Safety Nets

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Having a boyfriend makes me feel safe.

My relationship status makes me feel secure.

I can talk to guys, and sometimes flirt with guys, without any fear of repercussions or pursuits.

I am taken.

I am off the market and men responded in kind. They feel they can talk to me, the pressure to impress isn’t there and I make sure of it.

So they open up.

I can be their friend, their compatriot, they can test their stuff on me and not worry.

I love being part of their lives without worrying about messy breakups or awkward dates.

My genitalia doesn’t define me.

They treat me like an actual person, a standard human being.

I’m just one of the lads, one of the group, they can feel comfortable around me.

Don’t get me wrong though.

I believe men and women can be single and friends without worrying about underlying sexual tensions.

The different body parts shouldn’t be a factor when building friendships.

Its jealous boyfriends and girlfriends that say otherwise.

They just don’t trust their partners… or anyone for that matter, idiots.

I digress.

It’s just, being in a relationship gives you that added factor, that added wiggle room.

You can push the boundaries a bit more and still feel secure.

Now, what I do, what I really enjoy, is observing my friends new partners.

I guess it stems from a fear.

From a past of broken friendships.

I worry about whether or not they will fit in, what they will do to our group, how they will affect us.

So I like to see how they respond, to me and the other girls in our group.

If they don’t overreact and don’t go ape-shit they are keepers.

Simple.

I respect them.

I befriend them.

If not, well… the decision is usually made for us.

My friend will either see the light and ditch their new squeeze or I, and any other lady friend, will never see them again.

I hate the latter.

It hurts.

They’ve devalued the friendship and discarded it.

It’s a stab in the back.

But some girlfriends just can’t handle my lady goods.

That’s how it goes.

I’m able to see the distinction because I am in a trusting relationship.

I don’t mind my man having lady friends and, likewise.

That’s why we are so compatible.

Guess you could call me a tomboy, but I find the phrase insulting.

I’m just normal, I have many interests.

Nothing is gender specific anymore.

The term Tomboy, is outdated.

So please refrain from using it around me.

Anyway, back to what I was saying.

I have never felt more able to be myself.

I’m not out to snag a lover.

I don’t need to.

I’m out there to find people who will accept my ridiculous personality, to be as real as possible and see what comes back.

When I was single I was a nervous wreck.

Zero confidence.

Now I can approach and engage with ease.

Flirting isn’t a clumsy tongue-tied affair.

It’s just a spot of fun.

I can also dance like a normal person.

No sexy boring dancing for me, no thank you.

I jump and mosh with the boys without worrying about getting sweaty, just bruised.

Clubbing has lost its sheen though.

I no longer find it enjoyable having men press themselves against me to gyrate and hump like a dog on heat.

Wait, when was that ever enjoyable?

Clubbing is a frenzy of singletons.

You can liken it to any mating season in the animal kingdom, every species has one.

When you’re there just to dance and have fun, little things you were able to brush over before become colossal irritations.

People bumping into you all the time, people walking through your group and people drunkenly leaning on you, it all adds up.

You begin to wonder, is it worth it?

The deafening music, the expensive drinks and the inability to really get your groove on begins to gripe you.

I have a living room, an IPod and a kitchen that can provide better entertainment.

So that’s one downside to being in a relationship, you grow up, and only go clubbing if you really, really must.

Is that a huge loss though really? No, more a relief.

Having a boyfriend has saved me from many unwanted suitors and it has also helped me to make some interesting friendships.

I must have been a very incapable singleton, a gawky novice.

I’m sure if I was single now, I’d be able to cope, but I’m thankful for my safety net.

I’m thankful I have a man that trusts me.

A man that lets me bat my eyelids every once in a while and doesn’t mind me being silly with somebody else, even if it is a man.

It works both ways though and I’m pretty sure his feelings are identical.

I can be rebellious and safe all at the same time.

It’s not a bad way to live I think.

An Ode to Slippers

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Hugs, marshmallows, clouds and feathers,

I step upon them

all in all

weathers.

Hidden inside, afraid to spoil,

woollen woven hooves

snuggled safe from recoil.

Six pairs have I,

though one late dead

from heavy heels and,

thoughts; weighted down my treads.

So five remain, all waiting,

for my toes to enter

like eggs returning to nest

too delicate to wander.

And like a gander I waddle, cocksure,

in my slippers

sure never to feel rough ground or stone

just carpets and fur together are sewn.