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!”