There’s something I keep noticing in culture, relationships, and myself:
Men are encouraged—even celebrated—for sleeping with many women.
But women? They’re judged for doing the same.
It’s a double standard that doesn’t just feel unfair—it reveals something deeper about how sexuality, power, and control have been shaped over time. And the more I sit with it, the more I realize: this isn’t just about sex. It’s about the way we’ve been conditioned to value, fear, and attempt to control feminine power.
Where It Started: Lineage, Stability, and Protection
Historically, a woman’s sexual exclusivity was tied to paternity and inheritance. In a world where bloodlines determined power and property, being sure about who fathered a child mattered—a lot.
So over time, a system evolved to prize women who were “pure,” “untouched,” or “reserved.” A woman’s sexuality was viewed not as her own, but as something that needed to be guarded—for the sake of family, legacy, and social structure.
At the same time, men weren’t held to the same standard. A man’s value was often tied to conquest, virility, and access. In many ways, male sexual freedom was woven into the identity of power, while female sexual expression was restrained in the name of security.
This wasn’t personal—it was cultural. It helped society organize itself. And for a long time, it worked. But today, in a world where relationships are more about connection than property, this double standard is starting to crack.
The Paradox: “I Want to F*ck You, But No One Else Can”
Here’s the part I find most revealing—and honestly, the most insane:
Many men crave sexually expresive and embodied women.
They want to be with someone who’s a lady in the streets but a freak in the bed.
And yet…
They judge the very thing they desire.
They want a woman who’s sexually alive—but also one with a low body count.
They want a woman who chooses them—but also one who’s never chosen anyone else.
It’s a paradox. A catch-22. A hypocrisy.
But why?
It’s more than insecurity.
It’s about control.
Somewhere deep inside, there’s a part of many men that still wants to “own” what they desire. That believes if she’s mine, then no one else can have her. That if she’s had other lovers, it makes her less valuable—or makes him feel less significant.
It’s not just about who she’s been with.
It’s about how safe he feels in his own worth.
Because when a woman is sexually experienced, radiant, and sovereign, a man can no longer define her. He can no longer use her sexual exclusivity to prop up his own identity. That can be threatening. Especially if he hasn’t developed a healthy, internal sense of value.
So the judgment isn’t really about her.
It’s about his unprocessed relationship with power, worth, and trust.
Today’s Voices Reinforcing the Standard
This paradox still gets echoed by some well-known voices—even those I respect. For example:
- Michael Sartin often teaches that women should maintain a low “body count” to preserve long-term relationship leverage—implying value is tied to exclusivity. It’s a view common in his larger mission of healthy masculinity.
- Hannah “Pearl” Davis (aka Just Pearly Things), a high-profile relationship commentator, echoes similar ideas—promoting low body counts as a marker of discipline and moral worth. Again, her message reflects parts of a traditional ethos I believe in—though this one passage, I think, holds women back.
While I have respect for Michael and Pearl and like many of their views, I see this is one view that genuinely undermines progress toward sexual freedom and equality.
By discouraging women from owning their sexuality, they—and others—are unintentionally reinforcing the very imbalance they’re trying to heal.
The Power That’s Been Suppressed
Here’s the truth I keep coming back to:
Women carry immense sexual power.
Not just in their capacity for pleasure, but in their energy. Their radiance. Their ability to move the world through their presence alone.
But that power has been misunderstood.
Feared.
Suppressed.
When a woman walks in full ownership of her sexuality—without shame, apology, or permission—she becomes untouchable in the best way. She’s magnetic. She’s not looking to be chosen—she chooses.
That kind of woman can’t be controlled.
She’s not easily manipulated.
She isn’t defined by what others think of her.
And for generations, that kind of woman didn’t fit the mold of what society was built around.
But that doesn’t mean we need to burn the past down.
We don’t need to attack how things were—we need to evolve forward.
It’s Not About Reversing the Roles—It’s About Returning to Wholeness
The real opportunity here isn’t about replacing one system with another. It’s not about vilifying the masculine or glorifying the feminine. It’s about recognizing that we’re out of balance.
The feminine hasn’t had the space to breathe freely.
Sexual freedom has not been equally honored.
And that imbalance affects all of us—men and women.
So the question isn’t just “How do we stop judging women for their sexuality?”
The real question is:
How do we create a culture where sexuality—when expressed with integrity and sovereignty—is no longer a source of shame, but of strength?
This is Part 1 of a deeper series. In Part 2, I’ll explore how women—often in response to this historical imbalance—have pursued the wrong kind of power in the name of equality, and what it means to truly reclaim their pussy power instead.
