To prepare for a column in the upcoming Free Love issue of Time Out, I’ve ordered and read this book called The Ethical Slut.

I first heard of this book almost a year ago, and found the title - and concept behind it - intriguing (as would most people! They did a damn good job naming it.) The book begins:

If you ask about a man’s morals, you will probably hear about his honesty, loyalty, integrity and high principles. When you ask about a woman’s morals, you are more likely to hear about who she fucks and under what conditions. We have a problem with this.

Me too.

The sad thing is, as I turn the pages in this book and read rational, peaceful, accepting statements I theoretically believe in, like “sex and sexual love are fundamental forces for good - activities with the potential to strengthen intimate bonds, enhance lives, create spiritual awareness,” I am extremely aware of my own discomfort - and am surprised by its force.

Since when did sex become so scary to me?

The truth is, I don’t believe I have a “healthy” sexual outlook. I’m concerned I’ve shut down my sexuality as a defense mechanism. If I don’t have sex, no one can A) call me a slut or B) hurt me.

Georgetown certainly has something to do with my constipated sexuality - I distinctly remember a girlfriend of mine there telling me that she was “the biggest slut in her family” with “two notches on her lipstick case.” Sigh. That crap sinks in.

But you’d expect that after four years of living in New York, I’d let go of some of these traditionally conservative mores. Uh-uh. The exact opposite. If anything, as I get older, I become increasingly less sexual, a direct result (I think) of having been burned by men, of wanting to avoid judgments of strangers and men trying to use me as a conquest.

It makes me a little sad, to be honest. I’ve basically shut down my sexuality to protect myself.

The Ethical Slut says that we should “question all the ways we have been told our sexuality ought to be, so we can begin to edit and rewrite our old tapes.” They write that this is both “freeing and empowering.”

What resonated with me was their compassion and care for other beings:

It is very important to us to treat people well and not hurt anyone. Our ethics come from the empathy and love we hold for those around us.

Being a slut doesn’t mean simply doing whatever you want, whenever you want, with whomever you want.

Most of our criteria for ethics are quite pragmatic: Is anyone being harmed? Is there any way to avoid causing that harm? Are there any risks? Is everybody involved aware of those risks and doing what can be done to minimize them?

And, on the positive side: How much fun is it? What is everybody learning from it? Is it helping someone to grow? Is it helping make the world a better place?

The way they write about sex is very positive, very loving, a complete 180 from how I view it (inherently dangerous, to be avoided at all costs). Honestly, if all men I dated treated me with this much respect and love, I’d probably have slept with a lot more of them!

What are your thoughts? Email me or reblog this.