So if you were up late last night you might have spied a sex list I put up - inspired by a genius tweet I saw:
I took the list down but if you ask nicely I might let you see it. It’s actually not as long as I thought it would be?! Whether that’s because I’ve blanked a few names out, who knows… do two pumpers count?
Sex lists are funny things. I made my most definitive sex list while at uni - mostly to defend myself from the rampant gossip that I was a giant slag. My logic being that I could wield my diary high with it’s secret sex list in the back and say “see, look, it’s not that many!” to all of the naysayers (of which there were many) whom nowadays I would just tell to fuck off, but back then defending my shoddy rep was important, so ho hum. Separated by year my list included symbols for “minor rudies” and “well fancied” and was generally pretty cringe, but notable was the fact that I didn’t sleep with anyone at all for the whole of my first year. And there is a reason for that…
As a bit of a nerd (and the owner of a bell end haircut) I was incredibly shy around the opposite sex at school, to the point where I physically couldn’t talk to (or even look at) people that I fancied. In all other ways I was moderately outgoing so many people just took this to mean that I didn’t like them, when in fact the truth was the complete opposite! The cruel side effect of this malardy is that I was perfectly capable of talking to people that I didn’t fancy, so a lot (okay, all) of my early sexual experiences were with people that I didn’t like. Which is a shame. I wish I could have the experiences of my husband where he lost his virginity to his girlfriend and they waited and all that but I was just too shy for that shit. I lost my virginity at 15 to a guy called “Black Tony” who lived around the corner. I had met him the same day while riding my BMX through some alleys wearing massive baggy jeans and a knock-off TOMMY top (because I legit thought I was Left Eye from TLC) and after the deed was done he ran out of the back door telling me to “never knock round or call my house”. So I didn’t. I didn’t really like him so it was no big deal. To be honest I can’t even remember what he looked like. If you put him in a line up I 100% wouldn’t be able to recognise him. Funnily enough, he did knock round my house about a month later to ask why I never called for him and I told him to fuck off.
After that there were a couple more faceless/nameless people I didn’t like (“naked guy at party” anyone?) while I pined over guys that didn’t like me, but by the time that I got to university and was generally considered a bit more attractive than my Left Eye/Eunuch days I had decided that I wanted to wait for someone that I really liked, so I became a bit more selective. By that I mean that I would get off with pretty much anyone but I would only sleep with people that I really liked, which was easier said than done and involved a lot of disappearing acts as I decided that guys were “too slobbery” or “too hairy” like a modern day Goldilocks. I was adamant that I didn’t want a massive long sex list. I thought my existing 4 people was loads.
Of course, my shyness never really went away, I had just learned how to overcompensate and mask it with different fake outgoing personas. At university I was “Pink” the oversexualised stripper head of the cheerleaders and then later at FRONT I became “Sim-Wise” where my random outrageousness was just another way of looking at my escalating mental health problems. The pressure to always be ON, to be constantly ridiculous, to always be taking wacky pictures was just too Timmy Mallett for me. I spent a lot of that time off my nut but surprisingly, looking at my list for then, I wasn’t sleeping around. I suppose I could have done, but I was too scared.
You see, by the time I had a moderate amount of fame so that I could sleep with pretty much anyone that I wanted to, I was too battle scarred by my past run-ins to bother. It was hard to meet normal people and I didn’t want to bang celebrities because I kissed one once that turned out to be an evil pedo. I tried kissing girls but that didn’t end well. Band boys were terrible for my mental health as they cheat and don’t wash… also imagine being dumped and seeing that person on like, 3 different magazines covers? It sucks balls. So after a year or three of barrel scraping I finally met my fella and it’s been happy days ever since! The end of my list! Finally!
Having said that, I think as women we spend a lot of time worrying about our lists, worrying that it’s too long or too short. I don’t think it should really matter. If I could go back in time and tell myself anything it would be to not care. I don’t think a long list shows poor judgement, it just shows that you took more time to see what it is that you like. Now that I am settled I can wish half of those people weren’t there but at the same time, they lead me to where I am now. I could have easily settled down with my first boyfriend, but I don’t think I would have been as happy as I am now. I had to go through the pain and the heartache to come out of the other side.
So lists are kind of important, they’re kind of not. It’s good to know I suppose, for potential STD purposes.
I find mine absolutely hilarious.