I need to tap into my inner hoe.
When I went on my little hoecation I was getting wet without doing anything but looking at a guy. I guess it was because there were no strings attached so I didn’t feel the need to really care what the guy thought, but with Igor I’m drier than dry and it’s frustrating. It really is just because I like him so much. All my insecurities manifest themselves and I start overthinking because I want sex to mean something. Maybe I just need to get back into the mindset that sex means nothing and just go for it, showcase my crazy.
Imagine, I actually used to get too wet. Now there’s no sign of the falls of Niagara. I’d say fuck my life but I’d be too dry to penetrate.
I’m frustrated. I think I’m a prude. The whole sex is bad mindset and not being able to just let go is a problem. I don’t think sex is bad but I do struggle with letting go, for fear that I’d get judged by the person I’m fucking. Except for when I went through my hoe phase, where I doubled my body count from two to four in a matter of two days then from two to six in like three months. Hoe! That’s what I need though! I need to stop caring so much.
I am completely overthinking this. When I slept with those three guys after my breakup, I had no expectations so I didn’t give a fuck at all. I was happy to open my legs and for it not to mean anything. I just wanted to fuck and leave. But with Igor I have expectations, it’s not just a casual fuck me, I do want it to mean something… so badly. He’s great. I like him so much and I get butterflies just thinking of him. I’m so attracted to him; I remember when the thought of him used to leave my clitoris throbbing. When he’d kiss me and I’d be swimming in my own juices. With the expectation of sex off the table, I was able to just let go. Those days when I refused to have sex with him, because it was too early in our relationship, were the pinnacle of my sexual desires. But aiming for sex puts me in this crazy funk and my vagina starts to malfunction. I’m never having sex again…
Fuck me… Except I’m unfuckable.
I put too much pressure on myself. It’s ridiculous. There’s always something to critique. There’s always something that’s not perfect. I need to get out of this habit I have whereby I’m never happy with anything I do.
I really am annoyed. I just want to be fucking normal. Instead I’m batshit crazy and can’t even get wet when I like someone – because I like them…!
Where normal people feel like it’s them against the world, with me, it’s me against myself. I’m my own worst enemy and I hate it. I need to do better – be better. Maybe I need therapy. Talk through my inability to just be.
I don’t know. I try to practice mindfulness and I think I’m very in tune with myself and my body but being in tune with it is one thing, actually accepting it is another. I need to be ok with how I am. Not even who I am. How I am. I need to be ok with the fact that I’m not perfect. Yet I’m so accepting of others and their imperfections so I don’t know why I’m always expecting perfection from myself.
Igor has done well not to push me or make me feel bad for how I am. He’s really lovely and constantly reassures me that there’s nothing wrong with me. So why do I constantly feel like there is?
I need to do better or else I’ll drive myself into depression and that’s not what I need for myself right now or ever.
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Ok, less of the serious stuff more of the banter. I threw a tantrum yesterday because I spilt my reed diffuser liquid everywhere. In that moment I was so annoyed at myself that I actually knew I was full on going to throw a tantrum. I told Igor he might want to leave because I didn’t necessarily want him to see me act like an even bigger baby because of some spilt liquid. But can I just say, it was very expensive and not something you’d want to waste.
Anyway I tried to minimise how theatrical the tantrum was so that a level of dignity was maintained in front of bae. I did well because I didn’t cry.
Overall, I’m pretty happy. Journaling really does help me with processing my feelings. The whole drama with the ex literally seems so far away. I don’t even feel a hint of the sadness or guilt I felt yesterday (was it yesterday or last week? Ha!). But really. It helps me put things into perspective – especially once I’ve sobered up from whatever negative emotion I’m feeling. I can just look back at half the shit I’ve written and analyse how unnecessary my thoughts and actions were. Plus I’m learning about myself. I’ve learnt that I seek perfection from myself. I’ve learnt that I blame myself a lot. I’ve learnt that I can be hurtful with words when angry. I’ve learnt that I’m an overthinker. I’ve learnt many things. I want to keep doing this. I feel it’s important.
But for real, I’m happy.