Helpful Sabotage: Fixing at Least One of My Problems

Usually when I think about all the times I’ve sabotaged myself, well, they aren’t really happy memories. I’ve brought myself down too often to be happy about that kind of behavior. But maybe I’m turning a corner…

Yes, I used my usual self sabotage problem to combat another problem: being pursued by younger men. I opened up my mouth with them and let myself go. No, not all of it was conscious. Some just started to happen. I could see it, but I didn’t know exactly what I was doing. Until now.

Last night was a monthly get together of artistic types for an open mic night. Fun stuff, and I’ve been reading aloud from one of my stories. My head’s tripped out because at these monthly meetings I had 3 young men (minimum of 25 years younger than me, so I can call them ALL young men) flirting with me. Yeah, I know: if you asked them they may deny it or say they were joking. Or drunk. Yeah, right. Anyway, it was turning my head around. In a nice way, mind you – I enjoy feeling sexy and attractive: who doesn’t? But it was also more pressure than I wanted to deal with right now. So I let my mouth do what I was afraid of doing – I pushed them all away.

One guy failed to even show up last night, despite telling me 5 days ago he would. One guy spent the night telling me about this drop dead attractive 20 something year old inside. One guy spent the night talking to a lot of other people. So I’m essentially free and off the hook! I can barely believe I did something that worked in my FAVOR this time.

I did it with my humor, which is probably the kindest way both for me and for all the guys involved. I know a lot of my humor is self depreciating; still, it’s truly funny and raises a laugh in me and others. Despite all my jokes to all these men, it was one word that stopped them up (and BTW, this makes me laugh all the harder): MENOPAUSE.

Menopause is one of the best words ever. Say it to any man and you’ll hear an ‘oh’ and then a long pause. I know that’s not why the word is what it is, but still – it’s damned funny. And being this side of menopause (yes, menstruation free for going on 3 years now) I’ve got a much more laid back view of … well, of everything (And yes! I know I probably seem uptight about a lot of stuff. Trust me, I’ve relaxed immensely). So I can laugh more at myself than I used to. Which is good, because there was a time – a long time in my life – when I couldn’t laugh at myself at all. Like, all through my early life. I didn’t really develop my self-humor until I hit my 30s. Strike that. My LATE 30s.

It was a relief to not be tied up in the social interaction I observed last night. I saw it, I caught what was going on and WHY, and I smiled about it. In my 20s, I would have caused a scene. I would have demanded attention from at least one of these men. Why? Oh, that was my self worth. To be attractive was pretty much everything to me. I knew I was smart, and talented, and creative, and fun. I didn’t know I was attractive, so I needed reassurance continually. That need in me caused me to act out. Yes, I can see it now. Hindsight and all that shit. I can’t honestly say I’ve let go completely of my ego: I haven’t. I still sigh a bit when I look in the mirror at my laugh lines and not so sparkling skin. And don’t even ask me about my ass right now: it sticks out too much to even mention. *shudder* So no, I’m not at the top of the pinnacle of not caring about my outer appearance yet. I’m not above a casual flirt to make myself feel better. But I am above a self hurting spiral of negativity and grasping at straws.

And at least now I’ve got a clean slate again. No one texting me with sex messages. No one asking for a chat when they really want something else from me. I feel like I can walk around this city without that self consciousness I was developing. Whew! Shake that shit off. I am NOT my body.


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