I met this guy and I thought that maybe it was happening again. I was going to be able to share more with someone that just a good fuck. But it didn´t happen.
Why is it that for some people is so difficult to connect on a physical level and for others is on the emotional level?
I can´t help feeling sorry for myself sometimes. Here I´m, unable to have a “normal” relationship.
I have my own issues. I was molested when I was a child. I couldn´t even say what happened to me until my mid-twenties. I knew something was wrong, but I didn´t know what it was. I couldn´t find the words. Isn´t crazy how our mind can block memories out?
Until one day I remembered. Someone I trusted was touching me. I remembered the feeling of being uncomfortable. This person kept saying to me “tranquila”, but I was confused. I don´t know how many times it happened, but remembering one time was enough for me to understand that it was real.
I think about the younger me, how innocent I was. Who would I have become if I wouldn´t have had to deal with that? Would I be a different person now?
That experience defined me for so long that I considered myself broken. Would I be a happier person if I wouldn’t have felt like a victim for so many years?
The positive thing about aging and evolving is that I no longer feel defined by what happened to me.
When I was a teenager I was a rebel, with pearcings and red funky hair.
On my early twenties I was so depressed that I took my luggage and became a nomad for years. Living here and there, flipping from one language to the other one. It worked out for a long time.
On my thirties, my priorites started to change. I needed stability.
Mid- thirties I settled down and I asked myself:
Are you able to live a normal life?