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Let’s just say the sixties and seventies were good to me. I had a late-in-life baby and when she came of age, which I thought was 16 or so, I learned she thought coming of age was 12. So I missed the “first time” thing. I did tell her not to throw away her “essence,” not be too free with it. About five years later, she admitted she now understood that and I was right. Only thing I ever told her that got an acknowledgment. So, how many? Enough to get me through the lean times.
O.K. Well since you’ve asked…I lost count until I married my husband at the age of 42. I would not betray the trust and solidarity of our commitment. I know now that my self-esteemless, insecure, and (to some extent) undiagnosed bipolar disorder self made for poor choices that never did fill the gaping holes inside me.. Fortunately, AIDS was not around then and I did not get pregnant. My regret is not having put all that time and energy spent satisfying myself (none of my partners ever did complain!) into genuine interests like art and reading. The “sickest” part of this might be the time my (2) years younger sister and I had a conversation on this subject. It turned out that unbeknown to us, we had BOTH been sleeping with many of the same guys during high school…no, not at the same time!
Actually, thanks for the question. It brought back some interesting memories. Memories now and that’s how they’ll stay.
Now I didn’t tell you what I slept in. And I won’t tell you who I slept with. What I will tell you is that I have been surprised through the years at the assumptions made by people I know that I was secretly sleeping with various people. I think people are strange in this respect and will be cheered at imagining that you are having hot affairs with politicians or veterinarians when you are really just getting through the last Harry Potter book or learning to crochet. I can’t tell you how disappointed my various friends were to find out that I was not having these specific affairs. One even accused me of lying to her. I think this has something to do with the triumph of fiction over fact.
If I tell the truth here, I will be scandalizing 50-60-70-80-year-olds from coast to coast, but in a long lifetime I’d have to divide it about equally between men and women so I would say, half and half – about 20 people.
And I’m not bragging. I was married to two of them and I was deep into serial monogamy with some of the others. None of it worked out to my total satisfaction, but some of it was a helluva lot of fun.
The only things I regret, however, are the ones I was too shy, too reserved, too intimidated by or too busy to act upon.
Nature didn’t make us sexually needy for no reason. And, I’m not looking anymore, but on the other hand, I’m not dead yet.
If this was a men’s column, there would have been no words, just numbers. How different we are. I was a good wife for 9 years, wrong choice in husbands though. Was a little wild until I found him and in the last year, trying to get past him. Not proud of this number, no regrets though. It is what it is. At 45, I’ve slept with 60 people. Nothing against women, but they’ve all been men. Some one night stands but mostly I’ve been a serial monogamist with a short attention span.
As a late blooming repressed Catholic school girl with more fear than wisdom I can honesly say that I envy your number. It seems like just enough to gather some good memories and also be certain of what you don’t want. Never regret.
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