“I heard some guy was intimate with her while she was bent over the kitchen counter,” said Mark.
“Okay, but—”
“And she’s been with nearly every guy at the hostel. It’s disgusting.”
We were sitting in a courtyard filled with food trucks near the ruin bars of Budapest. I was in the midst of a year-long solo adventure around the world. Mark, from Australia, was also exploring Europe on his own for a few months.
As I listened to him talk about this other woman, I reflected on all the men I’d been with during my travels so far. It had been three months, and I could count seven, including him…
In Malta, there was the charming blond Argentinian in the hostel showers. In Pisa, a romantic Italian construction worker who adored opera. Then, there was the athletic German I met on the beach in San Sebastian. We couldn’t communicate verbally, but our bodies spoke for us.
In Barcelona, I had a rendezvous with an older Belgian man — we were intimate in a castle during a rave. And just the day before I met Mark in Budapest, there was a handsome Portuguese business student. We shared a moment in his hostel bed while his friend slept above us (he assured me it was fine).
But I didn’t share any of this with Mark that day. Instead, I munched on my veggie burger, lost in my thoughts.
She could have easily been me.
I reassured myself that I wouldn’t have engaged in what that girl in the hostel had done. And while that was true — I wouldn’t have participated in something like that in a kitchen — I realize now that separating myself from her was arbitrary. She could have just as easily been me.
I should have supported her. I should have defended her.
In the end, we were all exploring intimacy in that hostel. Mark, myself, and seemingly everyone else there was indulging in such experiences. That’s just what happens when a group of young travelers gathers together in dorms and shares drinks.
So who was anyone to judge her?
I should have said all of this to Mark that day, but instead, I succumbed to my fear of being judged and kept quiet.
Many of us, especially those from the millennial generation or older, have received incredibly mixed messages about our views on sex.
On one hand, we embrace sex; it’s celebrated to “get laid.” We live in a hookup culture.
On the other hand, there’s a stigma attached to those who engage with many partners — we often view them as morally lacking. We tend to think that those who embrace kink or unconventional practices have something wrong with them.
We gossip about them behind their backs. We shame them.
Women, in particular, are criticized for being too reserved and simultaneously for being too promiscuous.
Not long ago, my friends and I would worry that our “number” was too high. With each new partner, we felt our worth as individuals diminished.
There was even a 2011 movie, “What’s Your Number,” that perpetuated the idea that a woman with more than 20 partners would struggle to find a husband — a notion so flawed it’s hard to discuss.
And yes, I’ll admit that sex can be messy, regrettable, or careless. It can lead to STIs or be a means of exerting power or escaping awkward situations. Too often, it’s imposed on someone against their will.
There are many wrong reasons for engaging in sexual activity.
But at its core, when approached consensually and safely, sex is healthy and beautiful.
We frequently overlook this narrative.
So, I’m sharing my story here. I had intimate encounters with 16 men during my year abroad, and it was incredibly beautiful.
Though these interactions were brief — just a few days at most — they were impactful and genuine.
We were free to pursue our desires without the weight of future expectations. We embraced the pleasure our bodies could provide. In getting to know one another, both in and out of the bedroom, we enriched each other’s lives in unforgettable ways.
How dare anyone judge me for that?
How dare anyone judge that woman in the hostel?
Sex is a gift, an escape, a meditative experience, a way to step outside of our minds and simply be.
Osho said everything beautiful is rooted in sex — a bird’s song, a blooming flower, a ripe fruit. The most vibrant experiences in life revolve around reproduction, aka sex.
So why is human intimacy so often regarded as something shameful?
Ultimately, society isn’t embarrassed by sex because it’s dirty; it’s dirty because we’ve allowed shame to take hold.
Let’s break free from that shame. Let’s stop fretting over our numbers. Let’s celebrate sex for what it truly is. I had intimate encounters with 16 men while traveling the world, and it was beautiful, dammit. What’s your number?
This post first appeared on my website.
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Summary:
In a year of solo travel, I experienced intimate encounters with 16 men, reflecting on the stigma surrounding sexual freedom. While societal judgments often lead to shame, sex, when consensual, can be a beautiful and empowering expression of human connection. It’s time to celebrate our experiences and let go of the fear of being judged.