Tequila and Tea

~ A Love Story (Sort Of) ~

There’s a certain kind of intimacy that doesn’t get enough credit. Not sex. Not grand gestures. Not matching couples’ tattoos. No, I’m talking about the moment a man rests his head on your thighs like they’re the finest down pillows known to mankind.

You know the one: he settles in like he’s found the divine feminine in bodily form, breathes a sigh of contentment, and suddenly your thighs are no longer legs, they’re a sanctuary. A soft, warm, fleshy altar to his peace of mind.

At first, it’s kind of cute. Sweet, even. You think, Look at this man, finding comfort in me. In my body. In this moment. It feels tender. Honest. Like maybe this is love—or at least, like he trusts you enough to nap on you.

But somewhere around minute 20, as your leg starts to fall asleep and he snores with the innocence of a toddler after too much birthday cake, you start to wonder:

Is this intimacy… or just convenience?

Because while he’s using your thighs as Tempur-Pedic cushions, are you being emotionally supported in return? Or are you always the pillow—soft, available, comforting—while he gets to rest, reset, and walk away lighter, while you’re left holding the emotional weight?

I’ve had my thighs used as pillows more than once. And I’ll admit it: sometimes I loved it. Sometimes I let it mean more than it did. Sometimes I thought this must be a sign of something deeper. But sometimes—more often than I’d like to admit—it was just a moment. A beautiful, fleeting, head-on-thigh kind of moment that didn’t lead to the kind of love I truly desire.

So now, when a man lays his head on my thighs, I ask myself:

• Does he also listen when I speak?
• Does he see me when I’m not soft and soothing?
• Will he stay when the pillow turns into a woman with needs, fire, and wild dreams?

Because these thighs? They deserve more than being a resting place. They deserve to be worshiped, respected, and met with equal emotional presence.

Thighs as pillows? Yes. But only for the one who knows it’s not just comfort—it’s communion.