All About Getting ‘Stuck’ In The F*ckzone
Some people would say I’m unlucky in love. Others would argue that I’ve just got to kiss a few frogs before I find my prince charming. I would debate both of these sides and simply state I’ve allowed myself to become stuck in the fuckzone, and I don’t see any way out.
You can lie to yourself and claim to be one of those superwomen who “don’t get attached” because “it’s just sex”, but let’s face it… we’re emotionally vulnerable females who expect a lot more from males than they are willing to give.
I’m not saying it’s impossible to have casual sex, but from my experience it’s pretty damn hard not to start to fall at least for the idea of that guy after a few times. I respect those women that are able to emotionally detach themselves from their sexual partners, or turn that lust into love.
I guess I’m naive, but I always hope for at least a text or a friend request the next day when I’ve given someone access to my sacred haven. That’s the problem with sleeping with guys without knowing them as people, they want you for one reason only and you are left utterly disappointed.
It all starts when you have your first one night stand. For me, it was post a long haul of an “almost” relationship where (I can finally admit now) I fell in love for the first time. You can guess how that turned out, and I was left feeling vulnerable and looking for comfort in the arms of others. I didn’t go into that night expecting to find anyone, but alcohol has always been a liquid stimulant of some form of crazy sexual desire within me. I ended up having drunken sex with a person I hardly knew, realising ashamedly what I had done, and going home in tears.
That night flicked some sort of switch in my brain. I didn’t want anything more from that person (which I might add I never got anyway) and I continued to explore the world of casual sex. Of course I was never confident enough to be this way sober, but with a bit of alcohol in my system I was unstoppable. I began to find it easy to attain the men I wanted, going barely a night out without hooking up with a drunken stranger. It was comforting, for a while, to have this power over men. I felt dominant, and enjoyed the rush of fucking someone simply for the pleasure of one night.
But that was the problem. As it became easy for me, I began to gain a reputation of being easy. And just like that – I had smack bang landed myself straight into the fuckzone. Now that I have emerged out the other side of my casual sex rendezvous, I am struggling to attain any male attention that is anything more than just drunken fucking. I suppose you could call it karma, for using and abusing those men during my rampage. But that’s all they expected from me too, right? Sexual double standards, that’s what it is. Guys are respected for climbing the ladder in the number of sexual partners. We girls, on the other hand, are downgraded as cheap sluts the more people we sleep with. Unfair, but that’s life.
So here I am, two years later, still stuck in the fuckzone with no way out. I’m still not over my almost relationship and still developing feelings for people who only see me as a vagina. I’m struggling to shake the slut label I attained and feeling all around pretty miserable about my “romantic” endeavors. Recently, I’ve 1) Held out on sex for a considerable time, only to develop feelings for a guy who went back to his ex after he’d gotten what he wanted, 2) Fucked a guy who’d pursued me for a while and then never spoke to me again 3) Allowed myself to be the booty called girl that has never had a real conversation with that person and 4) Fucked my ex boyfriend who is involved with many other girls. Looking at that, I don’t do myself any favors. But each time I go into these experiences hoping that I can turn sex into a relationship. You’d think by now I would have learnt that doesn’t work, but that’s what the fuckzone does. It tricks you into thinking that men want more from you than sex, that it’s all a part of the budding relationship. FYI ladies, sex does not help you get to know someone.
So to all those women out there like me, just know you aren’t alone. The fuckzone is real, and hopefully we’ll all make it out alive… one day.