Sunday morning, at 2:30 AM, I was jostled from my deep slumber by the obnoxious trill of my cellphone alerting me to a new text message. I knew it had to be one of two people. Anyone else who would text at such a late hour would be being rude, but a booty call is just playing by the rules. The Frisky: How I Look At Myself In The Mirror These Days
I didn't get the little rush I usually feel when I realize someone wants to come over to bang me in the middle of the night. I didn't even really feel flattered. I glanced at my phone to double check—yep, Likely Candidate #1, the 28-year-old who was probably hoping for a good luck f**k on behalf of the Jets before that evening's championship game. I clicked my phone to silent and got back underneath the covers. Not interested. This was kind of a big deal, as two weeks ago—before I began my sex/dating/drinking sabbatical—I would have texted him back in the affirmative and spent the 15 minutes before he arrived ensuring I didn't have bad breath and that my armpits were shaved.
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The day after getting booty called—well, I guess it would be later that same day, considering it came so early in the morning—I ran into the person who's been kind of tugging at my heart strings for the last month or so. The person who prompted my sabbatical in the first place. Seeing him led to me thinking about him and thinking about him led to me questioning myself, my worthiness. He doesn't like you the way you like him, the self-destructive devil on my shoulder whispered in my ear. When was the last time someone did? The Frisky: Why Does My Success Send Men Running Scared?
Thoughts like this dart through my brain on a fairly regular basis. But what I've found is that by not drinking, I'm able to acknowledge those thoughts and sit with them, but at an arm's length. Normally when I'm feeling low about myself, I seek out positive validation from someone else; had I been drinking and gotten booty called that night instead, I likely would have responded. But I wasn't drinking, so when I started to crave physical affection from someone—anyone—in order to get that high of pseudo self-esteem, I saw it for what it was. A temporary fix for an ongoing problem where I wonder if I haven't found love again simply because I am not worthy of it.