This is a post to say I was about to vague!blog about some asshole from my past, and that I overcame that urge. Go me.
Wanted: Employee for Entry Level Position
The successful candidate will have a minimum of five years experience in a similar role, own their own transport, be related to someone I know and like, be proficient in Excel and kangaroo wrangling, have gold-plated nipples, and be willing to work full hours at minimum wage.
Ang, I know you love the heck out of me, and I know this is loving advice.
But, I promise, I’ve got my own interests and self-respect at heart, and I’m being careful with where this goes next. I don’t classify them as “games”, I do think he honestly fucked up in his cluelessness. I can tell when I’m being manipulated, I don’t sense that now.
Also, as the dude very recently went through a divorce, I’m willing to give a bit more leeway than the average bear since I know such an event can fuck with your head.
EVER has a right to touch you if you don’t want to be touched.
Not your husband. Not your fiance. Not your boyfriend. Not your partner. Not your friends. Not even your own family.
You are a person and your body is your own. And it’s a privilege if you allow someone to touch it.
A god damn privilege that can be snatched up and you don’t owe anyone a reason but that it’s your body and only YOUR body.
Goddamn. What a week.
Romantic life stuff under the cut. Nothing TMI, but if you don’t like reading about other people’s drama, then skip this.