From Grindr to Growth: An LGBTQ Journey in Meditation
I was a mess, searching for love in guy after guy, hoping one would want to stay and take care of me.
The glow from my screen lit up my face in the mirror, casting a harsh light that caught my eyes.
In a fleeting moment, my eyes betrayed me — tired, agitated, and achingly lonely, they stared back, reflecting a soul weary from the endless digital parade of potential encounters.
My face looked so broken, so desperate for connection, so infinitely lonely.
I knew where this road led: a fleeting encounter at the end of the night with a man whose name I’d never know. Sex replacing connection, the digital world the sole proprietor of our sexual and emotional currency. That evening, I was its chiefest buyer, lost in the glow of false promises and ephemeral affections.
We’d broken up about four months ago, my boyfriend of five years and I.
Even though we vowed to keep things amicable, to stay on good terms despite the messy tangle of last summer, I missed his touch. The absence of his presence haunted me, a silent echo in the chaos of my restless nights. I wanted to be held. I needed to be.
Fuck it.
