The antithesis of being sexy and slutty

I’m in a silent war with my closet

Becoming a woman is hard. There’s just so many rules to it; rules made by your mother, your aunts, grandmothers. Everyone tells you how to be a “good” woman. We get lost we forget who we are. And who we are is reflected in our style, our personality, and our sexuality. When we forget that, we dress the way we think we should dress. We feel ashamed of showing skin, wearing a mini skirt, or even using bikinis at the beach (this is how I felt with my body and my clothes).

A little biology recap, sexuality is the way people express themselves sexually in every way including emotionally, socially, physically and I think through our style. So, as I grew older I got to like myself more, became my own best friend and figured out my style. But I felt very repressed and judged by my family when I chose what to wear. I would feel sexy and hot, thinking I was showing a mysterious side of myself, but when I got those looks by my mother and sometimes grandmother, I’d feel ashamed and slutty sometimes (not in a good way). I would love my cute little tops but when I wore them, I would instantly try to hide my boobs. I’d be harsh on myself and think, “why do I have to be like this?”. I would feel anxious by the anticipation of their judgement. I felt that I would lose respect from others because of those voices and looks of my mom in my head. It’s like my own enemy would remind me what they’d think of me every time I wore something I’d like.

I thought of throwing away my clothes, but what I didn’t realize is that this big ugly issue had to do more with my self-esteem and self-respect than with them.

I would talk about this with my therapist and I’d assume that she’d agree with my mom but no, she made me shift my perspective entirely. She once said, “your personality is being sexy, you like to show cleavage and use tops that show your figure because that is you.” You’re not slutty, you’re sexy! She’d say it in an enthusiastic way so I would agree with her. She told me to think of celebrities that have a similar body type as mine (meaning, have boobs) and that embrace them while looking sexy. I looked up some pictures of Salma Hayek and Sofia Vergara. Then my therapist asked, “do you think they’re slutty for showing off their body?” and honestly, I didn’t think that of them. They looked hot and gave the energy I was giving. They showed just the right amount of cleavage, and I think that’s the big difference in dressing sexy versus dressing slutty. Slutty is just too much. Slutty is like having a really big, special, mysterious gift and showing it right away. It’s not a surprise anymore, it takes away the enthusiasm. Sexy is the right amount of skin, it radiates with your persona. It’s a way of being, of talking, walking. It’s mystery. Burning red.

My therapist taught me to understand that my mother won’t always be right. Even though we look up to our mothers and listen to everything they say, they’re still humans. Humans that never fully know it all. Mothers were raised with particular analogies, and they’ve concluded that in order to live life the “right” way, you have to follow their own set of rules. And what makes those rules the truth? Who knows, and frankly I don’t think they know either.

Now, I still feel like that sometimes but then I remember there’s an art in not taking things personally, of not feeling offended by conservative opinions. That no matter if mothers or grandmothers think I’m slutty, I should still be genuine to my style and myself. When you feel more comfortable in your own skin people start respecting you more. I noticed this when I started to take less account on my mom’s comments. She later understood that this is what makes me, me. I didn’t have to explain this to her, because I already had the approval I needed. My own.