It’s been a vulnerable week.
I told a dear friend about the blog, kink, poly, all of it. Her response was so grounded and generous. She was excited for me and supportive of the work I’m doing. We talked about authenticity, about pursuing that which puts fire in our bellies and then about sex toys, naturally. It was one of those conversations that really fills your bucket and leaves you feeling good, like deep in your bones, good even though it took a leap of faith and some vulnerability to get there.
I got trolled this week too. That was a bizarre experience – a really nasty, hateful anonymous comment via Curious Cat. It made me wobble a bit, but not for long. It’s hurtful to think that someone would want to be so mean, in fact, for me, that’s worse than the insults themselves. I guess when I looked at the words, they really didn’t hold any power, certainly only as much as I was willing to give them. So I didn’t give them anything. And that was that.
And just to round out the vulnerability trifecta, a hat-trick, if you will, I’ve been connecting with a lovely someone who has been a sheer delight to get to know. (More on Him later) But we are at the deeeeeep getting-to-know-you phase, where all the secrets and skeletons come out. It has taken time and patience, on both our parts, to navigate those waters as well as more than a little vulnerability. He said “Tell me about you.” I said “Current me, or historical me?” He smiled and said “Both.” So I did, and there’s no looking back, and no regrets.
And here we are again, another Friday, another BoobDay, another chance to let it all hang out, to be ourselves, to do and say our best and worst, even if it’s a total train wreck. Here’s to Fridays, to the weekend, to flashing your tits and fucking the patriarchy. Here’s to getting mad and being loud, to crying and wailing and singing and coming. Let the weekend begin!
“Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.”