Arms Opened

"Somewhere deep inside your mind
there is a peace that you will find
with or without these arms of mine"
-Beth Wood

I miss the affection of my youth. Having grown up in a household without any at all, my mother made sure my brothers and I were hugged as often as possible. When I was a preteen I went to sleep away camp and learned to hug my friends once I realized I'd miss them terribly after having spent a solid month with them day and night. I began hugging my school friends. Not in a weird way mind you, it does kind of sound that way, but in the normal way of greeting or saying goodbye. They were receptive. For me it was just an expression of how much I cherished them as friends.

I love hugging people. Only now, as an adult, I censor it...even among people I've known for awhile who know that I hug. Sometimes it's out of respect for the other person who may not want to be touched, but mostly because I feel a little awkward about what they must think of me as I rush at them with arms opened. I used to hug people I just met if it was a friend of friend who I'd heard a lot about. Sometimes I still do, but it doesn't come as naturally as it used to. I wonder where along the way I became insecure.

As with everything else regarding being human, affection is so relative it's hard to believe any two people could connect on a similar level. I throw my arms around all of my friends, both when I haven't seen them in a while and when I've just seen them yesterday. It's really the only physical expression of any kind of love in my life so it's often a need, not a formality or habit. Obviously I've never really experienced romantic affection but I have no problem imagining how wonderful it feels and how empty it must feel without it.

I can take it one step further and say it's my only source of physical contact at all. I remember watching Crash and being fascinated at how the characters, despite having people close to them, were all so starved for connections they treated each other horribly just to be able to interact. I spend a lot of time alone but I can't imagine emoting through prejudices, or doing anything out of ordinary really, just to share a brief moment with someone whether it be filled with fear or anger or happiness even. I wanted to tell a woman on the subway the other day that her perfume smelled wonderful but I couldn't bring myself to say it. I don't know why, it would probably have made her feel good as well as me in return. Does that make me repressed? Or merely in control of my emotions with enough connections to people I know that I don't have to interact with strangers?

I don't know what the people I hug think about it...they always hug back so I assume it's ok. I take from it what I can knowing that it's probably more than they do, but that's ok with me.

I found out that someone I know lives with his girlfriend but has another on the side so to speak. A 'friend with benefits' as I was discreetly told on the side. I don't know if they know about each other, but everyone else seems to know about it, and that the one he lives with is the 'main' one. This boggles my mind. I want to ask him how he feels about each of them. Is he sleeping with the non-main one just to switch it up? Or does he feel connected to both of them in different ways? Is it just a pleasure thing, aka sex as a crash of sorts, or is there an actual need for more than one of that type of physical connection? Maybe it's a guy thing? Maybe it's QV thing to be amazed at what for some people is hardly worth mentioning? Oddly enough, I haven't judged him. At least, I don't feel differently about him knowing this. I'm really just curious as to why he does it.

But I don't have anyone I can just hug for no reason. Hug for a long length of time without it being weird. Hug just to feel someone's arms around me. I miss it. So when I do get to hug, I hug tight. And as childish as it is, the tighter I hug, the more I like you. It's just the way I am. So something I'm really looking forward to when someone finally breaks through...are the hugs. (Oddly enough I don't think I'll be a snuggler in bed...however, he better damn well wrap his arms around me every other chance he gets.) It all makes perfect sense, doesn't it?

It's Ok To Peek!

Still here...just, well, haven't been motivated to write a lot lately. I suppose it's a good thing considering I seem to only write when feeling down or something stressful has happened. But on the other hand there are still times I want to write but don't know what to say considering I've pretty much beaten this dead horse well into its next life. On the third hand, I have been keeping with the positive thinking and though it may sound ridiculous, or only all in my head, I feel like I've been benefiting in small, maybe subtle ways, but benefiting nevertheless.

This post would fall under the stressful event kind I suppose. I went back to the GYN (because self-peeking is a lot less invasive than an actual self-exam.) My second appointment ever. Oddly enough I didn't feel that stressed the night before or that morning even, but that could have been because I was worrying instead about the bunch of guys that were supposed to come in the AM to fix the many things wrong with this hell hole I call an apartment.

Anyway, I made it to the appointment on time, only to end up waiting for an hour while 5 other women who arrived after me went in. This was a new doctor as the first one I went to retired (seriously, could I have more trouble with this whole issue?) so I decided this time to go to a female. I had no idea what to expect from her office, but I should have known Murphy's law would somehow play a part. I was pretty good at not completely psyching myself out though, so by the time I finally got to meet her in her office I was still somewhat relaxed.

She seemed a little rushed when she came in, but I didn't feel like she rushed me. We went through the usual barrage of questions, each one making me feel more and more like the goodiest goody two shoes that ever lived: smoke? no. drink? no. drugs? no. pregnant before? no. std's? no. sexually active? no. (I like how the pregnant/std questions came before sexually active one.) I had practiced in my head cracking a dumb virgin joke somewhere in there, or even just jumping the gun and saying 'never been', but she beat me to it. have you ever been? all I could say was no. I'm sure I was smiling broadly throughout this entire interview because that's what I do when I'm nervous.

Unlike my previous male doctor she didn't have any reaction. Not that that was any part of my being nervous but I'm always fascinated by people's reactions (the few I've witnessed anyway). Also unlike my male doctor she didn't tell me to tell the nurses that I would need the white speculum, like I was some kind of vaginal special needs patient. Within the first 5 minutes of talking with her I realized just how inappropriate the other doctor was.

Just so it's clear, I'm not trying to say don't go to a male GYN, just that in retrospect choosing this specific older male doctor wasn't the best idea for me. He was obviously on the verge of retiring and didn't have the greatest bedside manner, though he was nice enough when we spoke.

During my appointment with the new doctor I told her I wanted to start birth control (thinking 'because I'd like to start having sex eventually' but stating the real boring reason of regulating my period instead) and she explained everything in a quick but complete way. Most of it I know of course, being almost 30 I should by now whether or not I partake, but it was nice to have a doctor explain.

Her examination and the pap smear definitely felt very different and more painful than the last one. it lead me to wonder what the last doctor actually did, or if he did anything at all. My inexperience obviously speaks for itself by saying that, but there it is. He didn't warn me that I would bleed after the appointment, she went so far as to give me liner and tell me it's normal and not to worry. Overall she was gentle and kind and I will definitely go back...maybe even dread it a little less. Maybe.

I definitely felt that I wasn't my usual self, remaining mostly quiet without the self-deprecation, and I think that probably lent to the kind of quiet, good girl impression I probably gave her. Of course, I couldn't possibly know what impression she had of me, but on her way out almost as an afterthought she said, "it was nice to meet you," and smiled. I replied in same and wondered briefly if she said that to all her patients, or if (letting the cynic take over) I was the first older virgin she'd ever examined.

I have never felt righteous about being a virgin, the term itself meaning something different to everyone anyway, until I walked by a group of bible beaters on the way home from the appointment. I've passed them and their big cardboard bible quotes many times before, but for some reason this time I thought angrily to myself, "I'm more pure than any of you people will ever be." I don't know where it came from or why I thought it but I did. I don't even know what to think about the fact that I thought it. I'm not even sure it makes sense. Does anything I think really?