In case you are new to reading my blog, I might have a problem with revealing too much information. It is challenging to be reserved when talking about the intricacies of my past, current, and future sex life. I might have even crossed the line more than once. Sorry, Bobby. And as I keep writing, I am growing more and more compelled to be more and more vulnerable. Why?
I guess that was the point?
Not initially, to be honest. Vulnerable? Really? Open? In touch with my feelings? In a comedic blog? Can I get a “Hell No”? People want to be titillated, not enlightened.
But I can’t deny the turn this journey has taken. Here I was, thinking I could get away with telling funny tales about accidentally having sex when I swore I wouldn’t. Or, wax poetic about how “hard” it is to follow through with such a “crazy” life choice. The temptation. The lost opportunities. The countless disappointed parties. Disguising my feelings in elaborate quips and shoddy one-liners. But, as I sit here wondering what to write, I find myself asking bigger questions.
“What am I trying to prove by not having sex?”
“Is Celibacy not just the same problem disguised as virtuousness?”
“How has this year changed me? If at all?”
“What happens when I meet someone I like?”
“Will I really be ready for intimacy when it comes knocking at my door?”
I half believed I would fail at my mission and we would all have a good laugh about it. Admit it, you kinda were hoping for it too. Silly Devin, you can’t really change and grow. Sex will always control you, just like it controls everyone else, and there is nothing a little resolution can do to fix that.
But we are coming on September and I still sit here a re-virgin. And friends, I am as shocked as you are. My vagina is really pissed. But I’m holding my head a little higher. And wondering why?
I strongly believe that sex has become one of the many socially accepted drugs of our time. Being a sex addict is no joke, but it is still somehow cool. It’s right up there with alcohol, weed, and trash TV among American’s favorite trendy vices. People are even more willing to confess their sexual transgressions than own up to their “Jersey Shore” habit. (Which, just so happens to be my favorite, if not only, fix these days.) That shit is good! We, I feel like saying we because I know I’m not alone in this, use these things to distract us from the less than great feelings we face in our everyday lives. I have been running from these less than great feelings for quite sometime. Long deep sigh. Who wants to feel shitty when you can have crazy sex with strange men instead?
And giving up the highs and lows that accompany meaningless sex with dangerous men has caused these less than great feelings to surface in a big way. It was time. They honestly were not quite as scary as I thought they would be. And because I’m finally clear-headed, I can feel them, own them, be thankful for them, and let them go. I’ve been through quite a few tissues. Boxes and boxes. And will probably burn through quite a few more. But I hopefully will eventually move forward.
Stronger? Wiser? Hornier?
It’s hard to say. It’s really easy to break old patterns. Especially if you thrive in really extreme circumstances, like I do. The struggle is moving forward into new more healthy patterns. My younger sister gives me endless shit about my search for a boyfriend on-line. She is right for the wrong reasons. You can actually meet really great guys on-line. I have. But, I shouldn’t be actively looking for someone when I don’t really know what I want. Or who I am. Or know full well that I am not quite ready to be in a healthy intimate relationship.
My argument has always been, I’m not getting any better at this by not doing it. But, I think that is where I am really wrong. I’m also not getting any better at it by making the same mistakes over and over again. To quote the Millionaire Match Maker, another favorite of mine, “my picker is off.” Don’t believe me? Count the unavailable men I have written about in this year alone. Now, stretch that over a life time and you will start to get the picture.
Any psyche majors want to guess where all of this is coming from? I’ll give you a hint, it starts with an F and ends with an ather. Yes, the mysterious, handsome, charismatic man who supplied half my DNA did quite a number on me and my understanding of what love is and should be. That’s cold hard fact. The bright side is, I am now armed with that information and able to make informed decisions. Theoretically.
But theory and practice are two very different things. Maybe you can help me out with this one…
I’ve been on seven dates with someone. We clearly dig each other. But red flags abound. Why do I continue to see a man who is an admitted playboy? Why am I turned on by his proclamation that he doesn’t pledge allegiance to any one social group? Thrilled at his pseudo lack of interest in me? Releived that “fun” and “nice” is the way he thinks of me? Overjoyed that he tried to talk me out of my celibacy and took it as a personal challenge?
I am horribly conflicted. My gut tells me, Devin, you are doing it again!! But, I believe women love a chase as much as men do. We all want to be the one exception. If I can change my ways and be vulnerable with a man, maybe, just maybe he will be willing to do the same. One thing is different. I haven’t slept with him. And will not until I am ready. It still remains to be seen if he is willing to get to know me, and let me get to know him, more importantly. Will he still like me when he reads my blog? And finds out I’m not always “fun” and “nice?” Will he continue to see all the other girls he is talking to? Will he admit that he likes me? These are all questions I want answers to before I make any rash decisions.
It’s by far the most intimate I have been with a man in a very, very long time. And sex would have distracted both of us from this work. Because intimacy, if we are paying attention folks, is what I am after.
That might be TMI. But I don’t care who knows.
Categories: See Jane Give Up Dick