I stopped taking my shirt off
How to stay sexy without the effort.
As much as I like to bother with presentation, I welcome a healthy dose of ‘whatever’ as well.
This is my tee shirt; I am keeping it on. As we do on our date night, the playlist is on, and lighting low – though in a Brooklyn open loft design apartment, one only has so much leverage in atmosphere making. I am totally cool with keeping my top on.
A window, or skylight, if you will, to intimate recreations of me.
Main characters:
A forty-plus person (again, me) with a fifty-plus partner.
Time:
Present day. A Sunday evening at (approximately) 8 PM.
Conditions:
Any Season.
Factors:
Wine, weed, and pervasive adult fatigue.
Five cats.
One dog.
A chronic illness.
Genital injury.
Impatience.
Stress.
A text coming in.
Someone’s back hurts.
Did you check the litter box?
When are the groceries being delivered?
Oh, can you change over the laundry?
Fuck, I’ll call my Mom tomorrow.
When did you last take Benedict out? Does he need to go?
I’m hungry.
Given all the hurdles above, and the ones to come, I am really looking forward to this. I need this. We put tonight on the calendar for God’s sake. And here we are – the once in the week we make a point, because recreating in the din of the days that run rouge, rolling together like a sentence as run on as this – and I am so proud of us.
Really, I am. His eyes, pulled away from the screen of his phone, yet whispering at their edges that they ache to see what electronic occurrence are afoot in his absences, take my heart as they did in less dense, mature, and responsible times. In that heart, I know he, too, is here and present. Given all the things, we are doing this in this weird thing we signed up for, that is great, and mutually thankful.
OK, so we get out all the things: the tools, the towels, and toys. Pillow in the proper places, away from those less optimal, and so we go!
FYI – I am keeping my shirt on. In all this - the romancing, the laughter, the efforts and negotiations, ecstasy, discomfort, and frustrations - one I am so over making, and surprised I ever thought I should, is showing my tits. Sure, I take requests, yet here in the comfort of my home and arms of my partner, I wouldn't dare bother with such silly garnish. Silly for me at least, as well...I get really cold, my boobs are not an erotic area code, my hubby is less “upstairs” focused than some, so we roll with my reservation.
Would it be hotter (in impact vs temperature) if I was buff? Would the image of birthday-suited me line up better in what I fantasize as my sensual identity? Yes, on both counts. My falling behind my own standard was less a decision as it is an occurrence. It happened. I stopped taking off my shirt, it rolled as such, complaints never came, and I experienced weirdness and wonder and changed nothing. Result?
Today (or some another Sunday) will be happy and covered and safe. Smiling from experience and achievement as we, husband and I, have again eked out a bit of us in all the ‘it” that creeps and climbs in to distract us from what is intimate as well as (sometimes) quite awesome.
Leaving the boudoir, sadly, is there something to take away to more dressed scenarios? Answer … guess…YES.
Standards are what I am thinking. What are those by the way? Can you tell me? Are they rules? (NO!) are they mandates? (Ha, laugh my ass off!) Set in stone? (Give me a break!)
Standards are ceilings and chains that keep us trapped and short. Externally introduced and (at times) internally encouraged. Both by our own psyches and too by the insinuations of others. Birthed from fear, these chinks in our internal armor break and bow under pressure.
What I am thinking about as an example is in job applications and resumes. How to do the “right” cover letter or CV. Whether one will be filtered away by the bot that reads keywords and whatnot. The hoop that convention has applicants jumping through with NO ONE really getting hired and certainly not satisfied.
You have to do that, sure. The portal bot filtering thing. But not in totality. Apply that way as necessary, but in tandem look at your list – not on fucking LinkedIn – but to your contacts. Do you already have with you those who will aid you in getting directly to the ears of those in the hiring vein? What is needed is culling those contacts (hit me up to talk more on that!) but, too, a good deal of embracing. Hugging and holding close that what has and does make you feel squirrely and arbitrary is true and very just.
If you are deep in the promenade of the application square dance feeling square-pegged and left footed, don’t ignore that! Know that your comfort level and intuitive approach is as trusted and valid as anything else. All it needs is a bit of courage and, as I ALWAYS say, curiosity.
Back to date night for some homespun humor and insight:
Just do what you want and respond when questioned – I prefer a direct email as the uploading system does not allow for a candidate to properly express themselves. Should I need to apply that way, I shall nonetheless send a more nuanced note here, as understanding each other as experienced professionals is mandatory for a convivial working arrangement.
State the truth – My attributes are best expressed in (fill-in-the-blank) manner.
Ask – Can I get an introduction to…?
Give credence – Many persons prefer and succeed better in circumstances in which …
On date night I am, when asked of when another approach to what nudity may or may not occur, acting on my instincts. What if I do feel bare is a thing I want to play with? It could be, right? I am as changeable as any fickle human out there. Why not?
I kick responses from the annals of my guts -what is earnestly on my mind and in the deep negotiations of my comfort and discomfortable spaces. As hard as they are to say in my head, doing my damndest to trust that when I speak them, ease rushes in once the levy of confidence breaks.
Ask if others are hearing me and at peace? Able to make the way with me? Allow for the “me” in the “it” of the evening?
Share rational history in what I know about myself and similar couplings. Normalize both my own, our, and the communal knowledge, not as a prescription, yet as a touch point.
At the laptop or upon the mattress, know individually in action is the most integral aspect. Are you better in a shirt? Without? Atop? Behind? Know so, communicate, continue as such.
What? Is your way rejected? Oh no, that is not YOUR rejection is an opportunity to acclimate or shut down! Both brave and wise. What is integral however is the CHOICE between. You can bend and bow but (DAMNIT!) do so not under duress. Practice flexibility from a place of equally empathy and interest.
Like, oh you wanna see these headlights? Well, what might that be like? We will see won’t we?
