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Detachment

It used to be that when I was kissing someone; I’d be so in my own head. It was distracting. And nothing ever felt real.

We would be making out, and then all of a sudden it would somehow lead to us having sex. And I could never understand how I’d gotten there. There was always this strange, dreamlike quality to it. It was like having an out of body experience.

I was so detached from myself and from what my body was experiencing that I rarely ever felt any pleasure. And I never felt anything mentally or emotionally. I felt like an inanimate object. Like a table or a rock.

Afterwards, I would feel nothing. Not happy, or sad, or satisfied. I didn’t want to cuddle. I felt nothing. I was always just blank.

I know I’ve spent most of my life feeling blank. But this was a different blankness. I keep toying with it in my mind and turning it over and over again.

I always detached from the experience so much that I barely consider what was happening to even be sex. I could never tell when things were transitioning from one phase to the next. I never made the conscious choice to have sex with those men. I just never stopped them from progressing to the next step.

And now I’ve finally had sex with someone that I actively chose. It didn’t feel like I was dreaming. I was right there, fully enjoying it. For the first time in my entire life.

Afterwards, I felt happy and satisfied. And I wanted to cuddle for the first time in my life. Unfortunately, I chose the wrong man to have sex with because he didn’t want to cuddle. But that really isn’t the point.

Next time, I am going to choose the right man. And have sex that I am fully present for and can completely enjoy. And I will actually feel something before, during, and after.

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