For the last few months, I’ve been attending this MeetUp on and off that centers around concepts of mindfulness and meditation. I was drawn to this MeetUp because the concepts of mindfulness and meditation are extremely interesting to me, concepts that I’ve been trying to integrate into my life more as I’ve been actively working through personal and emotional baggage.
The last time I attended this MeetUp, the group leader–a middle aged man who I suppose is between forty and fifty–asked me if I’d be interested in meeting up for some coffee at some point in the future to discuss some aspects of meditation and mindfulness more in depth. He mentioned he found some of the points I brought up in our discussion that night interesting, and would like to talk more.
I didn’t see any harm in meeting up for one coffee chat. These are topics I genuinely enjoy talking about, after all, and this man is a wealth of knowledge regarding the topics of meditation and mindfulness. I thought I could learn a thing or two from. I saw him as a teacher figure, and I was eager to learn more.
That is, until he started sending me conversational text messages, and seemed way too eager to see me again when we parted from our coffee chat (“if you want to meet next weekend, let me know”).
Wait, I thought, is this guy looking for a friendship…or something more?
This man, whom I only wanted to learn a thing or two from, seemed to have more than a Continue reading “How Do You Know?”
an immoral or dissolute woman; prostitute.
Obsolete. a dirty, slovenly woman.
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What do you think of when you hear the word slut? Probably something akin to the dictionary definition above (courtesy of dictionary.com a.k.a my go to site for quickly defining the English language).
Slut isn’t a pretty word. Definition aside, it doesn’t even sound nice. It sounds dirty. Just like the the image it defines, an image that that has become so dirty because of our societal perceptions of woman and sex.
I actually just experienced this first hand the other day–this being, the centuries old societal perception of women that insists that we females cunningly tempt men into sex because we’re sinful, dirty, second-best, cut from Adam’s rib, etc., etc. The experience? When I called out a married coworker for flirting with me (something that has been going on on and off this whole summer, mind you). Upon making my point, he and another coworker exchanged amused glances; the other coworker simply Continue reading “Slut is NOT a Nice Word”
I was put on “the pill,” as they call it, in October of 2009.
Early one fall morning–the morning that my third attempt to earn my driver’s license was scheduled, in fact–a nasty, gut wrenching ovarian cyst erupted within me. Oh man, was it painful. I don’t think I’ve ever been in as much pain in my life. I remember writhing around on the couch, clutching the right side of my abdomen, wondering what the hell was wrong with me.
Well, needless to say, my license would end up taking one more month to obtain because that nasty, gut wrenching ovarian cyst, which I was worried might be appendicitis at the time, landed me in the Emergency Room.
Fast forward a week or two to my first ever trip to a gynecologist. A lady doctor. At 16, I felt so adult to be visiting such a doctor. At 16, I listened as my brand new gynecologist explained to me the benefits that birth control could have on my body–not just that it would help prevent further ovarian cysts erupting, but that it could help with acne, it would make my periods lighter, and of course, the obvious–it would keep me from pregnancy.
At 16, I was three years away from my first sexual experience and I sure as hell had no plans for sex in the immediate future…but lighter, regulated periods sure sounded nice and I couldn’t deny the fact that another ovarian cyst eruption was not at the top of my “to have happen again” list. So, I went and filled Continue reading “Dear Doc…Or, a Birth Control Story”
Do you want to go have sex in the bathroom?
Said the guy not two minutes after he asked to dance with me.
I had nothing else to say to him on the matter. It wasn’t going to happen. Bathroom sex (we’re talking about public bathroom sex, mind you) isn’t exactly at the top of my bucket list. Well, actually, it’s not on my bucket list at all. Quite frankly, it sounds a bit raunchy to me. Plus, I’m not really one for hook ups. But that’s just me.
“Uh…okay, well it’s okay. We can still dance together.” Continue reading “Oh, You Just Made Me Feel a Bit Violated…”