I Used to Think…

I’ve really got a lot going for me… compared to the other women with profiles on collarme. I’m really attractive… compared to the other women posting for casual sex on craigslist. Whether it was true or not, I’m not sure. I do know that on the fetish sites and casual sex sites, I got a lot of attention and dated a lot of “quality” (by superficial standards) men. I was involved with doctors, lawyers, high-powered executives, professionals in the entertainment industry, and men that were way better-looking than me. When I would post profiles on “vanilla” sites or sites that didn’t have a fetish focus, I got much less attention. The same went for meeting men in the real world; without the help of an internet profile.

I wonder what it will be like dating again, as an average looking (or maybe even below-average looking, depending on who is doing the looking) woman, when I only have my own (not so impressive) merits to stand on? Just the fact that I am contemplating this question tells me that I am no where near ready to start dating again.


After I wrote the paragraphs above, I went to a meeting and the speaker talked about his identity. It was a compelling and powerful share. He talked about how hard it was for him to discover his own identity apart from his addictions and the labels that he and society has put on himself. It made me think about what I had just written and about how I look at myself and other people. When I strip away everything I labeled myself with in the past, who am I if I’m not a submissive, a kinkster, a slut, a good girl? I’m a sex and love addict, I’m a woman, I’m a writer, I’m my profession. But who am I, really? If I strip away the addictions, the obsessions, the past mistakes, the tragic childhood, my career, my looks; what’s left? Who is Imperfect at the core?

My first year in college, I lived in the dorms. The first night when everyone moved in, we had a floor meeting. We did this icebreaker exercise where you have to introduce yourself by sharing one thing about yourself that people couldn’t tell by looking at you. I hate shit like this. My mind was blank. All I could think to say was, “I’m Imperfect, and I have a boyfriend.” LAME! How was it that I couldn’t think of one fucking thing to share about myself other than “I have a boyfriend?” I had no way of identifying myself in the past without the guy I was with, the guy I wanted to be with, or my sexual proclivities.

For the speaker at my meeting today, he realized that the only way he could honestly identify himself was with his higher power. At his core, he is a child of God. I know I’m a child of God too, and that we all are. But my spiritual practice isn’t there, yet. Knowing it and feeling it are two different things. The spiritual aspect of this twelve-step program is something I’ve struggled with. I believe in God, but I’ve never quite truly felt connected to God. Right now, in my recovery, I think this is where my focus needs to be.