So, sex. (We’re getting into it. Don’t read forward if you don’t wanna read about sex.)
Sex used to be one of my favorite things in the universe.
I loved it so much. I’m smiling literally in this moment writing this post, thinking back to my past feelings on sex – feeling wrapped in warmth and safety and happiness – as those are my thoughts about sex from 2015 and before – comforting, happy, all that.
But I don’t get to fully love it anymore.
Even when I am going off to have sex with someone I reeeeeeeeeeeally like – and someone who I know is gonna keep me safe… Even then. Even when I am so 100,000% on board… There’s a liiiiiiiittle part of me that dreads it.
“This is gonna be a struggle. What happens if I cry? What if I’m not sexy enough after being assaulted?” [Maybe a dumb thought, but one I have.]
Anyway.
It’s just – I have a very hard time feeling 100% present and happy – and 100% excited.
I can feel all the way up to 99% excited. (Granted, 99% is pretty darn good, I gotta say!)
But now, there’s always like 1% dread.
And I hate that. (Because any percentage of full-on dread sucks.)
And the thing I hate the most – the most – is the fact that I remember going over to sexual assault dude’s apartment for the first time… 4 days before I was assaulted by him for the first time.
But that first time we slept together?
We were both so excited. The flirting was happening oh so hard. The anticipation was palpable. It was 100% exciting. (I mean, I guess *technically* there was some nervousness – but the good kind. The exciting kind. Not the “oh my gosh, am I gonna freak out, or be safe, etc. tonight” kind…)
We texted (and even had little phone calls) aaaaaaall day leading up to it, anytime we had a spare moment at work. He actually worked from home that day, so he could clean his whole apartment, and prepare dinner, and all of that.
100% excitement. No dread. Just stoked.
And so one of my biggest fears is that the last time that I felt 100% comfortable with a man – 100% excited about a new escapade – when I wasn’t in my head at all, or worried, afraid, or even a little bit dreading it… What if the last time I ever feel that in my life is with that man?
What if?
It’s a terrifying thought (to me).