I Can Do Both

Ah, Halloween. The one night a year when a girl can like a total slut, and no other girls can say anything about it.

If only dudes would follow suit.

Men in my DMs

In my experience, strange men say shit whenever and wherever they want. It didn’t matter if I was walking home from school in my uniform, running errands in a mask, or holding up my children’s book in a photo. None of those costumes stopped men from trying to look up my skirt, yell at me on the street, or call me slut on social media.

Last week a Twitter account called @OttawaDaddy (I wish I was making that up), commented on a post the Ottawa Catholic School Board made congratulating me on my book. Despite the content being geared toward child educators, @OttawaDaddy felt inspired to share his thoughts on my sex life:

“She also writes about her love of smut and vibrators,” he tweeted, solidifying his opinion with a link to the “Sexual Health” tag on my website and a photo of the catechism of the Catholic Church. The section he highlighted states that masturbation is “an intrinsically and gravely disordered action.”

Colour me disorderly.

The quote goes on to say, “In order to form an equitable judgment about the subject’s moral responsibility and to guide pastoral action, one must take into account the affective immaturity, force of the acquired habit, conditions of anxiety or other psychological or social factors that lessen, if not even reduce to a minimum, moral culpability.“

Let me assure @OttawaDaddy that I am both anxious and immature, so my vibrators should be cool with God. That said, I’d love to hear how he manages a masturbation-free life. If you’re reading, feel free to Tweet your tips to me and the school board. Seems appropriate since you’ve already started the conversation.

More men in my DMs

I kid, but @OttawaDaddy’s tweet immediately sparked shame. As someone who chooses to put my writing online, I’m more aware than anyone of the contradictions in my work. I also question if I can be a role model for children and share my thoughts on sexuality. He is likely the first of many that will have the same critique. Of course, I can’t write for kids. I’m too slutty.

As a Catholic school grad, I grew up believing that you can only be a virgin or a whore. Everything belonged in clean binaries: you’re good or bad, hot or smart, sexy or cute. No one gets to be both.

When we refuse to let women and girls contain multitudes, we force them into cages. That black-and-white understanding wears down our sense of self. We become restricted with narrow titles that are impossible to maintain. God forbid I enjoy sex and have other skills. What category do I fall into then?

For many of us, our “worst” quality becomes the marker. It’s the dirty part of you that taints to rest of your existence like a fly in a wine glass. Sure I write content for children, but I also talk about sex. Therefore, I’m a heathen.

The real irony is that my virginity wasn’t a choice. My first sexual experience was forced when I was a teenager, and I remember thinking I was tainted. I decided that, if I was already ruined, I might as well double down. I assumed everyone would expect as much anyway.

Until my early twenties, I touted the benefits of casual sex. I brought friends to buy their first vibrators and established myself as the group Samantha. For years I leaned into a persona where sex wasn’t a big deal and “slut” was a badge of honour. I wore that costume because I thought it was my only choice, and it was the only way I could grapple with my early experiences

As a married woman, intimacy has been hard. Time and security have forced me to recognize the façade I was living with. It can be overwhelming to think my entire sexual identity was something I just went along with. What do I actually like?

Girls have to figure out their sexuality while protecting themselves at the same time. We fall in love with fictional vampires and get our bra straps snapped in math class. We learn, too quickly, that getting off and getting murdered are only ever a few degrees apart. Who can blame us for growing into women who are confused, hurt, and scared?

Without smutty books, writing, and the confidence I’ve found in sexy dance classes, I would have struggled even more. I use writing as a place to unload the swarming thoughts that still make me feel not good enough and at fault.

This blog isn’t a flaw or mark on my morality. If anything, it’s my stain remover.

I don’t expect @OttawaDaddy to get that.

While I cried over the tweet, my husband joked, “I thought you would have endeavoured to have a scandal with the church”, he said.

I laughed because it was true. I’m resentful of the way my sex education was handled in Catholic school. Namely, it wasn’t. I walked into my sexuality entirely underprepared: I only learned that women could orgasm after I had been sexually active for years, I didn’t know what enthusiastic consent was or looked like, and we still hear stories of priests abusing the same helpless girls (and boys) they refuse to educate. How can we expect kids to make good decisions if we give them information in half-truths?

Conversations around sex are becoming more open, and I’m glad to be writing in that space. I want change, and I want people like @OttawaDaddy to be uncomfortable with it. Yes, I masturbate, yes, I think sexual health is important, and yes, I write great stories for children.

And, while you thought you were letting the school board in on my dirty little secret, you actually gave my own insecurities a voice I can respond to. To that voice, I’d like to say that I can do both.

Still don’t agree? Just watch.