Well boy howdy do I seem to have a bunch to write about all the sudden. After taking things easy last week, it seems like there is something new that I want to write about around every turn.
So, lets talk about sex for a hot second.
I’ve jumped back into the tinder/bumble pool for another go at meeting new people, and it is going about as abysmal as I had expected it would go. I am seeing a trend with the few people who like or match with me, though, and it really has me wondering what type of vibe I am giving out.
Married women in open relationships love me… I just don’t get it. Over and over it happens to me. We match. Things are going well. They don’t flake to do drugs (a situation that I am affectionately calling “Dali-ing” since drugs seem to be a hot new thing with people who think I am attractive (Yes, I understand that doesn’t bode well for me (No, I don’t do drugs (No, I don’t look like I do either.).).). Then it comes out that they are experimenting with polyamorous relationships. It’s plaguing my scant inbox, and maybe this isn’t just me. Maybe that is the trend with a lot of guys, but I just have no clue.
I question everything I do now, not in a judgemental way; I seriously just inquire with myself as to why I do or think the things that I do or think. Which leaves me wondering why I have set my romantic and sexual standards the way that I have. I have no issue with sex. I think its perfectly natural and human. It has key social applications as well as biological ones. It’s important. That being said….
Call me old fashioned, but I want sex to mean something a little more than just scratching an itch. The idea of a one night stand appeals very little to me, but I don’t judge anyone who engages in a lot of casual dates like that. It’s just not for me. It feels like too much work with very little reward. For some people, the hunt is what gets them off in the first place, and to those people, I tip my sexy cap. These open relationships aren’t that, though. They mean a lot to these people. These women really seem to love their husbands all the while exploring what else is out there.
I just can’t see myself dating a married woman. Whoof. I like to play with fire, but I never douse myself in gasoline before hand.
Is there something about me that gives off that vibe, though? I really have no clue what it is. Maybe it is the grey hair? The overabundance of flannel shirts? The enrapturing baby blue eyes that you just can’t help getting swept up in? Maybe it is just all three, and I am the polyamorous community’s distillation of all their collective desires. I highly doubt all of these options, though.
This is going to sound so stupid; so you will have to pardon me. Sex is confusing, though. Like, wow, this whole thing is confusing. For the first time in my life, I have a chance to explore what my sexuality fully means for me, and here come these people who are all on board with just kind of messing around and figuring things out. I’m likely overthinking this whole affair, but I can’t help but think.
I think it boils down to the fear of letting someone in again. Dopamine does some crazy stuff to your brain, and we can get addicted to those highs. This is probably an issue that others have managed to solve years ago, but I’m coming to this game pretty late, in a sense. I know how married people have sex… albeit toxic, transactional sex.
This Ghost is just wondering what business is left undone here. I know I like exclusivity. I know that I am okay with fooling around before putting labels on stuff as a means to check compatibility. I know that I am willing to take things as slow as needed. But frankly, I know that I also am my own worst enemy. I hold myself back from being spontaneous because I am always so worried that I will get in over my head and not be able to get out.
I mentioned this before, but this has got to be the most complicated bits of trauma that are left from the abuse. Being proactive about my life is important to me, and developing good habits in light of the divorce is also important to me.
A part of me wants to apply the FIA to this whole mess and just go with the flow. Another part of me doesn’t like the prospect of an STD. A meaningful sexual encounter is bound to happen at some point, and I really look forward to it. I have to give myself a chance for it though, right? It’s a barrier that I will have to breach at some point, and I’m pretty certain I would be okay with exploring that with Miss Jane Doe… maybe not Mrs. Jane Doe, though.
Who knows. What even is this blog anymore? Let’s make the next post something a bit more meaty, eh?