And so it begins

Change, vulnerability, and On Sex & Donuts.

Change can be hard, even for those of us who are accustomed to living boldly. And our aversion to it? That’s hard-wired thanks to reasons deeply rooted in evolution, psychology, and social mores.

Change can make us feel vulnerable, and historically, vulnerability has been the direct enemy of our species' survival. Our brains often crave the familiarity of established patterns and positive feedback from others after we live up to their expectations.

Breaking out of our comfort zone to construct change can feel risky and overwhelming, and the idea for this publication came to me at a point in my life when I was feeling particularly overwhelmed.

While I'll stop short of claiming to have a founder's mentality, I will state that I've always been one to take thoughtful risks and embrace failure. Vulnerability has long been one of my greatest assets and has paid off in spades.

But a few months ago, I felt stressed after being offered a year-long consulting gig doing something I love for a diverse portfolio of businesses under common ownership. I knew I was up to the task and that saying yes would mean being paid well to exercise my brain in new and impactful ways. But I also knew it would mean opening myself up to change at a time when my life was objectively fucking awesome and I didn’t really want to change anything. 

My long-honed and healthy daily routine might change. My relationship to Alyx might change. My sleep quality might change, and I'd be in an office a lot so my cats would miss me. 

The list of potentialities was long, and while I knew that nothing was insurmountable, I brimmed with anxiety. The bold move maker in me had been temporarily stripped of her powers by a woman who didn’t want to rock the boat.

A few of my delectable, inedible creations. :) And thank you to the man who bought me the light box and color films!

So one night, I put on my jammies and sat down at my kitchen island. With a billionth-time Seinfeld rerun streaming in the background, I dreamily rolled pastry-hued polymer clay polymer between my right thumb and forefinger.

You see, I've always had a borderline fetishistic obsession with fake food and had recently discovered that the act of sculpting miniature donuts was cathartic. It reconnected me with a path to the flow state. 

And as I rolled and shaped and drizzled away, I began to feel ten pounds lighter. I knew my brain was doing its thing: It was connecting dots behind the scenes and tabulating a path forward rooted in calm and measured intuition.

After a while, what I needed to do became clear: I needed to sign the contract. And, separately, I needed to write about what the relationships I’ve had within the context of Alyx have taught me about the power of embracing our vulnerability.

And so I did, and so I will with empathy and optimism. Within this space, I will explore the topic of emotional vulnerability as witnessed and experienced during my time as a companion. Please consider this the long overdue and utterly official first installment of On Sex & Donuts.

I’ll circle back soon.*♡

~me

* See what I did there? Donuts? They’re circular? Come for the insights, stay for the chuckles.