If you’re a good girl and you know it raise your hand

It's hard being a woman. It's even harder when society is constantly telling you how you should feel and act in public.

What does being a good girl mean?

Got an A on that test? You’re a good girl. Did as you were told? Good girl. Robin Thicke says you’re a good girl. Jennifer Aniston played a very bad girl in The Good Girl. However, every one of these girls is different.

Are you a good girl?

How does that make you feel?

A quick Urban Dictionary search reveals that it’s not just anatomy that divides good girls and good guys.

10 results for "good girl" – ranging from “A virgin that is a freak on the inside and hasn’t been let loose” to a girl that “says she won’t do shit, but insists on seeing your cock”. What?!

To put it plainly: if you present as a good girl in public, you’re probably up to some kinky shit behind closed doors. Like that’s a bad thing...

Two results for "good guy"  – one explains that good guys never get the girl because “the majority of women ... want to find muscular pricks”. The other refers to a bargaining term when conducting a sale.

So, regardless of the search term, it seems in some way or another, girls are generally bad. 

A lady in the street, a freak in the bed
This innocent, alliterated term has been bastardised and branded with a metaphorical 'A' because of preconceived ideas about faceted personalities.

Moreover, if a seemingly ‘good girl’ doesn’t present this dichotomous nature – playing it sweet in the street but not in the sheets - she is likely to be labelled a prude.

Who took ownership of this label and decided it was a front? Is it fair that the burden of proof lies with the good girls? Good girls can take on any persona they wish in the sack – and their librarian glasses, cashmere cardigans, sweet little A-line dresses and demure pumps have nothing to do with it.

Perhaps this presumption about good girls is because it’s easier to accept one’s own bits when we tell ourselves we’re not alone.

Taking it back
I reiterate: I am a good girl.

I generally play by the rules, I like to dress pretty, I like all sorts of pearl necklaces and the naughty things I get up to behind closed doors is no one else’s business.Perhaps I’m addressing daddy issues or maybe I haven’t lost that appetite to be the teacher’s pet.

Either way I like to be called a good girl. However, the term is mine. I don’t simply accept it – I demand it. I set its tone; I ascribe it meaning; I decide its trajectory.

I know I want it
So, I feel no guilt shaking my ass to Robin Thicke’s Blurred Lines and singing along to the admittedly crude lyrics that make me giggle like a little girl.

I am a good, good girl. I often do want it, but I do like playing coy. I’m impressed by men who can work out what I want.

The VERY CLEAR bottom line is this: I am what I choose to be. Those who think they need to rescue women from these “sexist” lyrics are exactly that – sexist.

It assumes that the women in question don’t want it – whatever “it” may be. I’m not assuming anything about women’s wants or preferences. I just think no one else should, either. We’re big girls capable of speaking and sticking up for ourselves, thank you very much.

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