Here we are, dear readers, at the end of the year and the last of my short-lived series of columns. I thought it might be an appropriate time to address its name. In case you haven’t been paying attention (where have you been, for real?), my column is titled “The Ethical Slut.” Despite the fact that this is indeed “borrowed” from a book and not necessarily the most inventive name, I chose it for a very specific and strategic purpose.

I’m a big believer in reclamation, and this is a label I’ve now chosen for myself with careful consideration and deliberation. Maybe it’s important to explain my personal, self-defined slut. Firstly, the slut is not a bad person, amoral or misguided. Secondly, the slut is conscientious, healthy and aware of the risks and obligations that come with sexual contact with others. Thirdly, the slut works toward creating, maintaining and ending sexual relationships intent on respect, pleasure and safety.

The label “slut” is alive and well at Grinnell. As I’ve grown into my sexuality and become sexually experienced, I’ve been able to differentiate what is so often used negatively from my own idea of sluttiness and sexual promiscuity. Being aware of your needs and desires while remaining cognizant of issues of sexual health and violence is crucial to being a sexually whole person. If those needs and desires involve multiple partners, so be it. I don’t care if you have slept with 12 people or two, what’s important is taking care of your self—body, mind, and junk.

In my column, I’ve addressed issues that may be considered slutty—from making out with every member of your class in a pizza joint to intentionally leaving your best undies in someone’s room, from touching yourself (ooh) to touching others (ooooooooooooh)—but that’s the point. Every other week, I tried to emphasize that being healthy and respectful in your sexual encounters, with yourself and others, is the most important thing.

The senior class is just a little over a week away from graduating and going off into the big, crazy, sexy, scary world and the rest of y’all will be out there at least for the summer. We always talk about how special and different Grinnell is, and there’s always that weird, awkward and pretty heteronormative statement relayed to first-years that Grinnellians always end up marrying each other (also, why do they tell us that when we’re all 18 years old and already terrified of college?!). So if we really just can’t manage to date other kinds of people, it’ll be interesting to see how we do in the real world given how many of us will still be single when we leave this place.

I’m convinced that there are awkward, smart, self-deprecating, vaguely political but personally apathetic, horny people everywhere, although perhaps in lesser concentrations than at Grinnell. I’m also convinced that a lot of us just learn how to function in real life. It’ll take time to get back to comfortably, safely and discreetly being slutty. But almost everyone dates in the real world and, chances are, they have sex too. Of course, there is a danger to acting sexual outside of our small community, where the label of “slut” is wholly negative and sexist.

Navigating the sexual world beyond Grinnell will be different, where heterosexism and homophobia and misogyny are often less frowned-upon and more out in the open. But with the right touches of respect, safety and sensitivity, you can become or continue to be an ethical slut. Maybe you’ll change the way others view sexual behavior for the better and the ethics of sluttiness will prevail. I’ll certainly try to uphold the positives of this title and you can too.

I’ll miss this place and all of you. These last four years have taught me so much about myself, sexually and intellectually and emotionally and socially. Now I figure it’s time to go out into the world and work to find out who others are. So go forth, brave Grinnellians, and embrace the slut, spreading your love and joy and self-affirmation—but don’t spread anything else. A good slut uses protection.