I stood looking at the wall of gadgets, gizmo's, tools and contraptions. Though I was wearing what I call my "magic" black five-inch heels, I was struggling to find confidence in what I was about to do.
What am I doing here? What made me think I could pull this off?
The store was quiet, thank God. I wouldn't have to deal with the embarrassment of someone wondering what I was looking for; except for the sales lady that is. She was eying me, as I lingered at this particular wall of sex toys like she might approach.
No, please, please don't.
I pleaded in my head. Almost as if she heard me, she gave her head a small nod and turned back to what she had been doing. I breathed an audible sigh of relief then gazed upon the options before me and thought about what led me here.
I had never been to an adult toy store by myself before. In fact, up until a year ago, I had never been in one at all. I had married my first husband right out of high school; both of us had limited experience with sex. We never, in our 15 years of marriage, ventured very far from a vanilla boring sex life. I often joke to myself, that they called it the missionary position because you prayed for it to be over.
I grew up in a strict religious household and always carried a sense of shame about sexuality. Reminded to always be a good girl. Which I took to mean: don't enjoy it, don't be vocal, and definitely don't act like you want it. Because of that, I had not spent any time in "sex shops," owned a vibrator or even watched porn. Those type of things went against the person I was groomed to be.
Overwhelmed, intimidated, or even panicked didn't come close to describing what I was feeling right then. I knew I had to make a decision before that sales lady decided she would accost me with questions.
I could do this; I would do this...for Theo. Ah, Theo; who had turned so many things upside down in me.
I had met Theo my second year of college; he was a friend of Carol from my psychology study group. Carol was a beautiful and extroverted blonde who sort of led our group. The girl everyone knew was going to amount to something one day. Theo had shown up at the coffee house we camped out in one evening and sat down with us. I remember being struck right away by his easy smile and self-assuredness. He was handsome, with sharp cheekbones and a strong nose. Not too tall, not too short, with broad shoulders and a slim waist. In other words, way out of my league. Plus, I was married. I decided to simply enjoy the scenery since he was easy on the eyes, but otherwise, I let it go.
It was a great night of laughing and studying; he melded right into our group. The topics discussed were all over the map, from psychological theory to dating. Once the gang saw how easy it was to make me blush and stammer, the talk turned exclusively to sex. I spent most of the evening red-faced and quiet, confused by all the emotions but secretly thrilled and turned on by the topic.
It became apparent right away that Theo was no novice when it came to sex and held none of the shame and guilt on the topic that I carried around inside. He told stories with confidence and charm. Stories that shocked me and had me torn between wanting to sink into my chair and wanting to hear every lurid detail.
Yep, way out of my league.
Eventually, the night ended. Everyone went their separate ways, and I wouldn't see Theo again until years later.
When I got home that night, I was feeling bold. I went to our bedroom and took off my clothes. I then walked naked into the living room and stood between my husband and the tv with my best "come hither" look on my face. Instead of the lustful look, I was hoping for; his eyes held contempt.
"What has gotten into you Emie? Why are you parading around naked? The blinds are open! What will people think?"
Shame overwhelmed me, my eyes filled with tears. I fled to our bedroom, got dressed and climbed into bed. Alone and humiliated. I quietly cried myself to sleep that night, while he laid next to me, oblivious to my pain.
After my ex and I called it quits I had spent a few years trying to figure out who I was and what I wanted. I tried dating, but the loneliness was always there - I couldn't shake it. I felt uncomfortable like I was trapped in my own skin. Then I finally came to the realization that I had been living a life scripted out for me by my parents long ago. It didn't fit with who I was inside.
There was so much more to me. I was ready to live, to feel fully alive. But I had no idea how.
It was during this personal epiphany that Theo and I happened to meet again.
I had stayed in touch with a few people from my college days and was invited to have a sort of reunion with the old group. Carol, the one that knew Theo, had gotten a book published and it was doing well, so it was time to celebrate.
I started thinking as I went to put on my casual going out clothes, how tired I was of the whole dating thing. How with every social outing came the pressure to meet "the one" and never feeling like I quite measured up.
Screw it! Tonight I'm just going to have fun! Be me or, rather, discover myself. No pressure to find love. Tonight I was going to start living for me and let the past go - I don't need it.
I looked into my closet with a renewed purpose. Within a couple of minutes, I was standing in front of my full-length mirror saying, "Yes, that's exactly how you want to feel inside tonight!" I put my hands on my sides and twisted my shoulders and waist a little. The light open knit black sweater clung to my breasts and gripped my curves. It gave hints of exposed flesh as well as my most expensive black bra. My black and white knee length skirt was tight enough to show that I did not have a flat ass but loose enough to hide I wasn't 20 anymore.
Though I wished I had a garter belt, thinking about the lingerie magazines I would never buy from, I managed to find a pair of black boyshort panties I never worn and some black thigh-high stockings trimmed with lace. I twisted my foot, and looked at my thighs and calves while standing in my "magic" five-inch heels.
Wow! They were magical!
I bought them for myself the first Christmas after my divorce but never had the courage to wear them out in public. I usually wore respectable 2" heels convinced I wasn't sexy enough to pull off the higher ones. Tonight I could pull off anything I wanted. I finished up with some big hoop earrings, a necklace and ankle bracelet. I fluffed my hair and applied a deep red lipstick to contrast the softer tones of my make-up.
You only live once, but tonight I was starting a brand new life and it was going to be by my rules..
With the radio turned up during the drive and me singing like a Diva, I showed up at the bar with a weight lifted off my shoulders. My attitude confident and carefree. Feeling more secure in myself than I ever had.
After saying hello to the gang and congratulating Carol, who was even more striking than she was in college, I went up to the bar to get a drink. It was already crowded and I had to wiggle my way and dodge elbows to get close enough for the bartender to notice me. Even with my "magic" heels, most would consider me short.
As I waited, I turned and looked at the guy sandwiched next to me. I knew him instantly. He still had those cheekbones and that easy smile. He was as handsome as I recalled. I saw the light of recognition enter his eyes and that easy grin filled his face.
"Emie! You look fantastic!"
He remembered me? This gorgeous man remembered me after all these years? What? Pinch me now!
