Can everyone stop sharing their sex rate?

I never thought I would use the term ‘in my time...’, but now I do. Because ‘in my time’ we had sex (yes really, it existed back then too) but we only gave subtle hints about it to others. Yes, with girlfriends, the wild nights were elaborated on and every detail was magnified and every problem analyzed, even down to positions. But further, if someone asked what your sex life looked like, you would only drop a significant “I have nothing to complain about”. Or your cheekbones would turn a few shades redder, but otherwise, you kept that to yourself.

Nowadays, the motto seems to be not only ‘if you can still have sex, then join in’ and ‘if you can talk about how often and where you have sex, then definitely share’.

Take for example Katja Schuurman in JAN. Beautiful shoot, nice interview. Honest too. About drugs (finally a VIP who admits to occasionally ‘consuming’ something), but then the chapter on intimacy comes up. That after two and a half years they still have sex every day. I don't find that special at all. Especially not if you're Katja Schuurman. On the contrary, she would fall from her pedestal if she said that she usually watches a Netflix series in sweatpants with a cup of hot chocolate together with Freek. Netflix series Katja says in JAN that after sex it always seems like the light has come on a bit. I can imagine that. In fact, I picture Freek and Katja sparking and having fun until dawn and the light actually being on.

Freek, who appears today in the fresh Vogue Living, also says that sex is what binds them. I get it. You have the hottest and most fun woman in the country, all the men are watching you with a string of drool coming from the left corner of their mouths. He does, that's all they can think. Enjoy it, have fun, and especially have a good time together.

Last night I found myself flipping through the wonderful world of Barbie. Ex Michael stopped by. Whether she was still single. “Yes, but I'm having sex,” she shouted to him from the kitchen while she was making a sandwich for her son who was sitting on his father's lap. Wokeee. Later we saw Michael picking out furniture. The question was what a couch had to meet. “It has to be comfortable, and I have to be able to have sex on it.”

When he chose a black one (so a couch), I almost wanted to tweet him some advice from my couch. That he probably shouldn't do that. In connection with ‘having sex’. That cream white is technically safer.

Moral of May: I think it's all very nice that you guys are having wild sex like a couple of rampaging rabbits. Nature designed it that way, it's free and healthy. I wish Freek Katja and I wish Michael and Barbie all their escapades (whether or not on the couch), but if it's the most normal thing in the world for you, then you don't have to throw it in my face unsolicited. I know people who poop multiple times a day. Or eat a sandwich multiple times a day. Or vacuum. They keep that to themselves too. We know it now, we like it, and now it's enough. Even if it's just to not make others even more jealous of you (Yes Freek, I'm talking to you) than they already are. Just say that you can play patience with Katja so wonderfully and that weeding the garden together is your favorite pastime. We won't feel frustrated (do we have to do that too? Do you know how BUSY we are?) and the men won't be jealous. And Michael and Barbie, well, what should I say. Something with a white couch and definitely not using the n-word where your children are present. Thank you.