Well, this is embarrassing.
I was woken up Sunday morning by a slew of dirty messages and dick pics from various different numbers.
I picked the tamest “How’s it going” text and responded to the sender, asking where he had gotten my number from.
OkCupid, he responds.
What the heck, I text back. That’s not me. Can you send me screenshots?
At this point I’m so grateful that this dude is engaging with me in a non-sleazy way. He seems genuinely sorry for me, and sends me two screenshots of the profile’s pictures – yup, there’s me in a bikini, and me holding up a tech certificate in my classroom. Both of these pictures could probably only be procured from my Instagram.
So I post a scathing message on my Instagram:
Rich asked me what the point of the post was – I’m not sure. Some combination of – I was hoping the culprit would see it, I just wanted to get my anger out and say the word asshole a bunch of times, and I needed some kind of emotional support because Rich was being extremely nonchalant about it all.
But I shoved it all aside and took a Xanax because I had to attend the Dreaded Brunch with Rich’s recently reconciled parents, and I’m expected to be the chirpy one who keeps conversations going. I hope my husband realizes what a team player I was because I was about to have a nervous breakdown.
Then. This morning. I wake up to a text from my chivalrous helper.
It says: I hope it is not you, but I thought you should know, there is also a nude photo on the profile.
What. The. Fuck.
He sends it over, and YUP. IT’S ME.
My heart dropped so fast. Thank goodness I never have my face in any of these more provocative pictures, thank you past self. It’s also a fairly old photo, at least 3 – 4 years ago, taken in my parents’ bathroom when I was visiting them. I honestly can’t remember who I would have sent it to because 1. I was on such a cocktail of medications that my memory is so hazy, and 2. I’m kind of a ho.
Strangely, after receiving the much more awful news of the nude picture, I felt more resilient than before. Braver because of my defiance.
Who the fuck does this salty little ghost of flings past think he is, that he can hurt me? I will Not let this little fucker shame me with my own body.
So what if I’m naked? Who the fuck does this dude think he is to try to shame me? Yes I could deny that the headless nude was me, but why should I? I’m allowed to take sexytime pictures. Clearly I’ve been a little too trusting with the recipients of said pictures, but whatever. I should not be ashamed, roar!
Okay so as the day has gone on, I’ve obviously dipped a little emotionally from my morning bravado. My shoulders are kind of in a permanent sigh, and my friends think they are helping by combing through the idiots I’ve been involved with in the past 4 years – there are 4 at my best count but none of them particularly bitter. I also don’t know if I trust my memory because the more I try to look back, the more I realize how clouded up my mind was from the meds.
I emailed okCupid. No word yet, but I’m hoping they’ll get back to me soon. Rich thinks that I could probably get an IP address and go after the fucker. But, he cautioned, that might entail drawing more attention to this incident. Your choice.
I responded (with the momentum of my morning defiance) that I would burn the fucker, I don’t care about drawing this out.
But now. I kind of would like this episode to just fade from memory quickly. Let me just go back to the regular anxieties of life.