Moooooooving On

Do you remember your first kiss?

I was 19 years old and living away from home for the first time at a university residence. I had returned to my accommodation with a group of fine, responsible adults after an eventful night of socials at The Barracuda (also known as THE CUDA - ‘nuff said).

It was a late autumn night and a few friends stayed to chat incoherently in my flat. Many dorm rooms were blasting different varieties of music while a dorm mate down the hall was puking his guts out. Ah, FRIDAYS.

A young lad was brave enough to remain in my room after the others left. It was the moment I was reorganizing my plush animals when he decided to make his move. He slowly and gently pressed against my lips as I clenched to my cow.

Freaking out inside.

When I thought the kiss was finished, he rammed his tongue into my mouth.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!?!?” I thought as I dropped my cow.

All those years watching make-out scenes on The Young and the Restless never prepared me for this!!!

Without getting into too much detail on our dialogue (definitely not soap-opera worthy), KISS-a-palooza was short and did not end with a bang. For him.

I asked TG (which stands for “Tongue Guy”) to leave my room. He complied, and I went to help clean up the puke in the hallway. Ah, Fridays.

No need to worry - my cow eventually recovered from the event. Poor, poor cow…

Before that eventful night, I was blind to the range of questions I would experience within 5 microseconds of a first kiss:

• Is THIS the guy I want to have my first kiss with?

• Is a tongue supposed to feel this way?

• How do I know if I’m doing this right?

• Why am I so nervous?

• Did I remember to brush my teeth?

I could have been turned off from kisses altogether thanks to TG. I “CUDA” gave up on ever having a decent kissing experience (get it - CUDA? Barracuda? Sorry, I couldn’t resist). Yet I remained confident that the right kissing companion would one day stumble over the dorm puke in my direction.

On the flip side, I could have traumatized TG to a point where he would never kiss another girl again. But I do remember his tongue making an appearance just a week later. With another dorm mate. At THE CUDA. He didn’t give up on his dream. I am happy that we both moved on from the experience.

When I started on this writing journey, I didn’t think about where I would submit articles, personal essays, poems and such. I loved hearing about other writers getting their works published, yet I didn’t know how and when it would be my time.

In late December, I heard about a publication seeking nonfiction personal essays related women's reproductive health. Let's see…. Self-identifying female - check. Reproductive… for now - check. A true story that affected reproductive organs - check! I was already writing about my fibroids story so I thought it was the perfect fit.

This would be my first time writing a personal essay for possible publication. And I had many similar questions:

• Is THIS the first publication I want to be published in?

• Is editing supposed to be this painful?

• How do I know if I’m doing this right?

• Why am I so nervous?

• Did I remember to brush my teeth?

I didn’t realize how much thought was involved in making the first move. This publication is not coming for me. My first shot at being published had to be amazing. I had to lean in for the first kiss. I became TONGUE GUY. I rammed my essay through the submission site. On a Friday.

Unlike my real first kiss, I waited three months for reciprocation.

There was no happy ending. This week, the publication turned me down & told me to leave the dorm room. I hope I didn’t traumatize their cow.

I was confused and left with more questions:

• Should I be more upset about my first writing rejection? Will I have a meltdown in a few days? (Stay tuned…?) Or have I already accepted the fact that I am a complete and utter failure and no publication will accept me?

• Am I good enough to be published?

• Does this rejection label me as a bad kisser? Will I forever be known as the “Writing” TONGUE GUY?

• Is this what it means to be a writer? Because I’ve only put out twice and my tongue is already tired.

• And whatever happened to my plush cow?

I know that rejection is a part of the writing experience… blah, blah, blah. It still sucks. I will probably make time this weekend to cry it out.

My journey doesn’t end yet.

I have worked hard on facing fears, popping bubbles and riding dragons. I will not allow fearful thoughts to drag me down over my first rejection.

So, I keep writing.

What’s next for Writing Tongue Guy… I mean, my writing aspirations?

✅ I will continue to brush my teeth and keep a look out for other publications. I believe in this essay and I know the right one is out there somewhere. Yet, I’m a one-tongue kind of woman. It feels weird to bare all and make out with so many places at once, especially the ones where I have to pay!

✅ I didn’t receive any feedback with this first rejection, which is a blessing and a curse. I want to keep all rejection letters and any feedback provided. I hope to find a pattern as to what publications fit with my content and writing style.

✅ I am still learning as I go. I will try my best not to take any of these rejections personally. I am not the only “writer” in the infiniverse. There are oodles of Writing Tongue Guys out there all waiting for an opportunity to be published.

Not every part of the creative journey will have positive moments. There will be much more puke to clean up and horny university students to deal with along the way. The bumps on the path will seem smaller after each first-time experience.

My husband was the first person I told about the rejection letter. Without hesitation, he gave me a hug and a kiss to comfort me. Thankfully no cows or barracudas were injured in the process. I know I will be OK. I’m still writing.

Keep going, fellow creators!

Naddy/Nadine