The Sexy Scale of Self Worth: A Newbie's Experience With Hookup Culture
This is an original piece by a Sex Week blogger. Everyone hooks up differently. This week, KK looks back on her own rookie mistakes and decides for herself what she wants from a hookup.
What was it, exactly, that appealed to me about a guy sticking his tongue down my throat up against the wall of a fraternity house in the thick smoke of sweat, alcohol, and unleashed sexuality? Why did I find myself in the dorms of guys who ordinarily I would’ve labeled as complete tools, but now couldn’t stop thinking about? Was I a slut for making out with randos on the dance floor, or was I just being an independent woman exploring her sexuality? And if that was the case, why did that guy at the frat my second night of college call me a slut (for which I slapped him by the way)?
Welcome to the inner workings of a heterosexual lady in her first month of college, a time full of meeting new people, meeting new people with penises, and deciding what to do or not do with said penises. As I left my all girls Catholic high school behind, I thought myself to be more than ready to embrace the raw sexual nature of the college hook up culture that I had been hearing about and wanting for so long. My thought process and plan of action? Bring on the booze and boys, and I’ll bring out my tight skirts. And yeah, I had a hell of a good time when I figured out that a bold introduction, a few laughs and gentle strokes on the arm, and a few bats of the eyelashes were more than enough to get me some. I finally felt sexy, cool, and in total control, unlike my awkward, dorky, flawed high school self. I was a college girl now, and I could totally handle this whole culture of getting down to business and walking away.
Wrong. So, so wrong. Now I had a hell of a good time on my wild Welcome Week adventures of getting plastered and sucking random faces. After four years of intense sexual repression at all girls school, I needed it. Badly. I was a horny little bastard, and God bless our fucked up society for making our culture one that celebrates detached physical engagement. But that week came and passed, and I found myself getting involved in more sober romantic entanglements. It felt amazing when these cute guys who I actually knew told me that they thought I was an amazing person and so sexy and yaddah yaddah- until I noticed that they were repeating the same phrase to about three different girls. And I knew going into it that I wasn’t the only one, and I thought I was totally fine with it. After all, I was getting with other guys too. But man, there was something rather exhausting about constantly comparing myself to other girls, constantly trying to convince myself that I didn’t really care about these guys and hearing the incessant stream of “She hooked up with him? /Wait she’s so much hotter than him./ But you’re way hotter than her. /She’s being such a slut/ He’s a douche/etc./” So at the end of each fling, I found myself realizing that it was too taxing and that I was in college to find myself, so I shut it down, ate some ice cream and moved on. As I distanced myself from those more “meaningful” hookups, I found myself becoming less enchanted with the party makeout scene as well. And I was confused- this was so much fun before, why isn’t it now?
Well, I figured out that when I started hooking up with a guy, I wasn’t really sexually or romantically interested. Rather, I was looking for an affirmation, a validation of my own beauty, power, and sexual ability. Somewhere on the way to college, self worth became equated with sexual conquest, and I wanted to know that I was a worthy player in the game. I also didn’t want to be played- I wanted to feel like I was in control, like I was calling the shots. Yet as soon as my lips would touch his, my body took over with no attachment to my heart, making it feel empty and abandoned. Even though society and the media and our campus and my mind told me that hooking up was the way to go, I knew in my heart that it wasn’t giving me anything but momentary satisfaction and long term self judgement.
So I learned. I learned that if I wanted affirmation, I need look no further than my friends, my extracurriculars, or my grades, and if any or all of those were lacking, I could look to myself. I learned that there is nothing wrong with going out there and getting ass if you want it, but it’s also totally okay to say no, especially if you’re not actually interested. And I learned that on my own, I am strong and sexy and messy and confident and insecure- and that is all just fine.
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