Summary

The author reflects on the societal double standards regarding women's reputations, particularly in relation to their sexual behavior, and advocates for a shift in perspective towards women's autonomy and away from judgment based on sexual history.

Abstract

The narrative begins with a personal account of the author's experience at age 13, when her father punished her physically for having a boyfriend, and her mother enlisted the help of a Catechism teacher to impress upon her the gravity of her actions. This incident serves as a catalyst for a broader discussion on the societal expectations placed on women's sexual conduct. The author critiques the pervasive notion that a woman's worth is tied to her sexual purity, a concept symbolized by a crumpled piece of paper that cannot be smoothed out, representing a damaged reputation. She points out the double standards and the self-censorship women often adopt to avoid being labeled promiscuous, emphasizing the need for open discussions about sex and comprehensive sex education that empowers rather than shames. The author calls for an end to the policing of women's bodies and sexual behavior, and for women to be judged on their character and actions rather than their sexual lives.

Opinions

The author views the societal preoccupation with a woman's sexual history as an unfair measure of her virtue and an impediment to true sexual autonomy.
The author believes that the societal pressure to maintain a 'good' reputation can lead to unhealthy self-censorship among women, affecting various aspects of their lives.
The author suggests that the responsibility often placed on women to uphold their reputation is a form of shame passed down through generations, perpetuated by women themselves.
The author argues for the importance of comprehensive sex education that does not perpetuate shame or stigma, but rather empowers individuals to make informed decisions about their sexual health.
The author criticizes the victim-blaming mentality that attributes sexual assault to a woman's attire, behavior, or sexual past, advocating instead for a focus on consent and respect for women's autonomy.

I Am More than My Reputation

More than a crumpled piece of paper.

It all started because I got a boyfriend when I was 13 years old.

My father had a large wood ruler, you know, like the ones teachers used for Math class.

When he found out I had been messing around kissing a boy, he grabbed his ruler and hit me with it, my back and left arm taking most of the punishment. I shouldn’t have been surprised since the same thing happened when my eldest sister got a boyfriend too.

We were a bunch of bad daughters.

Learn your lesson

However, that wasn’t the end of it. My parents needed me to really understand how bad my behavior had been.

Luckily, my mother knew what to do. She was going to require some backup, though.

As a result, on an unsuspecting morning, there was a knock on our door. Turns out, our Catechism teacher was in for a visit.

At the time, my sisters and I were doing our Confirmación, meaning, Confirmation. In a country as Catholic as Mexico, this is a significant step. It’s a ceremony in which you fully accept the Catholic faith; it’s supposed to be about you making your own choices instead of blindly following what your parents imposed on you through baptism. The fact that Confirmación tends to happen when kids are around 12 years old seems to be lost on most people.

Before the ceremony, you must attend several lessons known as Catechism. My sisters and I would go, dutifully absorb the contents, and then go back home.

When I saw our teacher there, I was surprised. She had never before visited us. In fact, to my knowledge, it was very unusual for Catechism teachers to go to students’ homes.

My mother called me to the living room and asked me to sit down. Then, my teacher started talking. She said she had heard that I had a boyfriend. She asked me to reconsider the long term damage this would have on me.

I just kept looking at her.

Then, she opened an envelope she had been carrying around and extracted from it a sheet of paper. “Look at what I’m going to do,” she instructed me.

She grabbed the sheet and crumpled it up until it was nothing but a tiny ball in her hands. She gave it to me.

“Ok, now open it up and try to make it as smooth as before,” she said.

I obeyed. However, no matter how hard I tried, even though I kept on flattening it over and over again, the piece of paper kept its creases.

My teacher looked at me and said, “that’s a woman’s reputation.”

Oh, for crying out loud!

I guess I could now go on and denounce the unfairness of the situation, or how no one should care about a woman’s sexual life to evaluate her as a person. But I know that would be naive of me.

People care about it — a lot.

The number of sexual partners we have had becomes a measure of our virtue. And yes, even a young girl can be harshly judged just because she kissed a boy. We adapt our behavior to keep people from thinking we are sluts.

The worst part? As we grow up, these feelings don’t disappear. We might proclaim ourselves to be progressive, to be women in search of our sexual identity no matter what. Still, at the back of our head, there’s that little voice that says, “Hey, gal, mind your reputation.”

When we least expect it, we drown ourselves in self-censorship. It has a pernicious effect on all areas of our lives. It mustn’t be known that we enjoy sex, or that we want orgasms. Our sex lives become a secret; to recognize these needs would be shameful.

I’m not implying that all people should openly discuss their sex lives with every stranger that crosses their way…unless they want to and the stranger is interested, of course. But I also find it unhealthy when sex becomes this clandestine thing we discuss in hushes or that brings up nervous laughter. How different it would be to have actual sex education, you know, the kind that empowers you and helps you stay healthy.

It is not lost on me the fact that women tend to be in charge of spreading this “lessons.” It is a torch of shame we carry from generation to generation. We are supposed to tell our daughters that they must keep their reputation away from the hands of boys.

At times, I delude myself into thinking some progress has been made, but then I hear people comment on the way women dress, drink, or even on whether or not their profile pic was slutty. In other words, if you are not careful, you could end up developing a certain reputation, one full of creases that will never fade away.

This only stops when we make it stop. When we stop policing women’s bodies and their sexual behavior. When we quit telling rape victims they basically asked for it due to the clothes they wore, the amount of alcohol they had, or the number of sexual partners in their past. When we see women as people whose reputation rests in the quality of their work and the way they treat others, and not their sexual lives. You know, as we do with everybody else…

We all are complex beings, and it is not up to us to judge anybody. This old-fashioned concept needs to go. My suggestion? Let’s crumple it up until it is nothing but a tiny ball of paper we can discard on the nearest trash bin.

That’s where it has always belonged.