Finding My Sexy

Back in my day, we didn't have Snapchat.

Also, here's a friendly reminder that I have a body attached to my smile and boobs.

#imnoangel

Look, I have nowhere else to post this, so if you were hoping for something sexy, this isn't it, scroll down. I was casually sleeping with a friend of mine for a few months after my last big relationship, truth be told I probably cheated on B with this guy. He was weirdly misogynistic, "traditional", religious even. He'd never LET me open my own doors and he had the most detailed crucifix hanging over the bed of his ritzy apartment. Flaws aside, he listened to me and took me seriously. My Bushwick lifestyle wasn't something he understood, but he tried. He cared for me when I was desperate, and cooked for me when I was so poor I thought I'd lose everything. He was a great friend who occasionally went down on me and very often bought me pretty gifts and fancy dinners, and sent me heartfelt messages whenever he thought of me. Fast forward to about nine months and it's my birthday, a pretty big birthday actually. My friends were throwing me an amazing party at a bar we loved and he promised he was going to join us for the festivities. He didn't. At roughly 3:20 that morning I called him. His phone rang and rang and eventually I got his voicemail box. Hearing his voice on that message (or maybe it was the two wine bottles...) stirred something in me and I confessed my love for him over that phone. I spilled my naive, still wounded guts into that machine and cried. Cried because being 20-something in NYC is fucking hard. Cried because finding someone who will make you cum repeatedly and show up to your birthday party was more than I should've expected. I'd like to say that we came back from that, or that I had some witty response for making a fool of myself, but we didn't. He called me to coldly apologize and suggested we "take a breather." We're no longer friends. It is his birthday today and I miss his friendship. I miss having his snide comments to balance my eternal optimism, I miss his sage advice and his earnest laugh. I was too young to see that there are many kinds of love, and that the love I had for him was deep and real, but it was far from romantic. Happy birthday Jay, I still love you (though ya know, not like that).

God loves side boob and Kentucky.

Typical Thursday texts. 😜💗

Scotch flask, hot tubs, summer stock.

I told someone else about this blog. In fact I told a whole bunch of people about this blog last night while out to dinner. I was slightly inebriated, we were (for the most part) all very sexually liberated, and I knew they wouldn't judge me. However, my reason for bringing this up was what pissed me off. For the first time in a loooooong time, I did it for the validation of being fuckable. These people know me, they've spent an intense three weeks with me and yet, I needed to feel objectified and revered as "sexy." I write this to sort of get the guilty feeling off my chest. I preach body love and understanding and yet I shame myself every chance I get. I don't regret telling anyone about this page, but hopefully next time it'll be to celebrate liberation and not to feel like I'm enough. Because in hindsight I am more than enough.

No,Sorry.

My cat has found a new nuzzling place to sleep every night.

The city and I, we're never really as dark as we could be.

Our hotel room was packing. <3