mynamesearn

I think I just need to flirt. Like I seriously feel that in my body. I miss it. I miss the butterflies, the teasing, the playful back-and-forth. I haven’t talked to anyone in that way for a while now. I’ve been quiet. Maybe you’ve noticed.

But I’ve been a little far away from people, from conversations, from love in general. And I don’t mean just the romantic kind. I mean the feeling of being seen, feeling like someone is curious about me again. Wanting to know me, laugh with me, flirt with me.

I think I miss feeling flirtatious. Or maybe that’s just a big part of who I am. I’m the kind of person who feels alive in that spark. That electricity when you click with someone. Even if it’s nothing serious, it feels good to be in that energy. I love that version of myself. But I’ve been off lately. A little out of it.

I’ve been spending time with myself and reflecting a lot. Not even deep thinking all the time, more like just sitting in silence and feeling everything. And honestly, I haven’t fully moved on from my ex. I know he might be talking to someone now. And I also know it’s not my place to feel anything about that anymore.

But it doesn’t stop the sting. He can do whatever he wants, and so can I. And I did. I met people. I went out. I had my fun. But the truth is, a part of me still aches a little knowing he’s moved on.

I knew this day would come. Of course I did. But when it actually does, it hits different. It’s like even though your mind knows, your heart is like, “Wait, are we really done? For real?” And I guess deep down I didn’t fully move on. It’s not even a surprise. I feel it in the way I still think about whether I’ll ever find someone like that again. Someone who felt safe. Someone who loved me in a way that felt real and healthy.

I know that healing takes time. I know we all go through this part of moving on, where we wonder if we’ll ever find something like that again. And yeah, I know I will. But I’m also honest with myself. It’s not easy for me. And in my head, I feel like it’ll be easier for him. But that’s probably just my own insecurity talking. Who knows, right? Maybe he’s hurting too. Maybe not. It doesn’t even matter anymore. That chapter’s over. But I still carry it with me.

So here I am, thinking about flirting. Wanting to flirt. Craving that connection again. It reminds me of when I used to make my Sims have romantic personalities and just let them flirt with everyone. I loved watching it play out. That silly joy of watching them fall in love or get rejected, but still keep going. That’s kind of me now. I love flirting. I love the warmth that comes with it, the eye contact, the teasing, the “hot and steamy” feeling. It’s exciting.

But it’s also more than that. I think deep down, I just want to feel loved again. Not even fully loved. Just seen. Understood. Appreciated. I can talk to anyone. I can make friends wherever I go. I can go out alone and be totally fine. But sometimes I just want someone to look at me and really see me. Not for what I look like. Not for the image people create. But for who I am when I’m messy and unsure.

At the same time, I don’t want to flirt with just anyone. It has to be the right person. Someone who brings that lightness out of me. The person who makes me want to flirt, not force myself to. Lately, I just haven’t found that. And I’m not in the mood to entertain anyone who doesn’t make me feel alive. I know some of my friends see me as the fun one. The flirt who can pull anyone and bounce back easily. And yeah, I can actually flirt with anyone. But it’s not who I am all the time.

Truth is, I connect deeply with very few people. And that scares me sometimes. Because I don’t even know if the guys I meet ever actually like me. Like my soul, my brain, my essence. Or if they’re just lusting. I’ve been sitting with that feeling a lot. And I realized something.

Being lusted over used to feel flattering. Like when a guy said something like, “Damn, you have a nice body, or “You have nice tits.” I’d probably flirt back or smile like it didn’t affect me. And sure, sometimes I still do. I mean, I like feeling attractive. Who doesn’t? But there’s a difference between being admired and being reduced. Between being seen as beautiful and being seen as just a body. 

I think a lot of people see me and just reduce me to my body. Like my boobs are my whole identity. Like “Who’s Earn?” Oh, the girl with the big boobs. And I’m not even mad about my body. I like how I look. But I wish more people looked through it instead of just at it.

I think for a girl like me, someone who grew up craving love in all the wrong ways, this hits harder. I’ve got family stuff. I didn’t grow up feeling fully seen or emotionally safe. So when I was younger, if a guy gave me attention, even if it was just lust, I’d take it as something more. I thought, “Well, he noticed me, so maybe he likes me.” I confused desire with care. With love. I convinced myself that being wanted meant being valued.

So I accepted it. I let people close just because they said the right things. It felt like validation. Like maybe I mattered. But that feeling never lasted. When all someone wanted was my body, it left me feeling hollow. It didn’t make me feel safe. It didn’t make me feel loved. It made me feel disposable.

But I’ve grown now. I’ve been through enough to know the difference. I don’t want to be desired by someone who doesn’t also desire my mind. I don’t want to be touched by someone who won’t hold space for my thoughts too. I’m not just a body. I’m not just my boobs. I’m a whole person. Emotional, curious, deep, loud, thoughtful, full of light and shadow and stories. And I’m done letting anyone reduce me.

Sure, I’ll still flirt. I’ll still say thank you when someone compliments me. Because yeah, it feels good. And I like being playful. I like knowing I’ve still got it. But I set my boundaries now. I decide where it stops. I know when something’s just surface-level and when it’s real. And I don’t confuse the two anymore.

I wish more girls understood this. You can flirt and still have standards. You can feel sexy and still demand respect. You can enjoy the game without selling yourself short. It’s not about shutting people out. It’s about filtering what comes in. Knowing what deserves your energy and what doesn’t.

So yeah, go ahead. Practice your charm. Post your selfies. Wear what makes you feel powerful. Flirt with life. But don’t let anyone treat you like you’re only good enough to be touched but not kept. You’re more than that. We all are. And the right ones will see it. Not just in your body, but in your mind, your voice, your softness, your strength.

Maybe that’s why I’ve been holding back. Maybe I don’t want to flirt unless someone really sees me. Not just my curves. But the real me. The one who overthinks. The one who writes too much. The one who craves intimacy but also fears it. Because yeah, I’ve been hiding. Shrinking. Dimming myself so I wouldn’t take up too much space or scare anyone off.

But I’m tired of that. I’m tired of overthinking. I’m tired of hiding the best parts of me out of fear. I want to show up as I am. I want to post without overanalyzing. I want to walk into a room and not shrink. I want to flirt. I want to feel alive again. Maybe this whole thing isn’t even about a guy. Maybe it’s about choosing to be me again.

Whatever it is, I know one thing for sure. I’m done hiding.