I broke up with a man I had been dating for a few months earlier this week and it's a very odd place to be. It's not like I miss him, I mean it's only been a couple of days and I've been on that many dates since he decided he didn't want to talk (over something SO ridiculously trivial I laugh when I think about it), but I'm already missing the repetition of it. By now he would've texted me to tell me about his blindingly boring day and I would've listened because he's talking and I knew it made him feel better to unload on (and in, but that's another matter) me. We'd exchange words of how we couldn't wait to see one another come Thursday; I'd be excited to just get through the day tomorrow to see him and we'd spend Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday together (well I'd spend it at his place while he worked for most of that).

I knew we weren't going to go the distance, but I was expecting a more substantial end; something that made it clear there was no going back and not some premature cut-off due to his childishness. Is it ridiculous to say I was half afraid of what would have happened if we did?

He said "I love you" convincingly but in the back of my head I knew

it wasn't me he loved.

He loved the idea of someone. He loved having someone waiting for him when he got home. He loved someone who would listen to him and caress him as he fell asleep. He loved just curling up into someone at night. He just loved being close. I misread him initially: he invited me to his house for the second date and I thought he was just a man trying to get off. Rather, he wanted to expedite the process of fostering a relationship.

That's why on date three he asked me to spend the night. That's why a month or so in he invited me to meet his mother. That's why a week or so after that he gave me the key to his place. And soon afterward mistook my drunken comment of "that's why everyone loves you" to mean me saying "I love you". And I guessed I liked that.

Because I didn't correct him and continued to say I love you back and of my own volition; because I accepted the key; because I dodged meeting his mother but I became much less resistant to the idea; and because not only did I spend the night but I had dinner fresh out of oven when he got back from work as part of the extended third date (reading that myself I can't believe it). I wanted the same sort of comfort [and unabashed, latex free, sexscapade if I can be quite honest] he did by the quickest means possible.

Yet, that didn't stop me from being afraid of what would happen if we never found a reason to split up. That if we never had a reason to legitimately part ways, I would always wonder if splitting had been a terrible mistake. We had totally skipped that stage where we were just hot for each other all the time (though there were days of that that made me really miss the stage). We weren't really friends and we were never really "lovers" in the romantic sense of the word; we had just always been a couple.

There were no butterflies the first time he kissed me. Just anxiety that he might try and have sex the second date. There was no intense need to have him kiss me when we stood close. Just the knowledge that I knew I could kiss him. He was sweet enough. He was handsome enough. He was smart enough and tall enough and fit enough to be enough, for me. He was the kind of guy I wish I would've known in high school so we could've lost our virginity together.

But the fact remains that I could have been anyone and he would've treated me about the same. Lucky for him, I wasn't just anyone. We're over now, and how still makes me chuckle to myself a little bit, but we are.

And the fact I can recognise and be at peace with that, let's me know that's okay.

*You should probably ignore this sappy dribble. I went out on a couple dates with a guy, and we really hit it off. Something came up with him and now I'm afraid I might've caught feelings (dramatic organ here). I guess I just didn't realise how much I like liking someone.*

I think I'm a touchaholic. Whatever the 'philia' is for love of real affection, touching. What's more, I never really knew how much until I kissed and held hands with someone without it being affectionate if that makes sense?

I mean have you ever been face to face with someone in relative intimate proximity and you're trying to send messages from your brain to theirs of "kiss me. Come oooon. Kiss me already". Or you already know them and you're looking at their face and sudden feeling of warm delight just takes over and you move in for no real reason other than you wanted to. And you do it again. And Again. And again until. He talks. Like. This. Because. Every. Breath. Is met. With. A. Kiss. Or if you're lucky he gives up on trying to talk and just kisses you back.

Or maybe you guys are just sitting down having a real discussion and he just says something really, amazingly, sweet or just open and honest. With like his arm over your shoulder and you look up at him like 'wow. I really fucking like you and I kind of want to jump your bones right now'. And they didn't have to be rubbing your crotch or whispering dirty things in your ear (probably better he doesn't) but just like an arm on your bare shoulder or wrapped around your waist or your hands waffled together but you know you're turned on.

And I guess sex is nice for some people and all they can survive on but at the end of the day that's not what I fantasize about. I can enjoy getting dressed up and primped for a date. And the kissing feels nice too as does curling up with them after putting up the armrest in a movie theater. But nothing beats doing that stuff with a man you're actually crazy about.

Insert girlish sigh here

Why do women buy Cheekies/cheekinis? All underwear ends up looking like cheekies at the end of the day.

To the non-monogamous Doms who contact me,

I’m not quite sure what you expect as a non-monogamous Dom from a submissive that prefers monogamy. I’m not delusional enough to assume I can change your mind by trying to prove my worth over the other women you’re with, and I also don’t really have the patience. I’m not easily offended nor am I jealous.

But, you have to understand that with my lack of jealousy is a lack of investment. I can plainly see you’re not particularly invested in the relationship we would have going on, so I don’t have to be. I don’t have to wonder if I’m pleasing you the way you’d prefer, or if I was as affectionate as you’d need or if what I wear on a daily basis pleases you.

If I don’t, some other woman will.

Usually that’s used as a way to keep a woman in line if she’s not pleasing her significant other. For me, it’s just like a get out of jail free card. I don’t have to feel bad about not being at your beck and call. I don’t have to drop everything I’m doing to show up when you call me because you’ve made it clear you’re probably getting that from other women. I get to snap those handcuffs right off and be on my merry way.

But that’s not what I want.

I want to feel eager and a little antsy knowing that you’re waiting for me. I want to jump up when you call and feel compelled to go to you. I want to be concerned with whether enough I’m enough.

But I mean clearly you believe one woman can’t be. That’s fine. That is an absolutely practical way to look at things, and it makes sense: you’re never left wanting. But allow me to be just as pragmatic when I say there would be no emotional investment with you. I’d just be fooling around with you until someone I deemed worthwhile came along. This might sound natural to you, but call me old fashioned in the sense I’m not much of a hedonist. I’m very skilled at denying myself pleasure for larger goals. It also happens to take a lot for me to open myself up that intimately to someone, so if it’s not going anywhere, it’s just not happening. I had to learn that first-hand. Was it difficult? Not really. Did I enjoy myself? Not much.

So, if this were to go on, recognizing my lack of emotional investment:

If I disappoint you? Oh well.

I might say I’m sorry but when we part ways, will I still be? Probably not.

While you’re talking about this whole arrangement in terms of months, am I seeing your same vision? Unless it’s us parting ways, I don’t think so.

If I was a submissive to a dominant couple would I feel the same? Probably not. Those two are like one person, so unless they’re also messing around with other submissives then the rules don’t apply.

The fact is, if I did “see how things go” as you’d suggest you’d just be a little play partner until someone who wanted just one girl came along. I mean, that might not seem too bad for you, but it’s honestly a waste of my time. I’m 19, a girl, in college: if I wanted some fairly okay sex, I’d get it myself.

Without being here.

Probably without me having to shave.

Or wearing lacy underwear sets.

Perhaps sets that were cotton and didn’t match at all.

And probably still get paid for it if I wanted.

Might even avoid the penis pictures. (I agree, this last one is pretty idyllic, but in a perfect world…)

Look, I’m glad you’re up front about it because now I can avoid any venereal diseases you might incur. I commend you for not being a lying dirt-bag.

All that being said, I don’t want to be a part of your harem.

Too long; Didn’t read:

I don’t want to be your groupie that’s just sitting around using you for the time being, stop badgering me.

At what point is it okay to label a "Dom" as just a man, going through a mid-life crisis, looking for some hardly kinky sex? 

A few swats on the butt just because he wants to are ok, but I mean really? That's it. I have never understood why a boring sex life would be a deal-breaker but I understand that now. Maybe there's an opportunity to be more content in a relationship that's at least filling emotionally but that doesn't happen with someone that insists on an "open" relationship. I mean really? You have a girl nearly half your age willing to be led by the collar (quite literally) and ready to dote on you and you're still interested in keeping up with other women? 

There's no way this is going long-term.

Going back to NYC in a couple of weeks. A part of me is not looking forward to the hectic nature and the other part is just happy to be getting back on a plane.

"You're very pretty."

Clearly, I'm being coy. You'll look at me and I'll look away if I feel you staring too long. I gave you a wry smile and say 'thank you' or 'you're very kind' or even 'I'm genuinely flattered'.

Because I am.

I'll look at myself in the mirror and sometimes marvel at the sheer number of bones in my face compared to others. You are attractive I'll think off-handedly.

However, when you say it, that's a whole different story. I do think you're very kind because I don't really believe what you say. You must be stretching the truth at least a little; saying you think more of me than you do because it should make me feel good. And sometimes, it does. Hence, the 'thank you', because I do actually enjoy the confidence boost.

Other times it makes me uneasy. Clearly you must be trying to sell me something. Obviously you must want something. Blatantly you must be trying to get in my pants? I don't know but now my brain is going every which way to figure out what you think I might have to offer you.

Because the tallest, heaviest girl in the 5th grade, who was the first to grow boobs, never grows up to be actually "pretty". The girl who never wore around her glasses for fear of being ridiculed, hears those words but doesn't absorb them. Even after her skintone evened, she grew a few inches, and a round face was replaced with a mess of bone structures, she sometimes thinks you're still staring at that old girl. Surely, your compliment comes in the form of pity to a person who must not know what it's like to be attractive: you must be trying to give her that feeling, if only fleetingly.

So I'll say thank you for your kindness. Perhaps this is a day I'll take the compliment, or perhaps today I'll think you're staring at that old girl again.

I'm not being coy though, just trying to envision myself at face value.

WARNING: The post you are about to read is whiny and a bit narcissistic. Few of you might be able to relate. The following is based on true events. Viewer Discretion is (maybe) advised.

"well the thought of being with a black chick intrigues me as well...i love to try new things guess thats what intrigues me about black chicks"

This man was really after me because he thought his family wouldn't approve of me because I'm black. He liked the "taboo" it would represent. That's true. I am black. I was born on the continent of Africa. Some people are against interracial relationships. There's no disputing that. 

I know that's some people's fetish but it's not mine. My skintone shouldn't be the sole reason you want me. I'm a lot more than black, ya know? I'm an engineer, I interview at top financial firms and top universities; I was a vegetarian for a whole summer; I have career aspirations; I don't know how to put on makeup. I read, I keep up on current events. I have GREAT BIG 36DD BOOBS! I'm 19 with a body I spend 12 hours a week in the gym trying to perfect and you ignore all of that (and a pretty great ass and set of legs) to tell me how my skin tone makes you feel?

I mean seriously? If all you're going to want me for is sex as least say you're attracted to me. At least use some cheesy pick-up line or something. Don't make it seem like all I had to do was be born a different skin color to appeal to you. 

Are you even trying? What part of that was supposed to be a turn on for me?

Do you think because I'm black there's some magical secret to the universe between my legs? 

Trust me, if there was I'd take a contortion class and never leave my bedroom. I might even sell the secret for copious amounts of money. Am I though? No? Do you know why? Because there's nothing universally different about sex with me or any black woman just because of our skin tone. 

I went out to coffee with a potential Dom the other day and he literally never brought it up. It was the most beautiful thing I had experienced in a long time. Because, hello, hi, I'm a person. This isn't even a BDSM thing, this is a majority of white (sometimes Asian) guy that approaches me thing.

Word of advice:

If you are about to start your pick-up line with "ya know, I've always wanted to be with a black girl" or at some point in conversation go "I have black friends" and even sometimes " I love black women", just stop. I've already been put off.

New York City, here I come!

I went out to dinner and movie last night with a guy I thought was nice enough. Things were kind of rocky and with him for from the start because he couldn't manage to say a positive word about much of anything other than the food he was eating. 

Anywhere, while watching the movie, I, being the passionate and sometimes unnecessarily outspoken person I am, told the character in the movie to stop being a fool and call the police instead of just saying "what do I do; what do I do?". It was a sort of low whisper, not louder than he and I had been talking earlier. It was directed at him and we were two seats down from the closest other patrons. 

Long story short, he batted my knee with the back of his hand and told me something along the lines of "sh, it's a movie" and seemed rather cross. 

Call this strange but I have never let another man put his hands on me to reprimand me. And though sometimes I might dream about it, he didn't know that. He just hit me and told me to be quiet. Then, later, while we were leaving, the elevator wouldn't go up because it was overloaded and when I suggested we hop out, he did this odd light pinching motion. There was no actual pinch but just rather a sliding of his hands. That being said my tempered flared up still. I don't like being treated like a petulant child by some man I didn't otherwise give authority to do so. 

It feels like hypocrisy. 

Started taking pole classes recently; nothing makes you feel sexier than working up and down that pole. 

Well, nothing, not involving another person, makes you feel sexier than going up and down the pole.

I've never been flaked out on before. Especially not after I'd met someone previously. I understand how annoying and offputting it is now (not that I didn't understand before). I thought as a woman this kind of thing wouldn't be my concern.

I stand corrected. 

There is a certain messaging code of conduct that should be followed. I've observed a lot of men are upset that sometimes the women they write to don't respond. You should understand: You get out what you put in; with me at least.

Meaning is all you say is "Hello how r u" [not even proper punctuation? Couldn't even spell the words out?] all you probably get back is a "Well."/"Well thanks for asking." I think a lot of it is you have to pique someone's interest. 

That being said the way to to pique it incorrectly is naming yourself something like "sirupyourbutt". Are you really looking for anything serious with that name? Really? You cannot be looking for anything less more than a bot with that name. You shouldn't expect any self-respecting woman worth owning/being owned by would look at that name and say "Now there's a man with class". 

A great way to do it is to make your profile worth reading. Some give a half excuse like: "oh, no one reads those anyway" or "I just didn't feel like it". That may be true but seriously? What's to differentiate you from all the other men PMing that Domme/sub/slave? I understand some Doms think of it as jumping through hoops to get someone and they think that's beneath them. Okay. But, honestly, is what you're doing working? Are you getting the quality of women you want? This isn't a demand or anything; you want to have that woman jumping through hoops for you for a long time (I presume) even if this was some kind of "hoop" it'd be insignificant. 

Just finished my last midterm before break. If I was the type, I would be planning to get hammered right now. 

Today's just a good day.

Nothing is more off-putting than a Dom with bad grammar/spelling. I mean, when talking to anyone online, at all, that's a total turn-off but in a Dom? A man (or woman) who you're supposed to trust to guide and direct you, which requires a fair amount of intelligence and or at least the ability to pretend they do (enough to inspire that confidence in you) can't even form proper sentences? Or confuses the words devise and deceive?

It's not attractive. 

• One of the biggest problems I've had growing up was reconciling "being the good girl" with being a good woman. What's more, with being a great woman. 
• Being "a good woman" connotates an almost domestic outlook. I'm sure you've heard a man say he wants a good woman and he usually means to marry or be otherwise romantically involved with. Being a good girl didn't have that same connection: you could be a good girl by being sweet and patient to anyone. 
• Growing up and being the good girl meant I was expressly forbidden from thinking of boys in any manner other than friendly. To this day I've noticed I can't imagine guys I know, in an everyday context, as dating material. It just seems so foreign and strange to me. The only way I've been able to reconcile the two in my head is keeping them totally separate. I can't think or fantasize about the men I know the way I can some man who asked for my phone number at a coffee shop. It's almost like sacrilege. I imagine everyone I know in a rather friendly/everyday context as asexual beings. It's not true, I know this, but knowing doesn't change attitude. 
• But it's not just in the area relating to the rougher sex that causes me problems: it's just my everyday opinions. Good girls do as they're told and are polite and friendly. They do their best to try and get on everyone's good side and stay there. A good woman might do the same thing some of the time to try and please her significant other but realises that to make things last that's not sustainable. A great woman should speak her mind, I'm told. It's like there was a switch I missed being flipped growing up. Speaking my mind isn't easy for me. I hate, no absolutely deplore, no despise, the feeling of people disliking me and sometimes that's the consequence of people voicing their opinions. Whether someone agrees with me or not is a trivial matter, we can disagree and still be friends, but dislike is not something I'm used to. 
• Growing up I did as I was told for the most part because what else would I be doing? If I wasn't makings A's what else would I be doing? If I wasn't helping a teacher after class what else would I be doing? If I wasn't staying quiet when asked, what could I have to voice that was so important? Praise felt great and it still does. Now I'm just supposed to shake that off at the drop of a hat? 
• I can't. The new struggle to, not just be a "good woman", but a great one causes me anxiety every day. I have to show a little more backbone. Be a little more aggressive. Constantly try and out wit everyone else. It's no longer a question of what would I be doing.
• But rather what am I going to do.
• It's tiring. 
• I just want to go back in time when being the good girl was so easy. Or go back in time and try and be that more aggressive confident person that seems to be what's hailed now. 

It really bothers me when someone offers to be an online Dom and then thinks I'm foolish or naive for declining. I understand a lot of it is just communication and that you can be available by phone anytime but so could a local Dom. I'm flattered, genuinely, when something about my profile sparked enough interest for someone to even ask but it's just not for me.

How do you inspire chills in me through a glance through a web camera? How do you replicate the feel of your hands around my neck through text? How would any expression of affection be the same if your skin can't feel it? How am I supposed to learn any kind of lesson if you're not there to make sure that if my brain won't remember it, my ass will?

So thanks, but no thanks to all the long-distance Doms. 

First date in a while. Today was a good day. 

What does having admirers do for you? Is it strange if people add you to their favorite's list and then never talk to you? Or is that the norm?

1. So my Dom and I were supposed to get together for the first time in 2 months tomorrow. Guess who texted to cancel though?
2. Now guess who half expected it?
3. And guess who now feels like the idiot of the year?
4. To be honest I wish I could say I felt crushed and hurt, but I don't.
5. Do I like him? Yes.
6. Am I foolish enough to figure my heart should be anywhere in this equation?
7. I might feel like an idiot but I'm smarter than that. Give me some credit. 
8. Does that change the fact I still learned to knit so I could make him a scarf over the holidays because I thought he might get cold when he travels on business and couldn't find anything I thought was fitting? Or that I purchased cuter bra sets so in the few minutes he'd let me keep them on he'd have something nicer to look at than my solid colored usuals? Nope. None of that changed. 
9. Now, would he get any of that stuff if he saw me anytime now? Well, hm. I dunno. It would look a little foolish to bring someone something you made for them for the holidays well after they're over. I also don't think it would matter if he saw the sets anyway. They're beautiful though: with tons of lace and pretty colours. Absolutely gorgeous. And I wanted to be absolutely gorgeous in them which is why I started packing in the extra hours in the gym at the beginning of this semester. Did I need to lose the extra pounds? Not really. I fill out my size 8s nicely. Whatever though. 
10. It doesn't change the fact that I did all of that because I wanted to be absolutely perfect for him. It was fun ya know? Wanting to be the vision of perfection and doting attentiveness for someone. Yet, does it really make sense I want to be all of that for someone who texted me he was going to cancel? In the time we've been apart I've only heard his voice once, briefly, for a couple seconds. I mean the lack of physical contact is one issue but the total lack of any type of connection is another entirely. I'm really understanding when it comes to issues like family and work but at some point the understanding becomes you just don't have the time. And I wish you would have told me that sooner. Ya know, before I bared myself, all of me, to you, foolishly. 
11. Complacency is the worst emotion I think anyone can feel. It's this feeling that didn't let me tell him to lose my number after cancelling on me a second time. It's the drug of the masses. I'm used to not really being with a man so this might bother me tremendously but I still am used to the feeling of being romantically independent.
12. What's more, I've always been the type to try things again even if I decided I didn't like it the first time just to be sure I really don't like it (Happened today with a chili hotdog. Still gross). I'm just waiting around to look at him and inspect this whole thing again just to make sure I'm not giving up anything I'll miss. I'm not angry. All I am currently is a lot annoyed and even more tired. 
13. I want to cover a man's face in kisses, or rest my head in his lap; feel a few swats on the butt, feel my heart pound as he grabs my hair and finally just sink into his grasp.
14. I want to be wanted. 
15. Which is why I have a date this weekend: A perfectly regular boy with whom I've never talked about chains and collars and "hard limits".
16. Will anything romantic come from this? Probably not; he's more effeminate than I prefer
17. Will we even remain good friends? That's up from grabs too. He's a little judgmental for my taste.
18. However, it feels really good to be with someone who has the time for you. 

• I gave blood for the first time in over year today. The whole time I was thinking "why do I do this to myself?" I don't like when they prick my finger to check my iron levels; I detest when she uses that straw to stab at my skin to try and make my vein visible; and I absolutely despise when that needle is stuck into me. I hate the pain and I hate the whole process. 
• But I do it because people out there need blood. I'm taking minor pains, major panic and minimal time out of my day to do something for someone. At least, that's what I tell myself when I'm laying there, disgusted by the feel of my blood, warm, in the tube flesh against my arm. 
• Unfortunately for me, I found out while I was there this meant that I couldn't exercise the rest of the day. This is annoying but not necessarily a deal breaker. I went for two hours at the gym yesterday totaling a little under 12 miles and over 1400 calories burned. I didn't intend to do it. I got caught up in a crime show and a Mentalist Marathon. This has also become a pain I bare with, if not somewhat enjoy. There are those moments when you're going really hard and you feel like your heart is about to pop out of your chest but you look at the time and just tell yourself 4 more minutes and you'll take a break. Somewhere in that time span, though, you hit this point where you tell yourself "I'm not even that tired. I could continue" and before you know it you've done 30 minutes nonstop. I've learned the trick is to not stop, ever. As soon as you take a break it's harder for you to get back into the swing of things. 
• As much as I might be sweaty at the end I can never get that burn the next day, so I figure I must be doing something wrong. I like waking up the next day and groaning as I get up and my body remembers what I did to it the day before. It makes me feel accomplished and ready to do it again. 
• There isn't really a BDSM inspired point to all of this. 
• Actually now that I think about it:
• I really wish physical sadists, the ones for serious pain and blood and humiliation, would stop contacting me thinking I'll change my mind on all of that. I don't want to explore any of that with you. I deal with pain, I bare it, to make someone or something better my body or lives for instance. I don't enjoy anything but a little soreness in the morning. Just talking is one thing, but remember I'm not into that. 
• (Excuse the bullets. The journal kept moving my paragraphs out of order.)

I hope I don't regret all this waiting. I mean, I know I'm young and have years to figure things like this out supposedly, but I've never been one to just sit around and wait for things to happen and I don't think I'll be making this a regular habit anytime soon. 

Waiting has got to be, and probably  is in fact, my least favourite activity. I don't wait in lines if I can help it: I'll skip meals if there are too many people in the cafeteria, I won't get to the DMV until near close if I can help it so most people have cleared the area. I'll even go without sleep just to be the first one somewhere to avoid those dreadful waits.

Unfortunately for me, I've been doing a lot of waiting lately. For my current Dom to have time for me really. He's busy, I understand that and don't fault him for it, but the waiting for him to have time for me is exhausting me. As much as I like him, sometimes I ponder if it wouldn't be better he just break things off so I can at least move on instead of being in this odd sort of limbo. I adore him, I really do, but two months with no physical contact and intermittent communication is driving me nuts. Absolutely nuts. 

"I just wanna be in your possession."

That's not a line from a sub blog I've been reading. Actually, it's a line from this mainstream R'nB song I thoroughly enjoy (until the featured artist decides he needs to say more than the chorus, but that's another story). I like the way that sounds and the idea of it. Not putting it into a BDSM context, the idea of being someone's is an attractive one. That's a normal thing; wanting someone to call you "mine" or say that's "my [insert preferred name/word here]" (came up in a Taylor Swift song). I guess the difference for me is do I want to be "his" or "His". Definitely not a slave (I don't want that kind of commitment) but to be a submissive and not just submissive is something I think I crave but I'm not sure. ively, it's hard to pinpoint what makes me want to be a submissive and what part just wants to be submissive to a strong man in a fairly normal relationship. Is my wanting to be made accountable for all my actions seriously the only difference? Seriously?

On the subject of music and relationships I like a lot of love songs and this could just be priming on the part of this website and my current stream of thoughts but I think I'd want to be enthralled in a man the way they describe in that old Destiny's Child song "Cater to you". A few quick snippets can be found at the bottom (formatting issues). I want someone who inspires that kind of devotion from me. However, I can't help but notice they weren't talking about being submissives but rather just submissive. (I would also like to point out my spell-checker does not recognize "submissive" as a noun and thus underlined in red the word submissives. It's interesting because it points out that it's not a recognized part of mainstream life.) However, this makes me think the difference between the two is minute. So what makes it all so taboo? I get it, it's a man's world and sometimes I have to throw a few elbows and step on a few toes if I want to get where I want, career wise. But does that mean, should that mean, I should be the same way in more intimate settings? I don't want to do that with someone I'm with. I want him to be the one doing that.

 "Don't know if I need to reassure you, my life would be purposeless without you"

 "You inspire me to be better; You challenge me for the better"

 "...whatever you desire, I'll aspire"

This is going to start out sounding frivolous but bear with me.

I bought my first dress (actually three dresses) March last year. It sounds ridiculous an 18 year old without a dress. I asked myself did I really need a dress when I was going through the checkout line. Did I? No. However I decided I was in love with the way they made me feel and how they made me look. I had been content for most of my teen life without one (aside from a few awkward parties where I was relegated to blouses and pants ). I've worn them all at least once each and adore the way I feel in all of them.

Sounds irrelevant I know. However that's what I think about this whole ordeal/relation/whatever-you-want-to-call-it I'm thinking over. I've been content my whole life not being in that kind of relationship. In fact, I've often been resentful of the positive light everyone saw me in and the high expectations they all had. So what in the world would posses me to think something like this would be something I want? Thinking about it ively I shouldn't be interested in this kind of thing. This has to be the result of all those years of expectations and resentment right? I'm damaged or something? Did I internalize those years of resentment to the point I now relish a relationship built upon things I resent? I'm not sure though I have a strong indication a therapist would offer to cure me of this through an indefinite number of $200/hour sessions. 

Either way, until I see that therapist I want to explore this side of me. I'm very practical and pride myself on knowing myself as ively as possible so I need to figure this out. Do I need this kind of relationship? Well, I didn't need those dresses but I can't ignore how great I feel slipping into the them. How feminine and strong and attractive they make me feel. Maybe this whole thing is the same way. Could I live very plainly? Probably. But why wouldn't I at least want to know what it feels like to feel better than that? Why wouldn't I want to feel feminine and beautiful and unstoppable? Even for only a little while.