« What’s this ? »
I’ve been asked this question countless and countless times. Whether I’m sunbathing at the beach or posting an innocent (yet thirsty) selfie on IG, always the same curiosity for this little white patch on my belly. I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes 12 years ago. Pretty much had it my whole adult life. It’s almost like an old friend now. We have grown together. Learnt together. And sure it does bring some challenges, but my everyday life is pretty normal. Just a bit saltier – I mean, sweeter.
When I walk down the streets, nobody notices. My insulin pump stays quietly in my pocket. But when it comes down to be intimate with guys, it’s another story. I have to live 24/7 with it, which means… no hiding. Have you ever tried to feel sexy when somebody accidentally rip off your patch and blood spills on the bedsheets ? Not my favorite kink. Thankfully, no one ever rejected me for this small inconvenience. Some of my partners might be surprised or afraid to do something wrong, but most of them are full of goodwill. Then the extra fun begins.
« Vous-vous coucher avec moi ce soir ? » Hell to the yeah. I strongly believe sex is the last place where you can be fully free. Free to play, free to explore, free to test your limits, free to discover yourself, free to be yourself. Modern society can be such a pain in the ass. I prefer mine to be filled with pleasure. That’s why I’ve always been driven by curiosity and very open to try new experiences, just for the sake of trying. Telling my deepest secrets, fears, hopes and desires to a complete stranger with absolutely no clothes on was surely out of my comfort zone. But hey, that was the whole point.
Accepting yourself and living with yourself is a fight for the long run. Especially nowadays in this very competitive world where no flaws are tolerated. Fuck that. Embrace them. Cherish your perfect imperfections ’cause we’re all unique in our own special way. It sounds like a Drag Race catchphrase but as I’m slowly but surely turning 30, I try to keep in mind that I need to stay kind, to other people and to myself.
Where do I see myself in 10 years ? I don’t know. Probably far away from Paris, this wonderful yet stifling city. I came here after I graduated, had the best years of my life but I miss my South, I miss the sun, I miss the sea. I want a house with a grassy garden. I want a doggo. I want a peaceful life with my loving boyfriend. And a bag full of memories of my younger self knowing he’s been chasing adventures after adventures with absolutely no regrets.