Love Is Not a Vice…

I wrote a post today that I realize, in retrospect, was going to reveal just how bitter and angry I am about love. I was having a side conversation with a friend, via text, about vices and I listed love as one of them. Below is his response and the simplicity and wisdom of it blew my mind. It reminded me of the agency and ownership I have over my life and helps me to remember to be careful of falling into the victim role I sometimes allow myself to play. In my darkest moments, I think of love as a vice and I blame it for all the things it has done to me but the real culprit is desperation and denial and false hope in thinking that love has the ability to change people.

Love can roam freely within the confines of the mind and heart but shouldn’t always be allowed to roam with abandon in action and in deed. Through this person, I’ve been exposed to the concept of taming my free spirit and learning more about self-preservation through self-possession.

….Apparently, I’ve just been schooled o_O

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No, I Won’t Have A Threesome With You: A Love Story

Not too far in the dating game and I’m about ready to tap out. Seriously, I’ve been propositioned with a threesome so many times it really makes me wonder what kind of slutty vibes I’m giving out. Being free doesn’t mean that I am loose. Being in touch with my sexuality is something I learned by default through being married at such a young age and I’ve just kind of kept it with me. If you’re insecure they don’t want you, if you exude confidence they want too much of you. They take advantage of your high self esteem and they drain the life out of you like you’re not even a person.

I realize they don’t even see me. I’m just jiggly thighs and ass– and that’s not even my gimmick. I’m nowhere near a video ho, the cellulite on my body would get me immediately dismissed from the set. I just want to be myself, I’m interested in being free. I try to communicate who I am and it’s just not making a sound. So this pretty young thing comes along and he’s saying the right things. He asks me about who I am, compliments my dress and loves that I’m a mom. He says I make him feel warm inside and more comfortable with himself. He sees I’m laidback and carefree in spite of my pain. He wants to share me with another woman.

I study him, smile, and tell him I’m just not that girl. He smiles back at me…