Well, I haven’t had sex for two months. And honestly? It’s bothered me way less than I thought it would. I used to think I craved intimacy, or sex, or both and I still do but now I realize I can wait. I want it when it feels real. When I actually feel close to someone not just physically, but in conversation, in energy, in vibe. For now, that kind of intimacy already feels enough.
Love comes in so many shapes and forms, and maybe I just found one of mine when I adopted my cat. I think that decision quietly changed the way I think about a lot of things. I didn’t even realize it at first. But suddenly I’m this anxious cat mom. If her belly looks too round, I’m on Google at 2 a.m. like, “Is she sick? Is it normal? Is she dying??”
And of course, most of the time she’s just full. She ate too much. She’s fine. But that anxiousness feels kind of good, you know? It means I’m paying attention. She’s so playful and naughty sometimes like most kitten are. Climbs on things she shouldn’t. Scratches what I told her not to. Drives me insane, but also having a cat weirdly made me more grounded.
Also, lowkey… I lost a bit of weight during the first two weeks of having her. I started moving more, cleaning, chasing her, eating less junk, and somehow I just felt better. Like she forced me to live a little healthier. Just by existing.
Another thing I realized is… I’m actually a good mom. Like, I used to wonder. I kinda knew I’d be a good one, but who’s ever sure, right? But now? Oh, I know I’m good at this shit. And that also means I’d never have a kid, because I love them too much to throw them into this world right now. Look at the world. It’s insane. Having a human baby is a whole different level. Even though I know I’d be a good mom, I still wouldn’t do that now.
All my friends keep saying I named her after my ex, which, okay, maybe subconsciously I did. But I swear I didn’t plan it. It just… happened. He’s probably just still somewhere in my brain. And I know, I know, I’m not thinking about him in a sad way. I’m just reminiscing about the good times, you know? It was nice while it lasted. That’s all.
Anyway, back to my life because I feel like it’s getting better as I age. Or maybe it’s not even about aging; maybe it’s just that I’m learning. I think our thoughts evolve every day, in some way or another. Because if we’re not changing, then what’s even the point?
I think we’re all here to create something. Even if it’s not physical, we’re still creating. Energy, emotion, space. Every single day, we shape the environment around us, even when we don’t realize it. That’s why sometimes you meet someone and instantly love their vibe, or hate it. It’s energy. It’s invisible, but you feel it.
When someone triggers you, that’s energy too. It’s not random. You might want what they have, or you might see something in them you don’t like about yourself. And instead of just hating them, maybe look within. Ask yourself why that energy hit you like that.
I’m not saying every situation has deep meaning, sometimes shit just happens, but I also think looking deeper can be fun. But that’s just who I am, because I do everything deeply for fun.
And when I stop to think about it, I actually create a lot. I create laughter. I make people smile or forget about how messed up everything is for a second. I create space, a space where people can just be themselves with me, because who am I to judge? I’m not better than anyone. And I created this fucking blog.
So yeah, I’m creating even when I’m just sitting here overthinking my cat’s belly. Or literally everything in my fucking life. We’re always creating something, for the community, for yourself, for each other, for the people you love, even for the ones you can’t stand.
Sometimes, I think people should really try looking inward for once. And other times, I think people should stop doing it so much. Some people should shut their mouths, and some people should finally open theirs.
I used to be so non-confrontational, always trying to be nice. But for what? For who? To keep someone else comfortable while I suffer? Yeah, no. I’m not doing that anymore. Lately, I realized, some people really need to be told off. Not in a “fight everyone” kind of way, but if something’s wrong, say it. Because some people genuinely don’t know they’re being awful until someone says it out loud.
But on the other hand, if you’re the kind of person who overanalyzes every single thing, stop it. You’ll go insane. Sometimes all you can do is say I don’t give a fuck, and move on.
Because what’s the alternative? Cry forever? Life goes on whether you cry or not. And I don’t see the point in suffering to prove you’re “growing.” If pain is your aesthetic, then fine, go live your miserable life in silence. But I’m not doing that ever again.
And honestly… maybe being sexless for 2 months made me reflect way too much. I started this blog by saying I haven’t had sex in 2 months and somehow ended up writing about healing, energy, cats, and emotional evolution. Maybe not fucking is doing something to me. And of course I still want sex, who doesn’t want some good sex? But I only want the good kind now.
And how would I know which one is good? I don’t. That’s why we have to talk for 6 hours straight first. Let me talk your ear off, let me be myself for a long-ass time, then maybe you get to see my special sexy place. And of course we’ll never know for sure, but isn’t that kinda the point? To live a little? Well. I think that’s it for today. Have a good, fun life everyone. xx
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