Edouard told me again what a “little woman” I am. He is right, I eventually conceded.
As strong as I appear to be, and wilful, and independent, there is this female inside that is absolutely feminine, cliché, demanding an alpha male who fills all the requirements of old times, and of new times altogether.
I am not submissive, I am just… sweet? Delighted with being always available to my man, to share his bed and his sex?
No, no way I want to take the lead, unless my partner wants me to do so. No way I want to be anything but a little woman, nice and sweet, and always available to satiate my man´s desires. I cum a lot more now, being what I am, this creature who embraces her inner traditional role of alpha female in sex, than a woman who needs to be a bulwark of women feminist empowerment at work, family and sex.
So I am genuinely interested in my partner´s mental well being, even if he is just a fuck buddy. I am quick to notice his mood, whether he is worried or happy, I ask him about his day, how he is feeling and try to be someone who makes his life better, a sage haven, or just to provide a space where he can relax and replenish his strength.
But here is the catch: does it mean that I love him? No, it means that I like him, and that when we are together I make the best of our time. Have I fallen in love before? Yes, I have, and that was not good in the end, for me, not for him, cause my little woman self never allowed me to hurt him.
Still, Edouard is right.