Private Duncan

My son messaged me via SnapChat on Sunday.

It was the first time I’d seen him since he left on January 2nd for boot camp in Missouri.

He has NO IDEA how much I miss him.

The only thing that comforts me is that he really seems to be enjoying himself.

I mean sure, he complains when he has to work out in -15 degree weather.  And when he’s chosen to clean up the range (that must mean policing all the brass).

But he’s SUPER EXCITED that he’s qualified as a sharp shooter.

And he seems to like his bunk mates, all of whom have been given wild nicknames like Shrek and Measles.

So without further adieu, I present to you my son, Private Duncan:

I love this kid to pieces, let me tell you.

Now that he’s thinking of joining the Army full-time, I’m more than a little nervous that he’ll be in harms way and that I won’t see him as much as I want to.

If only our kids knew how much we worry about their futures.

But the kid is happy.

And that’s what really matters.

I miss him though.

Privacy

Yesterday my privacy was violated.

Someone logged into my Facebook account and looked at pictures that were supposed to be private.

Ones that I had filtered from the public and friends.

Not nude pics, but close to nude pics.

Tasteful I thought.

This person then got upset and offended and proceeded to tell my mother that I needed an intervention. That I was out of control.

Nudity bothers me less than the average American. In that respect, I am less mainstream and more on the fringe.

My mother then proceeded to unload on me all her imagined “sexual trespasses” that I had “committed” in her mind.

According to her, I sleep with every man I go on a date with.

This is ironic. I can point to many men I’ve dated way more than just one time who I have never slept with.

I do the best I can to share intimacies with men who I feel have the possibility of developing into something more.

In some cases, I am right – like with Luke and Jay – and I wind up in 18 month relationships.

In other cases, I am wrong – like with The Israeli – and I wind up ghosted with a face full of cum.

I rarely spend the night and I don’t have sex at my house.

These are the rules I have.

As a 43 year old woman, I don’t think I need to justify my sex life to my parents and it’s a shame that they are all up in my business about it.

It hurts that someone felt the need to spy on me, but what hurts more is knowing that my parents have a flawed and skewed image of me in their heads.

According to my mother, I am a slut.

Sigh.

That woman has never been comfortable with my sexuality.

There is no great insight I have here.

I’m rather confused and hurt about the whole experience.

And it’s ironic that all this is happening at a time in my life when I’m focused less on dating and more on friendships.

Yes, you read that right.

I’m settling down.

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