Okay, I have thought about this all day. Here is what I came up with:
- In the house, time, place, circumstance that I grew up in, sexy was a 4-letter word. I grew up in very conservative New England town and was raised Catholic. Sexy was not a thing I aspired to be or even fully understood until I was out on my own and even then the concept made me uneasy.
- I was raised to believe that being sexy wouldn’t find you a long-term mate, just a bunch of short-term ones. In reality that is not remotely true but when I was young, I didn’t know any better.
- I was okay with not being particularly attractive or sexy because all I ever wanted to be was taken seriously by the people around me. I wanted to be the smart one. I never aspired to be the attractive one.
- For some people, there comes a point in their life where they age out of giving a fart about sex. I have already reached that age. Not everyone gets there in their lifetime but for someone like me, it means that sex holds very little interest anymore. (Please don’t feel bad for me — I promise that I don’t miss it.) I have fond memories of the lovely relationships I have had in the past but have no desire to repeat them. It could be menopause, it could be heredity, it could be health issues — whatever it is, I am content to be alone.
In summary, I do like myself and don’t really feel like I am missing out on anything. This is kind of just the way that I am wired. It’s difficult to articulate to other people how this feels because I am under the impression that most people feel much more strongly about sex than I ever did. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
So thanks again, sweet Cyborg! It is my hope that the radiance of your heart is reflected back to you tenfold.