memoirs of an almost ‘virgin’

i think i’ve grown bored with sex. not the act itself, but the idea of the thing and what we do with the idea of it.

as a woman i must expect to be beaten like a slave, mash up til i can’t walk and somehow smile about that in the morning. roughness has its place but honestly, must my pum pum be utterly destroyed at the end of every sex act? can we be nice to the vagina?

as a woman i must expect to represent everytime i jump on the dick, i have to prove myself by doing various things in a crowd and to the point of gagging just so the man knows i appreciate his penis. yes, its  a flag raised in triumph at the base of my now conquered vagina.

i suppose its a bit simpler in lesbian relationships, there’s slightly less historical garbage to contend with, different things to prove. but for women trying to negotiate heterosexual relationships there’s no seeming end to the madness.

and i’m bored with it.

tired of all the acrobatics that are required

and the inevitable performance anxiety

and what i perceive to be an unavoidable let down for everyone who isn’t dating a gymnast

because as much as people want to talk about how dis good up and dat can quint and xyz will mek yu tremble and how dem a go sen it up inna yu tripe.

most women aren’t doing their kegel exercises and most men don’t have the upperbody strength to do half of what they claim they plan to do.

so what we are left with are some ill executed attempts at these acts coupled with a lot of acting and a high probability of muscular strain…i suppose being hunched over in the morning because you sprained something is proof that you were beaten like  slave…kunta kinte couldn’t walk either after his whipping, but is that really what we want to aim for?

add to that the fact that the boundaries of the relationship are bascially a barbed wire fence made of sex and money and what you have is the woman trying to perform various acrobatic feats in return for nails, hair, clothes and, perhaps if she’s savvy, a car and an apartment. me nah judge dem.

i do my own hair and nails, live with either my mom or a roommate (depending on the country) and don’t need help buying clothes.

what now?

caw we just learn each other’s body now?

can i touch you because i like the feel of your skin now?

can i rub my hand along your skin without overthinking the right angle for poking my ass out, without wearing heels, without strategically placed moans to convince you that your body is the most amazing thing i’ve touched….despite the fact that we just started and i’m not even excited yet i’m moaning…why am i moaning!?

i’m not saying that aesthetics aren’t important, arch what needs to be arched. and when summn sweet yu, moan. but the level of required performance has hit porn star levels 24/7 365

i’m bored with it

more than anything i’m bored with the fact that we’ve swallowed this and are now spitting it back at each other without even thinking about it.

pun intended.

i don’t think we actually consider what we like in sex

more importantly i don’t think we actually consider what the people we’re sleeping with like in sex

and there’s really no space to figure it out

maybe when you’re 16 there’s space for you to be uncertain and maybe need to learn a few things

once you hit 19/20

you better be the buddy mechanic. when it pop down a you fix it.

and i think it’s the same for the men as well. if yu flip yu flop and yu name gone a road.

if him can get it up a your responsibiity fi put it down


as yu touch har she mus wet up

and heaven forbid you’re a woman who doesn’t produce an ocean upon first kiss, summn mus wrong wid yu.

i’m not sure if its because i was born by C-section, maybe i left my dick manual in the womb, but i really wasn’t born with a user manual for peen. despite that fact the assumption seems to be that i must be some kinda pole expert….with an mobile pole…you know what i mean

so it’s not about sharing our bodies, touching you for your pleasure as well as mine

its about some strange competition using tools we don’t even know how to work

and with no option of learning on the job because everyday is a performance review day

and the boss is a jerk-off

so what now?

now, i am bored and tired

now i am 30 going on off the calendar and losing patience with the impatience we have towards sex

and each other

and the ways we don’t create spaces to teach as well as learn

you do not know my body

you will not know it the first time you encounter it

there are a few go-to places you can touch that should work

but otherwise you will have to put your nose to my skin like a book by lamp light and learn me

and i will have to do the same for whoever i choose to have sex with

seemingly learning is impossible past 20

based on all the conversations and songs and general ignorance i’ve encountered

and i’m tired of the second guessing and wondering and worrying

only to realise that the one in front of you

is just like the last one

its not cynicism

its fatigue

and boredom

of the same

if i could get a message out

to all the people having sex

and especially the girls who are a little older

a little newer

and a little less sure


the message would go primarily to the one’s who’ve been doing it for a while

and who think they know

you don’t know

and the person in front of you

doesn’t know either

take the time to know them

and give them the time to know you

it’s not a competition

its a thing you do so you can enjoy someone

and they can enjoy you

calm down

slow down

and begin again

About the author


Carla Moore is a Jamaican geek, mongrel dawg lover, and general mout-a-massey from the Jamaican countryside. When she nuh inna dance a faas inna people business she can be found trying to do di people dem school work, bigging up Jamaica all over, or pon smaddy stage sumweh a nuff up harself. She fight fi wah fi fight fah and love all.