I Could Lie And Say I Like It Like That.
It’s not often I let people in.
lol I’m kind of already started off on a bad note because I honestly don’t let people in. At all. Ever. I give the illusion of letting people in.
It is the reason why I can count the number of relationships I have had a single hand.
Honestly, I can say for certain it’s not even in my chest. It is locked far away where sometimes I cannot even find it.
It’s most likely somewhere in the deep sea. You know, where those terrifying creatures you see on like those Netflix series? With the light on it’s head – The angler fish? Yeah. Probably floating around down there with those.
I would say I am subconsciously protecting myself, but at this point in my life, I am very much aware of the whats and the whys.
All aspects of my person are given, at my discretion to others. And they are, at that, dispersed out no more than just a morsel. (Other than physically, but I’ll touch base with that one in a little.)
My personality may say otherwise; I am outgoing and exceedingly charming. You can see me dancing on Instagram to just about any song from artists such as the Beastie Boys to Kanye West.
I will also initiate a conversation with just about anyone. Which I probably get from my mother’s side, honestly. You’ll catch her conversing with the person bagging your groceries at the local grocery store. It’s super annoying when you’re trying to get the hell out of there, but you can’t say she doesn’t have phenomenal people skills.
I’ll even start telling you tidbits about a random trauma that perhaps happened a while back, but not enough for you to get to know anything truly personal about myself.
Nothing though that will establish a real connection between us.
I can’t do that.
I can’t just allow you into my person… in any way. If I create a genuine connection with anyone, that makes me vulnerable. I can’t have that.
The concept of vulnerability petrifies me.
At this point I can envision you rolling your eyes and saying to yourself, “Well, who isn’t scared to be vulnerable?”
Stay with me….keep reading on.
With the sexually encounters I have had with men and with women, you would presume I wouldn’t have an issue with vulnerability. The thing is, I don’t view sex the same as most people do.
Or in any way that society would say is “acceptable”.
What I am saying is that I can separate sex from love and love from sex. Well. That’s a story for another time. For now, I can separate the two.
You could attribute that to past sexual abuse. Or even with why I’ve had sex in the past (validation). Regardless, I do not have to be in love to have sex.
And to prevent myself from lacking any candor, I will tell you I haven’t fully let myself go entirely during a sexually experience because of my vulnerability issues.
Here is an example –
I feel that when people lock eyes during sex, it has moved passed that physical connection. And that is when that uncomfortable feeling with me starts to set in. So depending on where my comfort level with that person is, is how long I can lock eyes with them.
Truthfully, it typically is not very long.
And even when comfort level comes into play, I keep it short. I would rather not have it be too long. When it does, I start to disassociate myself entirely. Which ruins the entire mood for me.
I would rather just work my way to the orgasm.
There’s also another factor that comes into play. If I can feel them, actually feel them in any way, I let my eyes roll back into my head.
I consider myself somewhat of an empath (I just shut that part of myself off because it can become too much. I already have too much going on in my own head most of the time).
If my eyes are closed, I focus on the state of arousal. I can can be present in the moment; I can be one with my body instead of my mind or soul or heart. I can separate sex and love. Sex goes back to being just physical. And then I am fine.
My mind is safe. My soul is safe. I am safe.
I feel as if I am safe.
Well. I am single. A one woman show.
Alone.
Nothing hurts when I am alone
What can be better than being alone?
With love, comes heartbreak. Devastation. Melancholy. Regret. . and knowing myself, self destructive behavior. That list is endless.
And I anticipate this. I am unfortunately not without flaw, and let my feelings overwhelm my better judgment.
So as a recourse, I have developed defense mechanisms to prevent myself from feeling the sadness that soon follows the goodbyes.
While the last few years I have made attempts to connect with people by letting them in, I have failed miserably because I only gave them fractions. Whereas in my adolescent years, it was all fucking bullshit.
Trying to let people into my soul l i t e r a l l y feels like my soul is being taken from me.
It is impossible to find a way to describe the feeling without it sounding too fucking cliche.
It hurts.
terribly so.
I can say that I didn’t lock my mind, soul, and heart away like Aurora without reason.
Don’t read into that thinking I am saying I am some fucking damsel in distress.
I can take .. Well, I am learning to take care of myself. I am learning to love myself.
Slowly.
I have been hurt. I’m not saying any of you haven’t been dragged through the fucking trenches.
We have all been through our own fucking shit that we have to work through. It hasn’t been easy for anyone.
I just haven’t healed yet. And until I learn to work through the pain I have been through, my physical body is going to be the only part of my leaving the cottage.
. . . . . . . .
There were parts I omitted from this. I had it all typed and ready to go. Then went back to delete that shit. Why, you may ask, would I even include this in here?
Because it has everything to do with my level of vulnerability. I can only give so much at this point of my life. Social media has allowed me to do this, but at the same time, I can’t yet give my all. I am hoping at some point I will be able to put it all out there.
Though I feel the least I can do is be honest about that.
Blog. 