Friends sex and relationships

I hate talking about sex with my friends. I’m a private person and I enjoy my privacy. I also believe in sex with relationships. I’ve had a few one night stands and I haven’t enjoyed them. I’d rather make love than get fucked.

My friends instead talk about men based on the size of their dicks rather than the size of their brain or heart. In the construction world I fight to be judged on the size of my brain rather than the size of my tits. Perhaps this is what they don’t understand.

This weekend my friend had to mention several times about the size of her husbands penis. In front of him, in a restaurant with another friend at the table. Then he asked me if I wanted to know more about it. This wasn’t part of the conversation or like they are swingers or a joke. It was, my husbands dick is huge. Everyone needs to know.


Then, while I’d appreciate a girls weekend, my friend took over my tinder to find me a man. Mind you I’m visiting 6 hours away from where I live.

She was upset I was honest and told him I was only in town for the weekend. She wanted us to hang out with him last night. Am I wrong for being mad? I wanted to see my friends, not go on a date with a dude. Especially not a group date of my friends with him. How awkward.

The one piece I realize I’ve been holding back from my friends. I’m terrified of being abused again. I’m terrified of dating. I’m slightly scared of sex. My ex hurt me mentally. He didn’t beat me or molest me but he made me feel dirty, wrong and bad about sex. He made me feel stupid and useless as a person. It’s taken me longer to admit that and you can’t quite solve a problem you don’t know existed. Harder to explain to your friends why you don’t want to date yet still feel lonely. Even more so you don’t care to talk about sex or enjoy it casually after all that.

I realized it this morning. While asleep on the couch. I realized why I’m obsessed with electron. He told me he thought I was smart and beautiful. Something I craved to hear from my ex but never got. I feel safe with him but only because he was able to crack my shell with the words I’ve longed for, for years. I don’t know him, he just got out of jail and rehab and yet he’s the person I’d hand my life to and ask him to save me, while I build a bunker between my friends who don’t seem to understand me anymore.

I think I may need to go back to a therapist. But at least I’m getting down to the root of the problem.


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