But there is just so much I want to talk about, I don’t even know where to begin, so brace yourself, cause I’ma just jump right in.
First off, the sex embargo has officially been lifted. What?! What?! For many reasons really, but mostly because I really needed to have sex again. The embargo lasted exactly 5 months, to the day, and started with the last person I was with….sexually.
Awwwwwwwwwwwwww shit. No she didn’t!
Yes. Yes. She did.
Side note: my mom is going to read this and be like, “Really, Natalie? Really?!” And then I’m going to say, “…yes.”
Side note, side note: She doesn’t like when I write about sex. And then I’m like, “Have you read my blog?” And then she is going to say, “…yes.”
Everything happened like I thought would happen. It was amazing (this person never did disappoint), as I had assumed, but I did awkward things, and said douchey things, which only makes me wonder out loud,
“How do I get laid?”
“It’s cause you’re hot.”
And while no, I didn’t have an emotionally fucked up freak out that would send me into another couple months of hysteria and insecurity, that I was so afraid of having. I still had a freak out of sorts.
Which I still have yet to figure out what the freak out was about. I wasn’t emotionally freaked. Or mentally freaked. Or physically freaked. (Is that a thing? Fuck it. It is now.) I think I was freaked out cause I wasn’t freaked out…
I’ve been beyond stressed (and still am), but the sex(ing) had allowed me to calm down, drastically and clear my mind.
It was really the new beginning. There’s a lot of new people in my life. A lot of new opportunities. A lot of things I love.
And sometimes it just takes accepting the moment when you realize your old life is really over.
I always knew this would be an issue. I hold on to situations way too long. Grudges, bad friends, my pride. All that shit has gotten in the way of me. It seems easier to live in a life of familiarity, no matter how shitty it’s gotten, than move on to the next thing.
Keep calm and carry on? Yeah, that’s bullshit. And those who actually believe that are filled with even more bullshit. If you don’t allow yourself to freak out, how are you ever supposed to move on?
I needed a 5-month freak out that started with sex and ended with sex to figure out what I needed.
And you know what really I needed? Sex.
Since moving to NYC a year and a half ago, I feel like I’m finally here.
I want to thank all the people that helped me get here emotionally, that kept me sane when I was working my way to NYC. I want to thank all of the distractions (good and bad) that kept my mind off how scared I really was of my future. But now I have to finally let you go.
That’s not to say you won’t be in my life anymore (unless you were a bad distraction, then BUH-BYE), but it’s time to love my new life.
Because, honestly, I finally do.