She Feels My Pain: The Unglamorous Life of the Sex Blogger

I write about it all the time…how being a sex blogger can cramp your dating life, tarnish your reputation, dominate your conversations, and lead to a whole plethora of issues with self-esteem.

So I was relieved a few years ago when I found an excerpt from another sex blogger voicing similar thoughts, Charlotte.  She wrote The Life and Charlotte Times (unfortunately no longer active).

She wrote:

Yeah, I’m a sex blogger. I am indeed open. It’s all out there.  But I’m more than that. I’m a great date because I keep the conversation going. I’m fun. Attentive. I dress to the nines. I want a man to feel proud that I’m on his arm. I am also appropriate for each place we visit. I am a lady. I have class. Manners. Intelligence. The typical lady on the street, freak in the bed.

The problem is that I’m not such a lady online on this blog. Actually, I think I do a pretty good job making this a fairly above board sex blog. It’s not overly explicit. I hope I use some grace and class when describing the sexcapades.

Some might say look, you open your sex life to the world. What do you expect these guys will think about you being an easy lay? DUH!

To that I argue “I am a sex blogger, this is very true. BUT do not confuse the bits you read on the blog with the ENTIRE picture that is my life. Charlotte IS me, but it’s also a persona. It’s the larger than life side of me. If you want to know me, don’t read the blog. Don’t read my Twitter. Talk to me. Get to know me.  I DO NOT rush sex. I want a RELATIONSHIP that is based on more than JUST sex.

And yet, AND YET, still I get pushed. We finish dinner and he immediately asks me to go home with him. What for? You know what for…. wink wink.

How refreshing that someone else can articulate my challenges, my desires, my self-evaluation, and my relationship worthiness.

Contrary to popular belief, my life isn’t as exciting as I hear it is.  I always say I’m getting far more action through rumors than in real-time. My bed is rarely filled these days opting for quality and long-term relationship potential over quickies and one-night stands.

Contrary to popular belief, I’m kinda vanilla in my sexual preferences.  Sure I’ll give up anal once in a while.  I’ll wear costumes or dabble in light bondage and S&M.  I’m a total shoe whore, but that’s not really sexual for me.  It’s fashion.  I prefer to think I dip my toes in fetish, but haven’t really found one that quite fits.  I much prefer a massage or bubble bath to latex and ball gags.

It’s true that I talk about sex all the time.  It’s true that I think about sex all the time.  But for me, it’s not what you might think.  I’m into the psychology of it…the science of it…the philosophy of it.  I love to probe people (not literally, of course) to find out what hides behind their conservative exteriors.  I’m not running around bragging about my exploits.  In fact, I rarely talk about me…unless it’s something I read about somewhere.

Contrary to popular belief, I don’t fuck every guy that shows interest.  In fact, ashamedly, I’ll admit I put most of them through the ringer first.  I test them, tease them, and often draw it out to gauge their true interest.  There’s a danger of being a conquest and not a serious pursuit.

Yes, I’m far more abrasive in blog or Facebook status than real-life.  I’m actually sweet, faithful and try to be a dedicated, nurturing mother and partner.  But I do have that abrasive side.  I’m exercising it via blog rather than taking it out on the world around me.

Sex isn’t all I do.  You may be surprised to learn that I’m a trained ballroom dancer, can throw up drywall better than most men, have turned my hobby of shopping into a lucrative business venture, make a mean Chocolate No-Bake cookie, and can sing as well as play several instruments…outside of the penis.

I’m looking for a monogamous, lasting, healthy, passionate long-term relationship.  The loneliness is sometimes so impalpable that I cry myself to sleep envying all my married friends.  And despite how many times, how many places, how many ways I rephrase this to potential partners, Charlotte’s right.  They still assume that time with me will end with their cock in my vagina.

So what’s my option?  To hide my curiosity, bury my gift and try to feign normality? Doesn’t that then make me like all the other douche bag online profiles claiming to be something they are not?

How does one find love in a world consumed by sex?

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