I read an article this morning, I’ll link it below.
Maybe I was looking for validation that I’m not a bad person, that I’m not abnormal, that I’m not selfish (in the negative connotation of that word) and that I’m not shameful.
The Chef and I are over. He has been taking a break from us and doing some heavy thinking and I’ve been giving him his space. This morning we finally talked and he expressed that this arrangement wasn’t working for him anymore. We can still be friends but he doesn’t want to be in this casual Friend with Benefits situation any longer. He and I both found ourselves feeling more and more for each other but I’m not willing to end this Oat Sowing Season and frankly, I want to have my cake and to eat it too. He doesn’t feel he can be my cake anymore.
I get it. I was prepared for one of my friends to become dissatisfied with being one of many men in my life that I’m spending time with, but I didn’t want it to be him. It had to be this way though because as I eluded, I was feeling things for The Chef just like he was feeling things for me. We wouldn’t have been able to pull off a real monogamous relationship though. It would have been fun for a time but ultimately I would have become resentful of being called out of the field into a relationship I’m not ready for. I haven’t finished what I’m doing here yet.
I found myself so conflicted though. It’s hard to admit that I found myself feeling ashamed and regretful for a moment that my current life choices hurt someone else and caused them any level of heartache. I found myself feeling ashamed for wanting to date multiple men and not be exclusive with any of them. That is all coming from internal negative self talk that I’m not being a “good girl” and not fitting the mold society has set out for women. We aren’t supposed to want casual, non-monogamous flings with people we find attractive. Or at least that’s what the cranky, judgemental old lady in my conscience tried to tell me this morning until I shut her the hell down.
I quickly put myself in check and remembered I spent all of my 20’s and 30’s into my 40’s being good. This is my time to get this out of my system and live like I’ve never lived before.
I have to admit I’m still really sad about The Chef and what will never be. I’ll miss the Lodge and the escape his environment provided for my mind and body. He is a bit of an adventurer like I am and now I’ll have to hunt down new Adventure Partners. I think living this type of lifestyle, one has to be prepared for some doors to close, while new doors open.
All this Shameless Sex I’m having is not going to be my normal lifestyle choice forever. This is just for a season. I don’t know how long it will last, but I’m going to continue throwing myself into it until it either isn’t fun anymore or someone comes into my life that sweeps me so far off my feet I have no desire to seek fun elsewhere. Truth be told, I hope that doesn’t happen any time soon because this chapter is way too much freaking fun.
If you read the linked article above, the author makes a great point. Remember when Brittany Spears “dropped her basket” and shaved her head and took after a car window with the umbrella? Yeah, we all remember the year Brittany lost her shit. Well, she got divorced that year. Yeah. She did some crazy stuff. I’m having my Brittany year – albeit with much less crazy meltdowns. I promise not to destroy anyone elses property with my crazy. I’ll stick with just having lots and lots of safe sex with consenting, single adults.
I guess anyone who has a Brittany year can expect to have a few casualties along the way. I will never regret my time with The Chef, or any of the friends who have been part of this journey of shameless sex. He and I have had a lot of fun and some pretty great kisses. I’m glad The Chef and I can remain friends – he is very special to me. But damn, I’m going to miss those kisses.