sex

A long December

After Mr. Agency and I discussed what worked for both of us, I had thought that we had agreed to spend one night a week together. I didn’t realize until after we started tearing each other’s clothes off that one night a week didn’t involve him actually staying over my place.

Since we had started spending time together back in August, Mr. Agency had always come over my apartment late at night and slept over. That held true for a month before we had sex and during times when I was too sick from chemotherapy to have sex. At this point in our "relationship," I needed consistency from Mr. Agency, not further confusion.

Me: Umm…no. That doesn’t work for me.

Mr. Agency: I should’ve thought about this before, but I didn’t know how our conversation was going to go. If I had, I would’ve brought work to do.

Me: Well, you can go now to get your work. Or, you can leave early in the morning. But, if we’re having sex, you’re spending the night.

Mr. Agency [pausing]: Okay.

Me: If I’m only going to see you one night a week, you need to be sleeping over. I don't think I'm asking for a lot here. I’m understanding if you don’t get done with work until 2 or 3 in the morning, but you need to be understanding of my needs, too.

Mr. Agency: Okay. [He kisses me.] I’ll stay.

Me: Thank you. [Pause.] And this arrangement works for you then?

Mr. Agency: Yes.

We resumed our regular scheduled programming of great sex…and more great sex. We didn’t sleep more than four hours that night, and I was perfectly content with that. In the morning, he kissed me goodbye. We briefly talked about his schedule that week, and he mentioned that he should be able to come over one night the following week.

During the week, we texted regularly per usual. The following Sunday (one week from when I had seen him last), I texted him after we exchanged our usual pleasantries:

When will I get to see you next?

Mr. Agency: Hopefully I will get to see you soon. Hopefully at some point next week.

I was thoroughly confused, although not necessarily surprised.

Me: Umm…after our conversation last week, I had thought we had found a decent compromise. Guess I was wrong…

Mr. Agency: Well, I didn’t look at our conversation like we came up with a definitive solution. I looked at it as we were talking about the perspective each other is coming from.

Me: Not really sure what to say…especially via text. Know you have a lot on your plate so I guess I’ll ask you to call me when it’s convenient for you.

Mr. Agency: Okay. Sounds good.

In the midst of texting Mr. Agency, I texted one of our mutual friends. She was also not that surprised by my latest exchange with Mr. Agency, commenting that she thought that he wanted to be there more for me than he could.

Friend: Judge his actions, not his words.

Me: That’s what I’m finally doing. His words might indicate that he cares about me, but his actions show that he doesn’t care about anyone other than himself. That’s why I didn’t pick up the phone to call him. At a certain point, it’s not worth it.

Friend: But he’ll call you back soon, right?

Me: I’m betting I’ll hear from him in two to three days. Work always comes first with Mr. Agency. I just need to focus on feeling stronger and moving on from him.

In a three-week period, Mr. Agency reneged on our agreement, Philly Matt forgot that he had offered to come down to help me out with one of my rounds of chemotherapy, and Best Boy didn’t wish me a Merry Christmas. I was physically and emotionally exhausted from the roughest month for me health-wise, and the actions of these three men – or rather, their inactions – just added insult to injury.

To quote the Counting Crows, it was a long December.
 

How do you relay information on social networks?

On April 3, 2011, I spoke on a panel at the American University Social Learning Summit. The title of the panel was:

Where Do You Draw Your Line? Defining TMI on Social Networks.

My readers and friends know where I draw my line. I'm a sex blogger. There's very little about my dating life and relationship history that's off limits. I might use nicknames or change details that are irrelevant to the overall narrative, but for the purposes of my blog, including too much information is par for the course.

With that said, I still utilize a limited profile view for some friends on Facebook, and I blogged anonymously for two years to protect my legal career. I also continue to set boundaries as to how much personal information I share with others, depending on my goals and my audience.

I'm a big believer in listing the pros and cons of a situation, and I think that what information you put out on social networks warrants a list of its own. What are your goals for using Facebook, Twitter, a blog, LinkedIn or Foursquare? How much personal information do you share online, and who has access to it? Do your friends, family members, significant others, co-workers and clients share the same views as to what is TMI?

At the panel, I passed out a handout with these two slides on it:

How do you use social networks? What factors are important to you in deciding where to draw your line? What constitutes TMI to you?

Bah! Humbug!

As I began to wonder if Best Boy and I could be more than just good friends with benefits, I tried to gauge where he was coming from at this point in our relationship. On Thanksgiving, I sent him a text to say:

When I think of all the people I’m thankful for this year, you are high on that list. Thank you for making a very tough time so much easier on me. It means more to me than you know. xoxo

I started thinking about how frequently our relationship dynamic had changed since May. Best Boy and I were friends for a while, while I was spending time with his best friend, Mr. Exec. After my situation with Mr. Exec had ended, Best Boy and I became friends with benefits. When I started pursuing a relationship with Mr. Agency, I stopped sleeping with Best Boy. That lasted for seven weeks until it was clear that Mr. Agency wasn't able to handle anything serious or monogamous. So then, I started sleeping with Best Boy again. (Are you confused? It's my life, and I sure am!) 

Throughout much of my relationship with Best Boy, I was recouping from biopsies, surgery or chemotherapy. I needed all the help and companionship that I could get, and Best Boy was there for me — a lot. Was he just there for me because we were good friends? Or, was he there for me because he had feelings for me beyond friendship? I didn't know the answers to those questions.

Dating in a traditional sense was incredibly difficult during treatment since there were weeks on end in which I didn’t feel well for a single day. If there were good days, they often occurred right before I was due to receive more chemotherapy. I wondered if it might be nice to go out on a proper date with Best Boy. I was curious how our dynamic would be if we tried to interact more like a couple. Would the comfort and caring that he had shown me so often inside my house translate if we were out in public?

After we returned from Silver Diner to satisfy my craving for Caramel French toast, I kissed Best Boy goodbye and said:

I should be feeling better starting next week. It might be nice if we went out at night for a change. Maybe Ceiba or something?

Best Boy: Okay. [Pause.] It’ll have to be next weekend, though. I have a lot of work projects and meetings this week.

Me: That’s fine with me. I should be feeling even better by then. I love having you over, but I also love going out with you. It's been too long since we've done anything beyond a little brunch. [We kiss goodbye again.]

I walked into the house with a smile on my face. Best Boy and I texted throughout the week, but the following weekend came and went without any mention from him about going out to dinner.

A few days later, Best Boy texted me, asking how chemotherapy had gone and if he could come over. I wasn't feeling well so we just watched a game on television. Best Boy talked about how much he had going on at the office so I didn’t want to disregard that it was a stressful time of year for him. I also wasn't in the mood to bring up the fact that we hadn't gone out to dinner. We feel asleep and had sex in the morning before the worst of the side effects hit.

Over the weekend, Best Boy came over again. He helped me out when I was too sick to do much of anything. I was so grateful for his help, but a part of me wondered if I had missed my opportunity to date him. Did I wait too long to realize what a great guy he was?

I wasn’t sure if I would see Best Boy over the Christmas holiday. We were both staying local, but he had a lot of family obligations that weekend. I had hoped for at least a call or text from him on December 25th, but that day came and went without him contacting me.

I had dinner with friends the night after Christmas. One friend commented how she was rooting for Best Boy.

Me: I had finally decided that I was, too! But, it might be too tough for us to transition to anything more than friends with benefits. He didn’t even wish me a Merry Christmas!

While we were out, the notification of a Facebook email from Best Boy came in on my Blackberry. The message said:

Merry Christmas! Hope you enjoyed yours to the fullest!

An email? A day after Christmas? On Facebook? Was he kidding me? I turned to my friends and told them the latest.

Me: I think there should be a rule that if you’re fucking, you should at least have to call and wish her a Merry Christmas on the day of! [My friends laugh and nod their heads in agreement.]

When I got home from dinner, I found myself more irritated than sad. I just sent Best Boy back a text that said:

A FB email?!? Really? Hope you enjoyed your Christmas. xoxo

He wrote back that he had been having problems with his cell phone. (And, yes, his Android has given him problems since he first got it.) I rolled my eyes at the text.

I had chosen Mr. Exec and Mr. Agency over Best Boy in the past. And, now I wanted to see what would happen if I just focused on my relationship with Best Boy. Had I missed out on the chance to do that?

Getting it

My energy and strength finally started coming back toward the end of the third round of chemotherapy. My iron counts were up after five transfusions, and I was able to get out of the house for short intervals.

My first real outing came after Best Boy had spent the night. I awoke craving Caramel French toast from Silver Diner. (The diner ended up being my first outing four out of six rounds. There’s something about sweet, carbohydrate goodness that gets me every time.) Traveling to a place that wasn’t a doctor’s office felt wonderful, but it was especially nice because Best Boy and I hadn’t been out together in a while.

Our conversation turned to family and how we’ve dealt with our mothers’ deaths. As much as Best Boy and I had previously talked about deep subjects, I felt like we connected more over this meal than we had ever before. I remember heading home and thinking to myself:

What would have happened if I had gone out with Best Boy instead of Mr. Exec back in May?

I knew that everything had transpired as it was supposed to, but there was a part of me that couldn't help but wonder, “What if?” Best Boy is kind and caring, and he had been there for me through a lot of rough days.

On one particular evening, Best Boy came over to watch the late football game with me. I tried to keep my eyes open as I rested my head in his lap.

Best Boy: Did you go out today?

Me: Yes. Went to watch football over at one of my best friend’s places in NoVA. [Northern Virginia, for you non-locals.]

Best Boy: Did you drive yourself?

Me: Yes.

Best Boy: No wonder why you’re exhausted.

Best Boy understood me and how much treatment affected me. The simple act of driving myself to a friend's house 20 minutes away to sit on the couch and watch a football game and then driving 20 minutes home was exhausting! Best Boy took good care of me that night, bringing me water and walking my dog. He knew that if I was to have any ounce of energy under the sheets that I couldn’t exert myself any more than I already had. He just got it.

There are guys with whom I always try to look sexy and act my best, while with a few rare others, I can just be myself. Best Boy was around no matter my mood — which thanks to steroids and early menopause wasn’t always chipper, my health, my ability to have sex, and my appearance. (And, trust me when I say that sporting no makeup, a bald head and baggy sweats while sick wasn't a good look.) Best Boy got me, and I was so grateful for that.

I found myself questioning why I didn’t see him as more than a good friend with benefits. Why was I so late to realizing what everyone else already had about Best Boy?
 

What do you need, honey?

Let’s tackle a reader’s question from Formspring:

So, my partner says she does find me “attractive,” but doesn’t ever really get into the mood. I’m not abnormally hasty or anything. She just says that she doesn’t feel it often, although she’s felt it in the past. I feel…bad about myself. What am I to do?

Answer: It's perfectly understandable that you feel confused and slighted. Have there been any changes in her life or her routine that could have precipitated a decrease in her sex drive? Has she switched jobs? Has she been having any health problems? Is there added stress from family obligations, financial issues or a pending move?

I recommend having a heart-to-heart with her about what she needs from you at this time in her life. Some of those needs may be emotional, while others may be functional or sexual. She may be going through something right now that she hasn't felt comfortable sharing with anyone, including you. Or, it could be that she feels like she's at the end of her rope as she juggles life, work and family.

Try not to broach the matter when you’re rushed or expecting to have sex. After you listen to her needs, ask how you can help her. Listen and then, if it seems appropriate, tell her what your needs are in this relationship. How can you both prioritize the other person more? How can you compromise to both feel satisfied emotionally and sexually? Have you been together long enough that it’s time to try to spice up your relationship? (Spicing your relationship up might involve more romance than sex.)

If you can, don't internalize her problems, although that’s easier said than done when you are in a relationship. I hope that if you’re together, you both find the other person attractive and that your connection is stronger than a change in your routine or the other’s appearance.

No one, especially a partner, should do or say anything to make you feel less attractive. Your partner should try to build you up, not the other way around. Hopefully, you will be able to resolve the situation and feel better about yourself. If that's not the case, though, what can you do on your own to better yourself? That might involve going for a promotion at work, joining a gym, taking a class, meditating, or playing a sport. Think of what would make you happy and give that a try.

Please let me know how the conversation goes. And, readers, what advice do you have for this person?
 

Doctor, Doctor, give me the news!

A family friend recently had knee surgery. The procedure went well, and prior to leaving the hospital, the nurse gave him discharge instructions. He can walk, but he can't drive. He can return to work and resume certain upper body exercises next week, but can only perform lower-body exercises once he starts physical therapy in three weeks.

The detailed discharge instructions that he received made me think about a friend's comment to “Exit Only.” In that post, I answered a reader's question about how to broach the fact that her medical issues impede her from having anal sex with her boyfriend. In the comments section, a friend indicated that she wouldn't feel comfortable talking to her doctor about sex. I don’t think she’s alone in that sentiment.

In a recent study of female cancer patients conducted by the University of Chicago Medical Center, 42% wanted to talk to their doctors about sexual health issues. Only 7% of these women — who ranged in age from 21 to 88 with an average age of 55 — had done so.These patients didn't just want to talk about sex with their doctors. They needed to talk about sex with their doctors.

In thinking of those statistics, I believe that both the doctors and the patients are to blame. As adults, we all need to learn how to advocate for ourselves and our loved ones in a medical setting. (Illness is an unfortunate, but inevitable part of life.) And, health care professionals working outside of pediatrics should operate under the assumption that all of their patients are having sex and advise them accordingly.

“Anything that affects the female sexual organs will have repercussions on body image and on a woman's sex life," said Emily Hill, MD, a fourth year resident in obstetrics and gynecology at the University of Chicago Medical Center, and lead author of the study.

Peggy Brick, a renowned sex educator in her 80s, opens her speaking engagements with one question:

Why do we stop learning about sex around the time we start having it?

She explores how each age and stage bring with it different changes to our lives. Peggy then asks us to think about how we can address the physical and emotional ramifications of these changes in a way that continues to prioritize our need for intimacy.

I maintain that talking about these life changes and their impact on our sexual health is important. In some instances, that will mean having a conversation with your partner, a friend, a therapist or a clergyman. In others, that will mean having a frank discussion with your doctor.

Assuming that you have health insurance and have some choice about which doctor you see, select a physician with whom you feel comfortable. Evaluate the doctor's bedside manner along with his or her education, experience and location. If you can't imagine talking to your doctor about any medical issues that you have or potentially could have (including, but not limited to, urination, constipation, diarrhea, your period, changes in your testicles, a lump in your breast, your sex drive, and depression), then find another doctor!

If you are recovering from surgery or have an injury or health condition, the only way to find out what you are or are not allowed to do is to ask your doctor. And, when you ask, be specific. It's not always enough to inquire as to whether or not you can have sex since you can achieve orgasm by more than one means. For those of you who have sex toys or engage in anal sex, don't assume that a temporary ban on sex does or doesn't allow you to partake in those activities. Ask.

If you don't feel comfortable talking about medical issues directly with your doctor, you can:

1. Write your questions down on a piece of paper and present the paper to your doctor;
2. Ask your doctor for his or her email for follow-up questions; or
3. Broach the topic with a nurse, physician's assistant, technician or receptionist with whom you have a good rapport. That person will either forward your questions to the doctor or answer you himself or herself.

For those of you in the medical profession, it's worth inquiring about your practice’s policies regarding sexual health issues. If the practice appreciates the need for these conversations to happen, how can you respectfully convey that information to patients? (A brief comment during a consultation, a card or pamphlet in the waiting room, or a sentence on a patient form should do the trick.) When it comes to post-surgical or post-treatment discharge instructions, include helpful guidelines regarding sex. A one-line instruction now could save a patient from complications later.

Medical problems arise. Sex is a healthy and natural part of life. Isn't it time for us all to recognize how one impacts the other?

Have you talked to your doctor about a sexual health or sensitive medical issue? I'd love to hear from those who have, as well as those who haven't felt comfortable enough to do so.

Exit Only

Time to tackle a reader’s question from Formspring:

Question: My boyfriend is into anal, but it is not my preference due to some medical issues I had (down there). Even though I don’t mind trying new things, how do I relate this to him so he understands? Is there anything extra I can do to please him?

Answer: I’m sorry to hear that you’ve had to deal with health problems. I have several friends with debilitating stomach and intestinal problems so I appreciate what you're going through.

Since you’re serious enough with this guy to refer to him as your “boyfriend,” I hope that you feel comfortable enough to have an honest conversation with him.

In your own words, I recommend saying something like:

I know that you’ve mentioned that you enjoy anal. But, I think you know that I’ve had some tummy issues. I don’t want to risk having any additional health problems by trying to have anal sex. Can you appreciate that? [Pause and wait for an answer. There might be further discussion about your medical issues and how they impact your life. If he truly cares about you, he won't want to do anything that could hurt you.]

I do like to try new things, though, and I definitely want to make you happy. Is there something other than anal that we could try that you would like? [See what ideas he suggests. Talk about your interests and your fantasies and figure out what works for both of you. Since he’s a guy, I would figure out in advance how you would respond to him if he asks about having a threesome.]

Try to broach the matter at a time when you won't be rushed and you’re not getting ready to have sex. There’s no need to add stress or pressure to the situation.

I would also consider bringing a few ideas to the table that could hopefully please both of you. What if you had an anal scene from a porno film playing in the background while you had sex? Could you read a book or watch a DVD about Tantric Sex together and try some of the moves out? What if you brought toys or some light fetish gear (nipple clamps) into the bedroom? Would either of you consider rimming? Do you normally use lubricant while you’re having sex? (If so, try not using it as much. If not, try using some. Varying the level of wetness and tightness can provide different sexual experiences.)

Also, have you spoken to your gastroenterologist or primary care physician about whether you’re allowed to attempt anal? If you are medically prohibited from engaging in any anal play, that’s definitely worth mentioning when you talk to your boyfriend. Would you be willing to give it a try if you're medically cleared to do so?  (I’m not looking to have you try things outside of your comfort zone, but when it comes to the intersection of sexual health and a medical condition, it’s always worth talking with your doctor.)

Keep in mind that there's no right or wrong here. Your sexual comfort level is for you alone to decide, and you should never feel like you need to try something because other people are or want you to do so. In addition, there are many women without health issues who don't care to have anal sex. Recent statistics indicate that only 1/3 of heterosexual males and females are having anal sex.

Please let me know how it goes. Readers, do you have any thoughts to share?

Many emotions

I tried to contain my shock, as Mr. Agency walked toward me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. (For all intents and purposes, he had made the most minimal of effort to be there for me over the past four weeks. So, I was totally caught off guard when he showed up to my fundraising party.)

Me [after a long pause]: I’m surprised that you came.

Mr. Agency: I told you that I would be here to support you.

Me: Yeah you said that you would try to make it. I just figured that you’d be too busy with your event. [Long pause.] But, I’m glad you’re here.

I kissed him on the cheek again, and we sat down with T, Autumn and a few other friends to have dinner. The awkwardness between us was palpable. I had almost written Mr. Agency off entirely, but then he showed up at the party and Best Boy didn’t. I was thoroughly confused and not sure what to make of it.

As we ate our meals and talked about football, I began to relax more. I cared about him and was genuinely happy that he came to support me.

Me: I hope that things go well tonight [at the event].

Mr. Agency: Thanks! I’ll come by afterward.

Me [with a surprised tone in my voice]: You will?

Mr. Agency: Yes. It’s your night!

Me: Really?

Mr. Agency: Yes, baby, it's all about you!  [We laugh.]

Me: Cool. I'd like that.

I walked to Foggy Bottom with two friends who were bemoaning the lack of dating options in their lives. I laughed and said, half-jokingly:

I’m bald, and I have more men than I know what to do with! Whoever says that cancer kills your sex life needs to come talk to me!

When I arrived home, I went online to see if there was any news about Rod, my friend with stage four colon cancer. I had received two more emails from mutual friends waiting for news and processing their own grief. I got into bed to try to get some rest.

Two hours later, Mr. Agency came over to my place. I poured him a drink, and we went into the bedroom. For all the confusion in our relationship, I never had to worry about whether or not the sex was going to be great. It always was.

I had told Mr. Agency about Rod when we were at Hudson. While we were talking in bed, Mr. Agency asked me how I was doing.

Me: It doesn’t seem fair. We both were supposed to beat this together. We were supposed to celebrate being done with treatment together. He’s such a wonderful guy, and it’s not right that he’s dying so young. His poor family and friends.

Mr. Agency held me close, as I buried my head in his chest and sobbed. I cried so hard that my body shook, and I could barely catch my breath.

There was a lot for Mr. Agency and I to discuss, but for now, I was thankful that he was there and that he showed me that he cared.

We could talk about “us” tomorrow, right?

What a girl wants

I accepted the fact that Mr. Agency wasn't interested in being in a committed relationship with me and focused on what would make me happy.  I sent Best Boy the following text:

What are your plans tonight? I’d love to see you…and not just for snuggling ;).

Best Boy responded in less than a minute:

Really??

Me: Yes. I thought about it and realized that I want you.

Best Boy: 🙂

I didn’t expand or define what “wanting” him meant, though. In the midst of treatment, all I knew was that I wanted to be with a guy who cared about me and cared for me. Best Boy had proven that he was there for me time and time again, but I hadn’t given any thought about whether or not we should be exclusive. That just wasn't a priority for me right now.

Best Boy came over that evening and again over the weekend. I was still hemorrhaging a bit and very weak. Not surprisingly, he was incredibly sensitive to my needs. (I would later learn that my iron and red blood counts were low and that I needed five days of iron IVs.)

Without me having to explain everything, Best Boy just understood and knew what to do. I had a limited amount of energy to exert, and I wanted to exert that energy with him in bed. He would walk my dog or help me get things around the house so I wouldn’t push it more than I should. He made me feel safe and special, letting me nap with my head in his lap as he softly rubbed my head with his hand.

In bed, he was gentle and loving. We spent a lot of time having sex on our sides – in the spoon position. In the midst of all the changes that I was experiencing, my physical connection with Best Boy remained a constant.

We didn’t talk extensively about our relationship, but I did tell him that I hadn’t yet spoken to Mr. Agency.

Me: I thought about it, and it doesn’t seem necessary right now. Whatever his take on our relationship is, it doesn't change the fact that I want to be with you.

Later that night as we watched television and talked about sports, Best Boy turned the conversation toward his relationship with Melanie*. Apparently, he told Melanie that they should just be friends and colleagues, and no longer sleep together. I hadn’t asked him to do that, but I must admit that the news made me smile.  I replied with a simple:

Oh.  That's good to know.

Mr. Agency continued to text me on a daily basis, and I sent casual responses in return. I tried to seem blasé, as though it didn’t matter if and when I saw him again. But, in my heart, I felt differently. I hadn’t loved Mr. Agency, but I definitely cared about him. And, I didn't know if reconnecting with Best Boy and seeing Mr. Agency on occasion were mutually exclusive.

As my website redesign and blog fundraiser neared, I wasn’t sure if any of the men in my life would be attending. Philly Matt and I had talked about him coming down to help me out during an upcoming chemotherapy week, but he had asked about the party in our last conversation. Best Boy had told Autumn that he might be able to attend. And, when I first posted about the event on Facebook, Mr. Agency commented that he would try to be there.

When it comes to Facebook party invitations, I realize that a reply of “maybe” typically translates into a “no.” I also recognized that Philly Matt lived out of town and Best Boy and Mr. Agency had hectic work schedules. I thus assumed that none of the three guys would end up making it to the lounge in late October.

As luck would have it, though, one guy did attend. And, it was the guy who I least expected to see.

To be continued…

* I gave Best Boy's girl the nickname of "Melanie." In retrospect, that might have been confusing since my web designer's real name is Melanie. They are not one in the same.
 

Owning It

In a recent conversation with my father, I told him that I write about “my relationships and sex and stuff” without providing him a link or using the word, “blog.”  I then explained my business plan and my advocacy goals for the next two years.  I could tell from his pauses and tone that he was thoroughly confused.  (Who wouldn’t be?  I think most people are confused at first when they hear me talk about advocating for breast cancer awareness and body-friendly sex toys in the same sentence.)

City Dad: So…are you telling me this because you don’t want me to be embarrassed?

Me [pausing]: I guess so.

City Dad: Is there anything you think would embarrass me?

Me [pausing]: I hope not.

City Dad: Is there anything that embarrasses you?

Me [without hesitating]: No.

City Dad: Well, I’m glad that you told me so I didn’t find out another way.  And, it’s not like I thought you were a saint!  [We laugh.]

After hanging up the telephone, I thought about what I had said.  Nothing in here embarrasses me.  Nothing.  This blog details my life and my choices.  I’ve made some good decisions (often professionally) and some bad decisions (often with respect to my relationships with men).  But, I don’t regret any of the experiences I’ve had.  They’ve made me who I am today, and I love the person that I’ve become.  If I was embarrassed about anything in here, I’d be embarrassed about who I am.  That’s not me.

One of my dear friends is a life coach, and she always reminds me of how much I “own it.”  I smile when she uses that expression because I do own my life and my choices.

When people write rude comments on my blog, I laugh and take their words with a grain of salt.  (And, I don’t like salt.)  How can I let the thoughts of someone that I don’t call a friend affect me?  By having a blog and putting my life out there, I invite comments and criticism.  There are many readers who I don’t know in real life that manage to respectfully disagree with my choices and actions.  If someone comments in a way that’s disrespectful, I let it roll off of me.  I own it.

I was the girl with the long, beautiful red hair, and now I’m bald.  I miss my hair, but I know that I’m just where I’m meant to be in life right now.  Wearing a wig doesn’t change the fact that I’m in treatment for cancer and doesn’t make me feel comfortable.  It’s not authentic to my experience.  I’ve done photo shoots and interviews bald.  I walk around town bald.  I host events bald.  I’ve flirted shamelessly and had amazing sex bald.  I own it.

I’m a liberal and a Christian.  I used to practice law, but now I’m a blogger and advocate.  I’m a woman, and I think about sex more than the average teenage boy.  From my perspective, none of these things are mutually exclusive.   Labels and identifiers are just words.  I may be a writer, but I let my actions speak for themselves.  As an attorney, I ruffled a few feathers by addressing issues that made partners and nonprofit directors uncomfortable.  I do much of the same with my blog.  I’ve made mistakes, and I’ve accomplished things of which I’m proud.  But, through it all, I own it.

How do you own it, or how do you want to own it?