bonus blog: reality rears its ugly head

Well. That synopsis of what happens at SL is all well and good — and mostly true. But deep down inside I am still often a scared, vulnerable, flawed little girl, the teenager sitting at the edge of the dance, hoping someone asks her to dance, but thinking that someone probably won’t. I can say with pretty good certainty that I will play with people that I want to play with. But feelings will come up. A good time all gets complicated by my never-ending negative internal tapes.

I’ll criticize my body and compare it to others’ bodies. I’ll feel hurt because some top said he wanted to play, but doesn’t make a better effort to find me and commit to a time. I’ll feel old. I’ll see someone else’s dress or shoes and start to think MY dress isn’t good enough. I won’t feel smart enough when someone starts talking about politics. I’ll mispronounce a word. I’ll laugh too loud. I’ll feel shy.

Ugly emotions will arise. Some strange man will ask me to play out of the blue and I’ll be tempted to snap, “Ever think of introducing yourself first?” I will judge at least one person (probably more) based on appearance — despite all my pompous claims that it’s not about appearance.

I will brat and go too far, then regret it later and beat myself up for a full day, because I know I’m just broadcasting my insecurities, my desire for attention, and, let’s face it, my greed.

I will do the exact opposite and run around trying to make sure everyone else has a good time (neglecting my own needs and wants).

So I'm praying now that I can obtain a healthy balance somehow: to have fun, to be nice, and to be just a little selfish without going too far.

The last thing I want to say is I need some hot scenes this weekend, one or two good thrashings. Oh, I plan to dish it out, too. But I do NOT plan on living vicariously at this party. I need to be taken down a notch or two. I need to be given what for…