From Heartbreak, Mourning, Loss. Volume One, Detach or Die
I, the frigid beauty queen
At eighteen, I won a national beauty contest. It brought me many marriage proposals. I married the guy with the money. He believed that a beauty queen like myself must automatically have a warm heart and a welcoming body.
He paid dearly for his illusion. For me, life was never about love, nor sex, but rather about survival. I am programmed to function in only one mode: problem-solving.
I have a sensual deficit. Other people around me seem to find pleasure in existing; they celebrate life, appreciate friends, fun, food; they have pleasure doing things with their loved ones.
The only way I can relate to anyone is to solve his or her problems. I need to be needed. I was sexually frigid with all my lovers, and also with the three men I married. The third husband is divorcing me for that same reason.
I am supposedly good looking, sexually technically functional, but I don’t feel much and I guess they feel I can’t feel!
