Women can do just about anything a man can do—except sleep around. I’m sorry, ladies. I know some of us give Mother Nature the big, stiff middle finger and try to prove her wrong by being as nonchalant and unfettered by that sexual/emotional connection as the fellas are. We can pick up a phone and dial up a booty call with the quickness and high five ourselves for throwing back on the opposite sex all of the grimy wheelings and dealings they’ve been doing behind our backs since ... well, good ol’ Father Abraham stepped out on Sarah.
But we’re just not wired to bedhop and bump nasties and do the horizontal cha cha slide without developing some kind of attachment to a jumpoff or racking up a whole heap of baggage from adventures in promiscuity.
I’ve seen it attempted and failed too, too many times. It starts off as just casual sex. Next thing homegirl knows, she's trying to talk him into spending the night and engaging him in a little post-coital pillow talk. Then, before she figures out what’s really good, she’s wondering what he’s doing during the day and calling him for reasons other than inviting him to travel down to her happy place.
Every time they have sex, she grows a little bit more and a little bit more and then just a little bit more attached to him until, woe is her, she’s smitten. Especially if he’s got good sex game. Meanwhile, he can’t zip up his Levi’s fast enough to abort mission via the closest escape route.
It’s not surprising at all that getting caught up in non-committed sexual relationships would shape a full-blown depression in us gals. A man can be a ho and live a life that looks like something out of the MTV reality lineup, even as a 30- or 40-something bachelor (which is, nonetheless, pretty pathetic). Women can try, but we’re more likely to end up dissatisfied with our whole lives in general if that one part of it—our sexual relationship—is jacked up. There’s a lack of control there that grinds our gears.
If we want a new car, we can get it. If we want a new house, we can buy it. But getting a dude to willingly shift his role from thief in the night maintenance man to a locked down partner in a committed relationship? That doesn’t happen often. I don’t care what Pretty Woman, No Strings Attached-inspired mess Hollywood has presented as an option. The chances of a relationship making that transition and surviving are slim. Not non-existent, but like Calista Flockhart slim.
Research shows that gals in monogamous relationships who’ve had just one sex partner over the last year are happier, shinier people than the other segment of the population who are dipping into the community pool of multiple-partner naughtiness on a regular basis. It didn’t take a long tussle with statistics or compiling facts and figures for me. It’s called common sense. I always end up being the shoulder that gets called at 2 a.m. to cry on when one of my friends’ attempts to be the new Samantha Jones crumbles like a shattered cake of pressed powder. That’s because we keep trying to go against nature and nature keeps rejecting that attempt like John Wall smacking a rebound out of some poor soul’s hands.
Sex, for women, is all tangled up with intimacy, and the lack thereof—and the inability to give of ourselves emotionally and connect with our partner on that level—when we're tossing our cookies all around town doesn’t give us an opportunity to build a giving relationship. That’s otherwise known as a big, fat waste of time. I’m not saying there are women out there who can't do and haven't done just that successfully. I know some personally. But eventually, it usually boils down to wanting and needing more. And if your mental and emotional health are on the line, I think sleeping around is a move we shouldn’t even try to make.
Do you think it’s possible for women to separate emotion from sex?
Image via theogeo/Flickr