Sexuality and Self worth
* Trigger warning! Trigger: abuse, neglect, or sexual abuse, Do not proceed. *
As a young girl I developed early. I was molested by the time I was 7 years old and hyper sexualized behavior became the inappropriate way I sought attention. Was what some part of my young, impressionable mind believed was expected me in life, in the world. And I learned fast that behaving in a more infantile way was no retreat to safety, it brought out the predators even more.
Don't worry, lots of counselors helped me past that. I learned that I have worth and value not associated with my body, or media attractiveness. I have intelligence, kindness, sass, wisdom, communication and artistic skills. So much more to me than my breast size. By 30, I was beginning to embrace being a woman and enjoying my right to have my own sexuality, Separate from that of whomever I slept with. I allowed myself to be an empowered, sexual being, artist, lover, roommate, back to college for my degree, living life out loud.
My profession, the way I make a living is all about sharing safe, nonsexual, healing touch with humanity, and teaching my students to do the same with emotional intelligence and clear boundaries and communication. I am a safe, kind, nurturing, non-sexualized, mother figure in my work, and my work place. But lately, I feel that the pursuit of my career, and my very asexual, long term friend crush, Life partner, have left me no place to express this very important, and empowered part of myself. I am approaching 50 and the cruel, inappropriate world no longer sees me as a sexual being or object -just when I had become comfortable with it.-
I feel like a part of me is dying, neglected again like my inner child. But this time I don't feel I have an imagination, or "hope for the future" to pull me out of it. I feel as If I am less. Less than who I am meant to be. Less from living inside of a smaller space with fewer options. I feel less, small, shriveled and incomplete. I feel invisible now. Unseen and forgotten. As if I had only just begun to figure out who I could be, and the opportunity is gone before I could see how.
Ok. yes. I am depressed. My life isn't bad, and I have made some parts of it comfortable. But I deserve Happiness in my home life. Not just occasionally in my work. I can't just get another new partner that is younger or likes sex more, because I need the emotional bond. I need to feel safe to be free. So I wilt on the couch while he does whatever the hell he does on the porch, hour after hour, year after year. And I am alone. Born alone, Die alone. Waste away, alone. And even though I am still very pretty, kind, talented, smart, the world goes on without me and no-one knows I am here.
