Unrepentant SLUT Series: Absolutely No Regrets

Yesterday I kicked off my Unrepentant SLUT series. Today I've decided to take a walk down memory lane and explore how the term "slut" has played out in my life. Here it goes:

I lost my virginity when I was fourteen to a boy named Jesus* over a superbowl bet. No, seriously. When the boys found out about it at school, they ran my name through the mud and created a derivation of my name, which included the word "slut". It wasn't long after that when the girls at school jumped on the bandwagon and isolated me. 

I can remember sitting in class and listening to the teacher lecture about Hester Prynne in "The Scarlet Letter". I remember being angry because Hester was isolated, punished and humiliated for having had an extramarital affair while the man who she had an affair with walked away with his reputation intact. "The Scarlet Letter" was the turning point for me, the moment when I decided that I would never let anyone make me feel ashamed of my sexuality.

 

Over the years it's not as if people haven't tried to denigrate me for my sexuality. When my own mother found out that I had lost my virginity, she locked me in my room for two straight weeks. When I came out to get water one night, she looked at me with hate on her face and said, "You disgust me. You make me sick. You're nothing but a slut". I can go on and on about examples from ex-friends, co-workers, people in the online community, non-sex-positive feminists and so on. And I've decided that people can kiss my ass if they don't like it. 

I'd have to say that the most slut defining moment for me was when at the age of twenty I dated a guy named Orlando*. At one point Orlando asked me how many men I had slept with and I told him twelve. He immediately dumped me. A day later he called to explain his actions. 

"I just can't date a woman who doesn't know how to keep her legs shut. I want to give you a word of advice. If you want a man to get serious with you, then you need to lie to guys in the future and tell them that you are a virgin. Later after they fall in love with you, you can tell him that you were with a few guys before but you didn't want him to think that you were a slut", he explained. 

I kid you not. I wrote down a summary of what he said as soon as I got off the phone with him.

I told him, "I will NEVER lie about how many men I have slept with. If a man doesn't like it, he can kiss my ass".  And then I called his uncle, asked him out on a couple of dates and fucked the shit out of him. And later the same with his best friend. 

I will never allow anyone to make me feel bad for my sexuality. I will never make myself feel bad or regret any of my sexual experiences, even if I have made poor decisions regarding certain partners throughout my life. 

So, here's to you, Orlando~thirteen years later and I'm still slutting around while you are stuck in a miserable marriage. Oh, and by the way, since I've been with you, I've actually lost track of how many partners I've had so I guess I won't ever have to give another man an exact number of my sexual partners. 

Absolutely, absolutely no regrets. 

*Maybe, just maybe it's a real name.

Who You Callin' a SLUT!?

Any woman in power or woman who has thumbed her nose at convention has probably been called a SLUT. Been there, done that, used to hate it, and now I just laugh my ass off. 

As if there is something wrong with a sexually active woman? Ha, and people lament the plight of women in the Middle East (sarcasm intended). 

I've been thinking about this "slut" issue for quite a while now, ever since I read the book "Loose Girl: A Tale of Promiscuity". I've been meaning to read the book  "Slut! Growing Up Female With a Bad Reputation" for a while now and I have just gotten around to recently ordering it.  I look forward to hearing the personal stories in the book as well as stories of any woman with big enough ovaries to leave a comment here. Confess, repent, let it all out, sista!

So I'd like to take a little stroll down memory lane and examine this "slut" issue and how it has played out in my life-the good, the scandalous, and the ugly. I would have to honestly say that it has had a significant impact on my life. I've prepared a couple of posts that I'll be uploading over the next couple of days about my personal experiences. In the meantime, I want to pose the following questions:

• Have you ever been called a slut? 
• Who is your favorite woman who has expressed absolute lack of remorse regarding being promiscuous? 
• Are you a slut-say it loud and say it proud?

Stay tuned!

Zora Neale Hurston: Bad Ass Lil Adventuress

I just started reading a biography about Zora Neale Hurston called "Wrapped in Rainbows: The Life of Zora Neale Hurston". For those of you who are unfamiliar with Hurston, she was a novelist, folklorist and anthropologist who is well-known for having written the novel "Their Eyes Were Watching God".

On the first page of the biography, the author, Valerie Boyd, tells a story of Zora Neale Hurston when she was about nine years old. Boyd tells about the time when Hurston tried to convince one of her female classmates to go on an adventure with her to discover the end of the world by walking out to the horizon.

The two school girls decided that they would meet by the palmettos near Zora's house before they embarked on their journey. Before setting off, Zora's friend arrived and told her that she would not be able to go with her because she didn't want to get into trouble. The two friends fought, and Zora was heartbroken that she didn't have a companion to accompany her.

Later in life Zora stated, "I did not give up the idea of my journey. I was merely lonesome for someone brave enough to undertake it with me".

Story of my life!! You have no idea how frustrated I can get sometimes when I walk around in a world of chicken-shits who are too afraid to break any boundaries or go outside of their comfort zone! I'll set out on the road alone if I have to, but sometimes it is so much more delightfully fun when you have a partner in crime conquering the world with you.

Every Bad Ass Needs Her Very Own Ass Kickin' Socks!

Today @willingthrall on twitter sent me this pic of some "Bad Ass" socks that he saw in a store while he was on vacation. 

Prisoner of Words Unsaid

I've decided that I'll stay with the topic of freedom of speech that I've been obsessing over during this Independence Day weekend. So, I'll piggyback off of my last post about the Dixie Chicks and how their bad ass little country selves spoke out against president Bush. 

This spoken word video by Alicia Keys is about how we oppress ourselves by not speaking up and/or speaking out. It's called POW:

I've never been one to bite my tongue or hold anything back. It's my life long mission to empower other women who might hold themselves back from really saying what they want to say. Just say what's on your mind, ladies!!

Speak Your Mind-Whatever the Cost

I'm not a fan of country music and I most definitely know that the Dixie Chicks incident happened many years ago, but I figured that it would be relevant to rehash the incident this fourth of July weekend. So, I'll be sitting here thinking about free speech issues while the majority of the population is out partying and shooting off annoying fireworks.

For those of you who don't know, a number of years ago Natalie Maines stated at a Dixie Chicks concert that she was ashamed that the president of the United States (i.e., Bush) was from Texas. I remember being at work in the teacher's lounge at the time that the news hit. My immediate reaction was to think "Who the hell are the Dixie Chicks?" and then "Right on, Dixie Chicks". I was really impressed that they had said it considering that the country music scene pretty much includes a bunch of redneck-red-state type of folk. 

The reactions from other teachers were not similar to mine. I can remember clearly hearing other teachers say, "I'm never going to buy an album again from them!"  and all such nonsense. I also remember hearing, "Now is not the time to criticize the president because the US in under attack". All the while I was thinking, "Shit, I don't like country music, but I think I'll by their album now!"

After the comment was made, the media and small right-wing groups went wild with hate. Here's a disgusting clip from their documentary "Shut Up and Sing" about some of the media comments by some of those annoying hate mongers:

The Dixie Chicks were slammed in the media, death threats were made against them, and radio stations refused to play their music. Handfuls of djs across the country were fired for playing their music. After the fact, the Dixie Chicks stated that they lost half of their fan base as well as millions and millions of dollars. Throughout the ordeal those little bad asses refused to back down:

I haven't really bought a lot of music from them, but now that I'm thinking about it again I think I will check out what type of music they have online. I also plan on buying their documentary "Shut Up and Sing" about the debacle as well. It's been on my netflix list for a while, but I figure that I'll just buy it for myself since it seems to be an interesting documentary of freedom of expression. 

One song I'll be buying off of itunes that they made after the debacle is "I'm Not Ready to Make Nice". You can check out the video here. 

I hope you are thinking about the rights that this country was founded on during this fourth of July weekend!

The Lone Woman of San Nicolás Island

When I was a young girl, I really loved the book Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O'Dell, a story of a little native American girl's survival on an island after being left behind by the Spanish. I remember that I really admired the little girl for her ability to survive under such harsh circumstances.

It wasn't until I became a teacher and taught fourth grade California history that I realized that the book was based on a true story of a native American woman who had been abandoned on San Nicolás Island, one of the Channel Islands off of the coast of California.

There are many versions of the story, but they all begin during the era that the Russian fur trappers were brutally raiding the Channel Islands and killing the otter for their fur.  A bloody massacre between the fur trappers and island inhabitants occurred, with the island population dramatically decreasing from approximately 300 to almost 20 inhabitants. In 1835, Spanish missionaries arrived on San Nicolás Island upon hearing of the massacre, loaded up all of the "Nicoleños" and took them back to the Santa Barbara mission.  

Myth has it that a lone woman could not find her child on the schooner and jumped overboard in order to search for her child on the island. Other stories describe that the schooner hastily left the island due to a storm. Whatever the reason as to why she remained on the island, the woman remained alone on the island until when she was rescued eighteen years later.

In 1853, the woman was discovered alone on San Nicolás Island. When she was brought back to the Santa Barbara mission, she was unable to communicate with the other native Americans due to dialectical variations.  She died approximately seven weeks after being brought to the mainland.

I've often wondered what obstacles she faced being on an island by herself for over eighteen years. Although we will never know all that she went through, it's obvious that it takes amazing strength and perseverance in order to survive such an ordeal. She's one bad-ass survivor!

You Shouldn't Give a Damn About Your Reputation!

Tonight I was driving around on the coast and listening to the radio. The following song by Joan Jett came on, which I had totally forgotten about, and needless to say I am having flashbacks of the good old days when MTV actually, uh, played videos all day and night. Imagine that! 

Joan Jett and the Blackhearts: Bad Reputation

You shouldn't give a damn about your reputation either! I've always had a bad reputation, and if I listened to every rumor out there about me then I wouldn't be the bad ass bitch that I am today. Fuck what everyone says about you! 

Who Are You Calling a Witch, Bitch?!

I have been obsessed with all things "Wicked" for years. I read the book "Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West" a couple of years ago and I just absolutely loved it! I love women who are wicked, as well as those women who have been framed as being wicked. Let me tell you a little about the book:

Elphaba (who you know as the "Wicked Witch of the West") is wrongfully accused of being a witch-she was nothing more than basically a bad-ass little girl who happened to be born green (for reasons that you will just have to learn about later). People mistreated her throughout her entire life and wrongfully labeled her as being wicked because she was a little kick ass girl.

The Wizard in the land of Oz is basically a tyrant, who enforces segregation and more or less genocide towards the animals in the kingdom (stratifying animals into Animals with a capital a, and animals with a lower case a). At one point the animals became educated, and he is once again making them work back in the fields again. He forces the munchkins to labor, breaks labor unions, rapes the Earth for rubies, etc. Elphaba finally decides that she has had enough and she goes underground in order to do him in. No wonder they labeled her as a witch--Oz's very own revolutionary domestic terrorist!

Here is an excerpt from the first chapter that I really loved. Dorothy and the others are resting under a tree and the "witch" is on top of the tree listening:

"Of course, to hear them tell it, it is the surviving sister who is the crazy one," said the Lion.

"What a Witch. Psychologically warped; possessed by demons. Insane. Not a pretty picture."

"She was castrated at birth," replied the Tin Woodman calmly. "She was born hermaphroditic, or maybe entirely male."

"Oh, you see castration everywhere you look", said the Lion.

"I'm only repeating what folks say," said the Tin Wooodman.

"Everyone is entitled to an opinion," said the Lion airily. "She was deprived of a mother's love, is how I've heard it. She was an abused child. She was addicted to medicine for her skin condition."

"She has been unlucky in love," said the Tin Woodman, "like the rest of us." The Tin Woodman paused and placed his hand on the center of his chest, as if in grief.

"She's a woman who prefers the company of other women," said the Scarecrow, sitting up.

"She's the spurned lover of a married man."

"She is a married man."

The Witch was so stunned that she nearly lost her grip on the branch. The last thing she ever cared for was gossip. Yet she had been out of touch for so long that she was astonished at the vigorous opinions of these random nobodies.

"She's a despot. A dangerous tyrant,"said the Lion with conviction.

When I first read this over a year ago, I instantly identified with the Witch and fell in love with the story. Any woman in power has probably heard similar gossip about herself. This excerpt brings to mind something that happened to me about six months ago. I was coordinating a training for a couple of hundred teachers, and as I walked down the hall I heard two teachers standing in one of the rooms, talking about none other than yours truly. I swear that the excerpt is more or less what I heard these two teachers talking about. What really pissed me off was that these two teachers have asked for favors in the past.

I stood outside the room for almost fifteen minutes with the main reason that I would be there when they exited the room. I listed to them talk about what a bitch I was, how I was self-interested, only making them go to the training in order to justify my "over-inflated salary, how I date married men, slept My way to the top, was a lesbian (um, I thought I date married men?), control everyone, and the list goes on and on.

Long ago I used to let this type of gossip bother me because I used to actually want other people to recognize my hard work and dedication. Over the years as a manager, I have come to the conclusion that no matter how hard I work and how much I bend over backwards, some people are so miserable that they will do anything in their power to try to bring other people down to their level. The incident that I mentioned wasn't the first nor the last time that I have overheard people talking crap about me behind my back. I could give a rat's ass what anyone says about me now--I figure that if people are gossiping about you, then that pretty much signifies that you are pretty special.

Last Halloween, I went to see the musical "Wicked". I didn't care much for the musical, particularly because I thought that there was too much of an overemphasis on the "good witch". One song in the musical though resonated with me and it's pretty much along the same lines of not letting anyone bring you down. The song is called "Defying Gravity" and I just LOVE the lyrics because they are so powerful:

Isn't she a bad-ass? I really like these lyrics that she sings at the end:

So if you care to find me

Look to the western sky

As someone told me lately -

Ev'ryone deserves the chance to fly

And if I'm flying solo

At least I'm flying free

To those who'd ground me

Take a message back from me -

Tell them how I

Am defying gravity!

I'm flying high

Defying gravity!

And soon I'll match them in renown

And nobody in all of Oz

No wizard that there is or was

Is ever gonna bring me down!

I really love that message-I couldn't have said it any better! Tell it, Sista!

Unleash Your Inner Freak

I really LOVE the lyrics to the song "Still Dirty" by Cristina Aguilera. Here's a video of her singing the song in concert, as well as another song that I'm not familiar with.

Tales of a Wee Little Badass

Ever since I was a little girl I always had an obsession with women who were different than the "average woman".  When I was a wee little girl I was smacked on the knuckles by the nuns far too many times for asking why everyone always blamed Eve for everything. When I was nine years old, I was given a spanking at school because I wrote a paper in class that I thought that Adam was the weak one because he ate the apple and that Eve was merely curious. I was sent to confess my sins to the priest and was sent home for the day.

Growing up as a little feminist bad-ass in a Catholic school was very difficult until they finally ended up kicking me out, thank Goddess. From a very young age, I can remember asking my mother why the man was the one who led the services and not the nuns. I would constantly get in trouble when I asked questions as to why females were portrayed somewhat negatively in the bible. They tried to brainwash me, but I've been known to have an extremely strong character and thumbed my nose at all that they taught me about being a good little girl.

As a young Latina growing up in Los Angeles, I rarely had role models of women who rejected conventional gender roles. Most of the women in my immigrant neighborhood catered to their husbands and sons, my young friends catered to the boys in the neighborhood while practically doing backflips to get pregnant, and my teachers pretty much expected me to grow up and wipe a man's ass. Frustrating and depressing, to say the least.

The only refuge I had were my books and occasional shows on television. The first book that made my heart jump for joy about being a bad-ass little girl was The Paper Bag Princess. I've blogged about the book before, and the first time I read it as a child it was like a little light bulb went off in my head that I was not the only girl who was different than the others. It was the first time that I had ever seen a girl or woman who was portrayed in a powerful light. 

I later graduated to reading all of the Nancy Drew books, which I can't currently recall, but I remember loving as a child. I also fell in love with Anne Frank and Wonderwoman. I didn't have many other examples of strong, independent women and girls until I was in high school. After reading The Scarlet Letter in high school,  I made a pact to myself that I would never let anyone make me feel ashamed for my sexuality. The book The Awakening was the first time that I had ever heard about a woman who was not happy with being a wife or mother and would rather commit suicide than live a constricted life. 

These small little glimpses of unconventional women that I read growing up were life savers for me. Young girls who don't fit the typical mold can be prone to depression and might internalize that there is something wrong with them because they are different than other girls. 

I've been running in search of strong, unconventional, and diverse women for years. I look for them everywhere-in books, on television, in music, in real life and make believe. It's something that I need to nourish my soul on those days when I walk around and am reminded that I am different than the average woman in society. It's my own personal brand of therapy and sometimes the only thing I can do to maintain my sanity in a world of fools. 

Am I the only woman who was in this predicament as a child??