My Friends Think I'm a Slut


How I deal with the people I love calling me a slut 

Slut. A derogatory term to describe a woman's sexual activity. Yes it is just a word, but some take the weight of this word serious and often to heart. We see the efforts of social campaigns like the SlutWalk, which began as a demonstration of women who are victims, thrivers, and survivors of sexual assault, and has gained a lot of attention with celebrities like Amber Rose getting behind the movement and making it her own. We talk about the word slut and how it affects us when strangers and the public use it to describe a woman's sexual prowl, but why don't we talk about when our own family and friends use the word toward us. 

As a woman with a thick, buxom, voluptuous, full body, clothing automatically fits me differently. That large gap that sticks out in the back of your pants because of your small waist. Hips being accentuated because of a form fitting outfit. Automatic cleavage despite what bra you wear. The list goes on and on when it comes to the complexities of having a fuller frame, which can be interpreted as attention seeking, thirst trapping, or, in particular in this case, being a slut. 

If my body shape wasn't enough to garner criticism and judgment, my love of makeup and ideology that heels are appropriate for almost any occasion intensifies the slut shaming. Every time I get dressed and feel happy with my outfit choice and hair/makeup/accessory combination, there it is, the word slut rolling off the tip of someone's tongue ringing into the hollows of my ears. And just as you were beginning to enjoy your high off your own supply, someone else's low and the possible idea of what they really think about you tears you down. 

While words have rarely hurt me—sticks and stones may break my bones initially comes to mind—the only thing worst than the slut shaming is the slut assumption. While we know the old nursery rhyme don't assume cause you make an ass of you and me, slut assumptions seem to only affect the accuse and not the accuser. I was being called a slut when I didn't have a boyfriend, wasn't dating, and spent most of my Netflix and Chill nights solo: I'm pretty sure this is the opposite of a slut and borderline prude. I think being referred to as being dried up or having a desert between my legs would've hurt me less. Ayesha, you got enough Cobb webs for any Halloween store. 

When you exude confidence, when you love the skin you're in, and when you, on top of that, look good doing it, it's not easy to continuously hold your head high and build yourself up especially when members of your support circle are among those throwing stones. When this happens what do you do? Who do you turn to? Who will be the one to tell you they're just jealous and actually admire you for your tenacity and how brave you are? You, that's who. And if that's not enough, I hope my words help you to realize you're not the problem. 

When we receive, or even witness, criticism about physical attributes and a person's appearance think about two things: one, is the person giving you their opinion someone whose advice, guidance, and words one you cherish and two, is there a pattern you see within the person when it comes to how they describe and talk about others? Could the banter stem from their own insecurities? I'm pretty sure the answer to the first question is no and the answer to the second is yes. 

Now that you know where the criticism stems from, take it as a learning lesson. I'm not saying this is a lesson to teach you how to dress around people that are insecure or by any means limit your greatness and beauty, rather it's a lesson on self love and self awareness. When you're in tune with yourself nothing else matters. Another lesson that can be taken away is looking outside of yourself to diagnose the real problem: you inspire people and they just don't know how to articulate it. 

The next time you hear the word slut, think about this acronym: sis, lovin ur 'tude. 

With all my love,
A single girl