Posts Tagged ‘walking through fear’

Get Your Sexy On

March 26, 2017

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┬ádance 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.

 

 

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Movement

May 6, 2015

Yes.

After a lot of internal struggle and a lot of writing.

A lot.

I am finally fixing my scooter.

I can’t tell you exactly what, fear, has taken me so long, but there it is.

It just has.

I prayed for acceptance, I’ve been in awareness now for sometime–it don’t work for me, it needs to be checked out, I don’t know how to fix it, maybe I’ll ask for help–to actual action.

And in the end.

It was easy.

I’ll be taking my Vespa over to Scooter Center this Saturday to have Barry Gwinn take a look at her, I told him who referred me and he just laughed, “you know a bunch of characters,” he said.

I do.

This was after he exhaustively grilled me on whether or not my Vespa had ever been in Vietnam or any part of Asia.

I didn’t understand at first, but after he continued with the questioning I realized that there was a faint ring of a bell somewhere in my head and I recalled that the market in the United States had been flooded with scooters from Vietnam and no scooter shop worth it’s chops will work on a scooter from there.

I had no idea, but I know the person who I bought it from and he had never mentioned it and out of the blue, I said I know what the problem is but the person who was working on it is no longer available.

I was getting the impression that Barry was thinking I’m a girl and don’t know what I’m dealing with.

And it’s true.

I don’t know how to fix my scooter, but I have friends who are scooter fan boys and they know their stuff.

I also told Barry that it had a new engine.

“Who put the new engine in it?” He asked.

“Christopher Ward,” I replied, “he’s done maintenance work on it, but isn’t available anymore and he recommended you.”

“Oh! Chris Ward, well then it’s definitely not from Vietnam,” he stated.

Glad to know.

I didn’t think it was.

Barry had wanted me to send him photographs to assure him it was not a Vietnam Vespa, but when he heard that Chris had done the engine he didn’t need more convincing.

Thank goodness.

We chatted a little more and he’s going to take a look at it on Saturday.

Then I walked through some more fear and called the scooter tow guy and what do you know, it’s not so bad, he quoted me $45 for anywhere in San Francisco.

The last quote I had gotten was $75, so that was a nice surprise.

The tow guy is going to come out to my house at 2p.m. on Saturday and take me and my Vespa to the Scooter Centre and I am finally going to get it dealt with.

Maybe it’s been all the soreness in my knees and the stretching and strengthening exercises I do every night when I get home from my bike ride (and may I say, they freaking hurt, my knees hurt, my hips hurt, my hamstrings hurt, but I can tell that the hip muscles are getting stronger and just a tiny bit more flexible) or the thought of graduate school looming on the horizon, but I finally got fed up with myself for being in financial fear.

I paid $2650 for the scooter.

And it’s just been collecting dust.

The scooter is actually worth more than the $2650 I paid for it, especially considering that my friend who sold it to me dropped a brand new engine into it, so I could be selling it for $3,000 or possibly more.

I think originally he spent close to $4,000 on it.

He cut me a deal.

He’s got a car and another Vespa and he’s a friend, so I got a break.

Then, of course, I almost broke my ankle on it.

And I’m sure that has something to do with it.

But I want to get back on the horse.

And if not on this Vespa, then at least fix her up, it’s a small issue to remedy, and pop the little dent out of the front fender and if I don’t ride her, sell her.

I’ve been thinking about a car.

Gasp.

Which I haven’t had in over 12 years.

I am jumping ahead of myself.

I think once the Vespa gets cleaned up and fixed I’ll be fine with it and I can have some get about with her on the weekends, take more of a break with my bicycle and see about riding it in to work occasionally.

My employers have enough room in their garage to fit a scooter.

And with Yoga Beach opening up a half block away from my house in a couple of weeks I could do some yoga in the time I would be doing my bicycle commute–keep stretching out my hips and strengthening them.

It certainly can’t hurt.

Restorative.

Anyway.

Jumping ahead.

Suffice to say.

I am just happy that I finally took some action, funny how small it really is, just a few phone calls, and now I am moving forward and getting it dealt with.

I don’t always understand my process and why it is the way it is, but I can see when I am balking and I didn’t want to be balking anymore.

Especially when I went out to the grocery store this past Sunday and saw a spider web on it–normally I come in through the garage and my scooter is parked in the foyer of the front of the house so I don’t see it every day.

That was it.

Last straw!

I wiped the dust of the seat and vowed I was going to take care of it.

I contacted my friend on Monday and asked for Chris Ward’s number and the guy that he recommends for tows and got both numbers today via text.

First up was Chris.

Who, as it turns out, has retired from hobbyist Vespa repairs.

He is too busy with his current job and referred me to Barry.

A call to Barry.

A call to Dave.

And voila!

It’s being taken care of.

And I have the resources to care for it.

There’s a little money left over in savings from after I bought my new laptop and I can afford to do this.

I’m excited at the prospect of getting back in the saddle and scooting around the city.

My legs could use a break.


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