SinS: I want you. Until you want me.

I’ve been strangely quiet on this topic thus far. As someone who went through the awkward years surrounded by guys, my mind naturally gravitates towards the gutter. Sex was rarely an off-limits topic in our group, varying between hilarious and too much sharing. But as of late, my mind has been elsewhere, busy finalizing the details of my migration back to K-Dub, and working hard to find a paying job of some sort to support my lavish lifestyle.

Over the course of this job hunt, I have secured several awesome teaching contracts (mosey on over here to check out my growing schedule) and have run into a few interesting opportunities. One of them came in the form of a full-time personal training position at a popular franchise of small gyms. The job sounds great - the gyms are small, owner seems to really understand the business, the client base is pretty solid, etc. Like any normal person, as I started talking more seriously with the owner about the position, the race began to find myself as many teaching contracts and independent clients I could so I could make budget and not have to take the job. Perfectly illogical, n’est pas? But see, just the thought of taking this job makes my insides wring out - something just doesn’t sit right.

In discussing this job offer with my Dad (hell-bent on sticking me into a “real job”), he comments that he has yet to hear a decent reason for me not to take this position, simply a fear of commitment. Oh, if only he knew. But this is where the rationalization begins - what he sees as a fear of commitment, I see as a refusal to settle when I know or think I can keep pushing further. Life’s too short for bad jobs, bad coffee, and bad hugs. So why would I lock myself into a job that gives me the squeaks, when I think I can find something else?

What does this have to do with Sexless in September?

This doesn’t happen just with jobs. I’m like this with everything, particularly relationships to an extent. I want you, until you want me. Then I question your sanity and want to run. Now, I haven’t taken much time to decipher whether this is a fear of commitment, a love of the challenge, or just a byproduct of a wacky childhood (because when in doubt, blame the parents). It does make me wonder, though, to what end? When does the running, searching, interviewing, and exploring stop? When will it feel safe to settle into something - will it ever?

I spent a significant chunk of my life working hard to stay unattached, because as soon as I got comfortable it was inevitable that something or someone was going to swoop in and snatch the floor out from under me. So I’ve become accustomed to this quasi-gypsy lifestyle, going with the flow careful to stay as on my toes as possible, just in case.

I’m not sure there’s a right answer to this - to settle or not to settle, to take the job or keep looking. It all comes down to making a choice you’re ok with and can sleep on. Some of us will be Charlotte’s - constantly looking for the perfect husband ready to settle down at the drop of a hat (or salad fork), and some of us will be Samantha’s - determined to try it all, see it all, and experience it all.

Where do you lie on this scale? Are you happy with it, and how do you strike a balance between getting comfortable and staying stimulated by life?