But saying it like that feels too personal. And I realized that, in truth, you didn’t bore me—because I don’t really know you that well, and I have no right to judge you as a person. What bored me was the idea I had built of you. I got bored of our dynamics, the dynamic we created together. And it bored me because it is simply not what I am looking for right now.
During my marriage, I realized that over time I started to show a version of myself that didn’t represent me at all. I adapted—because I’m extremely good at adapting—and that made me unhappy, even though I didn’t want to admit it. I adapted to my husband being terrible at sex, to not talking about it, to consciously holding myself back so as not to be sexier, not to be more myself.
In this process of reconnecting with myself, I’ve realized what I love about me. And that is turning someone on—and being turned on. I enjoy those moments deeply. I realized this every time I connect with T (the marriage man), who helps me develop that part of my personality and makes me have so much fun. I don’t feel like I dominate him, or that he dominates me. I feel like we are on the same wavelength. Playful. What we do feels healthy, not correct, don’t get me wrong. I don’t know—it feels healing to me. And on his side, that’s his story, but if I had to guess, I think it frees him in some way from the “pause mode” he lives in.
The big difference is that I managed—or was forced—to get out of that pause mode. And today I realize it was one of the best things that ever happened to me. Not the best thing in life, and not something I wish on all families, because children suffer. But being in pause mode as a couple is incredibly hard to endure, and it brings far too many consequences.
I feel that L was slowly pulling me back into that pause mode again—into not being myself in order to adapt to someone else, to someone else’s problems, leaving mine in second place. But I have my own needs. I want to have sex. I want to learn how to have sex. I want to practice with someone. I don’t care whether love is involved or not—although affection, yes. That’s why I feel comfortable with someone I know, for now. Maybe one day I’ll try with someone random and then I’ll be able to compare. Or maybe not. I don’t have everything figured out yet. But I do know this: I want sex. I need sex. And I want to get to know someone through sex, not the other way around. The other way takes me to places I don’t want to return to.
I am getting to know myself again. Reconnecting with who I am, understanding who I was, and learning who I want to be. I am a sexual, passionate being—in every sense. But that flame was asleep for a long time. Now it has woken up. And as it grows stronger every day, I see things more clearly and more quickly. I don’t want to put it out anymore. I can’t. I can’t dim it either. It’s as if that flame is guiding me, and the higher it burns, the more energy it gives me, the more positive things it brings. That’s why I want to follow it. I know it’s a good guide.
Today I start my day feeling grateful—for what I have, for being in this moment of my life, for being able to enjoy my family and friends, to create projects, to travel, and to plan my future. I feel that the woman I reflect today is just the tip of the iceberg of who I want to become. This is only the beginning.
Finding myself again is one of the most beautiful things happening to me right now. And I enjoy every moment of it—finding myself, rediscovering myself, and at the same time, humanizing myself.