Whispersecret
Clandestine Sex-pressionist
- Joined
- Feb 17, 2000
- Posts
- 3,089
This is in response to Nicole’s “A Question????” Thread, where she asked "Who from this BB would you like to fuck?". Nicole, what motivated you to start another thread like that when you knew darn well that this area had already been covered?
It seems silly, I know, to get hurt over not being wanted by people I don't know. (And thank you, Roger and TurgidT, for wanting me. <big hugs> Now, I don't have to run for the suicide hotline number. (Just kidding. I’m not a suicidal person.)
I'm going to put my complete vulnerable self on the line here. I’ll warn you now; this is going to be one of those “too much information” situations. Feel free to move on to the other lighthearted threads.
Seriously, I DO think I have some sort of wish to punish myself. I knew the minute I read Nicole’s initial post what type of thread it was going to be, and I vowed not to come read it. I really didn't want to know if I didn’t end up on anyone’s list, knowing I'd likely get my feelings hurt. Ignorance is bliss, right?
I succeeded in staying away for quite a while, but morbid curiosity eventually drove me to check it twice. This situation reminds me a lot of being in school when they'd pick teams for sports. I never did try to play those games. As a kid I guess I had more sense than to purposely subject myself to possibilities for public humiliation. Anyone else identify with this?
However, right now I do feel a distinct need to review what I consider my strong points to balance out the blow to my self-esteem.
Here's my inner angel/devil dialogue:
"You would have been picked by more people if you'd flirted more. If you had focused your posts more on sexual innuendo, blatantly asked if there were volunteers for this or that sex act, etc. you would have been popular. This isn't high school, you know. No one can actually see you. You can portray yourself as some sexy siren and no one can look at you, shake their heads and scoff. Get out there, girl. You can write flirtatious posts as well as anyone."
"Don't listen to that. Don't you dare stoop to putting on some kind of fake identity just to make yourself feel better and get recognition from people you don't even really know. Take heart that there are some people here who respect your heartfelt, thoughtful opinions. Someone even called you classy once. Classy is better than sexy!"
"Bullshit. Classy is nice, but when you get right down to it, do you see the guys here listing names and saying it's because they're fucking classy? No way. Face it. You can count the number of guys who asked you out on one fucking hand. This is your chance to even things out.”
“Yeah, but when you’re sixty and no longer remotely sexy, you’ll still be classy and intelligent, and--if you beat your bulletin board addiction and get back to your writing--you’ll have been on the bestseller list many times over. Don’t beat yourself up. Back when you were dating, the guys were immature and more interested in looks than brains. You’re married now. Someone liked you enough to marry you!”
“That’s true…but does hubby ever tell you how pretty you look?”
“Don’t listen to that! Your kids do. Remember? ‘Mommy, you look really pretty.’ They’ve said that plenty of times when you got dressed up.”
“They’re KIDS. <snorts> Not the same thing at all.”
“This whole line of thought is completely ridiculous. You KNOW that you are a worthwhile person. You know that. This bulletin board is all about surface.”
“Yeah, but you put you inner self up here all the time. You know you do. And they still don’t want you...”
Yeah, well, there you go. It still hurts. Inside, way down deep where I try not to go too often. Maybe I’m the only pathetically insecure person out here. (I’m really not schizophrenic. I don’t have multiple personality disorder. The angel/devil thing just seemed to be the simplest way to get my thoughts down.)
Whisper's self-flagellation hour is over.
You may now go back to your regularly scheduled programming.
It seems silly, I know, to get hurt over not being wanted by people I don't know. (And thank you, Roger and TurgidT, for wanting me. <big hugs> Now, I don't have to run for the suicide hotline number. (Just kidding. I’m not a suicidal person.)
I'm going to put my complete vulnerable self on the line here. I’ll warn you now; this is going to be one of those “too much information” situations. Feel free to move on to the other lighthearted threads.
Seriously, I DO think I have some sort of wish to punish myself. I knew the minute I read Nicole’s initial post what type of thread it was going to be, and I vowed not to come read it. I really didn't want to know if I didn’t end up on anyone’s list, knowing I'd likely get my feelings hurt. Ignorance is bliss, right?
I succeeded in staying away for quite a while, but morbid curiosity eventually drove me to check it twice. This situation reminds me a lot of being in school when they'd pick teams for sports. I never did try to play those games. As a kid I guess I had more sense than to purposely subject myself to possibilities for public humiliation. Anyone else identify with this?
However, right now I do feel a distinct need to review what I consider my strong points to balance out the blow to my self-esteem.
Here's my inner angel/devil dialogue:
"You would have been picked by more people if you'd flirted more. If you had focused your posts more on sexual innuendo, blatantly asked if there were volunteers for this or that sex act, etc. you would have been popular. This isn't high school, you know. No one can actually see you. You can portray yourself as some sexy siren and no one can look at you, shake their heads and scoff. Get out there, girl. You can write flirtatious posts as well as anyone."
"Don't listen to that. Don't you dare stoop to putting on some kind of fake identity just to make yourself feel better and get recognition from people you don't even really know. Take heart that there are some people here who respect your heartfelt, thoughtful opinions. Someone even called you classy once. Classy is better than sexy!"
"Bullshit. Classy is nice, but when you get right down to it, do you see the guys here listing names and saying it's because they're fucking classy? No way. Face it. You can count the number of guys who asked you out on one fucking hand. This is your chance to even things out.”
“Yeah, but when you’re sixty and no longer remotely sexy, you’ll still be classy and intelligent, and--if you beat your bulletin board addiction and get back to your writing--you’ll have been on the bestseller list many times over. Don’t beat yourself up. Back when you were dating, the guys were immature and more interested in looks than brains. You’re married now. Someone liked you enough to marry you!”
“That’s true…but does hubby ever tell you how pretty you look?”
“Don’t listen to that! Your kids do. Remember? ‘Mommy, you look really pretty.’ They’ve said that plenty of times when you got dressed up.”
“They’re KIDS. <snorts> Not the same thing at all.”
“This whole line of thought is completely ridiculous. You KNOW that you are a worthwhile person. You know that. This bulletin board is all about surface.”
“Yeah, but you put you inner self up here all the time. You know you do. And they still don’t want you...”
Yeah, well, there you go. It still hurts. Inside, way down deep where I try not to go too often. Maybe I’m the only pathetically insecure person out here. (I’m really not schizophrenic. I don’t have multiple personality disorder. The angel/devil thing just seemed to be the simplest way to get my thoughts down.)
Whisper's self-flagellation hour is over.
You may now go back to your regularly scheduled programming.