I have a confession to make.

I engaged in ex-sex over the holiday break.

Yes, I did.

My ex was in town at the same party as me and I figured, “Why not?”

And so I grabbed it with my hungry little hands and ate deeply.

Do I regret it?

Not. One. Bit.

Not only did I completely enjoy myself, I took a trip down memory lane and partook of my ex’s BIG DADDY energy as thoroughly as I could.

After all, it’s not all that often I get topped in the bedroom, so the change of pace was nice.

I’d like to say that I thought about this decision LONG and HARD.

But the truth is I barely gave it a thought.

That could lead to fallout I know, but so far there’s been none.

I haven’t been heartsick with longing.

Or wishing I could go back in time and make things turn out differently.

I haven’t even THOUGHT about what we did, other than to put a big smirking grin on my face from time to time.

I’d like to credit my hormones for helping me act SPONTANEOUSLY, because I was SERIOUSLY RIPE FOR THE PICKING.

And to quote my favorite flute-playing, leotard-wearing, bad-ass-bitch Lizzo, “I’m feeling GOOD AS HELL!”