Sexually (and Mentally) Liberated

A few years ago, I was lying out in Sheep Meadow, alone in the company of a bathing book (trashy one you wouldn’t otherwise read), when a man on a bicycle approached me. I was underage and pretending I wasn’t with permission from a fake ID that somehow worked, though it featured a girl who was blond and green-eyed, quite the opposite of me.

Classily sipping on a mimosa out of a paper bag and ignoring the fact my chest was turning red, Mr. Bicycle jumped down, shirtless and sweaty, and asked my name. With little makeup on and even smaller concern about it, I chatted with him for half an hour or so until he claimed he had a late lunch to get to. Per his request, I slipped him my number and went about my tanning afternoon, not that interested in him but intrigued enough  hope he called.

Skip to a week later and I’m sitting across from Mr. Bicycle on our second date at a place on the lower east side that’s dimly lit and offers food that’s not only overpriced, but overcooked, too. I’m not a picky eater unless I’m paying for it, in which case I want to get the best sizzle for my steak, but since Mr. Bicycle was forking over dough for the bill, I politely downed my dinner with a smile.

Half-way through, I decided that Mr. Bicycle has potential and was someone I would agree to a third date with. We hadn’t kissed yet, but I wanted to. I wasn’t ready to have sex with him, but I figured he was pretty good and pretty blessed in that department, based off his mannerisms and his build. I didn’t know much more than the basics about him: age, background, occupation, his affinity forPeru, his dislike of Asian food. Unlike me, he actually resembles my fake ID (which I hadn’t told him is fake), eyes as green as Sheep Meadow and blond locks that fall effortlessly around his face. He also has dimples, which time and time again, seems to be a feature on a man I continuously attract.

The night was coming to a close and the city was in an unusual state for a July evening, the humidity wasn’t suffocating and the streets were not buzzing in activity or tourists. For once, New York rests and while it was the second date and Mr. Bicycle had no promise of anything really, I rest happily in the smirk that comes with a date gone well. He asked to walk me back to my apartment, to make sure I got there safely like a gentleman, and I let him. As we approached my doorway and I reached for my keys, he pulled me into him and kissed me sweetly and passionately.

It would have gone down in my book or in this blog as the best first kiss of all time, if what came next didn’t happen. After the 45-second-or-so lip lock, I smiled up at him and turned to open my door as I said, “Thank you for a great evening, Mr. Bicycle.” He stopped me, turned me around and looked me dead-in-the-eye.

“Aren’t we going to go upstairs and f***?”

Stunned and taking myself as “not that type of girl,” I immediately became offended and plainly dismissed his advance. I fidgeted with my key in a rush to get inside and away from this guy who was so inappropriate, when he asked yet another uncalled for question: “C’mon, Lindsay, aren’t you sexually liberated?” I ignored him and stepped inside ad I told him again to have a nice evening, before I ran up the many flights to my apartment, consumed with disgust.

I recently told this story to a friend and as I went about what I usually portray as an unfortunate series of events, I found myself not relaying it without as much style as I usually do or with as many convicted statements like “Can you believe he did that on a second date?” or “What a f***ing a**hole, right?”

No, instead I found myself finding the story….quite commonplace. I mean, what girl hasn’t encountered a guy who has no class attempting to get in her pants? It’s not like every man doesn’t try at least once, anyway – right? If he doesn’t, we question his orientation in a heartbeat – those poor nice guys just often don’t make the cut. While I didn’t want to sleep with Mr. Bicycle that night, had I wanted to – should I have felt bad for doing so? Was he out of line for proposing sex – perhaps. Could he have gone about about it a better way – definitely.  But is it wrong for him to act on sexual urges? Nah.

It took me a few years, a few partners, and a few earth-shattering orgasms for me to change my tune a bit. Or maybe, it took until I did what Mr. Bicycle spotted I hadn’t done yet: sexually liberated myself.  

I was never raised or taught to “wait until marriage” to have sex, though I was brought up in the church. I think my mother is more realistic and she just warned to be careful and to make sure I trusted the person I was giving a “special part of myself to.” I have always valued my private and special parts and I think thus far, I’ve been rather selective of who gets to explore them.

But I’ve also stopped judging myself for having desires. I’ve stopped holding myself back and placing rules and restrictions on myself that are based off nothing but what I think I should do or what I think is acceptable by standards I haven’t even defined.  I’m in awe of my friends who are sincerely sexually liberated -the ones who demand their sexuality to be respected and make no excuses for the lives they lead or the beds they’ve laid.

Maybe I shouldn’t be envious – maybe I should see sexual liberation as an act of opening your mind, not spreading your legs. It’s more about giving yourself permission to say (or scream) yes; it’s about trying new things without basing your decision on outside perceptions, but by what you’re comfortable with and what you want. It’s about valuing yourself as special, as you are, and deciding what special (or just foreign, tanned, and ripped) people you want to share those special spots with.

Too much emphasis is put on our numbers, who we do or don’t sleep with, and what that says about us. When in reality, all sex says about any of us is that we’re…human. There is no better sexual awakening or liberation than realizing that what you feel, what you want, and what you do is exactly what you were made to feel, to want, and to do. So feel it, want it, and do it – in whatever way makes sense to you. Because to have successful sex or successfully let yourself go to enjoy that sex – the first person you have to release…is you.

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9 thoughts on “Sexually (and Mentally) Liberated

  1. I can see where you are coming from. I have this conversation with my male friend now all the time-how difficult it is for men not to think about sex. It’s a biological and sometimes involuntary obsession. I feel bad for them really. I mean, as enjoyable as sex is, I wouldn’t want it to be at the forefront of my thoughts 24/7. However, being aware that their brains are wired to always think about sex and having constant primal urges does let me cut them some slack. I’m less likely to take offense to guys being aggressive or saying sexual things to me. Doesn’t mean I’ll given in however.

    Also, you might have not responded enthusiastically when he asked you to sleep with him because of your age. There’s often a lot of weight involved when it comes to the age factor.

  2. So, was that the end of Mr. Bicycle ? Great Kiss turned into stupid move, and the end ?

    Another date ot two and you would have invited him up. Well, you found out early he did not want much more.

    Even if I want a woman, I don’t use that four letter word. Either women don’t go for a 2nd date, or things get fun within 3 or 4 dates. Good kisses a sufficient lead in. I’m in no rush, when there can be so much more to look forward to.

    I think its fair for for a woman to want be liked as well as F***ed. Be happy before and after and during.

  3. Great post, for a lot of reasons. As a gay man, I really wonder how much I have to just “give in” these days… to attract men and to enjoy men.

    I don’t honestly know what it means to “sexually liberate” oneself. I would hope, at my age, I don’t need liberating. But I do understand the need to open one’s mind, and stop judging.

    Again, great post.

  4. I think being sexually liberated is just that, being liberated from sex — having the freedom to choose it and not be controlled by it. To really “give” it someone instead of it being driven by emotion or impulse. We often say that we “give someone a kiss” but I think that its usually more accurate to say “take a kiss from someone.” Its all about your perspective. Think about when you “give” someone a backrub, you think about how they are going to enjoy it. How often do we think about “giving someone a kiss” in the same terms — thinking about how the other person will enjoy it, not me.

  5. I loved the final paragraph of this. Dead on.

    Regardless of ‘who’ and ‘how’ and ‘how many’ and ‘what’ … we all ultimately need to answer to only one person. Ourselves.

    I’m wild when I want to be, tame when I choose. This is what proves my own liberation – my ability to decide WHEN I say yes, not saying YES to everything and everyone.

    I shudder to think how many women heard this line before and after you from Mr. Bicycle and felt any self-doubt about their own liberation. Being LIBERATED is not a justification that men can use to abuse our better judgement.

  6. Wow, I really needed this. Being a 24 yr old and up till 1.5 years ago only had sex with a man I had been married to, I am JUST NOW learning what sexual liberation is. Still having only added 3 to my belt I’m starting to think this is not good enough. I have yet to have amazing-mind-blowing-earth-shaking sex and I think the only way I’m going to get it or know what it is is to stop thinking about the notches on my belt all together. By no means does this entitle me to sleep with any man I see but if I truly want to I should allow myself. It’s not fair to deprive oneself of something they truly want right? I used to think that the smaller the number the better but now its starting to sound as if I am missing out on life experiences I should have but have not permitted myself to enjoy. Having finally found my independence I have a lot to think about, like upgrading my twin sized bed! lol. Thanks Linds!

    • @Melina I think earth shattering sex has everything to do with how you an your partner connect at an emotional level and not how many guys you’ve slept with. I’m going to go out on a limb here, but I think what you mean by “earth-shattering sex” is really an “earth-shattering connection,” to complete each others sentences and feel secure with your lover. A lot of this has to do with you and how you see the world, not sex. I fear that our society gives way too much power to sex and leaves ppl perpetually distracted from the things that really matter in life: emotional connection. And btw, Micah is a guys name.

      • Thank you Micah. Good point however my life has always centered on the emotional connection that I have with a partner and I still have yet to find that “earth-shattering” feeling even after being married for 3 years. Society indeed does give sex too much power but I have always lived on the other spectrum of things, needing to love or be in a committed relationship to experience what the person is like in bed. I need to give credit to the animalistic sex I haven’t allowed myself to experience that is all about the physical and not the emotional.
        This post allows me to reflect on how I view un-monogamous sex. If the situation were to present itself this post gives me the perspective to know that if I have sex with someone I am not committed to, not to see myself as anything but a mature adult able to make her own decisions. Before I would view it as careless, bad judgment and dare I say it “slutty”. It is not fair for me to judge others like that nor should I judge myself in such a harsh light if it were to take place.

  7. Pingback: Are We All Just Scared Shitless of Love? |

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