20 February 2014

32 Years Old, 215 Pounds

Today is my birthday. So naturally, with my luck, I wrote a whole post and it disappeared. Woohoo, happy birthday to me.

I don't mean to sound bitter. I just really hate birthdays. Turning 32 feels like turning 92...I feel so fucking old.

But I actually feel better than I have since...well, for as long as I can remember. That's pretty awesome.

The thing about turning 32 is that it's supposed to be a woman's sexual peak. This is supposed to be my prime time. I should be raring to go.

But I'm not. I'm terrified that I'll spend 32 like I did 31, and 30, and 29...too self conscious and petrified of having my girlfriend see me naked that I've avoided intimacy like Lindsay Lohan avoids jail time.

I want my 32nd year to be full of great sex, like just awesome sex every night. I have an insanely hot girlfriend, I feel better and look better than I have in my entire life, and I'm evidently in my sexual prime.

Unfortunately, I have a long way to go before I can feel comfortable enough to actually enjoy sex. I mean, I love pleasuring my girlfriend, but I hate her touching me or looking at me. I wasn't always this self conscious, even when I weighed more than I do now, but I was usually wasted and besides, that was before I had a boyfriend stop in the middle of going down on me, saying, "You disgust me," and walking out. That shattered my soul, and it's the reason that my girlfriend doesn't get nearly enough sweet sweet loving. (Yeah, that guy was a total dick. I'll tell you about him sometime...)

From the beginning of Weight Watchers, one of the main reasons I have wanted to lose weight is to feel better naked (which is a pretty universal goal) and I'm hoping that this year I can make some progress. If I can't feel sexy at 32, my scientific sexual peak, I may never feel sexy again...and then, what's the fucking point of anything?

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