Good Girl BadPosted: June 2, 2013
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.
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. . .