And Then I Lost It

I remember losing it as a twelve year old in a movie theatre with a boy who I had known since elementary school. I remember losing it as a fourteen year old in a movie theatre with a boy I knew for a year. I remember losing it as a sixteen year old to a guy who was too old for me, too experienced, too much for me. I remember losing my sexy.

Swear to God it may sound crazy, but every being in my body forgets what I've seen in movies, in Marie Claire articles, and in what my mother has told me. I forget how to be sexy. And if that isn't enough being a klutz doesn't help the situation. I found myself getting nervous…always being conscious about how my body moved here, how i kissed there, was my hand in the right place? God, everything came to a halt. I would question if I was good, or better yet, how I could improve. They said I was fine. FINE. Fine wasn't good enough for me.

There I lost it some more.

I wreaked havoc upon boys my age. I became cold. I didn't want anyone around me. I was hurt, but in reality it was my own damn fault. I was self inflicting pain upon myself because I lost what I thought I'd keep forever. I was damaging my ego. And then one day, I quit.

I quit trying to be this perfect, utterly romantic (and quite disgusting) human I wanted to be. I saw my imperfections and embraced them. I saw what others (esp. guys) saw in me. I saw my Coca Cola bottle body and learned to love it. Each curve, each roll, each dimple. I learned that my lanky body had evolved into this Junoesque figure that bewildered men when I passed by. Hips for making love for each hour on end. I learned to love.

And then I reclaimed it.