(About a 4 minute read)
“Somehow, as adults, we think we have to be perfect at everything that we do. So instead of trying something new, we don’t because we don’t want to make a fool of ourselves.” — Jennifer Koshak
My mother had a genuine conservative streak in her. By “genuine”, I mean she sought all her life to save the best of what she found in life, to conserve the things of great value to her.
Along with her conservative streak, however, she loved to try new things. New foods, especially — at least, so long as they were not spicy hot.
Mom had about as much tolerance for spicy hot food as the average father has for his daughter’s telling purchase of crotchless panties just a week before prom night — which also happens to be the day after that terrifying gallon vat of KY vaginal lubricant arrived in the mail for her, along with the 288-count “platoon size package” of flavored condoms.
“No. No, Daddy! Barb, Delilah, Steph and I are having a cherry-flavored water balloon fight! That’s all!”
But as mom grew older, her capacity to enjoy new things seemed to wither. To give her credit, she was still giving new things a go into her early 90s, but she was less and less often able to take pleasure in them. What had happened to her?
I honestly don’t know. I do think, however, that mom was something of a rare bird in terms of her life-long embrace of new things and experiences. I have learned over the years that most of us are pretty much “stay-at-home” folks. We don’t much care for the new.
Which is ok, of course — so long as that’s how we like it. I’m a staunch advocate of folks being true to themselves, and in their changing themselves only if and when they really want to. So if someone wants to live their life never much trying anything new, I figure that’s their business.
On the other hand, what if someone is like our teenage girl above? That is, a virgin and not only a virgin, but terminally prejudiced against her virginity, and absolutely more determined to end it than a newly-ordained fundamentalist preacher is determined to ignore the utter absurdity of his preaching creationism while wearing a second-hand chicken outfit to mask his all-too-human shyness.
In that case, someone might be wondering how they can overcome their fear of new things and experiences.
Well, I myself have found that perhaps the best way to overcome your fear of the new is to spend at least a month frequenting quality erotic dance clubs.
By the end of that period, your fear of the new is almost certain to be replaced by the much greater and more reasonable fear of waking up one morning with a massive hang-over and a g-string permanently stuck in your teeth.
You will then be forced to arrange for your dentist to safely extract it, using a mini-jackhammer specifically designed to solve that all-too-common problem. In short, once you get your dentist’s bill, you will simply never be as shocked again in your life — hence, your fear of the new will absolutely pale in comparison.
Of course, I don’t actually expect everyone of my readers to try that method, even if it is the very best method. After all, some people are simply embarrassed to be seen hanging out with notable social outcasts — such as dentists. So, here then is Plan B:
Try to approach the new like a child would.
Children are fearless because they are so focused on having fun that they don’t even naturally question whether something will be fun. Until proven differently, they simply assume every new experience in life will be fun — even the experience of jamming a g-string in their uncle’s teeth while he’s asleep.
Staying childlike can be a chore for an adult, though. But if you can pull it off by approaching new things primarily in the spirit of having fun, then chances are good
that g-string can be easily extracted after a brief period of hell on earth as he jackhammers it loose you will indeed have fun.
Of key importance here: Actively look for fun. When you find yourself in a new situation, don’t merely sit back and think pleasant thoughts about being open-minded to fun. Actively seek it out, tackle it, and wrestle it into submission — then generously lubricate it before fucking it — either wearing your new crotchless panties, or wearing one of the 288 condoms you no doubt ordered the moment I mentioned the things can double as water balloons.
You can find out more — much more — about staying childlike by reading my blog post on the subject, which you can find here.
Questions? Comments? Invites to a water balloon fight? Even funner invites to help you put on your crotchless panties without getting your leg through the wrong hole this time?