Today, in response to my post about keeping sex complicated, I received this comment:
Idk Dahlia, from the cover of your book titles, they come off as sexual and “asking for it” , very confused, I was looking at your Bio you’ve published books like “Seduce Me’ and “I’e been a naughty girl”
And you’re writing this article and complaining about easy sex? Seriously ?? -_-
(I preserved the typos for authenticity and because I can’t resist a little snark.)
Humor aside, unfortunately, I’ve heard this often enough that I feel compelled to respond properly.
First of all, I totally understand. It’s one of the main reasons I stopped putting that side of myself out there. Why I stopped writing and performing and cleaned up my metaphorical act. (You can read all about that here.)
But then I decided that I wasn’t going to let people’s quick and easy assumptions dictate how I live my life. So I was just going to be me and let the chips fall where they may. And by chips, I mean dudes, and by fall where they may, I mean say what they’re gonna say.
Yes, many people have assumed that, because I write about sex, I’m an easy lay. However, when informed that it’s not the case, the mature/appropriate/sophisticated response should be to accept it, to actually dig deeper and find out why, to make oneself worthy of the scenarios and escapades that appear in my work.
(Forgive me for being a romantic idealist.)
It is very dangerous to make assumptions like that in general. Even though I know people do, that doesn’t mean we should encourage and condone it. This tendency toward pattern and roboticism deprives people of surprise and pleasure and experience. It’s also ignorant and superficial as all hell.
If someone raves about a pizza, it doesn’t mean they’re face down in a large pepperoni 24/7/365. This whole idea that you can’t have an up-front conversation, or create a work of art or literature, about sex without having it assumed that you’re sex-obsessed is so tired, so ridiculous, so immature, so uneducated, so 1950s.
Yes, I write about sex. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to do it with you, whenever you feel like it. It doesn’t mean I can’t keep clothes on. Because I can.
And if anything, because I write about sex, it means I’ve got an excellent imagination–and you better be half as good if you’re going to get my attention.