It took me four months to decide…

Enough is enough, Alexa.

If you don’t put yourself out there, you’ll just keep feeling sorry for yourself.

You were in a sexless relationship, which you left so you could embrace your sexuality for the first time, and what do you do instead? You choose to hide from people, especially men. It’s been long enough, you’re in a good place, so just go for it!

So I did. I went for it! I started going out for a glass of wine here, a team gathering there, and sure enough, it didn’t take long for me to feel like I was back on top of the world. I was finally getting the attention I had craved so desperately in my recently dismantled relationship.

I remember saying to a friend, I went so long without sex, I’ll go home with anyone who is cute, clean and a nice guy. I’m not looking to get into another relationship. I just want a little fun.

I thought that saying those things out loud was my way of encouraging myself to be sexually liberated. I thought that was my way of finally admitting what I wanted both for myself and of myself. I felt bold and proud to be a woman standing in her “power”, making a declaration of horniness coupled with a lack of interest in an attachment.

When I said a lot of that for the first time, I thought, Geez, I’m every guy’s dream girl now, aren’t I?

I laughed and felt proud of myself. For a moment.

Let me tell you how it really played out…

I falsified an air of confidence. I was trembling on the inside, constantly wondering if I was really good enough for the men around me. I still had a hard time determining if my failed relationships up to that point had been my fault, or whether they had something to do with the “daddy issues” I never wanted to acknowledge. I claimed that I wanted one thing, but society had beat into my head and body so many other ideals that I couldn’t keep all the voices in my head straight. I suppose I started attracting men by default.

Now, if you can imagine the energy I was putting out, you can probably imagine the type of people who were finding their way to me.

The first man to give me attention… well, I had actually been drooling over him for a couple of weeks. I was certain that he’d never go for me. He was so fucking hot. Jawline, muscles, accent… I never thought he would even look at me.

That was before a mutual friend mentioned that he had asked about me. I nearly threw up I was so excited! However, I kept my cool and we eventually had a few drinks one night. That’s when I told him that I was practically a virgin, considering it had been so long since I’d been touched or given attention.

Adrenaline and pure lust coursed through me when he said in the most delicious Irish accent that he’d be honored to give me all that I’d been missing and more.

He said everything I wanted to hear. He was also endlessly smooth and came off as a complete gentleman. I gave myself permission to throw caution to the wind and let this man rock my body and mind like I had been missing and wanting for so long!

Or so I thought.

He left for work the next morning and before leaving, he told me how much he had enjoyed the evening. He told me that he’d call me later after he finished his shift…

But he didn’t.

I wondered when he’d call all day. I remember telling myself to calm down, that it was no big deal. I reminded myself that I had told him I wanted zero attachment.

But he said he was going to call. I didn’t ask for him to say that. Why would he say that and not do it? Was I really not good enough for him? What’s wrong with me?

Nothing! Fuck him then. But seriously, what the hell? He’s so hot. I at least wanted to have him a few more times…

I called him the next day and tried to play it nonchalant, which didn’t work. It came off as desperate, I’m sure. He said that he’d see me later.

I saw him in passing. It was incredibly brief, yet I could barely keep my emotional shit together. I wanted to hit him and fuck him all at the same time.

I was hurt, but why? Why was I so hurt if it was supposed to mean nothing? Was there something wrong with the way I looked, or with my body, or with something else that I didn’t even know?

I cried. Hard. Because all men are the same – PIGS. Disgusting, heartless pigs.

I told myself, See? You can’t trust any of them. See what you did, Alexa? Who were you kidding? You weren’t ready for this. You have absolutely no clue what you’re doing.

And then I found out he was seeing someone else.

So all the feelings from before were suddenly magnified by ten.

He was practically a stranger, but he still made me feel that way? Heartbroken and worthless?

Wrong… I made myself feel that way. I was a hopeless victim to my circumstances.

That is a victim role I will never play again, because I changed my script. I painstakingly pulled every single goddamn word off the page and I reassembled that shit, changed the font style, size and color.

It took more time, more tears, and more low-vibe sexual energy exchanges to figure out that what I was doing, by claiming I wanted what I really wanted, yet responding in only the way that I have ever been taught to respond –

Sex means love. My body is my worth. Unhealthy and unrequited attachment to circumstances and people who were entering spaces with me while believing my words, but then running when my actions became a crazed, fucked-up contradiction.

I had to go through trials, tribulations and a ton of research and personal development to realize my truth. It took all of that for me to understand that my quest for sexual attention was not an expression of sexual liberation in any way.

It was just sexual desperation, and if I wanted to save myself from my own masochistic actions, I would have to figure that shit out.

So, I did, but it took time. It took a lot of time being alone, with myself, getting comfortable with my own company again, before I saw any major breakthroughs. I had to remind myself that my self worth was not determined by my actions when I was naked with another person. I had to figure out my sincere likes and dislikes – everything I thought I knew – all over again. I had to fall in love with myself before I could be seen for who I really am, rather than being seen for the bullshit that often tumbled out of my mouth. I had to reconnect with my body. Self-pleasure had to change from being a thing I would occasionally do to a priority of self-to-soul connection.

I had to start seeing energy. I had to educate myself on how to be safe both sexually and emotionally, how to self-preserve and how to be stoic when necessary.

I had to learn how to be truly unfuckwithable before the quality of the men who I would allow in my space would change to a level I would accept.

I had to do the fucking work in order to lead a life of true self-love and confidence. I had to do what was necessary to become an Alexa that I was proud of. I had to become a person who everyone finds attractive on a spiritual level. I had to get so deeply in touch with my sense of self that others wanted to be around me, even if just for inspiration or to catch glimpses of what’s possible if they also allowed themselves to do the work.

So, now I have to ask you… where are you on your journey? Are you standing firmly on the ground of victimhood? Of unworthiness? Of an unknown self?

Are you afraid to let go of that and discover who you really are because of the work that it requires? Because when you remove the label of a victim, you are left naked for the world to see?

Are you more afraid of that or the life you will have if you don’t allow yourself to go there?

Are you ready to shed the sexual shame and blame of your past? Are you ready to properly say fuck off to the preconditions imposed by society, family, religion, and tradition? Are you ready to say fuck yes to a beautiful sex-positive life based on your design?

I had to figure all of this out on my own, but you don’t have to do it alone. I’m right here, my hand is out, and I am eager to help you on your journey. This is a journey where you become a phoenix, and your past bullshit story of enoughness is the ashes.

Connectedly yours,


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