Smart Swipe: An Exploration of College Hookup Culture

By Valerie Marie McPherson

Smart Swipe explores a subject rarely spoken of unless it is done so in hushed tones: sex.

Author Valerie McPherson wants to normalize conversations about sex, so she decided to focus on hookup culture on college campuses, which is where many begin to explore their sexuality for the first time as part of th

• Language: English
• Publisher: New Degree Press
• Release date: Feb 20, 2020
• ISBN: 9781641374224

Book preview

Smart Swipe

An Exploration of College Hookup Culture

Valerie McPherson

new degree press

copyright © 2020 valerie mcpherson

All rights reserved.

Smart Swipe

An Exploration of College Hookup Culture

ISBN

978-1-64137-420-0 Paperback

978-1-64137-421-7 Kindle Ebook

978-1-64137-422-4 Digital Ebook

This book is dedicated to the curious, to the adventurous, to the so-called overly promiscuous, to the outsiders, to the insiders, to the culture that shaped my passion for sex conversation. This is for the people in the back, front, middle and side.

Contents

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Prologue

Introduction

Chapter 1

The Questions

Chapter 2

Students’ Perspective

Chapter 3

Personal Stories

Chapter 4

Common Sex

Chapter 5

Female Empowerment

Chapter 6

The Only Option

Chapter 7

Why I Did ‘It’

Chapter 8

The Reality

Conclusion

APPENDIX

Acknowledgements and Sponsors

Prologue

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I was a sophomore in college when I had my first boyfriend. The feeling of having one was strange, and I wasn’t quite sure what I was supposed to do in a relationship. I thought real couples went on lots of cute dates and had fights but easily overcame them; I thought love would come easy. But that wasn’t the case for me. I was raised to believe I shouldn’t have sex until marriage, and to keep me from doing otherwise, I had a purity ring. But when I started dating my boyfriend, those values seemed to change, and my ideas on relationships changed too. And as for my purity ring...well, you’ll see.

* * *

This purity ring was a symbol of my innocence and, even more, a reflection of this purity culture we pressure women in our society to partake in. Notice that I say women, not men.

I agreed to date this boyfriend of mine after he checked off a few credentials. My ideal partner at the time had to be good-looking, polite, ambitious, well-mannered, and a car owner.

We met how a lot of college students meet these days—on an app.

This so-called dating app required me to swipe left to reject a person and swipe right if I liked them. This like was, of course, solely based on looks, because the most commonly featured bio contained their other social media accounts or a cheesy pickup line.

My then-boyfriend and I talked for a month, went on three dates, and after that labeled ourselves as boyfriend and girlfriend.

After two weeks of dating, I gave in to temptation.

My purity ring had been on my finger for eight years, and then—suddenly—it wasn’t.

* * *

Today, purity rings don’t seem to be used as often or criticized as much. But what we do take great issue with in our society is premarital sex. Granted, I had been in a relationship, but we weren’t married. It got me thinking, Well, why do we continue to look at men and women differently when it comes to sex?

* * *

Once I gave in, I craved sex like a drug. I wanted it all the time, and when I wasn’t doing it, I was texting or thinking about it. Strangely enough, taking off my purity ring felt like freedom. No longer was I bound to this circular object that sat on my finger, given meaning by the world. The very concept of a purity ring was socially constructed, much like how gender and sexual norms are.

Pretty soon, our relationship turned into grabbing a quick lunch and then having sex.

I came to the realization that my sex-driven relationship wasn’t as healthy or real as other relationships I had seen between so many people around me. So I ended it with my boyfriend, because I felt that I was being used as a sex object and that we no longer had any emotional connection.

But this next stage in my life was about to lead me down the same path, only in a different way.

* * *

After my breakup, I still desired sex. I wondered if I could just have sex with someone and leave it at that. Such an idea seemed odd, though. I was taught that women who had casual sex were sluts who usually garnered a negative reputation for doing so. But I couldn’t possibly be one of those women, I thought. I mean, I was driven academically and, for some reason, I thought these sluts were not. This notion frustrated me, because I knew for the most part men were able to sleep around with ease. But for women? Perceived promiscuity was a big no-no.

With all this in mind, I returned to this dating app seeking a new boyfriend. That way, I figured, I could start having sex again.

I ended up matching with an extremely gorgeous man who I found way out of my league and thought I had hit the jackpot. In my head, I envisioned scenarios involving how cute we would be if we dated.

When he messaged me, he asked to hang out. I immediately said, YES!

Little did I know that hanging out was not the same as going on a date. Yikes.

It was around 10 p.m. when he showed up to my apartment. In my head, I was wondering where we could go eat this late. He apologized for being late and automatically sat down on my bed, prompting me to do the same. We exchanged a bit of small talk, and then he made his move.

I didn’t reject it because, well, I was into it. One thing led to another, and we had sex.

Did I really just do that? I mean, at least he’s here cuddling me. At least he was better than my ex. All these new things, wow. Wait, am I a slut now? Ugh, he’s not even my boyfriend!

As we lay there talking, he asked me, Was I a good rebound?

* * *

I nearly choked.

You mean to tell me that he secretly knew my desires? He knew that my body wanted his? Was he even on the app for dating?

I laughed and sheepishly said, Yeah.

He and I met up a few times, and then he got a girlfriend after we didn’t see one another for a week. He had asked me to be his girlfriend—I had declined—after realizing that I wasn’t the only person he was seeing.

That whole time, I had been monogamous and only slept with him. Only texted him. Only talked about him.

You might be wondering, Why did you decline his offer of a relationship with this guy if that’s what you wanted?

Well, somewhere in between the sex, I realized we didn’t have anything in common. When we met, we didn’t talk about his job, goals, or family. We spoke about our sexual history and what we wanted sexually from one another.

Had I lowered my standards just because I wanted sex from him?

The answer: yes.

After he got a girlfriend, we stopped talking and sleeping together, so I moved on to the next. Only this time, I wasn’t emotionally invested, nor did I want a boyfriend; I just wanted sex.

* * *

In my head, I kept reminding myself, As long as my body count doesn’t get too high, I’m fine.

At first my number was three, then five, then seven, and finally ten.

Pretty soon, I realized I was hooking up with people. It seemed simple at first, and I honestly didn’t feel guilty about it.

My friends referred to my hookups as the hoe phase that both men and women are supposed to go through at some point in their lives before seriously settling down. And this phase was at its peak in college.

I didn’t like it being called a hoe phase because that implied I was a hoe. And I didn’t want to be associated with that term. I was confused as to what made someone a hoe. Was it the number of people they slept with? The quality of guys they slept with? Where they met the people they slept with? I had no idea.

I had sex with the same person more than once, but I didn’t really consider them a friend. So friends with benefits wasn’t the correct label, I suppose.

I came to the conclusion, then, that I was just hooking up.

As I entered my senior year of college this phase somewhat declined. I wasn’t interested in random hookups and now required more and more out of a guy before he could have the chance to sleep with me.

But I started to wonder about hookup culture—and if college enables students to hook up more easily with their newfound freedom and the prominence of social media. Maybe it wasn’t just college, per se, but the idea of personal freedom going a step further than I was thinking about when I left for college. It was that sexual freedom. A freedom in which we could finally have agency in.

I am writing this book because this phase of my life made me realize many other people are dealing with the same confusion and curiosity I did. In part three, I will revisit my own journey and the many obstacles I had to overcome to achieve that sexual liberation.

Introduction

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Sex

It’s a word that holds so much meaning but, depending on the context, can mean so little to a person. Merriam-Webster defines sex in many different ways—one of them being the sexually motivated phenomena or behavior someone engages in.¹ But what about the term hook up? Defining hook up is quite challenging, because it is used in many different ways by many different people. Merriam-Webster defines the verb hook up as a way to become associated, especially in a working, social, or sexual relationship.²

Bingo.

Hookup

The noun hookup is a fairly new and trendy term that has increasingly gained popularity over the years as dating norms in the twenty-first century continue to change and introduce ambiguity. People love using the word hookup, so much so it has almost become the new word for sex. For many, sex still seems like a vulgar topic to discuss openly in public, which is perhaps why the word hookup has become more and more popular. Is it also because, when an individual says it, you don’t quite know the extent to which they hooked up? It leaves everyone else pondering what truly happened with this hookup. For others, it’s a way to boost ego or reputation when they say, I hooked up with so-and-so.

Culture

The last concept I wanted to visit here is culture. Merriam-Webster defines culture as the set of shared attitudes, values, goals, and practices that characterizes an institution or organization. Another definition I wanted to include is culture as the set of values, conventions, or social practices associated with a particular field, activity, or societal characteristic.³

Hookup Culture

I will say that not everyone participates in hookup culture. Not every hookup is with a random stranger. Not every hookup is a one-night stand. And just because you hook up with people, it doesn’t make you a bad person. And yet, why do so many people seem to think that hooking up is a bad thing? What is it about the idea of hooking up that makes some people cringe but others feel freer than ever? Most of this phenomenon relates to the fact that, in U.S. society, we view sex in a negative light—and those who participate in it as deviants. That analysis may be a short and sweet way of summing up why we see hookup culture as an inferior way of life, but I wanted to dive in deeper.

While interviewing my peers about their experiences with and thoughts about hookups, I posed many questions to gain a broader understanding of the culture.

* * *

Deviance is a socially constructed concept, meaning that people in a particular society get to decide what is deviant and what isn’t. Deviance is attributed to any act or behavior that violates social norms, cues, or institutions and is thereby punishable in either formal or informal ways (Abrams 2016).⁴ Yet many people argue that college hookup culture is normal and expected, so is it really a deviant act?

The older generation seems to have this idea that hookup culture is new, that every college student is involved with it, and that those participating have no emotional attachments. I do believe you can take part in a way that minimizes risks, and at the end of the day, we are all humans with different desires.

What happens in college....

I realize hooking up happens in various age groups, but my belief that eighteen- to twenty-four-year-olds engage in this practice more often stems from one deciding