What’s wrong with me. I just love this.
What a weekend!
This is a personal weblog. The opinions expressed here represent my own and not those of my employer. My opinions are subject to change. I reserve the right to argue with myself later on down the line when I've learned a lesson or two.
What’s wrong with me. I just love this.
What a weekend!
Anonymous said: Do you ever feel like your life is a series of wrong decisions?
My brain doesn’t allow for that option.
Anonymous said: I feel somewhat silly asking this, but I'm a 21 year old girl with limited sexual experiences. I had one boyfriend that I had sex with very often, but in the two years since we broke up, I've only had sex twice. I feel like I don't really have an opportunity to express my sexuality often and was wondering if you had any advice on getting the guts to put myself out there and explore a little more.
Take a pole dancing class for a few weeks. And try hot yoga. Watch any Ciara music video, in particular “Ride” and “Love Sex Magic”.
The opportunity to express sexuality, the opportunity itself, comes when you’re exuding the vibe. And I’ve found the best way to drum up that vibe is not to look for it with other people, but to look for it within yourself. Buy yourself some lingerie. Wear it under your regular clothes. Try red lipstick. Cook yourself an elaborate meal while listening to Ciara, wearing lingerie and red lipstick. I’m basically telling you what I do in my free time.
And don’t rush it. Enjoy the foreplay of figuring out how to express yourself. It’s a slow burn, and your prime is ten years away, so have a little fun figuring it out. And if I remember correctly, 22 and 23 were some really good years for that. And then better every year after that.
Anonymous said: How do you deal with someone trying to encroach upon your personal space ?
Duck and lean. Action movie roll out of the scene.
But how I’ve dealt with situations like this at school and work is I create an actual obstacle - my purse, a stack of papers, a chair, I put that thing between me and the villain. Personal space is a big thing for me, and my listening comprehension goes out the window when people get into it. I can’t think of anything other than getting my three feet back.
Or you can do what I actually do, which is visibly recoil so obviously that everyone around you notices you will fall backward onto the table to avoid having someone be within a foot of your face.
Also, don’t forget you can say something. And if you’re worried about making someone uncomfortable, throw on the good ole “charming rom-com clutz” trope and giggle and say, “agh sorry, I’m so weird about personal space - need a three foot radius, haha!” And then shoot them with finger guns and blush. Then go dead pan and say, “but for real. Three feet.” For a couple weeks they’ll probably make a big deal out of embarrassing you for it, but they won’t get in your space.
I know. I have done this.
You can’t worry too much about making someone comfortable who is making you uncomfortable. Get weird to get what you need.
Anonymous said: What are your plans with datebynumbers when the book comes out?
Change the Tumblr handle to Kelton Wright and just talk to you about cycling, adventure, and rudimentary acrylic painting?
Truth is, I don’t know. And I think that’s great.
What would you like to see happen?
womendowork said: Can I ask about the book? I'm eager to read it! :)
Working on the cover this week!
God willing, it’ll be done by the end of September?
caveinimicum013 said: Just wanted to let you know that I check your blog pretty much daily for any updates, and I'm always quietly cheering you on from my side of the world (the very exciting New Jersey). I hope everything with the book is going smoothly. Also, I don't know much about professional bicycling, but you, and your progression, and Rapha are pretty badass.
Thanks, love! Feeling especially badass today after riding away from a wreck.
But honestly, could have done without landing on my face.
Anonymous said: I've been with my boyfriend for over a year, which for me is huge. Today I walked into work and was told all these things about his past. When I texted him about it, he broke up with me. I don't know what to do with myself. My mind is racing. It feels like someone pulled the rug I was standing on out from underneath me and I'm left down all alone with no idea where to go. I know it happened before me, but how do you look at someone the same when you realize they weren't exactly who you thought
People are not obligated to live up to the image you project on them.
It’s so hard for me to answer this without getting angry, because someone once judged me for truths I never hid, and shamed me for being a person who made mistakes and learned from them. They made me feel like I should regret the experiences that made me who I am. Like I should apologize for my life. And I’m angry about it, because I did.
There’s so much you’re not saying in this question, and it’s hard to answer because of that. If he hid things from you that you had a right to know, I get it. But if some gossip told you things about him that you should have had an open conversation with him about, then I would suggest that you stop feeling this so entirely from your side and start to wonder how he feels.
You weren’t the only one who had the rug pulled out from under them that day.
Anonymous said: I think it's funny that we hold on to stupid thoughts like "oh, but he didn't want me because he was afraid" or "because he wasn't prepared" when it's all bullshit. When people really love you it doesnt matter how ready they are at the moment or how afraid they are, they just be with who they love no matter what or how. I feel very very stupid for always thinking about excuses to continue to be in love with him, I make the excuses for him and I know it all and I can't stop :( How can I stop?
I disagree, because I have been afraid, and I have been focused on my career, and I have been unprepared. But these aren’t excuses - they’re reasons.
I always wanted to believe that if you were The One to someone, nothing would stop them from being with you - but that’s just blatantly untrue, and a false cushion to rest a broken heart on. You can love someone to the sun and back and have it just not be the right time. But that’s not an excuse to keep loving them, it’s a reason to leave.
When we hold onto, “he wasn’t ready,” it isn’t stupid, it’s self-preservation. You need to take care of yourself. You don’t need to brutalize yourself by becoming some love martyr. All you need to do is change, “he wasn’t ready, so I’ll love him ‘til he is,” to “he wasn’t ready, so I’ll find someone who is.”
Sometimes the things that feel the most complicated are the simplest.
Anonymous said: Is there a way I can rid myself of insecurities regarding physical appearance for once and all ? In my case it mostly pertains to the fact that I wear glasses.
I was always most insecure about my legs. Cellulite, knees that look like ground beef, thighs plush together with my feet a foot apart - I think I went ten straight years without wearing short shorts. And no amount of “accept yourself!” worked for me. Like, yeah, I love myself, that’s not the problem. The problem is that my knees look like an old man’s neck.
I don’t think you rid yourself of insecurities. It’s like moving into a new place and there being a hook in the middle of the wall. You could remove the hook, plaster over the hole. You could hang something from it. You could add a bunch of hooks and hang ornaments from them and make it an art installation. You could line hooks up across the whole wall and string lights across. But if you just leave the solitary hook, your only option is to deal with it.
The only way I was able to move past the things I saw wrong with my legs was to give myself a reason to love them. I added hooks, added lights, added flare, and fell in love with my legs. I still see that weird rogue hook, but when I look at it now, all I see is strength. So get cool contacts, funky glasses, save up for Lasik, hairstyles that accent your face, cool eye makeup, fake lashes!, whatever.
Look, you’ve got crappy eyes. I’ve got crappy knees. We don’t get rid of them. We just add some sweet ‘til we can’t taste the bitter.