June 19, 2023:
Today, Voodoo and I planned to have a date night, so Ray drove us to Garden State Plaza so we could buy some clothing. During the car ride, Voodoo accidentally spilled water all over the seat and it soaked into his beige shorts, making it look as though he just had an accident.
When we arrived to the mall, we parted ways and went shopping, saying we would surprise each other with our outfits. I told myself I would never do that again—shopping, that was. I noticed a lot of judgement/anxiety come up while I was there. I felt so overwhelmed by all of the people and by the stores themselves. The music was blaring obscenities and the perfumes in the air felt toxic. It felt like all the clothing was whorish and scandalous.
I couldn’t believe how I used to think wearing skin tight outfits was sexy. I could still see moments in which I desired to wear stuff like that, but over the years, I watched that pattern fade away as I began to dip my toes more into modesty. Lately, I could see how anytime I felt a desire to wear something revealing, there was an underlying energy of wanting attention or wanting to be sexualized. I was often mistaken in my understanding that attention from men would bring me the love I so deeply desired. Still, I had a difficult time separating the two (lust from love).
My mom used to always tell me to leave things to the imagination and that it wasn’t necessarily sexy to wear skin tight clothing, but of course I knew I didn’t have a choice in what I did. Instead, I watched and appreciated my mother’s glamour from the side lines, curious and inspired to be more modest like her even though I was very far from that.
Eventually, I found some tattered clothing, mostly from Hot Topic, along with some bright red snakeskin heeled boots I bought from Freebird. I even delighted myself in purchasing some spicy lingerie to wear for Voodoo at the end of the day. At the end of our shopping spree, we surprised each other with our outfits, both of us sporting an all black, punk/gothic look. The scene girl still lived strong inside of me.
We took some pictures, then Voodoo took me out to eat at a nice restaurant which was something he wanted to do for a while. While at the dinner table, it felt like he didn’t want to be present with me, or maybe couldn’t. He appeared easily distracted by the things around him and seemed to find it difficult to just sit still and enjoy each others company. Eventually, he left to go smoke a cigarette for quite some time, so I chatted with the man next to me for the meantime. When he came back, I felt standoffish, as if the sense of emptiness and lack of connection lingered on.
Then, it progressed to another ‘problem’ we had been experiencing in our relationship. Voodoo knew that I really enjoyed when a man paid for things, but I felt he was paying for my things just to keep me somewhat satisfied, although energetically, I could feel it wasn’t inspiring to him, nor was it something he genuinely wanted to do.
My heart needed much more than just the physical act of him paying. For one, I wanted it to come from his heart and not feel like it was some sort of burden. He assured me it wasn’t, but then would make consistent comments about how much something cost or how I “better enjoy it” because it cost “x” amount of dollars. There seemed to be stress around it for him, so I told him numerous times that I would rather pay for myself if he wanted to keep commenting on how much things cost.
It was okay to have preferences and if he didn’t resonate with a girl who wanted to have men provide for her, I completely understood. I was capable of separating ways and moving on; in fact, I felt it was better to figure out what dynamics worked for each other and which ones didn’t, so that we could both cut to the chase rather than pretending we were okay with certain things.
Overall, I just felt my needs and desires as a woman were going more unnoticed. I spent a lot of time finding the perfect outfit so I could look as beautiful as possible for him. I wanted him to notice me and watch the way I walked in high heels for him. I wanted him to spin me around and not be able to take his eyes off me. When he wouldn’t give me that, I would just walk away and go on my own way. When he wasn’t by my side, I would get cat called and showered with compliments from other men. Although I knew their words held no substance, it felt nice to actually feel adored and cherished. He hated when I went off on my own and left his side, while I seemed to hate the perception of not feeling appreciated by the man who I wanted the attention from the most.
It seemed I needed a lot of kisses, touches and eye contact to feel that, when often times it felt I instead received distance and aloofness from him. It also felt as if when I communicated those desires (numerous times) and they weren’t being met, I would just start to look elsewhere.
When we made it back to Ray’s, our tummies were full and we felt tired. We called it a night early, but I still let him play with my body in my sparkling red lingerie.
Today, Voodoo and I planned to have a date night, so Ray drove us to Garden State Plaza so we could buy some clothing. During the car ride, Voodoo accidentally spilled water all over the seat and it soaked into his beige shorts, making it look as though he just had an accident.
When we arrived to the mall, we parted ways and went shopping, saying we would surprise each other with our outfits. I told myself I would never do that again—shopping, that was. I noticed a lot of judgement/anxiety come up while I was there. I felt so overwhelmed by all of the people and by the stores themselves. The music was blaring obscenities and the perfumes in the air felt toxic. It felt like all the clothing was whorish and scandalous.
I couldn’t believe how I used to think wearing skin tight outfits was sexy. I could still see moments in which I desired to wear stuff like that, but over the years, I watched that pattern fade away as I began to dip my toes more into modesty. Lately, I could see how anytime I felt a desire to wear something revealing, there was an underlying energy of wanting attention or wanting to be sexualized. I was often mistaken in my understanding that attention from men would bring me the love I so deeply desired. Still, I had a difficult time separating the two (lust from love).
My mom used to always tell me to leave things to the imagination and that it wasn’t necessarily sexy to wear skin tight clothing, but of course I knew I didn’t have a choice in what I did. Instead, I watched and appreciated my mother’s glamour from the side lines, curious and inspired to be more modest like her even though I was very far from that.
Eventually, I found some tattered clothing, mostly from Hot Topic, along with some bright red snakeskin heeled boots I bought from Freebird. I even delighted myself in purchasing some spicy lingerie to wear for Voodoo at the end of the day. At the end of our shopping spree, we surprised each other with our outfits, both of us sporting an all black, punk/gothic look. The scene girl still lived strong inside of me.
We took some pictures, then Voodoo took me out to eat at a nice restaurant which was something he wanted to do for a while. While at the dinner table, it felt like he didn’t want to be present with me, or maybe couldn’t. He appeared easily distracted by the things around him and seemed to find it difficult to just sit still and enjoy each others company. Eventually, he left to go smoke a cigarette for quite some time, so I chatted with the man next to me for the meantime. When he came back, I felt standoffish, as if the sense of emptiness and lack of connection lingered on.
Then, it progressed to another ‘problem’ we had been experiencing in our relationship. Voodoo knew that I really enjoyed when a man paid for things, but I felt he was paying for my things just to keep me somewhat satisfied, although energetically, I could feel it wasn’t inspiring to him, nor was it something he genuinely wanted to do.
My heart needed much more than just the physical act of him paying. For one, I wanted it to come from his heart and not feel like it was some sort of burden. He assured me it wasn’t, but then would make consistent comments about how much something cost or how I “better enjoy it” because it cost “x” amount of dollars. There seemed to be stress around it for him, so I told him numerous times that I would rather pay for myself if he wanted to keep commenting on how much things cost.
It was okay to have preferences and if he didn’t resonate with a girl who wanted to have men provide for her, I completely understood. I was capable of separating ways and moving on; in fact, I felt it was better to figure out what dynamics worked for each other and which ones didn’t, so that we could both cut to the chase rather than pretending we were okay with certain things.
Overall, I just felt my needs and desires as a woman were going more unnoticed. I spent a lot of time finding the perfect outfit so I could look as beautiful as possible for him. I wanted him to notice me and watch the way I walked in high heels for him. I wanted him to spin me around and not be able to take his eyes off me. When he wouldn’t give me that, I would just walk away and go on my own way. When he wasn’t by my side, I would get cat called and showered with compliments from other men. Although I knew their words held no substance, it felt nice to actually feel adored and cherished. He hated when I went off on my own and left his side, while I seemed to hate the perception of not feeling appreciated by the man who I wanted the attention from the most.
It seemed I needed a lot of kisses, touches and eye contact to feel that, when often times it felt I instead received distance and aloofness from him. It also felt as if when I communicated those desires (numerous times) and they weren’t being met, I would just start to look elsewhere.
When we made it back to Ray’s, our tummies were full and we felt tired. We called it a night early, but I still let him play with my body in my sparkling red lingerie.
