Adulting sucks

I know it’s been over two and a half years, but I have been adulting. Adulting the best way I knew how, sex.

I won’t go into too much detail as my sex life is extremely non-vanilla, and that is something I would like to keep private (unless you mistakenly overhear me telling my girlfriends in a pub).

January 2018, I was lost. I was trying to break away from the cycle of going back to the ex. Plus the usual struggles of being in my late 20’s feeling like my “career” was rather bland, without any clear direction to climb up the ladder.

I succeeded…ish by having an FWB, with a difference. I sought to have one I succeeded…ish by having an FWB, with a difference. I sought to have one lover, and I would be loyal and submissive. I wanted to enter something where I didn’t have to think and to give control to someone else. I like to be in control of myself. It worked in some ways, as I emotionally detached from the ex and luckily it didn’t transfer to my sex partner, Martin.  I sought someone who was not emotionally available to me, nor me to them. However, we did develop our special bond. Of course, this could only happen via trust. Towards the end of our 18-month situation, he even admitted I am different and unique from the others he’s been with. We still speak to this day, not a much as I’m giving him his space. You’ll understand in my following posts. 

My sex partner, Martin, helped me with dating, regarding the type of guys to seek. Ensuring he was age-appropriate, I couldn’t help going for men in the 40’s, sometimes 50’s as it was fun and I knew we couldn’t go far. I am my own worst enemy. Ensuring the courter wasn’t just looking for FWB’s which I do all so well. Seek a guy who has similar interests to explore the world and pay attention to those red flags, limiting me to enter another casual relationship deliberately.

It somewhat worked. Martin never allowed me to give up after 3weeks and wait 6-8months  till i find the courage to get back on those stupid dating apps. I had to push through being on the back burner and fully let go when my courters have found someone more suitable for them.

I am pretty non-demanding, which he tried to change (in a healthy way). I live by “if you want to make an effort you will” and I am not going to push for it. I was encouraged to get out there and find my future husband, I am worth it on so on. So I did.

Then I met Steve. 

The Bitch Is Back

Sorry for the lack of posting. My new job has turned me into a mini jet setter (without the salary to match). Plus I am seeing some one. Yes, I am now a one man woman!

I promised I wouldn’t talk about him, which I have managed to keep sincerely starting this monolog. Well, to be fair it was mainly due to the fact that we were just having sex and dinner. Basically the type of relationship I am familiar with and more importantly comfortable with. No feelings, no drama, easy.

This relationship blossomed into everything I’ve wanted. Bar the fact that he is recently separated and over 15 years older (you can’t have it all I guess).

We’ve spent a weekend away in late April. It was the first time I went away with a guy for the whole weekend. We have a fantastic weekend and filthy sex :-). The inner porn star came out that night. I mean proper filthy porn. It comes as second nature…I know what he wants and I do it without him asking me. I feel like it is my duty to please him in every way (mentally). Like a marriage.
In June, we had a ten day holiday in Italy. At this point I was ready to walk away. Recent text messages made me feel a bit “under valued”. I felt like the NSA chick and not the girlfriend. Crazy, as I am known at the “NSA Chick”. You could say it is literally written across my forehead. But for the first time ever I voiced my disappointment and overall thoughts. I could see it in his eyes. He looked distraught, knowing he made me feel this way. Looking back at it, I was definitely on a OTT rage. The hormones are making me become extremely temperamental as I get older. But he accepts that. I was afraid of the unknown. After the crap that happened with Mr Big, I wasn’t sure if my head could take it.
I had the BEST ten days ever. I was afraid that he would do my head in. Fight or crave for some alone time, as we both love being alone.
But we didn’t want to leave each others side. We were basically those cute couples who are not too OTT, but just enough for you to throw your coffee at them.
I even walked around in the hotel room naked with a face mask. A face mask! Driving from town to town. Wine, sun, good food and culture! The holiday made me realise how much we value each other. It’s something I’ve never experienced before. I don’t feel venerable. I feel safe.

Guys, I think I’m in love. And it feels great. I can tell him ANYTHING. I have no fears, we are completely honest with each other. Now this is love.

The Big Bad Bully

Don’t you love it when you receive a random text from a random guy? You secretly hope it was the hot guy you swapped numbers with on a night out a few months ago. Or that one date, which seemed perfect, but as life does, crap stirs up and you go your separate ways.Or it was that twat, whom you have completely forgotten about, but clearly he hasn’t forgotten you. Well, that’s my luck! I got the twat!

A couple of years ago, when I had my first stab of online dating I met a guy called Matt. A 37-year-old detective. He seemed ok on paper, I didn’t fancy him much, but he seemed calm/mysterious. I couldn’t quite read him, which always makes me more interested. I think I’m attracted to indirect danger!

One afternoon he got home from work and to sleep. Being the cheeky girl I am I proceeded to say “good night granddad”. Let’s just say it didn’t go down too well.

Standing in Soho Square, in my heels and nude fitted dress, I didn’t know what to think. As a girl who is comfortable with men sexually and socially, dating makes me feel sick. I was a nervous wreck, fidgeting like a child in anticipation. Walking towards me with this sorry figure of a man. The first thing that came into my head was “Fuck, he looks like Danny” (my ex boyfriend). This kind of made sense, a familiar face in a foreign situation.

Dinner was somewhat awkward. I couldn’t be myself, as he made it clear that he did not like me talking about my work or boss.  My head was on repeat, “don’t talk about work, you know he doesn’t like it”. I managed to survive dinner without a dirty look, so I was doing well. Sitting in a bar, we shared a bottle of wine. “Its your turn, I’ve paid for dinner” he shouted in an unattractive drunken manner. I was speechless; non-the less I paid for the drinks. I just wanted to go home without any drama.

Matt noticed me drifting off, as I do when tipsy and slightly bored. He gently touched me to wake me up. In my drunken state I jumped to my feet like a kinky kangaroo and singed “let’s go granddad”.

Before I knew it, he went into a rage and rushed out of the bar. Trying my best to run down Soho in my heels to catch up. Within in a blink of an eye, he was gone. On my way home, I called Mr Big to tell him about the disastrous date, trying to understand what I did wrong. Jumping out of the taxi, the driver commented on how beautiful I was, which boosted my ego.

I called Matt to apologise, I did make it clear from the start of my dry sense of humor! I did call myself a grandma a few times as I was drifting off. He went on like a menopausal woman, saying how he no longer found me attractive, how he thought I was immature etc. At this point I was running around my room getting ready for bed, pretending to actively listen.

Then I fell onto my bed in shock. Let’s just say he called me the C word…and I don’t mean a Cow. Now I have no issues with the word, I use it a lot, in and out of the bedroom. However when a man is calling you that outside the bedroom, in an extremely aggressive manner. Shouting at you continuously, it was like he was in a middle of riot.   Although it was over the phone, I felt frightened and confused. What did I do wrong?

The next day he called up to apologise, as he partly blamed me for what happened. “Forgetting” that he called me the C word!

It dawned on my age and fundamentally me that he had issues, with women, who are rather confident. I guess he assumed, that because I’m younger, I would be “easier” to control. He soon found out, that I can fight back.

The Headf***

Sorry for my lack of posting. My issues with dating and slight ( ok well rather large) habit of casual encounters has meant I have very little to write about.

I have tried several times to write about “Mr Big”, I  finally think I am emotionally ready for it. I am still mourning our friendship more than everything else. He has completely cut me out. Although he was the one that said the “yucky” stuff first.

Anyway, I’m having a brain “fart” as I am writing this, so please bear with me. Mr Big and I started our “relationship” (an extremely loose term) three years ago. It was great, meet up for a Friday or Saturday night. Do the dance and off home. We got on well, but I didn’t see the need to go out socially (what’s the point, we aren’t dating?). I’ve always tried to be very simple with this. I’m great at casual relationships. I’ve had a couple which others may have seen as dating, as we would go out for dinner or drinks. But it’s something I don’t generally do. I see very little need to mix the two. I still don’t know why maybe as I am simple minded? God knows.

On a night out, I called Mr Big to see if he was in town to give me and a girlfriend a lift home. A bit tipsy, he proceeded to tell me about some big titted thing he played with, but he said, “she doesn’t have a patch on you”. Now I don’t take words seriously, as I have had a few head fuckers, especially in my early teens, but that’s a different story. As I laughed when he told me this, I was thinking “ I wish you could find a girlfriend, you’re a good one”. The conversation turned into something I was not prepared for. He told me, he had feelings for me. Not one where he felt very protected, but love. I tightly squeezed my friends arms as he mumbled away. She went slightly red, but that’s the price you pay for being my friend :-). The conversation lasted over an hour. I felt all warm inside, something I can say I have never felt before.

About a month went by when I responded to tell I’m I do have feelings for him. I wanted to give it some time, to see if I am having a knee-jerk reaction. Months went by where the conversation never came up again. I’m certainly not going to bring it up. I didn’t want to appear to be “that girl”, who catches feelings. I am the Queen of non-committed relationships. But I couldn’t hide anymore. This foreign feeling of love made me sick both physically and mentally.

Christmas 2013, a month after we declared our feelings,  I invited him to my home. This was a big deal for me, as it’s the family home and I never let my ex-boyfriend through the front door, even if I was alone. Somehow that seems more personal. I made lunch, great sex as always and we exchanged Christmas gifts. Well, I gave my gift later as it did not arrive. Anyway, he presented me with a ring. A simple wedding band sorta ring, which wouldn’t have cost no more than £15. But that’s’ not the point. It’s the gift. Why give me that type of ring? I just remember smiling, like your face is about to have an attack, it is was intense. But I was happy and somewhat surprised. “Does he really love me in this way?” Not that I would have gotten married to him, but some sort of commitment. This is something that still hurts if I am honest. Like I’m being laughed at in some way.

Over the course of 2014, Mr Big kept on saying crap, which I am not going to bore you with. Stating that I need to sort myself out etc (which was true to some extent). In a nutshell, he failed to mention that he had a girlfriend. I slept within maybe once or twice whilst he was dating her.  Bearing in mind he knows what I am like. Rejection is fine, scary but better than being played.

The only thing I still ask myself is why couldn’t he have been honest? He knows what I am like. Plus she works in a pub and looks like a 1990’s throw back, but then again he does like them slutty. Enough with the bitching! But seriously, I am happy he has found someone. I just hated the way he has treated me. I thought him and I were mates. He wouldn’t even meet me for a coffee over Christmas ( I found out he had a girlfriend in December 2014). Thank god for Facebook hey! I actually screamed when I saw the status update and cried when taking my little cousins back home. I couldn’t control my emotions.  There is nothing worse than a three-year-old stating that you are crying. I was ready to set off. I cried myself to sleep for days, only to wake up 30mins later. Seeing images in my head. It was crazy, it still happens from time to time, but I think it’s more the hormones (well I hope it is).

He is 20 years older, and it may not have lasted more than three months to a year, god knows. But I thought our friendship would have lasted until death. That sounds really emotional but true. I haven’t sent the long email, text or voice message. Is there any point?

This is why I hate feelings because no matter how honest and easy going you are about this. Someone always knows how to fuck with your brain/emotions.  I laid myself bare, having panic attacks when expressing how I felt. I was scared. Scared of the unknown. It’s even worse when it’s someone that you respected and cherished, as a friend.

PS. I haven’t cried writing this (yay me).