No, I am not an astronaut nor do I wear a NASA diaper. I am referring to rockets...well, actually my rocket. I am struggling in my recent foray into sexual activity. My ability to attain an erection appears to be inconsistent and undependable. Some days I have successful liftoff, other times not so successful. This his proving to be very difficult for me mentally and spiritually (and plays hell on a guys ego!)
This has made me think about confidence today, actually the loss of my confidence. Losing confidence is defined as no longer trusting in your ability to perform. That inability to perform causes anxiety, which leads to embarrassment , then anger and finally inner rejection of ones' self. These feelings combine to provoke internal fears and insecurities.
Fear and Insecurity - Not the ingredients that lead to great sex. This describes my time with Babushka last evening. Having waited all week for an evening together, we had both waited anxiously all week for Friday night. An evening of wine, dine and 69 -actually Diet Mt. Dew and Chinese but definitely sex.
Previous performance problems weighed on my mind last night. Babushka I am sure could notice my trepidation. Through the rubbing, holding , touching, kissing and exploring my mind continuously focus to my groin - "Are ya' workin' yet". Ultimately it did not.
So of course in my male brain that means:
- We did not really have sex
- We did have set but it was not good or enjoyable sex
- I am not a real man
- I am an abhorrent failure and should relegate myself to a leper colony
So what does constitute "Good Sex"?
- Did Babushka and I enjoy each others bodies? - Yep.
- Did Babushka and I laugh, pant, swell and sweat? - Absolutely
- Did Babushka have an Orgasm? - Two very loud one's thank you very much
But I am a man at heart and in my mind I am a complete and utter failure. Obviously sex cannot be either good or real unless I am impaling Babushka while she is in some obscenely awkward position, grunting and groaning illegible phrases while her legs cramp up. I am a guy after all - that is how we think.
So I sit here today -licking my wounds and cursing my very existence. No matter the multiple levels of stress in my life right now, I convince myself that these are just excuses and a real man could get wood on his death bed. No matter how much Babushka reassures me. my male mind tells me I need to let her go find a real man who can truly satisfy her.
I am not confident that I am the right person for my Babushka-all the wonderful qualities I may have are irrelevant because for three hours last night I was not the proverbial 20-year old with a constant erection. Funny how measure our worth by our lowest common denominator.
Confidence - A state of balanced perceptions and preparation.
Confidence - A belief in yourself and someone else based on your quality of trusting
Get Busy Livin or Get Busy Dyin'.......and how do I spell Viagra again? :-)
Saturday, February 24, 2007
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