Get Your Sexy On

That’s what it felt like today.

When I wasn’t in tears.

I was in this interesting back and forth between working it and being worked over.

I went to yoga and had a really great class, my favorite teacher was teaching and he may start offering some more classes at the studio, at times I could make, so I don’t have to obsess about doing more yoga while I’m doing yoga.

I felt soft and strong in my body and I had a very open moment as I was finishing the class in the final meditation where I just felt some heart opening and some letting go of old, old, old wounds.

I think I moved through the world with that awareness today, both tender and beautiful, open and sore, alive, and sad, awed and in wonder.

I felt in my body and confident and sexy.

And I found out today that a man who I have always found drop dead sexy gorgeous has found me attractive too.

What?

And.

Of course he’s not really available to me at the moment, but fuck, it was really awesome information to get.

It means that my instincts are pretty spot on.

In fact, my instincts are so much better than I give myself credit for that I am really seeing that I am, in fact, my problem.

I was talking with a friend earlier about a coffee date I have tomorrow and how I wasn’t sure if the guy was really interested, and where’s the follow through, and…

“You know, I hear you say that a lot, like, the guy is interested, wants to hang out but doesn’t set a time, I hear this a lot, and…”

Ugh.

And yeah, I know, I have to say something, I have to be the confident one.

And confidence is sexy and God only knows how badly I want to be sexy.

Psst.

Hey lady.

I hate to break it to you, but you are sexy, just stop shooting yourself in the foot.

Don’t bother with vague, be assertive, if someone says “hey, let’s hang out,” or “we should hang out sometime,” nail them to a time.

I don’t have the patience or bandwidth to dilly dally around.

I will always be busy, that is the nature of who I am.

There will always be something in my life, because I don’t wait around to live, I go out and do things.

Except date, I’m not so great at that and it’s because I am in fear.

Fear of not getting what I want and fear of getting what I want.

So.

I am vague, I don’t say what I need, I dance around.

Fuck that.

I am confident.

Well.

Ha.

Obviously not always, but thinking or acting like I’m not a hot tamale is asinine.

I am gorgeous, I sound like an asshole, but I don’t often affirm my attractiveness as I have been classically trained like many women, to deny myself, my beauty, my authority as a sexy creature, as someone worthy of being pursued.

When I down play myself, I actually de-value my worth and I wall up and I get cold and then, well, fuck, who would want to ask me out?

I remember an ex-boyfriend telling me once that he was very surprised by my lack of self-confidence, “I feel like I am constantly having to ‘piss on my tree’ you are always being stared at, and you have absolutely no clue.”

Of course not, because I won’t be safe then.

But I’m not safe anymore in my bubble of self-dom, dancing alone in my room when I should be, could be, ought to be dancing in someone’s arms.

So.

Fuck it.

Fake it until I make it.

I’m not going to get back on dating apps or sites or any of that happy horse shit.

But.

I am going to get a hell of a lot clearer and more direct with men.

The next time a man says we should hang out, I’m going to ask when, give a time I’m available and say let’s make a plan.

Because this sexy beast is worth making a plan for.

I have had a lot of friends advocate for this sexiness and God forbid I waste it, I only have this life to live and I am not going to live it with regrets.

I have made many leaps of faith in my life.

Moving to Paris to turn 40.

Quitting a highly paid nanny job to go work in a bike shop.

Traveling by myself to London, Rome, New York.

Moving to San Francisco with a 2 month sublet, $2,000 in savings and no job.

Fuck.

The biggest leap of all.

Getting sober.

If I can do that, I can ask for what I want from a man and a date.

Yes, yes I can.

I have the power.

It’s not mine.

It’s Gods

And if you think that’s crazy, that’s ok.

God is a sexy beast too.

Like to like.

I always say.

My instincts are just fine.

How could they not be?

They are God-given.

Seriously.

Time to unleash myself from my own fear and shame shackles and get the fuck on with my life.

God did not mean for me to be alone and it’s my own fear that’s keeping me that way.

I’m over it.

Ready for the next phase of my development.

Bring it the fuck on.

This PSA, FYI, is not brought to you by my hormones.

Thank you very much.

Just my own personal reality check.

With a little help from my friends.

Thank you friends.

I couldn’t do this without you.

Thanks for having my back when I was too afraid to.

My heart is open.

My eyes are clear.

My sexy is definitely back.

Watch out.

 

 

You’re Super Smart

And hot!

I’d date you.

Aw!

Thanks darling, that means a lot.

I responded to a social media post about being out in the dating world as well and that was my response.

That’s really nice to know.

Even if I don’t always believe it.

Habit.

Not a great habit.

But.

Not as bad as the overly confident man on Tinder today who basically went from a semi-flirtatious message to a over heated, over bearing, pushy overtly sexual perverted exploration of my tattoos.

Dude.

Unmatch.

Ugh.

I haven’t had a lot of creeps, but every once in a while I get one and my instinct were right and I shouldn’t have swiped.

I did, he did, there was some messaging, but after a real good gut check.

Nope.

Unmatched and moving on.

Not that I really need to being pursuing a date for this weekend.

God damn I have a lot of stuff going on.

Friday night I may have a touch base date, like a hello in passing, which I am flattered by, he’s the gentleman I met last week at Public Works, he’s an Oakland guy and coming over the bridge for some Detroit house music, which if I wasn’t already engaged I would totally go check out.

But I do have plans and so instead of saying no, I said, hey, if you want, you will probably be a good fit with the friends I’m going to be hanging out with, swing by if you want.

That being said.

I don’t want to make Friday a rager.

Even if the night is looking like that right now.

I have a lot of stuff to do on Saturday.

There is the yoga.

Which I did today and I’m super glad I got up early and made the effort to exercise, I needed to stretch probably just as much as my body could have used the extra hour of sleep.

That being said, if I go out Friday night getting up for a 9 a.m. yoga class is challenging.

Plus.

Meeting my person at noon.

And.

Recording a podcast at 1:30p.m.

I want to make sure that I have good voice for that.

I’m a little nervous, but also excited.

I have been practicing a few of my pieces and the woman I’m recording with said she was just going to ask me a bunch of questions, so just be me.

God.

Who the hell knows what that is going to look like.

But.

Yes.

I am excited.

I also feel like I should be writing some poetry, I haven’t cut a poem in a while, but I have been consistent here with the blog and with my morning pages and as long as I continue here it doesn’t matter so much.

The woman expressed to me that I would also be able to plug anything I’m working on and she would be putting my blog address in the podcast.

I have no idea what to tell her.

I’m not here to advertise or get accolades.

Although those are nice.

It’s just a practice, a letting go, a surrender to the words and whatever my heart needs to process from the day.

Yes.

Miraculous things happen here.

But I can’t sell the magic, it just comes when I am wide open to it.

Sometimes I am so blown open, a dandelion fluff of seed pods blown high into the blue robin’s egg sky.

Sometimes I am closed down and sad, sad, sad, and things get over blown and I feel dramatic and snarky and I want to be mean and then.

When I am.

Fuck.

That sucks.

But.

It comes and goes and flows and I have no idea where it’s going and I have no project on the burner, I have not needs to process or things to promote.

Unless it’s me getting shit together for Burning Man.

Which.

By the way.

Where is my ticket?

I signed for it via the UPS site and it was supposed to be delivered today and no ticket.

Which also reflects my lack of ride, gear, and on and on.

I did, however, get a ride set up for the school retreat that is coming up for me in August.

I got an e-mail from a friend in the cohort asking if I wanted a ride, and yes!  Yes, please and thank you.

So grateful to not have to think about that.

One less thing on my plate of busy.

I also got another e-mail from another friend in the cohort regarding a room request, which was made today and I’m super happy for that.

I’m a little nervous, I had my own room last year.

Just happened, the person assigned to be my room mate pulled out of the program before the retreat and I got lucky.

It was nice to be alone and have a space to come back to, but I am also looking forward to sharing a room with not one, but two of my friends.

The request was for the triple room.

I got another message from a woman in the program also expressing how she missed me and how she was looking forward to seeing me at school.

It’s nice to be thought of.

It’s nice to be missed.

It’s nice to know that I have made some kind of impact on someone’s heart.

No matter how small.

“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

― Maya Angelou

Yup.

I heard this recently and it so resonated.

Looks are fleeting.

But when you touch someone’s heart, that stays.

I hope that I can be that person, the one who is kind and sweet and loving.

But usually the best I can do is be tolerant.

I do love.

And I love hard.

I do.

I do.

I’m an old school romantic.

It’s part of my blood and I don’t mind.

I got a spiritual solution for your desperate aim.

Love.

God.

Same.

Same.

Sorry.

Not.

Sorry.

And ever more.

Happy.

Joyous.

Free.