Why Being A Mild Slut In College Isn’t A Bad Thing

B. Hoota

Mild Slut

Noun: a girl who grills the hell out of first and second base but doesn’t actually sleep with her boy toys.

In this era of anti-slut shaming, the title above should make every feminist drunk with progressive joy. I’m not advocating for college girls to sleep with every male who makes eye contact with her. Rather, a girl well-versed in snogging, flirting, and ghosting is the ultimate success during these helter-skelter years. I tip my hat and bid good day to those satisfied, stable couples, but that lifestyle isn’t for me and most of my girlfriends. However, sleeping around in random dorms isn’t our forte either. The dawn of a new “college girl” stereotype is approaching, one in which an intelligent, sexy, and ambitious girl dates around without the emotional or physical baggage. Being a mild slut from ages 18 to 22 is stellar and here’s why: we can figure out what kind of boys we like (and dislike) physically and mentally, 2) we ditch the emotional commitment of a long-term relationship, and 3) we experience college on our terms, exploring personal interests without the drag of a boyfriend.

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At 19, no one knows what they hell they’re doing in relationships, life, classes, or anything. Therefore, testing a few lips and personalities saves us the trouble of long-term dating fails. Mild sluts have a prime window of experimentation, figuring out what we do and don’t like in potential significant others. Preferences morph, so the neighbor boy who was sexy in high school might resemble a farmer-tanned gnome now. Might as well waste sexual angst in college before divorces and alimony become the realities of adulthood. I’ve kissed nine people so far, so I know what words and actions make me blush or regret saying yes. Before college, I was convinced blond-haired boys with blue eyes were the only ones worth looking at. My high school checklist was a) plays an instrument, b) got a higher score on the SAT than me, and c) likes art and traveling. I was shallow in my younger and more vulnerable years. It was only through experimentation with a variety of people that I realized standardized test scores didn’t correlate to a crush-worthy mate. Now, I want someone who is creative, someone who will make me laugh and joyride on my crazy adventures with me. This process of eliminating “suitors” also helps girls in detangling their own confusing lives. Because of my mistakes, I’ve become more attuned to who I am as a 4’11 shorty.

Next, slutting it up with mild sauce allows girls to forgo the commitments of a long-term relationship. Truly “being with” someone is difficult; it’s relinquishing your whole self and fusing it to another person. Movies romanticize this idea of two becoming one, but it’s a scary concept of sharing your individualism with someone who isn’t you. Girls often become pretty appendages to their boyfriends, nothing more than dolls who follow their boyfriends’ aspirations and desires. College girls deserve to preserve their identity until the Mrs. steals it away—hence, the mild slut. I despise hookup culture, but this fine distinction between hooking up and tonguing a few guys is important. Sex creates connections, no matter how shallow or deep they are (just watch Friends with Benefits). The emotional commitment, even if “boyfriend/girlfriend” isn’t Facebook declared, is still there. Kissing, on the other hand, is less penetrating emotionally (and by definition, physically). Girls forget their first middle school kisses more easily than the guy who speared their virginity. With kissing, time isn’t wasted on damaged feelings (he doesn’t want a second date?!) when it should be spent on calculus homework. Those feelings still exist, but they are temporary and forgettable compared to intercourse imaginings.

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Finally, being a single-and-not-sexual-mingle allows girls to experience college the way they want to. I am convinced I wasn’t a person before college. I can’t fathom sharing my character-defining nights with an SO; I wouldn’t own those memories or make decisions based purely on my instincts. Especially in younger years (freshman-sophomore), relationships dictate the social life of the people involved. Can’t join this club because there’s too many guys? Fine. Can’t go to St. Augustine this weekend because you’re busy with your guy friends? Okay. The rest of life will be spent with another human, so value these alone years and do whatever the fuck you want. Study abroad in Berlin, get baked with friends in a tree, or write scathing satire. As a single extrovert, I flit between guy groups, clubs, and Snapchat interests because I’m not obliged to answer to a boy. It’s fantastic. It’s lonely. It’s freeing. The mild slut is an expert at getting off with cute boys and not answering to their clinginess later on. She dictates her own novel, placing male punctuation where she needs a good action verb—but she’s the author, not her boyfriend. However, let me be clear: girls should not be teases. It’s the whole pleasure principle without actual sex—and University gals should ascribe to it. Boys are ridiculous—why should I tie my body and thoughts to just one when I’m 20? As I said before, I disdain hookup culture and think sex should be reserved for a serious someone, not a run-of-the-mill acne boy. If you meet that “serious someone” in freshmen year, fuck all day and good for you. However, the chances of meeting the right “serious someone” are slim, so just snog the third floor cutie without giving him sex and your emotional fragility.

My words betray my disdain and disappointment with guys—and it’s true, most of them are immature nothings at 19. However, being a mild slut should fade once the diploma is framed and the 1040 is filed. College is such a delicate, informative time for girls; our tastes are changing, our body shapes are fluctuating, and our friendships come and go. We need to scrap this idea that boyfriends define our personalities and embrace mess-around singleness for what it’s worth.  We’ll end up with “the one” eventually because of all the shit we trudged through to find him.

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Vanessa W
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