On Sexual Power and discovering it

No longer having a steady relationship to dedicate my brain space to has left me feeling odd, both physically, mentally and frankly also emotionally.

I got back on Tinder about a week ago. And I’m still not sure if that was a product of boredom, impatience or simply needing validation from the opposite sex. It’s likely a mix of all three.

The experience to date has been extremely gratifying. I sort of forgot that other men look at me, because with him I didn’t notice so much. I only wanted him to look at me. And so I forgot that I was attractive and desirable with a fiery personality and deeply sassy attitude. The past week I have been repeatedly reminded, and it is unbelievably easy to get drunk on that feeling.

I took a leap of faith, challenging myself to go out and meet people, and met a guy I’d been talking to during the past week. He is a few years older than me and not interested in anything serious. I would not be required to commit to anything, or really give anything. It sounded perfect. We went to a bar having a salsa night where we danced badly to gorgeous music. I don’t think I have laughed that hard or freely since before my ex and I started to break down nearly two months ago.

We talked a lot too. I watched him sucked in by how little I cared. How little regard I had for others in a one nighter situation. He was so enraptured in my ability to tell a guy that he was shit and no I didn’t want his number. I had found out the previous night that this ‘fuck you, I got what I want’ attitude I carried pre my first relationship still existed. I had a fresh, funny and scathing story. I have never, ever been so self aware of the effect I have on others. People have ocassionally and casually told me that I do this, but I’ve never believed them until now.

We ended up at a shitty club in Fitzroy on a couch, where he didn’t feel me up so much as run his hands over me sensually. Almost massaging me, pressing on my trigger points and waiting to feel my muscles relax. That one is new to me and it was magical and something everyone should experience. My body reacted in the right ways and briefly I actually wanted him. Briefly.

I will get drunk on this now that I see what I can do. I will seek out men to dazzle them, take what I need and never think about them again. If I am not careful I will begin filling my missing pieces in this manner.

This is probably the most self conceited piece of writing I will ever produce, but the revelation was stunning for me. Because I saw that I don’t need him at all. And I believed for the very, very first time that I wasn’t the only one who was at a loss. It is his bad and his absolute loss to have just walked away.

 

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To text him, or Not to Text him?

I broke the first rule of break ups last week. I texted my ex.

The reality was that I’d spent two weeks toing and froing about whether to talk to him. I repeatedly sought the advice of my friends, who’s advice tended to change. Maybe that was related to how much I wanted to contact him on a given day.

I felt confused about our break up. To me, it didn’t feel final and we didn’t feel finished. He was using my photos as his display picture and cover photo on Facebook and religiously watching my Snapchat story. A story being captured largely for his benefit, if I’m completely honest. And all that aside, I just plain missed him.

So on Wednesday night, two weeks post break up, I sent him a message. Which he ignored. I was extremely crushed because in ignoring me the break up was real and final. It was what he wanted, he wasn’t going to change his mind. I cried, feeling a physical pain in my heart again.

But then he did message me back the following morning. He apologised and said he’d been cowardly. Following that he would not be drawn into speaking again. So I got blunt and direct and asked him what was going on here. Did he want contact or not? Why the interaction with my content?

He expressed a great deal of confusion and what I think was ultimately semi-honesty. My Snapchat story was being religiously followed because he ‘wanted to see where I was at’. He did want to talk to me, but he didn’t know how and he couldn’t figure out whether talking to me was the best or worst thing for me. None of these things were really resolved. Maybe it was too soon for us to talk again (we haven’t spoken since) and I derive a weird sense of pleasure and comfort from knowing he’s looking so I’m not about to cut him off. Above all else it was so nice to just talk to him. We caught up a little bit, enough for him to feel bad I think, about my emotional state. And then I went to bed.

That conversation was cleansing for me. Although nothing was really discussed, I found closure. We are not getting back together. He is sorry that he’s hurt me and confused about how to help me from this new position in my life, but he’s done what was best for him and that’s all I ever asked of him in the event that he didn’t want there to be an ‘us’ anymore.

I think the truth of why he looks is that he’s watching to see if I move on first. And I have, twice over. Whether he can see that on my Snapchat story is another thing, but that’s no longer my problem.

It’s time for me to move on with my life now. To meet new people, redefine who I am on my own and find my way. I’m not sure I’ll ever truly be over him, or truly out of love with him. But I feel ready try.

This Is How I’ll Move On

We didn’t break up for a lack of love. The more I think about it, the more I come to understand so very deeply that ultimately we broke up because there was nowhere for us to go. I was happy to settle down; I felt I was on a near perfect wicket. He wasn’t ready to make the same commitment.

But with no major incident between us, other than this single uncomfortable truth, bringing myself to move on has been difficult. When my phone pings, my heart still skips a beat hoping it will be him. But with the continuing silence I have to accept that we are done. Or that he at least, is done with me.

And that’s okay. Of course it’s okay. I just still have to move on and continue my life. Because although it sometimes feels like it’s ended, it hasn’t. So this is what I’ll do:

I’m reconnecting with my friends.

I didn’t make the mistake of letting him become my entire world when we got together. I maintained my friendships. If I’m honest, they were absolutely neglected while I allowed myself to become wrapped up in his life. But I didn’t let them entirely slide and now I have many ears, many hugs and a lot of understanding and care. His absence has left me feeling alone, but I’ve been able to see my friends in the times I would have seen him. I’ve been able to have fun. I’ve continued to be social and it’s helped and continues to do so.

I’m throwing myself into my work.

I love my job. I love my job even more now that I can make it my whole life when I need to. A day on the farm is all encompassing, there is never a dull moment. I am often run so far off my feet that there isn’t a second for my brain to spend idling. This is a sweet reprieve as I realised in the aftermath that a part of my mind was permanently dedicated to him and to us and letting that part go and silencing it is scary and challenging and focussing on work and what needs immediate doing is the best medicine so far.

I’m going out.

I miss being a Saturday night party girl. I would have stayed with him forever, but I always wished he’d go out with me more. His dislike of the Saturday night scene that I loved kept me from going out. In 2016 I could count my nights out on the town on one hand. I’m looking forward to reconnecting with this part of myself, reconnecting with this freedom and carefreeness that was once the very essence of my being.

I’m giving myself time to grieve.

What I’ve lost is huge. For me it’s monumental. I have checked the facts, looked at the situation as objectively as I can and my feelings in the wake of the break up are valid. It is okay for me to be sad and to cry and feel frustrated and angry. It’s appropriate for me to grieve and laugh and reminisce. We shared over two years and they were beautiful and challenging, loving and fucking annoying at times. But I wouldn’t trade them.

I’m investing in me.

It’s time for me to rediscover myself. My identity inevitably became tied to him and in the post-him era I need to cut myself out again and step away from my comfortable co-dependence. Because the co-dependence has left me really vulnerable. I was a strong single woman and with what I have learnt about myself in a relationship, I know I can be a strong and healthy single woman. I’ve restarted Headspace’s ‘Take 10’ because I want to do it seriously. I’ve signed up for five pilates classes at a local studio beginning on Wednesday next week. I’m planning healthier meals, looking at a new gym program and even realising I have the time and funds to ride regularly again.

Moving on and forward alone is scary. I’m worried that I will get over him and that I won’t see him again. I’m worried about meeting someone new and starting everything again. I’m worried about what I’ll have found when I’ve finished soul searching. I’m worried that I’ll never finish soul searching at all.

But I know that I can be whole again. It feels like I’ve lost a significant piece of myself in his sudden absence. But I can be whole again. And more whole than ever before.

It’s Over Now

Every morning since Wednesday I’ve woken up and remembered that you’re gone.

That’s my first thought. Every day.

And then I have to try to reconcile with the silence that now exists between us. You talked as though we would stay in contact, be friends. But it was you who didn’t reply to my last message. It’ll hurt me more to try again.

I know deep down, knew it even as you were saying I could still call and text you, that we could never be ‘just friends’. I love you too much, my heart is just too broken. I will never be able to sit beside you as just your friend after what we have shared.

Your hugs were my favourite, and I can’t go to you for comfort now. We had been rocky as I reacted to the growing emotional strangeness between us over the past month. And you were increasingly frustrated with me, which made me feel worse. The circle was self serving and you wouldn’t talk to me about it. Not until it was much too late.

I understand that you didn’t feel ready for this to be your only relationship. I’m taking misplaced hope from you worrying that walking away will be the biggest mistake you make in life. I’m confused and I don’t think I’ll ever truly accept that I just wasn’t enough.

Because for me, you were more than enough. I’d have done anything for you. I’d have waited. I appreciate though, that you felt a break was not fair for me. It may have simply extended the grieving period, and this has been hard enough.

I miss you with every fibre of my being. Some moments my heart hurts so physically I can’t help but howl. Other times I’ve started to feel anger at my rejection and abandonment. But there are sweet times where I know I’ll be okay.

But it grievously wounds me to know you’ll never give me that look of love and adoration again as I ride you. Or worse still, you’ll give it to someone else. It’s like being repeatedly knifed in my stomach realising again and again that I won’t wake up next to you hugging me out of my morning haze. That there will never be another Sunday that’s just for us. That you’ll never again casually have your hand down my top while we watch TV. That we’re not going to share the new season of Sherlock. That the future I saw for us will not exist.

I understand now that the seriousness of us was scary for you and that you weren’t ready for it. I know that in time it will hurt me less and that my heart will heal.

In the mean time, I have to get used to no longer having the guy who held my hand through the worst times of my life by my side.

Too much of me hopes you’ll come back.