Rejection

Hope is on her way. The anticipation – and the uncertainty – is killing me.

My mother left me, and I can’t stop remembering it.

My core masturbatory fantasy has shifted. It’s much less bodily, much more mental; much less sensory, much m

I’m a big fan of clear, respectful communication.

I imagine myself at the center of everyone’s decision-making. This makes me vitally important. And profoundly vulnerable.

A brief explanation of some of my sensitivity to rejection and abandonment.

I had a great date, and then, I found myself confronting how much I fucking hate rejection and abandoment. Even as it’s not clear that either is happening.

Being a sex blogger can be hard, but it’s rewarding, in often surprising and complicated ways.

It was a Tinder date. I wasn’t especially optimistic, and, it turns out, I had good reason not to be especially optimistic. I really should trust my gut.

When you reject me, am I rejected? What lessons do I draw from my rejection? What is the meaning of my rejection? And is the rejection mine? Or yours?