my love in a fulfilling way.

Now, because I was still living at home, I was forced to go to go church with my family and participate in other religious activities. I longed for the day where I would no longer have to do this, and until then, kept my ideas to myself. My mother had no idea I no longer believed in her god, but it was incredibly frustrating to keep the facade up. After a while, I became increasingly belligerent about church attendance. I kept a small journal to vent to keep myself somewhat sane, and made sure that it was well hidden.

However, I must have gotten sloppy about the journal because my mother found it and confronted me about it. I was mocked and insulted endlessly about it. My mother increased the church going activities because she thought if I had more exposure to god, I would believe in him/her/it again. I was forced to endure this until I was in college, where I tasted the freedom and joy of living a godless life.

And to be honest, I’ve never been more happy in my life.

Cheating – the big C word that no relationship wants to deal with. Cheating is fickle thing though; I feel like anyone who cheats is judged not only by their partner, but by the rest of society as well. Our culture stresses that monogamy is the only way to be happy, and despite that, cheating seems to still prevail. But why does it happen if our only path to happiness is staying with one person till the day we die?

I feel like I need to personally analyze the actual act of cheating. I’ve come across so many people that have told me that they could never cheat because it’s not in their nature, they love their partner, it’s not right, if they had other feelings for someone else they would leave, and the list goes on. I then ask these people: do you actually know anyone who has ever cheated on their partner? I hear a lot of no’s, strangely enough. The act of cheating is not because you don’t love someone; if that was the case, relationships got a whole lot simpler than I recall them to be.

In most cases of cheating that I’ve observed, I’ve noticed that it’s not because one partner is actively seeking a sexual partner because they are spiteful, bored, out of love, etc.; instead I’ve noticed that there is a similarity – there’s a problem in the relationship that needs to be addressed and resolved. One common problem that I’ve encountered is that there is a loss of communication and someone’s physical, emotional, or psychological needs are not being met. This causes the suffering partner to find a “substitute”, if you will, so that they can fulfill their lacking needs.

I find that a lot of individuals aren’t looking for a simple fling, but they want to talk to someone about their day, or their ideas, or something they can’t discuss with their partner. So many of these types of relationships start innocently – they justify the relationship as a close friendship. Essentially, they are attempting to fill the void that their relationship is experiencing. Sometimes this is a conscious decision, but I find that most of the time it is a choice that is being made subconsciously. These “close friendships” end up being a lot of more intimate than they were intended to be, and in more instances than not, it turns sexual.

What should a couple do when a sexual transgression occurs? Many couples, monogamous and not, consider this to be the ultimate deal breaker and will end the relationship as soon as possible. But is this really fair? I feel like it really depends on each situation. What sexual act occurred? Some relationships can forgive some acts, such as oral or anal sex, much easier than they can forgive PIV sex (this applied for hetero couples obviously). What kind of relationship was pursued by the cheating partner? Was it strictly sexual, or did they intend to keep it on a friendship level but it just got too far out of hand? And the most important factor: What was their motivator? This is probably going to be the most difficult of all to deal with.

When it comes to the motivating factors, it’s simple to sign off the cheating partner as being selfish and inconsiderate. Yes, there are cheating partners that are malicious about their cheating; they do it to either spite their spouse or to express whatever unkind intention they have. However, I like to assume that not all people are like this, and there are cheating partners that made just this – a mistake. Blaming the cheating partner is lazy to me; it’s necessary to analyze the actions of both the cheating AND non-cheating partner. Again, I’ve outlined some motivators of the cheating partner, but I have yet to discuss the non-cheating partner’s role.

I feel like non-cheating partners are painted in an almost angelic light in our culture. They are the hopelessly devoted lover that would bend over backwards for their relationship, only to be slapped in the face by their ungrateful lover. I feel like that’s as far from the truth as possible. Most, if not all cheating relationships had some issues with the non-cheating partner. Some common complaints from the cheating partner that I’ve encountered are “He/She doesn’t listen to me”, “I feel like I’m not sexually attractive to him/her”, “They don’t give me enough attention no matter what I do”, “I feel like I’m insufficient”, and “We’ve drifted apart and I’m unsure of what the future holds.” The cheating partner is almost driven to seek comfort with someone else that will provide them with the lack they suffer from.

I’m not saying that we need to rationalize the cheating partner’s behavior, because what they did is damaging. I am saying that both partners need to claim their responsibility in the momentary failure of their relationship, if they have any responsibility. A line of communication is necessary to repair what’s broken.

For those who have cheated, don’t let your partner turn this into ammo during arguments, fights, disagreements, etc. If they justify your mistake as a reason to abuse you, it’s necessary to understand that your partner is not on the right path of forgiveness, and that you and your relationship are only going to suffer. If possible, seek a counselor so that both of you can heal and have the relationship you both desire.

For those that have been cheated on, the most important thing you can do is forgive. Chances are, your partner doesn’t want you to leave them, but they want to work things out for the best. Again, counseling would be in your best interests. If they continue to violate your trust, though, it may be a good time to question the future of your relationship and see if it will be able to survive.

I have to disagree with the adage “Once a cheater, always a cheater,” because it groups too many human beings into the same category. There are plenty of wonderful people that have been led astray because they are human and they make mistakes. Instead, it would be best to utilize the process of forgiveness and forgetting, because in the end, it will only strengthen a relationship.

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Non-heterosexuality is a touchy subject to discuss in many parts of the world; in the United States particularly, it’s feasible to get mixed reactions even while discussing it with friends or family.

Personally, I’ve always had a mild attraction to women since I was a small child. When I was about three or four, I remember feeling quite aroused when looking at the women in the lingerie section of the JCPenny’s catalog (we didn’t have anything better lying around). I didn’t think too much about it, I just knew that pretty, busty women were fun to look at. It wasn’t until I attended kindergarten that I knew I liked the male race. For me, female attraction was my first attraction.

Growing up in elementary school, I don’t remember hearing anti-gay sentiment in my household or in school. I just knew that I liked boys and girls and that was that. However, when I entered middle school, I started to hear the ever popular saying “that’s gay” from other students. I had no idea what “gay” was, so I asked my mother. My mother, a hyper-religious fanatic, told me that gays were violating the nature of god because they had sex with the same gender. The purpose of sex was to repopulate the earth, and because of their “abomination” they were angering god. I just accepted what my mother said, but at the same time I was confused because, of course, I had my own sexual attraction to women.

After doing some serious growing up, I came to terms with my homosexual tendencies and determined that gays and bisexuals were NOT evil just because they were sexually attracted to their own gender. As for the repopulation thing, there are plenty of straight people that have sex but take birth control, and for some reason, god doesn’t seem to hate them even though repopulation isn’t taking place.

This is an important intro to my own story that occurred at work recently. Most of my coworkers hear about my sexually liberal views at work and are just fascinated that I think the way I do despite my family’s background. I don’t talk about my personal sexual experiences, however, and if there are questions about my sex life, I just say ‘yes, I have an active sex life’ and keep it at that.

One of my coworkers asked about my sexual orientation though, and I had no problem indulging him. I don’t consider myself bisexual because I’m not ALWAYS attracted to women–honestly it depends on the day of the week. I told him that I’m straight with homosexual tendencies. He told me, ‘that’s so hot, I bet your boyfriends must love that.’ I just laughed at his comment, but for some reason I was irked by it. After thinking about it for a few hours, I figured out why it irked me.

Sex between women and women has produced a huge market in the porn industry. I personally prefer lesbian porn over heterosexual porn because there is actual concern for women to cum. However, porn has created a misnomer about bi and lesbian women–sex with their partners is supposed to be having entertainment value for men. I have no issue with publicized sex, but at the same time, there’s almost an expectation for bi women in our culture to engage in threesomes or moresomes, or to be more sexually deviant than their heterosexual peers, just so they can satisfy their male partners’ urges. I don’t have an issue with anyone who does, because after all, it’s what we do behind closed doors, but there should be absolutely no sexual expectations on an individual just because they enjoy having sex with both genders.

I am quite upfront with my partners about my sexual orientation, and I’ve had partners almost expect to introduce a woman during our sexual rendezvous. I personally have no issue having sex with multiple men during our trysts, but I have a hard time introducing another woman. For me, I would much rather have one on one sex with women, rather than have it with another male. I have no idea why, but those are my personal preferences. When I told my partners this, they were incredibly disappointed because I should be “freaky and down for that.” (Their words, not mine). I got angry because I shouldn’t be expected to do anything in the bedroom, except enjoy the attention that my partner was willing to provide me.

On that same line, I’ve had a few hetero friends tell me that they’ve been passed over for bi women because they were told that they were ‘vanilla and they wouldn’t be into anything fun.’ I was amused and hurt for them, because first of all, they were probably some of the kinkiest women I knew, and second, there was an unfair assumption made against them–the opposite of mine.

Of course, what I’ve learned from our experiences is that our sexuality was just that: it just meant who we would prefer fucking. Sexuality doesn’t say anything about what we are open to in the bedroom (or your fucking place of choice). Unfortunately, with so many individuals unwilling to open their eyes and understand that sexuality has little bearing to kinkiness level, women and men of all sexual preferences will be subjected to unfair stereotypes and blatantly misguided assumptions.

Growing up in my household was no easy task; my mother was on the verbally and physically abusive side, whereas my father was on the passive side. My siblings and I learned very quickly that if we were to do something that would displease my mother, we were to lie and keep it under wraps as much as possible. There was never a question of not doing things that could make her upset, but rather, lie as well as you could so that you wouldn’t get called a “little bitch” or get smacked around.

My mother was incredibly restrictive with human interaction outside of school; she claimed that children who visited their friends’ houses were not loved by their parents. In fact, I didn’t go to a school until I was five years old. I never stepped inside of a preschool, and it was traumatizing when I was left by my parents on the first day of Kindergarten. All the other children did just fine, but I silently cried the whole day because I thought my parents abandoned me.

Of course, to say that children that see their friends can’t be loved by their parents is lunacy when you’re a functional adult – foreign human interaction is what we thrive on. But as a small child, probably around eight years old, I blindly believed everything that my mother told me. The one friend that would visit me at my house (I was forbidden to go to her house) always asked me to come over, and I always told her I couldn’t because my mother said no. I was vaguely embarrassed, but I did nothing about it. If I asked my mother, she would scream at me and then guilt trip me by saying I wanted to leave her, that I didn’t love her, etc. I remember that after these experiences, I would keep my personal desires to myself.

Of course, my friendship with my childhood friend diminished, and I was alone until I was about eleven or twelve. At this age, children become more aware of their surroundings and their peers. I vaguely knew that my background was a little off, for lack of a better term. But overall, I thought it was normal for children to be hit by their parents if they used the wrong tone of voice, or you ask for candy or Cheetos one too many times. I remember engaging in a conversation with a close acquaintance about a punishment I had recently endured, and he just gave me a funny look and asked me what the hell was wrong with my mom. I told him that he had to understand she was upset with me because she thought I took her make up but was mistaken. He asked me why she hurt me, and I said “Because that’s what grown-ups do when they’re angry.” He told me no.

After this experience, I held back my own experiences and listened to how other children were treated by their parents. They held their kids in time out, they withheld toy and friend time privileges, but there was no mention of physical abuse unless it was a parent swatting their kid on the head as a joke. I began to feel bitter and resentful and asked “why me?” when my mother flew into one of her many tantrums. One day I asked her why she hit us, and she told me that children don’t learn any other way. I thought of my friends, who weren’t hit by their parents, and they were perfectly normal and functional. I told her she was mistaken, and she should explore other disciplining methods. Ironically, she got upset and hit me with a broom on the stomach and ribs.

However, instead of this teaching me to keep my mouth shut, I became incredibly mouthy, and when she decided to attack either me or my siblings, I would respond back with similar abuse. After an incident that occurred when I was 16, she learned to not lay her hands on me or my siblings again. Though she never did it again, I still have a hard time forgiving her for the hell and torment she put us through. It has caused an ugly dent in our relationship, and though I am older than 20 years, this has affected how I interact with people and how I trust them. I can find nothing positive in the way she “disciplined” me. We have a distant relationship where I tell her almost nothing because I feel like she will do nothing but continue to verbally abuse me.

My story is a lesson for those who do hit their children; even though you may think that smacking your child on the face or butt will do nothing, they will remember. Performing violence on anyone is going to warrant a negative response; doing it to your child will not only yield that, but cause a rift in your relationship for many years. I just ask that next time, before you raise your hand, catch a hold of yourself and your temper and walk away from the situation for a few minutes or hours. When you are more rational, talk to your child instead. You’d be surprised how much good you would be doing for the both of you.