Why Are People Calling Me Sexy?

I’m writing my first blog post from my brand new couch in my very own apartment!

I’ve been here 12 days and it’s starting to feel like home. Unpacking has been taking forever, as it always does, and I wouldn’t even consider myself a packrat. I have spent a disgusting amount of money at Target in pursuit of the perfect organization system in my new digs.

The past week has had me pondering a new word in my vocabulary: 

SEXY

I started hearing this new word from men this year and it shocks me every time. I’m not saying I’m ugly; I think I’m a decent enough looking woman. I do exercise but you can tell that I’m far from a gym rat. I eat healthy but I’ve never met a Jersey bagel I didn’t like and yes, I would like more wine, thank you. I wear makeup and am girly, but I have definitely been in seen in public in sweats and my brother’s college baseball cap. Bottom line is that I do have confidence in myself as a person, which I think is at the core of being sexy. But, I’ve been all but sexually comatose since 2006 up until very recently. I really stunted my sexual growth, which has really hurt my confidence in myself as a sexual being. So hearing such a startling compliment this year has been deliciously surprising, confusing, but also flattering.

After years of being unscrewable (if you were to believe my husband), there’s a whole new vibe in the air around me. But how? and why?!

Hearing Sexy and Trying to Understand It

Back in January when I was dating Todd, he told me I was sexy several times. He did it in such a classy way, as if he were stating an obvious and undeniable fact.

My reaction: OK, he’s a 36-year-old man, he’s got the confidence to use such a bold adjective.

Then I was hooking up with the 26 Year Old off and on since February. (By the way, I hadn’t heard from him since July then he texted me last weekend to say hello! OK…) We were definitely not dating, just using each other. He told me I was sexy all the time – over text, while naked, while dressed, you name it. Or, as a 26-year-old would text it, “Sexxxaaaaaay.”

My reaction: OK, he’s younger, he is turned on by being with a slightly older woman. I’m probably more confident than say, a 24-year-old. And he’s totally a boob man and I got boobs.

Then I started playing with dating through OKCupid.

David, who I went out with a few times and smooched a little, loved to tell me what a great body I had and that I was sexy (though not with the confidence that Todd had). I was like, "yeah um OK" and proceeded to turn bright red. Once I started dating Jason, I told David thanks but no thanks to dating. Well, last Sunday afternoon, David texted me; it had been two weeks since I told him I wasn’t interested in him. He asked if I'd moved and how I was doing. Harmless, right?

Check out this convo, and yes, please laugh at how dense I am:

My reaction: OK, he must want to meet for coffee because that is a casual encounter. How brave of him to ask!

I read this to several people, including my 65-year-old mother, who all knew exactly what David meant. In fact Mom was howling with laughter at my saying I was "truly flattered" by this pathetically awkward attempt to bed me. 

David and I only kissed a few times and he didn’t know why I got divorced. Why on earth did he think I’d want a “casual encounter” with him?! Aside from showing how dumb I can be about a guy’s sexual advances, this weird convo furthers this idea of some vibe I’m putting out there, that I've got some sex appeal. Interesting.

Then there’s Jason. Ahhh, Jason. He’s so sweet, he thinks I’m wonderful, and as he puts it, “Kat, you’re so sexy I can’t stand it! Like it makes me mad!” Now, Jason saying I’m sexy does make sense because we do in fact have absolutely amazing sex. I’ve been getting truly reawakened and learning about myself as a sexual being with him. So, yes, he would, could, and SHOULD think I’m sexy.

One last example actually prompted this entry. Yesterday morning after my 10 mile run, my face was tomato red, my hair was frizzing everywhere, and my black shirt was covered in wipes of snot and salt. I was walking back to my apartment while tweeting about my hickie [WTF, thanks Jason!], some dude walking by me goes, “Sexy!” I look up all confused and say, “huh?” He says, “THAT sexy! Damn, you married?” I replied, “Thank you, and yes.”

My reaction: Wow, no one, and I mean no one, told me I was sexy the entire time I was with Max. 

Now, just in the months since I filed for divorce and then ended my marriage, I’ve gotten this compliment more times than I had in my entire life.

I'm Sexy and I'm (trying to) Know it

So why am I sharing this recent barrage of "sexy" comments with you? Because this is an important step in my post-Max dating and sex life. After overcoming terrible self-image in my late teens to mid 20s, I came to accept my appearance. For example, I will never have toned arms, but I like my small waist and strong legs. What I completely skipped over was believing that I’m sexy, which is a whole other level of self acceptance and self love.

Before Max, I had plenty of one-night stands. We all know how those go – super fun and hot in the moment followed by the day-after hangover of regret and ick. It doesn’t take a sexy girl to have a one-night stand. Judging from some of the dudes I slept with, pretty much anyone can have one if he or she wants to. I think those trysts were my misguided attempts to feel sexy.

While I was with Max, I usually felt pretty, but rarely – and eventually never – desired. The notion of being sexy completely eluded me.

Now, I’m truly, completely single. I haven’t seen or spoken to Max in 10 days. I’m back to being on my own, getting rid of bugs and putting stuff on high shelves. Yesterday I ran 10 miles, the longest I’ve ever run as I prepare for my first half marathon. I’m having honest, hot sex with Jason, and I’m loving being on top. I'm in a good, solid place in my life (especially considering the heartbroken wreck I was a year ago). 

So you know what? These random men are right. I AM SEXY. While I don’t entirely know why I am, I must be. The next step of my post-divorce healing is owning, accepting, and never questioning my sexiness again.

Did you have trouble regaining sexual confidence after your breakup?