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'Am I Doing This Right?': 5 Thoughts Every Girl With Anxiety Has While Having Sex

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Have you ever had that heart-pounding, stomach twisting, paranoid feeling for absolutely no reason other than that the sky is blue? Congratulations, you have anxiety, just like I do. I've been anxious for as long as I can remember.

My mind can't help but to obsess about why a person gave me a certain look on the subway or why my boyfriend didn't respond to my last Facebook message.

I mean, he read it one minute ago; I can see that he has "seen it." WHY HASN'T HE ANSWERED? IS HE CHEATING ON ME? HE'S CHEATING.

Oh, nevermind; he just answered.

Does this sound familiar? We know we are irrational, but sometimes, our dear friend, Anxiety, rears its ugly head and brings out our true colors of how we would act in life-threatening scenarios, which is, needless to say, not well.

So, if we get anxious about things as tiny as everyday occurrences, you can only imagine the thoughts we might have when we have sex with someone new or unfamiliar. The thoughts may seem far-fetched, out of context or ridiculous, but to us, they're just life.

So, what five things are running through an anxious female's brain while she has intercourse? I'd like to direct your attention to the text below:

1. Can he notice that I'm breaking out in that one small corner of my forehead?

Ughhh, this pimple is huge. No, I'm not exaggerating. It's honestly gigantic. It could swallow up a small country. I really hope he doesn't want to do missionary so maybe he won't see this pimple.

No, no, no! Why is he trying to do missionary!?!?! Is he looking at it? HE'S LOOKING AT IT! Is he even enjoying this? I wonder if he's too distracted by my forehead. I feel like he's only thinking about my pimple.

No, please go back to doggy. Doggy was better; I felt fine with that. Is he looking at my eyes or my forehead? OMG, stop looking at it!

2. Is he thinking about someone else right now?

I know he said I was hot, but what if he's thinking about, like, Mila Kunis right now? She is so hot, and he definitely thinks she's so hot, too. Crap, now I'm thinking about having sex with Mila Kunis, so this must mean he's thinking about it, too, right?

Does this make me a lesbian? Okay, focus. Focus on letting yourself go and enjoying this. Just breathe. OMG, Mila Kunis' face is still in my mind. Okay, now it's gone. Sh*t, nope, nope. It's back. Eh, could be worse.

3. Does my ass look bad from that angle?

Womp. I really feel like my ass doesn't look that good from this angle. I've been doing so many squats and this position makes it look like I do nothing all day but eat. I feel like this angle is just emphasizing how little of an ass I have.

Hopefully he doesn't need any other lighting than this desk lamp. What's he doing? Please tell me he's not stopping this to turn the other lights on. No. HALT. WHY IS HE TURNING ON THE FLUORESCENT LIGHTS!? THEY ARE MY BUTT'S WORST ENEMY! THEY ARE RUINING MY LIFE.

4. I really hope I don't fart.

God, this is my worst nightmare. I would rather die a thousand deaths than fart in front of a guy, let alone while having sex. That's like the ultimate way to get a boner to die and die again. I wish he'd just go back to missionary now.

Doggy-style is making me cramp up and I feel extra paranoid about my intestines today. Maybe he'll get bored of it cause the angle sucks. Nope, he's not getting bored. Definitely not. Maybe if it happens, I can blame him.

Do you think he'd buy that? How drunk is he? If he's drunk enough, it could work. Sh*t, can we switch to any other position? Literally, ANY OTHER?!

5. What do I say when we're done?

Do I say thanks? No, that's too formal. Will he ask to stay? Do I ask him to stay? Maybe I should just go to sleep. No, I can't; I kind of like him. I feel nervous. I wish someone could decide this for me.

I'll ask him to stay. Uh, but what if that's too eager? Maybe he'll fall asleep, but what if we both fall asleep and he ditches early? I'm not ready for him to see me without my makeup. I'll just sleep with it on.

Photo Courtesy: Tumblr