“Interesting,” I replied, “you’re like the fifth person I’ve had sex with… this month.”
(Technically, he was the fourth but since earlier that day I’d told him I was never one to let little things like “the truth” get in the way of a good line, I’m leaving that as is.)
He didn’t ask me what my actual number of partners is. Which is good. Because: a) it’s no one’s business and, more importantly, b) I literally cannot answer that question.
I deliberately decided a long time ago, that I was uncomfortable keeping up with the number of people I’ve had sex with – not because it was such a huge number, and I was embarrassed (it is a bigger than average number, but I’m really not feeling that shameful about it) but because all of my partners have (or, at least, had) meaning to me. They’re people – some of whom I loved a lot, some of whom I explored my kinks with, some of whom I could count on to listen to me talk about feminism at 2:00 in the morning while running to Taco Bell because loaded potato grillers are my weakness – all of them are people that I still have too much respect for to treat as notches on a bedpost or numbers on some scorecard. None of them are fucking trophies (Get it? Cause we’re talking about sex so “fucking” trophies? Just me? Ok.)
I occasionally come across articles on the internet that talk about how women have to deflate their “number” to be attractive – unless their number is too low – then they need to inflate it up a smidgen. Men are supposed to inflate theirs as well. According to the “rules of how people work according to Cosmo” I should have freaked out that he’d been on the planet over three decades and only slept with a few people. Instead, I was like, “Well, he made the choice to not have sex until he was ready which is awesome, and then his marriage was monogamous which is what worked for him and his wife so that is also awesome until recently when they decided to open things up so a lower number makes sense. And either way, I don’t care.” Because I don’t.
All I care about when it comes to his past/present partners is “Did he treat everyone respectfully?” and “Does he think the people he dates are obligated to have sex with him?” (The latter one falls under the first one, but I always care about that specific question.) But the specific quantity of partners he's had? I can't be bothered to care. Numbers don’t matter.
The point is, own your sexuality, and, as it harms no one (that didn't consent to it), do what thou wilt.