That Little Black Book

Yes, this post will be too much information (TMI) about me personally, but oh well. The little black book. Yes, the record of my past conquests. Or, I suppose with the double standard in place, the record of how big of a slut a girl is and how much game a guy has. It’s all bull. Now, I believe I have reached slut status based on my number, and based on that personal knowledge, I would advise against sex before marriage not because of the slut image, but because of how it has made me feel after meeting “The One”. Let’s back up…

I slept around for a number of reasons, some of which may still be undiscovered. My mom had remarried since she and my father split. My stepdad was nice enough, but my mom was more focused on work than my brother and I. I met a bad influence in 7th grade, and it spiraled down from there. However, once I started, I kept going because I kept thinking, “This can’t be what all the fuss was about? Maybe that was the wrong guy.” So I racked up partners. I have since learned that those thoughts are rather common. These are the things I wish I knew then! Also, after my first marriage failed, I turned to guys again to distract me from the trauma I had endured. I could go on with excuses, but I digress…

My hubby knows what he’s doing in that arena, but then there’s the part of me that is jealous because he didn’t learn this stuff from being with me. It hurts that we never got to grow together sexually. There was no innocence to it, and if I had life to do over again, that is something I would have wanted for myself… and something I would have wanted to give The One. We get one life- just one. I can go down the road that I might have never met him if I hadn’t made my life’s choices and feel better about it, but with all the love that I have for him in my heart, I wish I could have given him more. I wish he had been my every “first” and my every “last”… my everything. I also wish I was his. I hate going out and seeing someone he knows and wondering if they had ever been together. I hate being around my husband and someone I’ve been with, which is one reason I refuse to go to my high school reunion. I get that this is different for everyone and has a large part to do with reframing the situation. I know I might have another perspective later on, but for now… my hurtful truth is this: ladies, be very careful who you let into your hearts and between your legs. lol


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