In my twenties I had one outrageous weekend where I slept with five men. I was in San Jose that day, for some reason, and as I drove from San Jose back to my townhouse in the upper peninsula, I had stopped in several places along my way and met up with boys I dated at the time. I would stop to say hi, we'd have sex and I'd then get dressed and continued my journey up north until I got home. As I returned home I saw a boy who I was dating in his place, and then I drove into city that evening to see another man. By the weekend ended I slept with all five men. The act of sex was not that significant, it was not even that memorable by all accounts. I couldn't even remember all five of the men I bedded that day, but I did remember there were five men that weekend.
I had tried to be with several men at the same time, but I found that being with all of them became tiring, and eventually I decided to date one man, but then I got bored, so one day I just stopped seeing men. I communicated with them still, and I kept these men around but I never did find them to be that interesting. Eventually I stopped dating for a while. I kept my life busy. Monday through Thursday evening I worked out of town, Friday I tried to chill and Saturday I often went on dates but I didn't throw myself at men, I kept it at a distance. Since I was young, and professionally successful and cute, it was easy to meet men. By the time I turned twenty six, it was clear to me that I had nowhere else to advance to but to find a good boy to get settled with and get married. Career, check; money, check; looks, check; adventure, check; real estate, check; friends, check. The list was a full one and it represented my life in a nutshell: a series of goals to be accomplished, and when all of them were accomplished, I wanted something else.
I wanted not just companionship. I wanted a soul mate. Someone who was open and wanted me in his life, as a full time partner. I wanted a partner.
When I met women these days, old or young, random strangers or friend of friends, they often complimented my jewelry or clothes, shoes or nails. There was always something that they admired, they wished to have and they wished to be. I thought that they reason that they liked me so was that I was self assured, and I wore things well. I was finally confident and calm. I thought, boy if I knew what I knew when I was twenty six, I would not have rushed to grow up. I would have been just fine being the way I was. I had no reason to grow up so fast, to be an attractive middle age woman so fast, I wished that I didn't jump into this adulthood life style that fast.
One day perhaps I would be someone I would be proud of. But until that day, I would be someone every other woman looked up to, and wished that they could be.
I had tried to be with several men at the same time, but I found that being with all of them became tiring, and eventually I decided to date one man, but then I got bored, so one day I just stopped seeing men. I communicated with them still, and I kept these men around but I never did find them to be that interesting. Eventually I stopped dating for a while. I kept my life busy. Monday through Thursday evening I worked out of town, Friday I tried to chill and Saturday I often went on dates but I didn't throw myself at men, I kept it at a distance. Since I was young, and professionally successful and cute, it was easy to meet men. By the time I turned twenty six, it was clear to me that I had nowhere else to advance to but to find a good boy to get settled with and get married. Career, check; money, check; looks, check; adventure, check; real estate, check; friends, check. The list was a full one and it represented my life in a nutshell: a series of goals to be accomplished, and when all of them were accomplished, I wanted something else.
I wanted not just companionship. I wanted a soul mate. Someone who was open and wanted me in his life, as a full time partner. I wanted a partner.
When I met women these days, old or young, random strangers or friend of friends, they often complimented my jewelry or clothes, shoes or nails. There was always something that they admired, they wished to have and they wished to be. I thought that they reason that they liked me so was that I was self assured, and I wore things well. I was finally confident and calm. I thought, boy if I knew what I knew when I was twenty six, I would not have rushed to grow up. I would have been just fine being the way I was. I had no reason to grow up so fast, to be an attractive middle age woman so fast, I wished that I didn't jump into this adulthood life style that fast.
One day perhaps I would be someone I would be proud of. But until that day, I would be someone every other woman looked up to, and wished that they could be.
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