I fought and fought writing down these words for fear that they may become real again. That the hurt would surface once again like it did so on December 31 at 7 p.m. when I felt so low, like everything was out of my control. I was hurt, confused, abandoned and scared. My heart had been ripped out of my chest by a guy who doesn’t even know me that well and who I am convinced won’t ever want to.
I don’t look at my breasts the same anymore. They are no longer gifts given to me by my Creator, but rather weapons I have the choice to use and fight for this thing our society calls “love.” And to think I fell right into his little game, thinking it was the only way I was going to find the acceptance and intimacy I wanted so desperately just goes to show how easy it is to go low when we are low. When we are vulnerable we want vulnerability back. We want to feel that someone wants to go there with us. When they do, we feel known.
I felt that with him. But I was not receiving the same kind of pleasure that he was. While his sexual needs were being met, my emotional needs were.
And let it be known that those are two VERY different kinds of pleasure.
I don’t want a guy who wants me because of my big breasts. I don’t want a guy whose attention is on what I can offer him sexually and not on how we can grow spiritually, emotionally and socially together.
I want a guy that chooses me for what comes out of my mouth, what I do with my passions and dreams and for the wisdom of my soul. I want a guy who can be honest with his own sexual desires, but is respectful enough to care about my heart and my soul, as well as my body. I want a guy who cares about the world, about the people in it, about the places not yet explored and about the duty we as humans have to take care of it. I want a guy who knows himself enough to know where his own insecurities and vulnerabilities lie.
And I am willing to wait. I will not change who I am in order to satisfy him. I will no longer feel bad for being a virgin. I will not settle.
I will not because I owe it to my soul, my heart and my body. Because I have this itty bitty piece of trust that I am holding onto that maybe one day that guy will come into my life.
And if not, I will continue to live my life, not afraid of the unknown, following my dreams and callings, and working towards the belief that I hold deep down inside of me that we are connected by our stories.
To my fellow women, you are enough. I know, I know, I’ve heard those words over and over again and have failed to really hear them. It wasn’t until, I myself, believed them that I felt their arms wrap around me in my fragile state of being. You have a choice to make. You can continue to sell your body to society’s idea of love and come up dry every single time. Or, you can open yourself up to the possibility that your body is not your only weapon. That your mind, your heart and your soul are just as sexy because you are enough.
To the men who will read this, you are enough. Do you believe this? I believe that you are susceptible to the same amount of hurt that we as women are. I don’t know if I can speak on behalf of all women, but please hear this: masculinity is not attractive. Pretending you have it all together, that you are strong, that you believe it is your duty to take care of us is NOT what we want to see. We want to see that you, just like us, have insecurities, that you cry, yes, you can cry, that you hurt, just like we do. And that’s okay. You are enough.
So may we all continue to open our eyes to the dirty ways our society is teaching us what love means and how we are supposed to find it. May we choose to be more in tune with our vulnerabilities and the lens that our pain paints. May we all realize that we are on this journey together. That we all long to feel loved and connected and accepted for who we are. And may we be open to the ways love will stir us, complete us, move us and teach us.