A lot of my misspent youth was spent flexing my sex appeal. My journal carefully listed every boy I'd kissed, then graduated to every boy I'd slept with. At some point in college, I became more discriminate, stating that I had to be "in love" with the boy in order to "go all the way." Hubby was intimidated when he told me I was #4 for him, and I told him he was Sweet 16 for me.
I loved the chase. Loved the flirting, the reeling in, the mind fuck that told me everything about the boy so that he was hooked. It was powerful. The best ones were ones like FB - confidently playing the game with almost equal prowess. At 22 I stole the virginity of my buddy's 17 year-old cousin because he was such a smart ass during our beer pong rivalry. He deserved it. I also seduced the 35 year-old restaurant owner where I waited tables in college. Equal opportunity offender.
I had serial monogamous relationships, don't get me wrong. I didn't cheat on my boyfriends. And I stayed with each one until I knew he was not husband material. The dalliances came in between the boyfriends, then I'd find a new one.
When Hubby and I hooked up the first time, he was engaged to a girl who ran in our circle of friends. I had had it with the guy I'd been on-again-off-again for 5 years, telling him we were off-again for good. I rented a hot tub for a party, and since the fiance was in graduate school out of town, he came to the party stag. I remember being drunk and kissing him in the doorway to the kitchen. He was the last to leave, and we talked about things that interested me. I remember reading him a John Donne poem and being impressed by his enthusiasm.
Turns out he doesn't really like poetry, he just wanted me to be impressed by his enthusiasm.
He broke off his engagement, and I decided that I was done chasing boys. I was ready to settle down. He was perfect Hubby material, and still is. He confessed to the priest who married us about how we started out on such sinful terms. The priest told him God works all things for good. Conscience cleansed.
I was working my first grown-up job. No sooner had I put the band on my finger than a hottie at work started flirting with me. I had nerves of steel. I liked the attention, but firmly attested my devotion to my new Hubby. Gradually, I either stopped noticing men flirting with me, or I began working a vibe that was completely asexual. I amassed girlfriends and focused on my professional image. I decorated the house, visited family, and got bit by the Baby bug. Again. And again.
Ages 4, 2, and 0 was the hardest year. I remember sitting on my bed asking God why I wasn't happy in my beautiful home with my beautiful children and my beautiful marriage. Hubby and I worked through the bullshit of, "I expected you to be a SAHM," "Yeah, so did I, but I'm losing my mind. I need to work." After 5 years of SAHM, I started my first business with a girlfriend. It was so exciting to have a creative outlet! Hubby made sure that I knew that our family money and time were not to be used for this business. I worked while kids were in preschool, and funded the business as profits came in.
AND, I got to dress up again! I remember asking some girlfriends if they thought it was wrong of me to enjoy getting dressed up - how fucked up is that?!
I also started networking, which put me in the presence of other men regularly. I realized I could banter wittily with these guys and it felt like flirting. Secret thrill. But no desire to go beyond that. Perfectly happy to go home to Hubby and kids.
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