Oopsy.

 

 

I tried an experiment yesterday. Not like my usual social experiments, but an experiment in comfort levels with my body.

I went out with Indigo to do a spa day in anticipation of my dates this weekend. So to push myself a little further out of my comfort zone I wore an old favorite top, a turquoise bohemian number that looks better if you don’t wear a bra.

The only time I go braless in public is to check the mail on my front porch. I don’t even run around without one if I know there’s someone else in the house besides my roommate.  Simply because, with piercings… there is no hiding the evidence and I am far too uncomfortable with the attention to my breasts – as we have already established in previous posts about my frustrations with my body.

Anywhoo, I went the entire day without my bra, nipple rings studding the fabric of my shirt and drawing eyes and every time I felt the urge to hide, run away or punch someone… I resisted.

Very few of you will ever know how much it took for me to leave the house sans bra.  Fewer still, will know how hard it was to have someone make vocal commentary about my nipples and me not run off and eat a pack of cookies or a milkshake and hide under a giant sweater in an effort to hide.

The first three hours were the hardest and it sort of came to a head when I stood in front of JawnnieAce to order a coffee and he reached across the counter with a pen that had a feather taped to the end and tickled my left breast.  “You’re sticking out.” He said.

“I know.” I pointed back at him and said, “You are too.”

We laughed and only because it was JawnnieAce did it not bother me.  I am never threatened by him and his random groping – and despite my normal responses to most men, my comfort level with him in my space is surprisingly comfortable and easy.  There are few men I allow that kind of liberty – he just happens to be one, and after that…. my fear and insecurity and awareness just sort of evaporated and I relaxed into my skin and spent the rest of the day enjoying the freedom of not having my boobs squashed and pinched by a bra. Thanks JawnnieAce.

I went home to write and was too claustrophobic – I couldn’t stay sitting or in the house so I left to drive and go to the Mt. Tabor Park.

Later that night we met up at the Lucky Devil to play poker in public. My first outing with the guys I usually play with and an environment that is more, well, erotic per the strippers and more serious poker, per the regulars that come there to win money.  JawnnieAce was right, it’s an entirely different game than I’m used to.  Gone were the friendly banter and smack talk, replaced with serious frowns and contemplation. Oh, my god! So much fun to watch!

At one point I was standing at the bar to order a coffee when a guy touched my exposed lower back with the palm of his hand as if to guide me to turn around.  My instinct was to spin and flatten him with an uppercut, but instead I turned around and he said, “Excuse me. I’m Gordon, what’s your name.” We talked for a minute but then he fled without looking back and I am certain it was because I gave off the vibe – “You fucking touched me, and you are not one of my peeps! Don’t fucking touch me!”

Like I said, it’s an experiment – that doesn’t mean I’m a good at it yet.  But I’m actively working at it, right? I didn’t hit him.  Shouldn’t that count for something?

The night went on and I played and lost almost immediately but then decided to sit and watch the game some more when Maurice, the dealer, turned and asked what night I would be free so he could take me to dinner.

Here is an insight to the thought process:

RUN AWAY! SAY NO! PUT YOUR JACKET BACK ON! CRAP!!!

“Uhm. I dunno. I’m booked all the way through the second week of August.”

“Really? You don’t have a free two hours to get a drink for two weeks?”

FUCK! HE’S PUSHY! RUN AWAY-RUN AWAY! SAY NO, GO TO HELL! WE’RE IN A FUCKING STRIP CLUB SAY NO!

“What about tomorrow?” He asked.

“I work tomorrow.”

“What time do you get off?”

TELL HIM TO FUCK OFF……. Wait a minute, HOLY PANIC, BATMAN! He’s the first guy not from Craigslist to ask you out in a year, and you are going to say no? One year. Online doesn’t count for being asked out and most of the online dates you have are because YOU initiated them, Athena. YOU put up the ad. Both of your dates this weekend were set because YOU asked. What would it be like to go out with someone who approached you, asked you? Someone who is not a friend, but a total stranger. WEIRD!

“I get off work at 6pm.”

OKAY, SLOWLY…. Don’t panic. It will be okay. He seems like a nice guy. Don’t give off the defensive fuck you vibe. Try  – just TRY being open to going out with someone that approached you. 

I felt uncomfortable in my skin. Limbs awkward. I checked the distance to the door, and suddenly felt grateful that I have always been the aggressor – there is such a feeling of helplessness in this side. But I told the Universe to surprise me. I asked myself to be open to new possibilities. I made a pact with myself that as I am turning thirty – I will stop being afraid that I might have fun.

We talked a little longer and finally agreed to go to a movie.

“Okay. I’d like that.” I said.

“Really?” He sounded surprised and not totally convinced – can I blame him for that?

“Yes. I’d really like that.”

Okay, Athena, you have not been approached, in a very long time. Let go of the panic response, because despite the uncomfortable and foreign feeling – you actually are very flattered and would probably really enjoy going out with him.  Try it. Just try it.  You can’t go on living your life ready to throw punches or have panic attacks when it’s all harmless socializing.

As I was leaving I said good night o JawnnieAce and told him about my date with Maurice. He smiled and hugged me and said, “Oh no! Does that mean if you are going to start dating that I can’t objectify you anymore?”

I laughed, “No darling, you go ahead and objectify my all you like so long as I can return the favor.”

“Oh good,” He said and tweaked my nipple as I cupped his sac. “You saucy wench.”

I drove home wondering what this disparity is between my comfort levels with playing at sexualizing with my guys friends like JawnnieAce and my fear of really opening myself up to men outside my sphere.  What would my life be like it I weren’t so paranoid?

What would my life be like if I could enjoy that lack of fear and that sense of openness with guys in general. Not cupping nut sacs and pinching nipples kind of comfort – but at least not the hyper defensive  – ready to throw down, angry retaliation to a strange man asking for my name….

What would that be like?

I don’t know, so maybe I’ll try it.