Member-only story
I’m not your Boyfriend
That’s right. Not interested. Never was.
We gathered around the fire last night with the men of the tribe, sharing stories of love, desire, sex, shame and all things intimate connection related. Every man stepped up bravely by sharing the beautiful or tougher tales of his past shedding a much needed truth on the way we approach intimacy as humans and as men.
Enough to stir up the demons of my past, enough to wake up any leftover of untrue commitments I had to made to myself or others before today. A few hours of sleepless agitation put the last nail of the coffin. I had to die so I could be reborn.
It turns out, when I look at my intimate life, the one I shared with sexual partners, however short or long term, a story seems to transpire from it all. A story that does not resemble the streak of relationship chaos that has befriended me for the last ten years. After all I knew something was wrong, I just didn’t know what exactly. I think I may have a clue now.
As I shared with the men last night, I was always a lustful creature, driven by a strong passion, a wild desire and a strong appetite for nightly (or daily pleasures). I love the body, I love touch, I long for that connection. My main love language is definitely physical touch and through it I find much of the connection I need with other humans, sexual partners or not…
