When a new person asks how many people you’ve slept with, what do you say? But, more importantly, why does it matter?

I could figure out my body count (the number of people I’ve had sex with) if I really wanted to. I don’t, though. It doesn’t matter. What matters is this: have I engaged in safe(r) sex with my previous (and current) sexual partners? Do I have any transmissible medical conditions that a new partner needs to know about and/or be concerned about? Am I going to be a good sexual partner for this person?

Why do we attach such a status (or stigma) to the number of people we sleep with? Okay, sure, when I got married the first time I’d had sex with exactly four people (including my wife) and I thought I’d missed out by not sleeping around more. But as I got older, I realized that it’s quality, not quantity, that matters. I’d much rather have great sex with a few people than mediocre sex with a lot of people. I’ve been lucky that most of the people I’ve slept with can be classified as “great sex” — at least from my end. Hopefully they feel the same way about me (or at least consider me “good”). But I’ve also had my share of less-than-stellar sexual experiences.

Just telling someone my body count doesn’t take into account the quality of sex that I’ve had. It’s a number, and it’s a meaningless one at that. And, honestly, it’s usually just a certain type of man that’s obsessed with it — the higher it is for him, the better, but the lower it is for his partner, the better. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather fuck someone who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it, rather than someone who has less experience. These men most likely are afraid that their partners have been with men who had bigger penises than they themselves have, so by keeping their partners’ body count low, they avoid that purported problem.

When I’m sleeping with someone new, I don’t care how many people they’ve slept with. I’m just excited that they want to sleep with me. And that’s how it should be.