I once read a quote from Katy Perry which said “I don’t do one night stands, the thought of being that intimate with someone I barely know freaks me out.” Here was a girl after my own heart, someone who understood that being naked and going for a horizontal jog down Bang Street was something that had to be earned, and that gaining access to a woman’s bed was a privilege that not everyone was privy to. Yet lately I have taken a U turn on my previous beliefs without even stopping to realise.
In my 27 years I have slept with 12 people, 3 of which were long term boyfriends, and the rest were people I had been seeing long enough to feel comfortable getting down to business with. But over the past year something changed in me and I began letting my hair down, as well as my knickers, without stopping to think about how I may come across to other people.
I always care what other people think about me, whether it’s someone I have just met, or a person who has been a part of my life for years. So the idea that guys could see me as someone who hits Nottingham every weekend looking for my next sex fix makes me feel physically sick. I am and will always be a ridiculous romantic person, the idea that one day I will click with someone on a level never felt before is always in the back of my mind when I meet a potential date.
This year saw me let loose a little, and when I say this I mean I would go to London, party and for once in my 27 years not worry about having some fun, as it seems everyone else was doing it without a care in the world. The year before was one of the worst of my life; I broke up with a guy I thought I had an amazing future with and lost my gorgeous Dad to cancer, so any chance to drink and have a great time was a welcome change from drama, tears and constant anxiety.
So how many men did I go wild with? 10? 20? 50? No to all three, as the magic number was only 4, with only one being a one nighter with someone I met on a night out with my gay best friend, who knew how uptight I could be and just wanted me to have one night of fun with a gorgeous guy. The other three I knew through my cousin, and on paper it would seem I was a Nottingham floozy who flitted to London and treated it like my own personal Las Vegas, when in fact I was just a bit of a lonely lost girl who was enjoying male attention to boost her own self esteem. But my intentions with each guy were to eventually meet up with them again and see if anything was there; a little naïve yes, but a hopeless romantic can also be hopeless in other ways.
So where does this leave me now? Well my personal view on one night stands remains the same; they might be fine for other people but I know what I knew all along, that they just don’t sit right with me as I cannot just have sex with someone and feel absolutely nothing. So while men may come and go as they please, I would beat myself up rotten at the mere thought of hurting someone’s feelings.
Did I make mistakes over the past year? Yes and no, but the only person I have to answer to is myself, and no one can judge me for things I have done when they do not know what I have been through. I don’t go on dates with only sex in mind, and I don’t cruise around Nottingham looking for my next lay; if people choose to believe this then there is nothing I can do but cut them out of my life. I have come to accept that detaching myself from sex, and seeing it as ‘just a bit of fun’ is something that I just cannot do, and if I’m honest I am pretty damn proud of that.
So one night stands might leave some people ‘winning’, but they leave me feeling like a loser, and there are enough things in life to leave you feeling crappy; being intimate with someone you quite like shouldn’t be one of them.
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