Saturday, October 13, 2012

This depraved truth

Yesterday we celebrated Kid´s Day at a reunion of friends I love so much. In times like these I always  get thankful for the few, lovely trustful ones fate had put in my way.
But sometimes I feel misplaced. After all, my best friends are married. Today, I don't feel like I belong to the singles, nor to the married team. I'm a mom and this gives me some roots and responsabilities, also a kind of safety feelings. Though I know we raise kids to the world, and not to ourselves, having a daughter keeps me from feeling too lonely.

Yes, I do confess I have this so very human fear of growinlg old alone. Dying alone, for more that I had touched people during my life, leaving it with the painful feeling that in the end, I didn't really share my story with anyone. And I will never understand why.

I can come here and write posts and posts of the pussy wetting feelings and thrills I am lucky enough to know from this existance. I can open this up to anyone willing to acess this blog. But I really feel deviant when I'm writing about loving kisses and holding hands. Nowadays it feels indecent to be faithfully in love, to secretly crave for spooning, hair stroking, tickle games and breakfast in bed.  I´m an old fashioned lover, a concubine to please all senses, way beyond sex.
Some years before my marriage ended, my ex husband started to humiliate me by telling me what a waste I was, for not "doing anything". I gave up my professional life to be a housewife and I was very proud of it. Everyday when he arrived home, the house was clean, the laundry was done, the dinner was about to get ready. It wasn´t a paid maid, everything was done with a special care. And he humiliated me because I couldn't find a job.

Well, I guess the fact that after I divorced I never had trouble finding a job- and I actually was making at least double his salary.- Is enough for me not to have a single scar of this humiliation. Actually I did learn a valuable lesson: that I can't care so much about someone to the point of forgetting about everything else including me. I must take care of me to be able to offer my best. I thought I was doing my best, any I thought my best wasn't enough for him. Bullshit. He wasn't deserving of my worse, I was just too blind to see it. And now I see that the same "sense of commitment" that made him keep me for so long also made me keep wasting my efforts in doing my best in exchange.
I'm thankful for the lessons learnt. I'm glad also that the bad experiences actually made me feel more confident about myself and sure about what I want and what I'm looking for. I got to know myself, to valuate me, to valorize me.
The bad experiences on love made me love in a more refined way. Also a more adult and realistic way.

Who would want a fairytale, when your smiles are so real...

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