There never really is a good time
There’s always nothing much to say
Pretty good, not doing that fine
Getting up most every day
An excuse is all you’re in for
The abuse is all you crave
Sure you know just what is in store
Wait and see if I’ll behave
– Dinosaur Jr
I have always been self-deprecating. It’s easy when your own father routinely called you ugly or said you’d be lucky if someone wants to put up with you. It does explain the “approval” sought from “men” in college.
I have moved past those daddy issues but I feel like I have always been accommodating to men and trying to please them. Discounting my professional success or accomplishments, downplaying my intelligence and highlighting my tits and sexual ability.
Many do not know there was a tumblr blog prior to the girl. It was my dirty little secret as I would only follow, never hit the heart button as the perfect, well-behaved wife and mother in me didn’t want to leave a trace. It was a blog purely for me to discover what turned me on as I had hid my sexuality for so long I didn’t know what even turned me on anymore. It did lead to a more robust sexlife, but I still regret the fear that made me “smash that cache.”
The main blog came after I started to express that I needed sex. It was after a long period that I was ignored in my marriage; he would say (and maybe he was correct) that I ignored him first. Playing the role of perfect, leaves very little time for your costars. Tumblr was fantastic as I didn’t need to fuck anyone to get attention and it normalized my view that craving sex was acceptable as we were all there for a reason.
Post divorce, I had a loose view on sex and men. I never met anyone that I felt invested in. I learned, or thought I did, that I didn’t want to be in another long term relationship where I felt “less than” my partner at the start.
However, I made the cardinal mistake to fall for the fuckbuddy and I have discovered that with him I have fallen into traps I believed were long-past their shelf-life expiry date.
Our relationship spin cycle is more regular than my period. We get close, we part, rinse and repeat.
With him, I have challenged my need for PDA. Now I can sit at Happy Hour staring straight ahead with the best of them as I have accepted he’s private. I have learned I will only meet friends of his that I may eventually fuck. The list is endless but doesn’t make me feel pretty, desired or good.
But I loved him, to be clear I was not in love with him. I enjoyed his company and tried to make myself available to him even when I felt squeezed in on his busy to do list. Honestly, no one wants to feel that way but I accepted it and made excuses for it.
Where it hit home the most was watching Chris Rock’s latest standup. I know many just sped ahead to the Will Smith bit, but I watched it all and he did a part where he said he can’t remember all the girls he fucked but he remembers the few girl’s who he held their hand as they were different. He held my hand once, but maybe it was me that held his.
So today, I want to change. I probably will slip but I want to change. Baby steps right?
And if you wondered, you were totally smart to skip ahead in Chris’ latest special…😉
– The Girl
PS – I hope to post more smut in the future….
The Girl You'd Never Guess 