Shit happens, yeah?
Once upon a time in my early twenties, I would not sleep until five in the morning due to an addiction to all things Grindr, sex, and validation. For those who don’t know about Grindr, it’s a gay dating app but mainly more of an online meat market of sorts. And if we are speaking in metaphor, I didn’t know how to “market” myself then. Also, I used to internalize not being masculine, fit, and anything else normal enough and marketable. Those internalizations led me to constantly feel that the only way I would ever be good enough was if I had sex with someone I met on Grindr. And obviously, one and two plus four was never enough for me.
An everyday poison
Grindr became a soul consuming liability on my security as my addiction empowered my demons and darkest insecurities. Every hour of every day (I kid you not) had been spent pondering about everything Grindr related: my picture, men, and approval. I would at least change my picture everyday because each one I hated after getting no attention. In fact, I would change my picture often enough to be banned for the day from doing so again. Obsession was an understatement to describe my need for validation and it was deeper than looks.
Rejection was a daily instance by one man or another and the hurt feelings swallowed me whole. One guy did not like me because I wasn’t athletically built and another because I came off as too feminine. Then another man would ask me to send pictures of myself only to block me after I sent the few I obsessed over. And there were the blessed deviants who demanded naked pictures or would block me, and most of the time I caved. Top that off with the closeted men who demanded I be masculine and tell me they didn’t want to deal with a “faggot”. Those came a dime too many dozens at the expense of questioning my gender.
With these obsessions came the need to have sex everyday. Sex became the biggest craving I had besides nicotine and if I didn’t have it at least once a day, I was wrecked. Simultaneously, I knew how unhealthy a sex addiction could be and even more so an addiction to Grindr. Yet, I couldn’t stop. Each time I had sex with someone new, another bit of my dignity went down the drain. It had nothing to do with the act of sleeping around but everything to do with why I was doing it. My insecurities controlled me more than anything else.
Fast forward to the point where I’m almost twenty-five and I haven’t had sex for six months. My obsession with getting validation from men transformed into an obsession with bettering myself. The thing is, after dealing with insecurities daily you begin to lose patience for them. At that point, the choice is to continue down a rabbit hole or to move on and up from poor coping mechanisms. For me, I decided the latter and began to truly take self improvement very seriously. However, now I’m scared of sex and dating and all things intimate.
I jumped from one extreme to the opposite, but I rather this one instead. Seldom do I miss being on my knees or face down for a stranger because I don’t care for it anymore. As I mentioned before, patience runs thin and I lost all of mine in regards to sex, Grindr, and my demons. And honestly, loving myself and being validated based upon my growth as a person tastes better than any dick ever did. I would not trade that for anything in the world. And most definitely not even for the perfect man to “complete” me.
I prefer to summarize everything by saying that a lack of patience for sex, Grindr, and men led me to become more of a sex-phobe. And if sex-phobe is the wrong term to use, then I rather say someone who doesn’t give a fuck anymore. I’m tired of having to apologize for my femininity and even more so feeling like I need to cover it up. Hiding my body out of shame and questioning my masculinity 24/7 will not do it for me anymore. I rather lay my self worth in the goals I complete than the men who crave perfection while I’m nothing of the sort.
Truly, I hope to get to a point where I can comfortably have sex again. However, this time I want to enjoy sex for what it is. I rather not use sex to fill my deepest, most darkest holes. I want a man to treat me properly and not like a disposable piece of trash. In order to get what I want, I have to truly see myself as more than that. Also, Grindr is too triggering for me at this point, so I’m fucking myself and loving it one hundred percent.