In a February entry, I talked about how I had been reconnecting with an ex-boyfriend. I expressed how I only wanted to be friends, but suspected he might’ve wanted to be more than friends again after he kept asking me to go out with him and even sent me flowers on Valentines Day as a friendly inside joke, supposedly. I made it clear to him that I’m interested in any romantic relationships right now and he seemed to respect that. We stopped talking again for a few weeks, but he recently reached out to me again and we’ve been spending more time together as friends.

While I’m still not interested in any relationships now, I quite enjoy his companionship. He’s as pleasant as he’s always been and I kind of wish we kept in touch after we separated. Even our breakup was done on good terms. We’ve been reminiscing about memories we share for the nearly four years we were together, which was fun. A recent conversation about piercings I had on this site made me remind him of the time he talked me into repiercing my navel but I foolishly ended up doing it myself. He was delighted to see I still have the piercing and wasn’t just wearing it for him. That actually got a laugh out of me and I rarely laugh out loud.

As happy as I am spending time with him, I’m also a bit worried about sending him mixed signals. There is really no romantic or sexual attraction towards him whatsoever. It was the main reason why our relationship ended: we just weren’t interested anymore. He doesn’t seem interested in getting back together with me in any romantic sense. He hasn’t given me any reason to suspect he might be since sending me the Valentines Day flowers, which, in retrospect, really did seem to be just a joke on his part. I like to think I know him well enough to know if he has any intentions and his demeanor while we’re together seems to be that of platonic companionship and nothing more.

Still, I don’t want to give any impressions that I might want to get back together nor do I want him ultimately wanting that himself. We’re obviously compatible as friends but even if we were both interested in renewing our relationship, that will only jeopardize the good thing we have going now. I’d hate to have to explain this to him by shooting him down and risk souring our friendship. Maybe I won’t have to and he won’t ever want to get back together. I probably shouldn’t even worry right now. Cross that bridge if and when we come to it, as they say. We’ll just see what happens. In the meantime, I’m actually happy with someone who I’m not even dating.

I don't know why I kept forgetting to post this. Maybe because my last therapy session, while not bad, wasn't entirely productive either. My therapist and I largely spent it talking about this month being sexual assault awareness month. I talked about how I've been helping other survivors online, which my therapist was impressed with and we just got chatting about that. Before I knew it, time was up. Maybe it was a good thing opening up about how I help other survivors. It certainly felt good talking about it. Perhaps it wasn't so unproductive after all. But next time, I should shift the focus back on myself and my trauma.

Last week when I made that entry about considering a survivor tattoo, it's had me reflecting on the current body art I do have. My first tattoo was an armband with a heart design on my upper right arm. My second was a rose thorn design on my lower back that wraps around my waist, stopping at my hipbones. Both were tattoos I got simply because I thought they looked good. People have asked me what the story is behind them, but there really isn't much of a story to tell for either. The lower back one I made go around my waist instead of just on my lower back in an attempt to avoid the tramp stamp cliché, but that's about it.

Them having no real significance behind them has made me reflect on why that may be. Some of those who have asked about my tattoos have expressed surprise that there's no real meaning behind them because they seemed to be under the impression that every tattoo had meaningful story behind them. Of course, a tattoo isn't supposed to have some deep meaning behind them, but what makes me wonder is if me getting permanently inked for superficial reasons might have something to do with my experiences. What if it correlates with my personality?

I've talked about my personality before, but I'll go over it again. I'm a rather deadpan individual. I don't show a whole lot of emotion, positive or negative, and come off as a serious no-nonsense person. I know because my friends have told me that was their first impressions of me. But I am highly sociable and friendly most of the time. Still, I sometimes wonder how I do have friends since I always seem so serious. Given this, some have expressed surprise at me even having tattoos because, according to them, I don't seem like the kind of person who would get them.

Anyway, what I'm getting at is I'm not a very lively person and perhaps that's the reason I got tattoos for not so lively reasons. The reason I am the way I am could be because of my past traumatic experiences being molested for 20 years. I'm pretty certain that's played a major part in shaping my personality. I guess it's not too unlike how dead and lifeless I felt when it was happening through my teen years. Maybe I'm just now considering getting a tattoo that's about me being a survivor of sexual abuse because it took me confronting that past to get something that actually has a deep meaning to it.

Once again, I'm going on about something that doesn't really matter in the long run. But these are the musings I've been having lately. I feel like I'm long overdue for a truly meaningful tattoo. I may very well get even more after this one, depending on how I feel about it once I finally get it. Maybe from now on, I'll make sure there's a story to tell. I'd still be getting them for myself, of course. But I feel I'll be doing myself justice by finally getting tattoos that have some real significance to them.

So I discussed with my therapist on how the memories of when I was 15 are getting to me again. Went and told her things that happened I haven’t told anyone else, things only me and my dad knew. She never seizes to amaze at how well she’s able to process all the grisly details I tell her. Maybe that shouldn’t come as a surprise considering she’s likely heard worse. Been through worse too. She was able to relate to a point with some disgusting things her molester would do to her. Really puts things into perspective… But her overall point with telling me that was that once she found someone she could open up to, it quickly became easier for her to talk about. I suppose that much is true for me now. It does feel easier for me to talk about now that I finally got it out. It’s astonishing how simply talking it out can make one feel so much better. Maybe I will vent about those instances here. I probably won’t get terribly detailed just because it’s probably too much even for this place. But I think I can work on finding that middle ground I mentioned in my last entry now.

On my recent entries, I had talked about how the shame of the early years of being molested by my dad were haunting me. But after some consultation with my therapist, those series of painful memories has eased up quite a bit. However, now memories of when my dad would molest me on a daily basis at age 15 are starting to get to me more. Though whereas the earlier memories bothered me from the shame I felt for willingly partaking in it, these later ones are getting to me just because it was the darkest time of my life.

I kind of want to write about them to vent, but I actually have my reserves about going into graphic detail about everything my dad did to me when I was 15. Some of the things I just shouldn’t disclose here. I know the graphic details don’t really matter anyway, but again, it would just be a way of me opening up. But I do have therapy today, so maybe I’ll just talk with my therapist about it. There are some things about that time at age 15 I still haven’t even told her yet…

Maybe afterward, I’ll have found a middle ground to vent these memories without getting too graphic but also telling the full scope of what happened so it’s still therapeutic for me.