Typical
I'm a terrible pretender. I can't sit here and act like I give a damn.
I'm a firm believer everything happens for a reason. Sometimes I don't always know those reasons, and I wouldn't pretend to. Yeah, it would be great to have all the answers like some people do, apparently, but my journey's not quite that simple. Thank God. My parents moved me to Oklahoma when I was seven years old. It was for a reason. On the surface, it was for more money. We got more money. We got a brand new quarter of a million dollar house. We got private school education. We got brand new cars. And we sold our souls to the Baptist Bible Belt. I still haven't figured out the real reason I'm here. But I know part of it, at least, is to learn. To learn from people who are different than me, who think differently from me. To learn that I am different from them, and to value those differences. Sometimes that gets hard. But only when it gets personal.
The last seven years of my life have been very difficult ones, and yet very profitable ones. I have learned many things. One being how to handle incredibly painful situations without losing my soul. Two, learning who Ashly is and being comfortable with that person, in and of herself. Three, learning to love others even when they hurt me, understanding that most of their actions come out of pain.
Most of the time I want to lay my heart out, open for the world to see and I offer it as my truth, take it for what it's worth. I try to be open and ask people to understand. There are those, that for whatever reason, don't look closely enough, and make misjudgments about who I am. This is nothing new to me. When you grow up in a state that is predominantly Baptist, and your last name defines who you are for most of your life, you get used to people thinking their opinions of your life matter for some reason. I've never quite figured this out. In my younger years, I always thought people were just jealous. People I'd never even met in my life hated me because I didn't speak to them when I passed them in the hall. So people making judgment calls about who I am, how I am, is nothing new at all to me.
It's always been personal. The attacks have always been directed at the most intimate and personal parts of my life. And this is because I open myself up for people to know, to understand. And with the good, comes the bad. There are people in my life who know me. Who make an effort to see past the flaws and appreciate the intimacy that comes from being honest and real with people. Then there are those who read my blog. And for whatever reason, that becomes who Ashly is in their eyes. Words on a computer screen personified. It's interesting to think you could define a person by a web address. But in my circles, you also get defined by who you know, what music you listen to, your opinion of who's talented and who's not, and on and on and on. And apparently you get defined by your alleged sex life.
It makes me sad that there are still guys out there that think because a girl likes to have sex, just like he does, that she's a slut. I mean, we've never actually defined slut. How many guys does a girl have to sleep with to actually be a slut? Is it a physical action, or is it a mindset? Does having sex with lots of people make you a slut, or does merely liking sex make you a slut? It's a good question. And I wish the people with all the answers would answer this one. Because I'm curious. Because if you wanna talk numbers, let's talk numbers. If not, please expound on your rationale that I am "slutty."
I just wanna say a few things in closing, one: you don't know me, so until you do, back off on the name calling. Two: take up golf, go jog around the block, invest in some good porn-- do something to take your frustration out elsewhere. Three: I find it interesting that someone I have never had even the least sexual thought about or contact with finds it necessary to talk about me in a sexual way. Who's the slut now?
