About

anon-photo2

Not content with boring my friends, family and work colleagues with my love life, I decided to set up this blog so I can widen the net, and bore strangers on the internet as well.

This also allows me to make even more people feel uncomfortable with anecdotes with about my vagina.

I’m a therapist, and my angle is writing about dating from a Psychology perspective. When I’m explaining how I feel about my love life, sometimes I mention Psychological theories about what’s happening. Other times I talk about therapeutic techniques that might help me or boys I’m dating with our troubles.

Sometimes I make very bad pictures on MS Paint to depict scenes from my love life.

These are the kinds of things I say in my posts:

“I texted him a photo of my breasts. He sent a couple of complimentary messages, and then asked if, when we had sex, he could ‘finish on them’.
To be honest, I wouldn’t have minded a bit more reassurance about my body before we moved on to finalising the admin of who was going to ejaculate where.”

“I decided not to change my underwear on principle: if men can’t handle the gentle aroma and secretions of a healthy vagina, I don’t think they should be tinkering with vaginas in the first place. It’s not as though penises emit perfume and rainbows.”

“Suddenly, he put his arm around me and stroked my hair. I reacted much in the same way that I would react if a bee landed on me.”

“We had sex, which went OK.
Well, in a way, it went better than the rest of the date, because it involved him talking less.”

“When discussing the situation with a therapist friend, we agreed this guy’s bandwidth was probably too narrow, which was why he kept finding me ‘weird’.
This isn’t a penis thing, it’s a social anxiety thing.”

“It’s embarrassing it has affected me so much, when I’ve only known him for five seconds. I’ve had breakups of 3-5 year relationships that have felt like nonchalant cartwheels compared to this.
At the moment, he is the screensaver for my brain. The second I’m not completely concentrating on anything, my mind wanders back to him.”

“It used to feel like a burn, when I remembered it. It used to feel like the kind of pain where you’ve pulled your hand away before you’ve even felt it. Now it hurts but it feels like an ache I can stand.”

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s