Sunday, December 24, 2006


I tripped over some proverbial baggage the other day. It took me a little bit of self-reflection before I figured out that this particular luggage was labeled "Fear of rejection - subcategory: the sexual variety."

There was a long period of time in my former marriage where I would initiate an intimate event and be turned down flat. Or I would do things to get the X to potentially initiate an intimate act (trying to be sexy or whatever.) only to not have it work. I was literally at the point where I could walk around the house naked for three days and not even be noticed. Yeah, good times. Makes a girl feel wanted and loved.

So, based on my previous history, I'm not exactly that willing to start the process. It hasn't been a problem since Friendster Guy would definitely not let me walk around naked without noticing and taking action. But I haven't even had to so that's a good thing. The other night, however, without even a thought about my history, I decided it was my turn to light the fire, so to speak. When it worked and I had a willing participant I was happy. But then, on the way from the kitchen with said willing partner to the bedroom, I tripped over the stupid baggage and got all freaked out. My thought process was this, "Now that I got him in here, I have to be GOOD at what I got him in here for!" Like I was a party hostess and had to make sure my guest had a good time. And suddenly I had this huge wave of ineptitude and self-doubt wash over me and my self-confidence took a nose dive.

With some nice distraction from FG I managed to pull myself through but afterward, I felt that I needed to talk to FG about it. I'll tell you what, the fact that I am comfortable enough to talk to FG says a lot about how much I've grown since the divorce and also says a whole heck of a lot about FG. He's very non-judgemental and I don't feel like anything I could say would push him away or whatever else a person fears may happen when spilling their guts to their partner. However, at that point, I wasn't quite sure what exactly the problem was to be able to tell him what was going on. Obviously I'd stumbled over something but I needed to sort out what it was.

In the interim I got all blubbery and silent. FG just held me and waited. We've been through a couple of these episodes before but it's been quite awhile. You know what was awesome? He had no idea why I was in some sort of post-coital meltdown but he stuck with me. I was so used to being pushed away and here he was bringing me even closer and wrapping his arms and legs all around me so I felt safe and loved. That man fucking rocks.

Anyway, I was able to determine what was the matter and speak my piece (peace?) about it all and I feel much better now. I don't know if I've put that particular baggage in a safe place where I won't trip over it anymore but I do know that it's probably more of a carry-on now instead of a full suitcase. I also know I love the heck out of that Friendster Guy.

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