I want to apologize for my absence but I was very ill and swimming in the bullshit as per usual. I mean my dating life is dry as fuck but there are those moments where I find myself in a shit storms of my own doing. You would think after kissing countless frogs, bums and undesirables, I would have the common sense to not even look back. BUT, your girl is nothing if she’s not consistently making BAD decisions about the men she chooses. It’s always risky when you allow someone who’s hurt you to come back in your life, because 9 times out of 10, they’ll screw you over in the exact same manner they previously did. And yes I got burned yet again by the same loser. I’m obviously a glutton for punishment but it’s also made me wonder why I decided to give him another chance. I don’t think my level of desperation has sunk that low (yet..) but I think I was mesmerized by the fact that he was crawling back to me (who doesn’t like to see a man on his knees) and that he had rehearsed his little presentation quite well…
So in a effort to be less antisocial than I’ve been, I decided to join other millennials in search for…well I’m not so sure what yet, but at the very least a warm body to come over once in a while and promptly leave just a quickly as he came (pun fully intended…yes, I’m gross but you already knew that…). With the internet making physical human interaction as so accessible, we are living in world where more than half of your social circle is either on Tinder, Grinder, OK Cupid, Bumble and the ever, cringe-worthy POF ( I apologize to divorced soccer moms, weekend dads and sexy, single grandmas everywhere…but come on!). With all these tools at our disposal, it should more than easy to troll for your next victim. But as with everything related to the internet, Those dating sites are littered with thousands moronic assholes who can barely spell but can’t help let their inner misogynist/xenophobic/racists monologues in your inbox…What the fuck is a girl to do?!?!
WARNING! Do not read this at work, or at the very least, don’t leave it up on your screen, because today we’re talking about one of my favorite subject: KINKS! OK, so if you were to look up the definition of kink; it pretty much refers to bizarre (YES!!!) and unconventional sexual preferences or behaviors (DOUBLE YES!!). Now I personally think that kinks are a normal part of sexuality. Everybody has something that they enjoy and that they feel somewhat ashamed for liking (that guilt…). Movies and TV shows have normalized “Vanilla Sex” because it looks pretty and obviously there are many things that you can’t show (unless you’re living in France…Lucky bastard/bitch). But through this conditioning, most people have now accepted that missionary and cowgirl are pretty much the positions that most people know and stick with. Which again is fine…well, not really but I mean people like what they like. But what happens when you’re someone with an insatiable appetite for weird, an open mind and willingness to try new things (Always try everything once…well, at least twice) and you are dating a “vanilla person”? How do you broach the subject of butt plugs with someone who things using lube is caused for alarm (yes, this is real story…it happened to a friend of a friend of mine…)? How to do you tell Vanilla that you like all the flavors and then some?
As someone who dates (a lot), I often hear other friends who date (a lot) either complain that there is no one out there for them (7 billion people and really no one…how that math/logic works, I dunno but they swear…) and that they will end up alone for the rest of their days. I’d like to be the good friend and remind them they will never die alone and that I’ll be around to identify their remains once the cats have fed off their decaying carcasses. It does little to comfort them, but at least I’m trying. Obviously, my sense of humor leaves a lot to be desired but it does raise some serious questions for those of us who are in their 30’s or further along, with no kids or spouse in sight. Why are we so scared of dying alone?
Can we be real with each other? What is it with guilt that drives people to recoil in the fetal position the minute they try to be a little more selfish? Can’t we put ourselves first? Men do it all the time (Penis firs though..) but as women we’re so constantly worried that people will see us as self-centered or acting in self-interest. We’re ready to prove them wrong even if it means that we’ll spend the next 30 years miserable, just so Mr. Smith and his dick can be happy…Is devotion really worth the mental anguish and the constant self-doubt?
The fear I’m feeling right now, is slightly paralyzing. I’ve been siting at this computer for over an hour, terrified of outing myself. Scared that the ones that were the closest to me had no idea at the time and still have no idea. I’ve carried this “thing” for almost 5 years now and the burden hasn’t gotten too heavy…yet! I’m outing myself today because after talking to someone close to me about the very subject, I found myself shocked that I didn’t see the signs, especially since I lived it. I hid the fact so well that no one knew that I was in abusive relationship for 5 years.
I know it’s been while since we’ve spoken, but I’ve been trying to enjoy my summer. It doesn’t mean the last few weeks have been drama free or scourge free (what can I say, mama is a magnet for bullshit these days). In all the ups and downs in the last few weeks, one constant has remained the same: Sex, or more so the lack of it. If you’ve read any of my previous posts, you know that I believe that everyone should be having sex. And not that mediocre, that last 5 minutes, shitty sex. I am talking about sweaty, orgasm-filled, liberating, wanting-to-tell-the-mailman great sex. Of course I know that one’s inhibitions can usually dictate how good or utterly wretched the sex will be. But what happens when you put your good intentions out there and you get basically nothing but a laugh from God and perhaps a new vibrator from a concerned friend (Hi AG)…