Terms and Conditions

 As promised in a previous post I said I would explain the lack of sadness about losing a friend to time and separation. The reason for this, I later learned, was due to the terms and conditions of our friendship. While I viewed him as a friend, to him I was a type of moped. This term reshaped how I viewed a lot of my 20's. For those of you that do not know, a moped is someone that is seen as not socially desirable that someone spends time with in secret. Traditionally, this is someone who is not seen as attractive but is good in bed. This term can also be extended to someone that cannot boost one's social status but they help you when asked. You still don't want to admit you know them, but you get something out of the relationship.

I was in my 30's when I realized this was the label that I fell under. I chose to live my life without regrets and that made people uncomfortable around me. Does this mean I was a moped to everyone? No. I had more true friends than people that saw me as a moped. This is probably why I took a step back in my 30's. Now in my 40's, just barely, I see my life a bit differently. My 20's were for making mistakes and trying new things. My 30's were for processing and learning the lessons from my 20's. In my 40's I am looking forward to growing from those lessons. 

I consider myself to be very fortunate. Given every mistake I made in my 20's I have come through with little more than a few bumps and bruises. I have never had an STI, never been abused, and have found myself in a position now to be a support system for others. I am reaching my goal. I just took the scenic route. 

Story Time: Friends and Enemas

 I should probably start by saying that I am not entirely sure how I became, "that person". You know who I am talking about. The person people go to with questions they are too afraid to ask their friends, but at the same time don't want to admit they know you. I had a "friend", who shall remain nameless, that sent me an email out of nowhere asking me about enemas. He wanted to know about their use and safety. Me, not realizing the downward trajectory of our friendship, was willing to look into the subject. 

Having never used one before, because I personally did not like the idea of them,  chose to ask a colleague of mine that was the nurse practitioner at the university clinic. I simply told her that a friend had asked me and I didn't have enough information. She informed me that often times enemas are used in preparation of anal sex. The overwhelming urge to say "duh" here was implied at the time. She went on to say that the body's processes of elimination generally do not need assistance like that. Unless a legitimate medical professional recommends their use because there is something not working in the system enemas can actually have detrimental effects.

Never mind the amount of time you will spend running to the toilet  waiting for the effect to stop, it is actually not a one and done type scenario for some people, the very act of repeated enemas can tell the muscles in the lower digestive tract to stop working as much. This would make it to where someone would need enemas because they used them too much. 

After emailing this information back to my "friend" we never really spoke again (the potential reason for this to be examined in another post). We have since gone our separate ways and I don't think either of us feel any lose about this fact.  It was how the universe wanted things to go. I guess the moral of this story, if it needs one, is friends come and go, but your body is here to stay. Take care of it.