Intimacy

I was growing. Growing as a woman.
All awry inside but definitely outside ….. As my breasts were evolving, I was having feelings also. I wanted so much to be touched by a man, to feel passion, to explore. It wasn’t about sex, or penetration. It was more about intimacy I wanted to explore things that a man at that age wasn’t able to comprehend. I was a hopeless romantic. It would get me into trouble in the following years. Misconstruing sex for love

Oh how I yearned for love and acceptance. I just wanted to feel a man’s fingers gliding around the pathways of my yearning breasts……so soft, gently so deliberate. I wanted his lips on mine softly to feel his tongue collide with mine. To look at me, is what I wanted. Connection and intimacy is what I really needed. I needed to be understood.

In college it was difficult. I had the mind of a 12 year. Let down continuously…… What was I thinking? I was being used, but at the same time I let it happen. Again I felt alone, isolated. It was me against them. Just like it was me against my family. It was brutal back then. I was also fighting my eating disorder. Eating at night and sneaking food around my roommates. It was sick, It was insidious, It was exhausting……..