Those of you who follow this blog semi-regularly have realised that I have become single in the past six months.
Of course, single is not the thing that defines me.
Par for the course of this is Dating. Thankfully, I have not been without dates / nice dinners or beverages with straight (ideally) unattached (hopefully) men.
I am now starting to understand Sex and the City in a new light, as it was intended to be understood. Sounds cliched, but it is a jungle out there.
Wolves in sheeps clothing (scary). Sheep in sheeps clothing (boring).
There seem to be no rules. What actually constitutes being in a relationship is unclear. Having “seen” a person for a while does not make them your partner. Sex is just that.
It is exhilarating and frightening. It is scary. The scariest bit is in your on head. It can really diminish your self worth, if you let it. If, for instance, the whole tone of your day is dictated by whether the guy or whatever calls you back.
It is dynamic and forever changing. You can be on a high one moment and on a low the next, feel yourself diminishing in comparison to the other.
The only constant is me. I decide whether I diminish or not. I would rather not.
And my lady friends. And bitchy gay friends.
Those need to be the first priority. When I start worrying about what that person is thinking about me, I have to bring it all back to these things. Rein it in. Stop worrying about whether they like me, and focussing on what I like doing.
Because things are fickle, can be lost, can be taken away. I need to focus on the constants, the things that can’t be taken away, that I will always have if I want them. My things. My tribe.