Yeah, I know, I abandon my tiny little corner of the universe for months on end, and now I am overposting like mad.
So, here’s the deal . . .
FM is sort of famous in his world — and in mine. I mentioned FM to a new potential suitor who lives states away. And he recognized him immediately. Yeah, awesome. It’s kinda cool, but my life got super-public — and still is.
FM talks about me all the time. People all across the country pay attention to me because of him. It sort of scared the hell out of me.
I am private. I date men who value their privacy.
There are two photos of BFD on my facebook page. He’s tagged in neither. LP and I were never friends on facebook. My friends — my friends! — refer to LP in code. Never by name. By fucking code!
It’s absurd, and yet, my life is very open and very social and I flow through a lot of different worlds, so I value my personal life staying personal.
FM and I have kissed publicly. Fought publicly. Argued publicly. Loudly. As recently as last Saturday night, embarrassingly, when he was such an asshole to me — in front of his “girlfriend” who flew in from out of town for his birthday — that everyone was embarrassed and my adorable date for the evening (so handsome, so dumb) had to hold me back from . . . I don’t exactly know, but I was infuriated.
At one point, our relationship became violent. It happened. I am not proud. Neither is he. I shoved him after he got in my face yelling at me. It escalated from there. It was bad. It was so bad I’ve never told anyone about it. It was so bad friends of ours knew anyway.
We talked about it later, and had to acknowledge that our relationship has always been passionate — in good ways and in bad. That was so bad, I was a little ptsdy for a while. I am not entirely over it. I may never be. We’re still friends. We’re still best friends. We have slept together since. He still lives here (for now).
But, it changed everything. And yet, we still love each other.
Because my life with him, the intimate details of my life with him, became so public, I stopped posting.
I was afraid everyone in the world would put it all together and out him and me. Mostly, me. I am terrified of the general public knowing these things about me.
Obvious question: Then why publish them to the internet?!
This has been my journal and my therapy for nearly 4 years. Through recovery from my breakup with A, with whom I spent more than 7 years, through my weight loss, through my financial problems (ongoing, but not nearly as bad as before), through my relationships with BP, with BFD, with LP, etc., and through my eating disorder (ongoing, but not nearly as bad as before).
You’ve been here.
Now that FM is transitioning out of my daily life, I am more comfortable posting. But more importantly, I need to go back to posting. I need to go back to holding myself fucking accountable in public for the shit that I do.
I really do.
This is part of my therapy, part of my sanity, part of my ability to manage myself.
Making it public is important. I am anonymous, only semianonymous to some of you who follow me in social media. You know who I am, what I look like, how my life, friends, and weight may fluctuate. (It’s an obsession. I am not fat. I’ve not been fat for years, but I obsess about it.)
That gorgeous blonde I am always with . . . that’s my girlfriend C. The super skinny beautiful blond . . . that’s PRX. The skinny gorgeous blonde . . . that’s M who’s a successful business owner, style maker, and has become one of our dear friends. FM is obvious to everyone. He’s fucking FM. He’s loud, he’s obnoxious, his narcissism knows no bounds. PR shows up rarely, often in a hat. BFD shows up very rarely.
But my life is sort of public, and we all get so identifiable, and it’s quite stressful and disturbing.
But this is about me. Not about them.
I need this site. And I need you.
So, I am back.
I will be oversharing. I will be making my anonymous life public. I will be holding myself accountable. And I expect you to hold me accountable, too.