Nakedness is truthfulness.
When I write I write rawness. I’ve gotten used to being exposed. I’m used to standing naked on the internet. It’s part of my job.
But I’ve made a horrible assumption: I’ve assumed that the men in my life would be equally comfortable standing naked next to me on this blog.
But they’re not.
Exposure can kill relationships faster, so much faster than privacy. Men that are wooing me always want to know what I’ve written. Now I hesitate to give them my blog address because they’ll read everything about me; they’ll read about Marc and Jean-Baptiste and Luciano and Pup; and then they disappear.
I guess the world’s not ready for my nakedness.
I don’t want to expose my loves or my lovers. I’m dating a new man of whom I’ve referenced on my blog. But my exposure now threatens his exposure.
And I’m sorry readers, this one is too precious to share with you.