Mentally Infatuated

There’s so many perks to being a BBW. People don’t want talk about it much because being plus-sized has a “No-No” stigma.

Being plus-sized has its perks. (I actually stopped while writing to look in the mirror to admire, and yes I am indeed thick, plus-sized and a BBW). The best and greatest thing I can do is to live in my thick and plump truth, and share it with others because the stigma is so 2002.

Yup, the curves still here under my Forever 21 paper thin leggings, BCBGMaxazria sweater, Victoria Secrets boy shorts and Clarks leather combat boots. Oh, and today I’m wearing a bra. Not just any bra, my bad-ass Torrid caged bra that gives the vibe of me being two to three notches kinkier (which could ultimately be the case depending on who you ask).

There actually becomes a moment where looking in the mirror is an addiction, I promise. The more you do it, the more you’ll want to take a glance at that reflection. The more you stare directly into it, the more you’ll see things you’ve never noticed before. Maybe even things or parts of you that other people are always seeing, but you never really stopped to notice.

But what about the deeper, intangible parts of you unseen to the human eye? All of that, could and should be so damn attractive.

After working in a unisex shoe store for the last three months, scenarios began to play out that typically didn’t when working in a women’s only store. I began to notice men initially talking to me a lot more, then smiling with me much more…to downright hitting on me a lot more. Now I know what you’re thinking: Have you never been hit on in your life? Girl! Well yes, but this time around is truly an eye opener! Of course, there has been physical, obvious attractions inside and outside of the job. The parts of my body that I can see in the mirror. However, what happens when someone becomes attracted to something deeper than your physical appearance and you’ve only just met? They’re intrigued with your intellect, energy or tone of voice even? The way you greet them or stimulate them mentally sparks an interest? How out of the box is that and low key hot is that?

One evening when working alone, a gentleman stopped in with a magazine in hand. He had been in the doctor’s office and came across a prominent men’s boot we carry in the latest GQ, and wanted to try it on. I could tell by his disposition that he was more seasoned. Between him constantly scrolling through his phone and giving me minimal eye contact, I presumed that he was a very busy man. So I gave him just enough conversation to keep him focused on the shoe, without distracting him from whatever had him preoccupied in his phone.

“How was your day?” I politely probed.

“Good, I just finished a novel I’ve been working on.”

At this point my interest was sparked. Who isn’t interested in hearing a good novel or from an author for that matter?

Seasoned Gentleman filled me in on the book, which was mildly impressive. I told him some of the writings I venture in, including this blog. At this point the “intrigue” energy shifted from me to him, because he was now a bit curious to learn more about my writings. After jotting down the link and handing it to him, I didn’t think much. I was certain the odds were slim of ever running into him ever again.

About an hour later, he came back into the store to tell me how good my work was and I should actually keep pursing it. I was flustered. I thanked him a couple times for the feedback and innocently exchanged numbers….one writer to another right?

Wrong. So wrong.

Later that evening around 10pm, I received a text from guess who? Seasoned Gentleman inquiring about my day. Now, to be quite honest, any communication I receive after 10pm should be personal or an emergency at this stage in my life. His initial texts began in an extremely harmless manner; curious about my day which still was perplexing given the time of night. A professional connection is going to text between professional hours. Right?

My correspondence ended abruptly after he started to tell me about his bath that night. This was where I drew the line, because obviously he wants to talk about topics other than just writing.

I’m flattered this seasoned gent took a keen interest; in my writing, me and all of the in between. I’m even more flattered that he didn’t initially point out my physical attributes he found attractive when first meeting. What captivated me the most, is that his infatuation came from something more than I can see in the mirror. In spite of how inappropriate he may have come across, his infatuation stemmed from my nerdy, intellectual brain based off of my writings. I say respectfully, that when someone can see you, skin-deep and more than what you look like or what you’re wearing, is s really weighty compliment. They notice the richness and beauty of your mind, and that is a strong and enticing attraction.

Aside from physical, a mental infatuation is the strongest attraction someone can want to share with you…….When you’re not in a relationship, and they’re not in their tub. Besides those two things, mental infatuation is extremely hot.


LA ✈️ UK & Back to PA.


I’ll just come right out and say it: this celibacy journey is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life. Not only have I been abstaining from sexual intercourse, I’ve focused a lot of my energy into trying to catapult my professional career to the next level. Working 50+ hours a week combined with a “no-sex” diet equals a lot of cheesecake and emotional eating. Going to the gym is satisfying in the moment once I muster up the energy to finally get there. I won’t kid myself; I still felt the urges to express a “bad girl” factor, so the gym and clean eating seemed like a lot of “good girl” all at once. I needed to make love to cheesecake. A lot of cheesecaking has been going on right now.

Throwing myself into work hasn’t been completely horrible, definitely stressful but not horrible. I’ve taken on a multitude of projects in attempts to keep me occupied, gained new clients for my company, traveled to LA for a half vacation half business trip, and managed to meet a British Gent in between. Sometimes I don’t realize all of the things that I actually do until I visually see them in writing. In a matter of two months, I did a bucket list of things that some people spend their lifetime trying to do. This is where I insert the smallest pat on my back and remember to be grateful for all the feats I experience and overcome in such a sort time.

With all the traveling, dating and overwhelming feelings that I would’ve normally concealed in sex, I’m handling head-on in celibacy. This is no walk in the park or “hee-hee, ha ha” situation. Everyday feels like another day that my patience is running low and getting weary. I want sex. Good sex. Memorable sex. Sex that will lead to something real with someone just as real. 

I’ll know I’ve completely lost it when I start grinding my teeth down in my sleep. Chain dating hasn’t made anything easier either. I end up wondering if every guy is thee guy worthy enough to have sex with, so you can imagine how things in my mind may escalate quickly and I end up yet again, heartbroken and making out with cheesecake.

British Gent, I can’t even consider him much of a gentleman. Again not horrible, but there’s always that notion of not settling. Call me picky, but I tried to imagine settling and of course in my mind we were a great episode of “Pleasantville”. In real life, he was standoffish with little to no desire for commitment. Obviously, there were signs he displayed that I tried to overlook. He always wanted to chat via Skype but never wanted to make eye contact. I even noticed in many of his pictures, he didn’t make contact with the camera and if he did he was wearing sunglasses. Call me crazy, but I took this as a sign of someone with commitment issues. He won’t even commit to the viewfinder on the camera for goodness sakes.

The way we met was a modern day Pretty Woman scene (minus the prostitution of course): “We met while he was out of town on a business trip…”. That was the beginning of the story, however the way I scripted the end was far from the way it actually happened. Thankfully, I managed to get out of the situation without sexual intercourse. (You can sarcastically insert, “Yay you” here with a bunch of eye rolls). I’ll completely understand.

He wasn’t the only one I dated without giving away the cookies, just the only one I really wanted to attempt something serious with, and the furthest international zip code. He was like something you order off EBay or Instagram: You know there’s risk involved but you’re willing to take it anyway.