Time to embrace my desires and unleash my inner Bad Girl

“I’m so fucking tired of being a good girl. I want to be a very bad girl. I wanna make more than Santa’s naughty list this year."

My unintentional but heartfelt mic drop was met with applause, hoots, hollers, an offer to introduce me to a “daddy” and verbal encouragement from the 14 other women. Fourteen anonymous women (all of them younger than me) gathered together on a Saturday night in a classy smut bookstore attending an afterhours conversation about desire, facilitated by a sex psychologist.

My life isn’t boring. Well, my sex life is. 

So let’s talk about sex. I mean we can talk about my sex life but it’s currently not that interesting. 

I guess a good starting place is a super-quick recap of my sex life. Had sex for the first time at 19 when I moved to another city to go to college. The first time wasn’t great but I kept practising and discovered I truly enjoy sex. Respectful, consensual sex. Sex that is gentle, sex that is raw and sex that is exploratory within agreed-upon limits. I met My Favourite Husband (MFH) and had some good sex, mostly at the beginning of our marriage. Then, well, life and the sex became less and less important and the self-gratification became more and more important. Sex stopped years before he got sick and then. when he became ill, it wasn’t even something that was a thought.

Then he died. About three months later, I was consumed by Widows Fire. Yup, there’s even a name for the intense horniness I was experiencing. And it’s not uncommon. I’m grieving, trying to sort through my chaos and, on top of it, I have a nonstop sexual fever that will not abate no matter what I do. And I did a lot. I did a lot by myself. I thought I was abnormal feeling the way I did so soon after the death of MFH. My friend Google assured me I was not abnormal. 

Although the timing could’ve been better, the return of my dormant sex drive, a sex drive that assures me I’m very much alive, was welcomed. Initially I did not seek out a partner to assist in putting out the fire. A partner was a complication I did not want. So I invested in a good toy (or two) and let my mind provide the inspiration. It’s been working well for me for the most part. I did have my epic dating fail blip. One of the reasons it was an epic failure was that the only time The Boy wanted to have sex with me was when he was drunk. So yeah, no. Jerk.

I’m not opposed to continuing to take matters into my own hands but I’ve reached the point where I want something more. I want the touch of another person's hands. I want waves of desire and pleasure to wash over me and with fulfillment coming from hands that roam, lips that tease, bodies that tangle. I want to explore new adventures. I want to please and be pleased. But, as good as the sex will possibly be, I want to be wooed. I want the seduction. The buildup and the anticipation. I want to start to feel the butterflies and then the burn and its warmth spreading into my veins. I want to be courted. I want to have someone claim me outside of the bedroom — hold my hand, show me off. I want to claim them. I want the smouldering looks, the eyes that lock. I want the promise that the mutual desire we are feeling will be satisfied — and more — and then be claimed inside the bedroom. It’s time to be bold.

I first entered into the bookstore that specializes in smut a few months back. I read all kinds of books, many that contain sex. But these books have sex and, in addition, have a story. I was open to it all and the staff helped me purchase a wide variety of books with different themes. I discovered that most of them intrigued me enough to want to “try some of these things at home.” But how? I’m pretty sure that my version of casual sex still contains an emotional connection. And how do I find a partner who’s open and willing to exploring? How do I avoid having sex with an axe murderer? When did finding someone to have sex with become so much work? Where are the ‘80s when you need them? 

Well, I knew the answers weren’t going to come from just one place, which is why when my favourite bookstore announced this event, I knew I needed to go. Hell, the tickets went on sale when I was in Portugal so I carefully calculated time differences and stopped at the St Apollonia train station to connect to the internet and buy a ticket the moment they went became available!

And here I am on a Saturday night, soaking in the ambience, the raw conversation about desire. About our hangups with desire and pleasure — both sexual and nonsexual. With reasons why desire might go away in the moment or for many, many moments. There was nothing off-limits in the facilitated conversation. And when the talk rolled around to granting ourselves permission to feel desire as something normal, beautiful and not shameful, the voice that spoke inside demanded to speak outside and I commanded the room. Unintentionally. 

But my verbal spiel — of how to give myself permission — and my desire to be a bad girl was my conversation contribution. And it spurred others to chime in, asking the same question: How do we let go of taught habits? Preconceived notions? Why does desire have to be bad in women? Why can’t women enjoy a healthy sex life, express their desires in whatever way works for them? Why, if you are a woman who enjoys sex and exploring in a non-monogamous way, are you given a derogatory label and treated badly? And, if we are being true to our own desires, our own sexuality, do we even care? 

During the break, I had a younger woman approach me. She shared her story but also said that in creating this next chapter of my life, I was probably doing things the way I want to do them. Why couldn’t this apply to my sex life as well? It gave me deep pause for thought. In fact, I’ve been mulling this over all evening: why I’m colouring inside the lines on this? Why I can’t be both a good girl and a bad girl?

I ended up purchasing more books, four fiction and one nonfiction. The nonfiction is titled Want by Gillian Anderson. It is a book based on anonymous submissions from women worldwide of their sexual fantasies. It’s about desire, fear, intimacy, shame and self-satisfaction. I’m hoping that by delving into it any of the fears I might have, and any roadblocks I’m throwing up  regarding why I’m not liberating myself sexually, will be eased knowing that I’m not alone. 

I’m not exactly sure what my next step will be. I just know that there will be next steps. I’m quietly done with the status quo. I have one life and I want to live it as fully as possible and as true to myself as I can. 

SovViva La Bad Girl! And Viva the Good Girl!