I did not have low self-esteem for engaging in sexual activity. I had nerve endings. Thousands of nerve endings that enjoy and respond to pleasure just like any other person.
With previous relationships, she wanted to express what she felt, thought and wanted, but held back out of fear, of hoping he would say it first. This time, she told him everything. She told him who she was. She let him know she was too much, too little, too crazy, too weird, too ravenous, and ...
I’ve never said this out loud to another person before. I’ve been struggling lately, and noticing my desire for comfort. To just be next to someone and be held. I’ve never wanted it before. Or maybe I haven’t let myself want it, but I do want it.
She sneaks snacks from others who willingly hold their hands out to her, the stray cat. They pet her, and tell her how beautiful she is, and she shines like she once did for him. She feels guilty for taking their snacks.
He holds the scary broken pieces you’ve swept away into a corner and hands them to you, reminding you that you are indeed capable of anything and there is nothing to be afraid of. He pulls off your mask, your costume, and continues to accept you.