Love Story vs. Thelma and Louise

A lot of women have told me the less you have it the less you want it. So far that hasn’t rung true for me. I am masturbating almost nightly now; sometimes with a vibrator, sometimes without. I will confess, however, that the flashbacks to hot sexual activity are waning…only, I fear, because they are becoming but a dim memory. I think less about the act of sex yet still feel the physical urge. Interesting.

Men are beginning to annoy me, too. I used to enjoy the attention they showered upon me. If I left the house feeling kind of ugly due to PMS or whatever, men were so good at lifting my spirits with their appreciative looks and comments. Now, when a man looks at me or speaks to me I want to kick him in the face! It’s partly frustration I’m sure. Another part is an emerging sense of self that is sick of being objectified. It’s the way my sister described Thelma and Louise when she saw it before me: “Just a story of two women who are sick of men’s shit.”

I have never had a man like me for my inside as much as my outside. The longer I stay away from sex, the more I’d like to know what it feels like to be appreciated for WHO I AM. I realize this is the second time I’ve made that declaration, so already this blog is taking some direction. I believe the purpose of my experiment of sexual abstinence for a year is to understand how it feels to connect with someone on a deeper level than the physical. How utterly shocking that I have never done that, but there you have it.

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