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Writing Tripe Since 2004
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Monday, January 17, 2005
Ramblings on My Trip to Austin Jan 8-Jan 16
Let me start by saying that I was just on one of the best vacations of my entire life. I can't remember the last extended time off I had that only revolved around me and my agenda. It was amazing. I did a lot of thinking on the plane on the way home about how I wanted to present it in my blog. I figure that no one is really interested in a day by day account of what exactly I did. I wrote one, but mainly just so I wouldn't forget a thing. As I was writing it, I was hating the fact that all those things were already only memories. I think what I have decided to do is write about it in pieces. Kind of like different takes on the trip. So here goes.
Take One: Sometimes You Can Go Back

Probably the worst thing that Ben did to me, at the root of it all, was to make me doubt my worth, or, more accurately, my loveability. He made everything that I thought about my sensuality seem false. My appeal, I had always thought, was a certain gentle sweetness, a soft vulnerability that was not put on. I could be the aggressor though, and when I was, the fact that the night before I had sat next to him, closed my eyes, and tried to memorize his face with my hands made it even more exciting.

In "leaving" the way he did, he somehow stripped me of that sense of myself. And because I cannot stand naked in the mirror assured of any physical draw, that knowledge of which he robbed me was my most cherished possession--like a pearl I could hold in my hand and use to smooth away the roughness of my body.

Walking wounded, I began dating before I was ready, like I had something to prove. After a series of disastrous evenings, I gave up. Really, I think, I was searching for my pearl. But nobody can just give that back to me. Like an oyster starting with a grain of sand, I have to grow a new one to carry inside.

In Austin, an amazing brother, a few good friends, one old obsession, and some much needed embraces made me look back and realize how far I have come. How I walked into my own womanhood somehow, and, blindly or not, made my own way. I've come through some rough spots quite admirably all-in-all, and I should be proud. That pride is my first grain of sand. I am worth what I want.

Amazingly, that was conveyed by someone I once thought I couldn't live without holding my face in his hands and kissing me on the forehead--basking in it, but not being owned by it anymore. And by a different wonderful guy's not saying anything mean about having to let me cling to him to stay upright after numerous pitchers of beer and some tequila; to my apology the next day and question as to whether I had been inappropriate or funny, he simply said "You're always funny." And a brother who would still think I was cool even if he didn't have to love me.

My female friends always make everything special. They are my fortress and my shield. But they could have said--and quite often do say--a million times all that I re-learned by falling asleep in the crook of a male friend's arm with the touch of his lips still on my cheek.
posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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