Sexual shame: You're Not the Only One

Not just the costume, you know, but the whole… *vibe* I do with the other grad students, the whole predatory intellectual dominatrix thing where I make them do extra research for me and they, like,… …

I dunno if this is even a real problem but I drew something the other day, just a quick sketch, and it made me feel like I was going to hell, you know? …

And everyone was, like, sharing these — stories, about like, their past flings and awkward dates and whatever, and I just sat there, laughing along, trying to seem engaged, but inside I was just…… …

Heavy equipment, moving earth, building stuff. …

Does everyone feel this disconnect, or is it just me, the ghost at the feast, pretending to belong? …

I was at this dinner party last night, right? …

then you wake up and it's like 7am, sun's barely up, and you're just on your knees in your dorm praying to god not to like, smite you on the spot. …

The internal monologue is just a dumpster fire, constantly scanning for a way to pivot, a way to contribute something that isn't a bald-faced lie or a glaring omission. …

Like, past my prime, put out to pasture, and yet here I am, practically vibrating with… with *desire*. …

saying stuff like *achcha* and *sharam karo* and you know the drill. …

I’m thirty years old I sell books for a living (well technically I’m a librarian but it’s the same thing right? …

And me, I’m over forty, built like a brick shithouse but inside, somethin’s… rusting. …

Like, we’re all just out here faking it ‘til we make it, pretending we're these fully functional, always-on machines, when really, half the time we’re a walking panic attack waiting to happen. …

The silence here, it’s deafening. …

You know that feeling when you're supposed to be in charge, like, IN CHARGE, every single day, every day, at work, at home, and then you just... …

My parents are coming tomorrow and I’m 30, a *librarian* for god’s sake, and I’m still doing this charade? …

I just keep replaying last night, waking up at 6:17 AM in that dorm room after… that… and the way he looked at me before I bounced, heading straight to my own place for the rosary, just staring at… …

it's become this intricate ritual of concealment. …

You ever just… sit there, at a dinner party, like tonight, laughing along while everyone swaps stories about exes and hookups and all the *spicy* stuff – and you just nod and smile and make vaguely… …

Not here in Harmony Creek. …