Queer girl jkt — Hot Girls Go To Therapy
I knew something is not right with me when the invitation of a *girls-only* BDSM party involving Domme Mistresses in leather does not appeal as much as it used to.
And after a while, I realize that maybe, my heart needs to be filled with something more than the “queeen slayy” responses to my selfie pictures.
so, I begrudgingly went to a therapist.
Speaking to her, I shared how I lost all desire to do things I used to enjoy, like endlessly swiping to find My Next Dream Girl (plus points if she has sleeve tattoo).
The therapist just told me that she’s tired of my shit & I need to work on my coping mechanism. To work on myself first.
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Per my shrink’s (and tarot reader’s) advice, I stopped opening dating apps — aside from the gems and genuinely awesome people, 75% accounts I found there are either horny, deranged, and/or still too fucked from their recent breakups anyway,
until one night, this drunk girl texted me to come over.
See, by this point, I am a new, empowered woman filled with #selflove, so I don’t do booty calls but I’m willing to treat us to a glass of wine at an overpriced SCBD bar..
and that spiraled to shots after shots and being cheered by the entire bartenders on duty & I ended up waking up sick and not knowing where I am in the morning.
Now, I’m not going to puke on a stranger’s bathroom, so after trying to unlock her door for 5 minutes, I ran to the Gocar as quick as I could.
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On the way home, under the glow of 5 AM sun, something shifted in me.
I blamed myself for heartbreaks of my past, but I’ve done everything, and all I can ever be is 50% of the relationship.
I reminisced the time when my first girl passed away years ago when I was abroad. It was a relationship of stunted affection, of memes and “i wish i could get high with you” as forms of caring,
yet it made me pack my life to a backpack , and take a coast to coast walk with no aim. When I reached the farthest beach, I looked back & see my footprint on sand erased by the water. Just like that, I accepted everything, and took a flight home. I sat alone & bought a beer for two at Paulaner. My love can continue despite not being together anymore.
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I know now that what I need is to be by myself & finally let myself mourn and process — preferably sitting on top a surf board by the sea.
I let my heart stop for a moment to think that maybe, I will never find My Next Dream Girl.
And I could breathe again when I realized, I will still be okay.
I passed a street billboard vandalized with a “life is beautiful :)” graffiti, and had the biggest hangover smile on my face.
