Privacy

(The following is a re-print from the blog My Life As A Serial Dater.)

It has been brought to my attention by more than one man (3 to be exact), that my sharing of "everything" is "too much."  I do note that men have told me this, because I have yet to hear this from a woman.  I have been told by an ex, a current and a friend that I have lost their respect or any ability to be taken seriously as anything more than casual sex or casual dating.  I have accepted what they say and tried not to pay it too much mind.  Every once in a while, in the depths of night, I worry that I might be alone forever.  That in writing this blog and making my sexual experiences known to all, I might be sealing my fate to never deserve the love and respect of that special someone.  It should also be noted that sometimes late at night I worry that the soda I drank earlier in the day will give me cancer.  Late at night, I am quite positive that I am going to fail all of my finals that are months away and I am sure I will never get a job.  This is the time when my mind plays tricks on me.

In the light of day, I remember that the reason I am not in a relationship is because I am not looking for one.  And that even though people tell me that I am fighting the instinct to settle down or that I am fooling myself, I know what I want.  Irrational thoughts have a time and place, so I save mine for the dark of night.  These are private moments.  Privacy.  This is what these men have told me I should be clinging to.  I should be retaining some scrap of privacy and maintaining some dignity.  So, I decided to take some time and put real thought into this argument.  Am I losing something by giving so much of my privacy away?

The conclusion I have come to is; I don't know that privacy really exists.  Think about what would happen if you died today.  Just suddenly.  No warning.  Bam ... Right now ... Dead.  Someone would go through your things.  Maybe your mother or your husband.  Someone would have to throw out your half used bottle of lube.  Someone would sort through your papers, go through your computer files, delete your naked pictures, erase your history, read your journal.  This might happen out of necessity to clean up or it might happen in an effort to get to know you better or to hold on to you once you are gone.

Letters Jefferson and Madison shared are actually referred to as "The Private Letters," yet, they are published and used in every lecture regarding the creation of the Bill of Rights.  They were only private in intent.  They were meant to be private, but eventually, it all comes out in the wash.  People read text messages and emails to find their spouse is cheating.  Kids stumble upon their mother's vibrators.  Parents search their kid's rooms for drugs and condoms.  Journalists and campaign workers work to uncover the 'dirt' on the opposition.

Young women have sex, believing that it is a private moment, only to have sex tapes revealed, pictures passed around school, stories told behind their backs and a whole slew of violations on their trust.  When their secret moments are revealed, they are called sluts and hoes.  They are laughed at and belittled.  And for what, for enjoying sex, for trying something new or even making a mistake?  Well, my sexuality isn't a mistake and it doesn't have to be that private.  I will wear a scarlet letter for some, but for others, this blog is just good clean fun.  I'm not the butt of anyone's joke.  I'm not disrespected and I'm not here to disrespect anyone.  

People have different reasons for keeping things 'private' and people have other reasons for digging that privacy up.  Sometimes it's intentional and sometimes it's accidental, but it can always happen.  I have spent my entire life hiding things and deciding that it wasn't worth it.  We all do it.  I hid smoking pot from my parents when I was a teenager for a bit, but eventually I just let it be known.  It was easier than hiding.  I knew they didn't approve, but hiding it didn't make it any less true.  I hid cigarettes from my sister for a bit, but then I just smoked in front of her and eventually I quit that altogether.  I have never cheated on anyone, because I can't fucking hold water.  I spill everything I do.  It's just me.  My sexuality and my love for sex were just the last thing to go.

I could have waited to be found out.  I could have written it in my journal or kept it in my head.  I could have acted like I don't love sex, but then I would either have to hide it or ignore that part of myself.  I didn't have to come out like this, granted, but why not.  My mama knows I am sexually liberated and she doesn't judge.  She doesn't read the blogs that are sexually explicit, because she doesn't want to know the details.  But she doesn't mind that this is a reality that exists, it just makes her a little sick to think about.  She doesn't judge it, it just grosses her out.  Fair enough.  So, if it makes you sick to hear the details, get smart like my mama and stop reading.  Otherwise, just enjoy it.  It's not a violation of my privacy.  If I want something to be totally private, I will keep it to myself.  But, for the most part, I want to share and I want to be open.  This is a learning experience for me and it's mine to share with the world if I choose.  My body is MY temple and my 'private' parts are mine to do with as I choose.  And, until Blogger says otherwise, I can share all I want. :)