Thursday, May 9, 2013

Learning Curve


This is cross posted on my body positive blog, imperfectfigure.wordpress.com.
Tuesday night I went to dinner with a friend.  He kindly listened to my sob story, gave me some really good advice, and then magically turned the conversation away from relationships to other things we share.  It was a much needed respite from being inside my own head.
The highlight of the evening was watching the teenage couple in the next booth.  It was hard to tell at first if they were a couple or just friends because their body language was really awkward.  He was hanging on her every word, while she was looking more at the table than at him.  I watched as the young girl, whose back was to my friend, beckoned her boy to come to her side of the table.  When he arrived, she pulled him close and began whispering in his ear, occasionally glancing to us.  If I had to guess, she thought that she was being sensual.  From my angle she was being obvious and juvenile… but then again she was a juvenile.  If she had just been paying attention to her companion, she would have seen that he never looked away from her, he clearly wanted to hold her hand or be closer to her than he was.  But she almost never made eye contact.  If she was trying to make her interest known, she could have done so with nothing more than a smile, a well placed look, and perhaps a light brush of fingertips.  
My friend and I had just been discussing BDSM, the politics of trans/cis interactions, and polyamory.  I couldn’t help but wonder if she had heard me talking about blowjobs and service and had decided filling her boytoy in on my (gasp) slutty behavior was good cover for making an advance.  I also couldn’t stop laughing.  My friend suggested that perhaps I should be giving her pointers on how to really  interact with the opposite sex.  I suggested that if I did so she wouldn’t date boys her own age very long.  
As I drove home I reflected on the experience.  Sometimes it feels as though it wasn’t that long ago that I was the teenage girl with barely an inkling of the effect I had on the boys around me.  I’ve always been a plus sized girl, and even now, 15 or so years after my first sexual encounter, it surprises me to hear a man tell me he thinks I’m sexy.  And that’s sad, because I happen to think I’m pretty sexy.  And I don’t just mean that physically.  I am confident in my sexuality, my desires, and my abilities.  I like who I am, and that projects as sexy and confident most of the time.  
I guess we all just spend so much time listening to the assholes of the world tell us that we’re not good enough, we have a hard time listening to the real men who know what they want and aren’t afraid to tell us what they really think. 

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