According to my brother, I am not a slut. It totally floored me when he said this, because ‘slut’ is one of those words which I have cheerfully laid claim to for a number of years.
I mean, of course I’m a slut (albeit an ethical one)! I sleep with lots of people, and get nude in public, and talk about sex all the time!
But no. My brother thinks differently. Which led to a fascinating conversation on Sunday morning.
Picture the scene. My brother, in t-shirt, jeans and slippers, a can of V in his hand, sprawled on one couch. Me, completely naked (because I’d just put my nightie in the wash, and Apollo was in the shower, and I was waiting for the shower to come free), sitting on the other couch and folding washing. And we were having a discussion about my sluttiness, or lack thereof. Anyone have a grin at that mental image?
According to my brother, who very definitely got his slut on back in the day (by any definition), I am not a slut. And the reason I am not a slut is because I don’t sleep with lots of different people. How’d you like that one? It seems that because I only very rarely add new partners (or lose old ones), I don’t get to wear the slut label.
(I refrained from pointing out all the people in my life that I consider kissing-friends, cuddling-friends, and beating-the-shit-out-of-friends.)
(I also refrained from pointing out that if I found more people I wanted to be in relationships with, I’d be adding new partners a lot more often!)
So, wanting clarification, I asked him. “If I was a swinger, or went to gang-bangs, would I be a slut then?”
“Yes,” said he.
“Huh. So what am I?”
He looked at me like I was an idiot, before responding with what was apparently the most obvious thing in the world to him.
And how could I argue that?