(NO! I am not talking about semen. Just because this is a Sunday night blog post, does not mean I am speaking in sexual metaphors. It hasn't been that sort of weekend.)
I have been feeling a little introspective this week, probably because I have been premenstrual and my usual level of randiness has decreased. But I've been thinking about things and they have mostly been those 'sticking' moments. You know, those moments in your life that just seem to stay with you no matter what and somehow end up forming the patchwork of who you are.
Things like the first time you looked in the mirror and realised you were a woman and not a girl anymore. You never quite remember when this happened, but you always remember it as a distinct moment in time. Or the moment you realised that other people's lives are different to yours, that we don't all have the same start in life and that you are perhaps very lucky (or unlucky). And the first time as an adult you hurt yourself or are particularly ill, and in that instant before calling your parents, partners, friends, siblings, whoever, you realise you are totally and utterly alone.
Or that first moment of wretched heartache – feeling absolutely gutted that something you wanted or needed so greatly cannot be yours. That something so potentially amazing has been denied to you.
But of course there are happier (or at least less depressing) moments than these. Lots and lots of them. For myself there was that moment when, after years of actively telling myself I was hot and amazing, I actually believed it. That all of the work that goes into building a positive sense of self actually paid off. Although, it turns out that it continues to be hard work to maintain.
Or that moment when I realised I was a sexual being and embraced it. It was a bit of a shame I didn't have someone special around to share that particular moment with. It is certainly much harder when you keep having to go out and find 'new' men to share yourself with. But hey, that's just how the cookie crumbles. And besides, I waited a really, really long time, and a girl can't wait forever.
Then there are those lessons learned, those realisations that can only be had from the input of another. Like a friend telling you that you are playing 'dating games' when really you just want is a shag (she was so right, I totally don't do that anymore – God help me when I start dating though).
Or a friend telling you that if they were a guy and they read your blog, they'd be terrified of dating you.
Or someone who hasn't seen me in years telling me that I seem to be enjoying being single, and realising that yes, yes I am.
Or that moment when you bump into a guy, who you are not necessarily interested in and you know you will never have, but they somehow completely restore your faith in men, and in love.
There are so many moments in life that seem to stick around, but perhaps my most recent was experienced as I wandered down the street on my way to the bus listening to the song I have been obsessing over for a month. As I strolled up the hill I realised that perhaps 'the lion' being referred to in the song is not actually the elusive male, it might actually be me.
And I stopped briefly in my tracks, looked up at the sky, sighed and then continued on.