Good Girl Bad

If I could tell you just one thing, it would be that I tried.

I’ve gone to church my whole life. I was raised with the threat of hellfire hanging over my head. I volunteered in my youth group, sang in a church band, and ditched the first really close group of friends I ever had because they were into partying, drugs, and sex.

I went to a Christian college. I read the Bible from cover to cover. I volunteer at a Christian not for profit, and work at a church.

I tried.

My entire life has consisted of me fighting my inner nature, trying to be something I’m not. All in the name of a god I’m not sure I believe in anymore.

I am ridiculously sexual. I have been for as long as I can remember. I was taught to put my sexuality in a compartment, and only let it out within the confines of marriage. So I got married.

And what I found, after 7 years of marriage, is that something so volcanic and potent can’t be contained and it can’t be denied.

I am sexual. I have desires, fantasies, needs.

I have discovered that morality exists not in black and white, but in shades of grey. I am giving her up, the good girl. She was an utter fabrication, a desperate attempt to be something I’m not.


The other night I was talking to my best friend, conflicted. Wondering if I can do what I’m planning to do. Wondering if I can take this risk.

“I just want to be happy being monogamous,” I said.

“I don’t think you do. I think you want to be someone else.”

She said it perfectly. I have always wanted to be someone else. But after 27 years, I’m still me: Lusty. Insatiable. Horny as hell.

Good bye, good girl.

Here goes. . .

3 Comments on “Good Girl Bad”

  1. Obviously I’m checking out your blog, but wow can I relate to this. So so much. I see things that I’ve never seen within myself before. I look forward to reading more. 🙂

  2. I love this post. One of the best I have read yet. It is such a good description of your trip. I can relate for so many reasons (father as a preacher, etc)…..In the end, the monster has to be fed.

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