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Truth or Dare:
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My truth: The only thing more frustrating than trying to find a parking spot on campus when I’m late for class is sorting through the questions that circle my mind when I’m attracted to someone. After deciding a man is worthy of my time and attention, I beign to explore the possibilities of what it would be like to be with him.
I think: “Would he sing with me in the car, or be annoyed by my necessity for silliness? Would he be open to a spontaneous request to go star-gazing in the mountains? How would his fingers feel wiping tears away from my cheek, or pulling my hair back as he passionately kisses me?”
I’ll spend ample time evaluating the answers to these questions before I choose to be intimate with a man. At this point, I’ll ponder, “What will his skin taste like?” Then, “This better be worth blowing off that study group!” And finally, “I can’t wait to snuggle up next to him in that sexy button up shirt he’s wearing.” I’m a firm believer in an active, healthy sex life. If things are lack-luster between the sheets with a man, it’s much harder for me to be interested in a long-term relationship. On occasions when I’m left howling at the moon (and if I’ve found an intellectual equal) I’ll advance to the next set of questions:
“Would he put up with me leaving wet towels on the floor? Could I tolerate his snoring every night? Will he be OK with my need for alone time, and will he be jealous of my friends? If our relationship were to end, how badly will it hurt, and how distracting will it be to other things in my life?” If you’re a commitment-phobe like me, pondering these things makes you immediately locate your Nikes so your feet can outpace your hormones as you make like a hay-farmer and bail. Life experience made me a 28-year-old hopeless romantic who doesn’t believe in the fairytale concept of “love.”
I try not to concern myself with finding a relationship. I throw myself into work, school . whatever I can summon to keep my mind off the memory of being in love, which is easier said than done. I secretly yearn for the companionship I enjoyed while in a committed relationship. I miss staying up all night talking about life, the universe and everything. I miss inside jokes. I miss crawling into a familiar lap after a defeating day at the office and escaping into the sound of my lover’s heartbeat while he runs his fingers through my hair.
(Sigh . I really miss that part.)
However, there is a lot I don’t miss. Like having to ask permission to hang out with my friends, or being made to feel guilty for my ambition. In a healthy relationship these things wouldn’t be a problem. But having to put the effort and energy into getting to the point where I know a relationship is healthy isn’t worth the time lost when relationships don’t work out, which is most of the time.
As enticing a fine-specimen of Man Candy may be . I’m unapologetically more into myself and thoroughly enjoy the relationship I’ve cultivated there. I love to discover new talents I didn’t know I had, or reach goals I never thought possible. Life has never been so invigorating and I’ve never felt more passionate, sexy and alive than I have while existing in the state of mind – where I am no one’s master, and no one is master over me, and where I am immune to cupids’ arrow. This is my truth.
My dare: To once again be vulnerable. To knock down my walls and come out of hiding. To put my Nikes away and take time to answer the questions I’ve been running from. To allow myself to consider not all relationships have masters. My dare is to envision a modern “fairy-tale” when it comes to sex and love- and share my thoughts with you.
Shannon Morgan