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(NOTE: This week’s writing is very stream of consciousness and I share a part of my story that I haven’t publicly shared before—I’m writing about it in more detail in my forthcoming book, though. Anyways, I hope people aren’t weird aka whorephobic about it).
I have been hungry for attention as of late—not just any attention—the romantic/sexual kind. And yet, I am afraid of meeting anyone new.
The state of dating is bleak as ever. The apps provide me with nothing as usual. I don’t go to bars (I rarely drink) and most of my hobbies are solitary. Meeting anyone new when we’re still in a pandemic (and I wear a mask in public spaces) seems impossible. The people I see on dating apps aren’t hitting like they used to. Rarely have I seen anyone I’m attracted to nor anyone whose short bio makes my heart jump.
And yet, I do believe in miracles.
I’m sure I’m afraid of getting my heart broken again. I’m sure I’m nervous about really liking someone only for them to not feel the same about me. Life (and love, especially) is risky. I have taken many risks throughout my life. I just don’t know how much more I have in me. I don’t know how much more my weathered heart can take.
Unlike the woman I was in my 20s, I am unwilling to go on a date with just anyone. Half of the dates I went on back then were transactional anyways: they would pay for my meal, I would give them sex. It was my first foray into sex work without knowing it (I didn’t start doing sex work on purpose—camming and findom stuff—until a bit later).
I am far too tired at this point to have even one bad, or even mediocre, date a week. I don’t want it. More importantly, I don’t feel I need it like I did in my 20s. I don’t want attention for attention’s sake. I don’t want romance or sex or love from just anyone.
I’m tired of searching so maybe I’ll stop.
I can give myself attention, but it’s just not the same (big sigh at my cancer rising). I want to be romanced, pursued, opened. I want someone who makes me feel like Christmas when I’m in their presence. I want a deep, everlasting love.
It’s probably time for a break from the dating apps. It’s probably time to just focus on book writing. It’s probably time to lean more into my solitude.
I can still believe in miracles, though.
The Future of Crypto Reproductive Rights is Here - Meg Conley
CHAPTER 3- No One Is Coming To Save Us -
The Power of Access Information -
When Obsession With Skincare Becomes Dermorexia -
Must-Reads and the Work of Solidarity - Kelly Hayes
Melissa Febos has an online memoir workshop coming up and I signed up for it and I’m so so excited!
Currently re-reading The Society of the Spectacle and also reading Working Girl: On Selling Art and Selling Sex
Fuck yes Chappell Roan:
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"I want someone who makes me feel like Christmas when I’m in their presence." - Yes, this (from a Cancer sun that wants nothing less than alllll the romance) ❤️