Here is a link: https://alittlebitofeverything.life
Come with me if you want to…
Here is a link: https://alittlebitofeverything.life
Come with me if you want to…
I am still off the dating sites and frankly it feels good. I can’t handle the never-ending parade of people and all the sorting and sifting of information and energy that has to take place. It’s okay. I have learned and grown again…that is always a good thing.
It doesn’t mean I won’t be having sex… I’m not at this moment completely sure how… but it will completely work itself out. I am surrendering to the Universe on that. I have disconnected from my whole self and my body far too much in the last four years (and much to much other decades of life as well), but no more whining from me because of being overwhelmed by the dating parade since it isn’t happening.
I found two blog entries from a blogger named “Cerebral Sir” that are speaking to me on a very deep level…a place I didn’t know about until this last journey back into the dating world. (I will share links to these blog posts at the end to ensure he gets credit for his meaningful words).
Some of his words gave tangible expression to things I felt inside and had not yet been able to verbalize…or maybe even completely acknowledge? Here are the ones that speak to me the most…
“For some girls, “I love you” isn’t enough. It doesn’t satiate all her needs. It leaves an emptiness deep inside their stomachs. Maybe that emptiness is everywhere.” “If I could reach inside her, I would. I’d dig out all the waste until I found what matters. What do I tell a woman who has been hurting since she was a little girl? How do I go back in time and create a safe space where she can skip along unafraid? I’ve kissed her forehead 1000 times. I’ve held her just as many. I’ve wiped away her tears. All that helps, but when my arms are wrapped around her, I dare not squeeze too tight. It still feels like she is ready to crumble.” “It’s ok if it’s not enough. But see how I don’t turn away. Watch as I carry her across a field of broken glass barefoot. Find me a dragon and I’ll slay it. I will build walls around us brick by brick until my fingertips are raw tender flesh. Is she not safe? Will she ever be? If I stand guard through the dark, does she not trust that I won’t let anything hurt her?” “ I whisper these words, “Daddy loves you,” and she melts in my hands. I have to hold her up from falling. I whisper it again, “Daddy loves you,” and now I’m feeling it, too.” “I only now realize it. She’s been holding her breath. Not just here in this moment. She has been holding her breath since I met her. She has probably been holding it long before that. Her chest expands and contracts for the first time.” “It doesn’t have to make sense. It doesn’t have to be reasoned. It’s what she needs to hear. It’s what I need to say. Now that it’s been discovered others can discover it, too. Others need to hear these words. Others need to say them. So, let it be said to the soul. Let it be heard by the soul. “I know you’ve never been safe before but now you are. I’ve found you. I was meant to find you. I’m your Daddy. And your Daddy loves you.”
“Let me tell you what being your Daddy means to me. It means your hurt is like flames on the horizon. It’s like collisions in traffic. It’s like all the windows of a building shattering at the same time. I can’t look away. Little girl, I get that your whole life you’ve been told to push through. You’ve been told to ignore it. No one wanted the burden of your hurt. It’s OK if you say nothing. Rest your head on my shoulder. Let me put my arm around you. Little girl, let’s sit in the quiet together. Close your eyes when my lips press to your forehead. Yes, this pain will pass. And it will come back. And it will pass again. It will lay dormant under the surface. Allow it to rise. Allow it to fill the space around us and weigh on us like an oppressive heatwave.”
“By now you know I can take it. Being your Daddy isn’t just about the spankings and the orgasms. More than anything, it’s about this unbreakable connection. It’s bigger than boyfriend/girlfriend. It’s grander than being lovers. Look into my eyes when I tell you, “Daddy loves you.” Do you think my voice wavers? Do you think I have any doubt? Little girl, I’m your daddy because I want to be everything for you. I want to be your boyfriend and lover. I want to be your dominant. I want to be your friend. I want to be your family. I want to be the one who guides you through the hurt and the happiness. I want to be the one you reach for in the dark.
So, when you’re having an “off day;” when depression shows its face, know that I am never far. You can tell because you’ll feel my lips on your neck. My hand will slide into yours. My fingers will run through your hair. I’ll be the one wiping away your tears. That warmth you feel will be my body squeezing yours. Little girl, I am your Daddy. I’m your Daddy when you’re horny. I’m your Daddy when you’re bored. I’m your Daddy when you’re angry. I’m your daddy when you’re happy. And maybe most importantly I’m your Daddy when you’re sad. I’m an all-weather Daddy. Let it rain. Let it snow. Let massive pellets of hail come crashing down on us. It doesn’t matter if the flood waters rise. It’s OK if the winds rip through our town. When it feels like you can’t take it any longer look to your side. That’s where I will be. Little girl, that’s where I will always be.”
I now see that was actually most of his words – LOL – I could have just shared them all. What a beautiful expression of what DD/lg is about (at least for me). If you remember the post, “What kind of dom is this?” from March…surprise – THIS is what kind of dom it is. My days with any other type of dom are over. And that feels good. Clarity is always good. Every time I hear the words “punkin'”, “honey”, “sweetheart”, “baby girl”… I will melt and my brain will instantly go to the floaty sub space where I can let go… I don’t want to hold my breath anymore.
Thank you The Cerebral Sir, for your eloquence.
The internal storm is over (for the moment). I can open up my little turtle shell and make my blog public again. Who knew I was a turtle? I thought my spirit animal was a dolphin. I don’t write for “the public”. I write for myself. It’s the way I sort and process…especially emotions. I do believe however that everyone struggles with some of the same stuff to a degree. If I share my journey and thoughts, maybe…just maybe… it can make someone else somewhere feel like they are not alone if they struggle with the same things. It will take a little while to restore everything, but I am okay, and everything is fine…I can come back out of the shell.
Scanning my 247 new emails this morning, I caught “You’re a match!”. My heart stopped for a second…WTF? I am not on any dating sites anymore! Upon closer inspection, it was a “match” for a new credit card…Geez – don’t need any of those either…
Today I am craving physical touch so incredibly badly. It’s been more than a month since I’ve had sex and it’s been on my mind for more than 24 hours in a big way (mostly due to one harmless little word). I know, you’re thinking go pleasure yourself – problem solved. I did – it isn’t. I guess it human nature to need the touch of other humans. We certainly need it as infants and children – there is that whole “failing to thrive” thing. Well, I “fail to thrive” as an adult without it too. I do know if ignore it long enough it will eventually go away, and I will be back to my sexless self again. I should go outside and bust my ass working in the yard. Let the physical work wear me out and sweat the demons out…but I can’t. The fibro flareup won’t allow that today. Besides, we are back to cold and damp Seattle weather…picture sweaty drowned rat look…not my best…and I do have that attractive single neighbor…I caught him looking at my ass when I was on a ladder trimming hedges…it was a little awkward, but we have moved past it. Weirdly enough he left me a bottle of wine one day after that…was that a message I should invite him over to drink it? I never know what things mean unless someone tells me…socially I feel very obtuse.
I could text the ex-Buddhist monk…he is an interesting situation. We agreed we would have sex just once, but then we did get together again…he wrote an entire book that was a cross between an autopsy of the relationship that failed and forever broke his heart and a love letter to the woman who broke it…it’s available for free digitally on Amazon. Imagine a love that deep…but he is also an INTJ – so I do know he had to write it just to process it. Still, it touched my heart. I still have a copy on my phone, although I have not read it again. Sex is one of the few ways I can completely get out of my own head…just focusing on sensation…a girl does need a break from constant thinking! I am 99% sure he would be down…I just heard that Marion Hill song in my head “Down”… are you down? Are you down? Are you d.d.d.down? LOL! He does understand my need to be physical because we are both wired that way…we will see.
I could also text the drug smuggling operation ex-con guy. I am pretty sure he would not ask for or want any explanation…I could say “Sex?” and the answer would be “Yes”. The last thing in the world I need though is for 4 ½ weeks guy to drive by and see my car since they live in the same neighborhood. He would be the type to come banging on the door demanding to know why I was stalking him by fucking a neighbor. Yes, that’s the way the crazy thinks.
There is also that guy who keeps texting me every few days even though I don’t respond…but he is an unknown. I’m not really in the mood for the unknown. I would text my fuck buddy – but he has certainly done enough for me this week – enough is enough, besides he needs more notice.
Maybe I should just get on the exercise bike…no, my body won’t cooperate. Maybe the answer is pancakes. I’ve been such a mess I’m pretty sure I haven’t eaten more than 1000 calories a day all week…this is where I come back around to missing my guy that died. He used to “love rub” me to sleep every night and make sure I ate…Fuck. I don’t have a “lizard brain”. I have a “hamster on a wheel” brain…always coming back around to him and the life we had. I used to live in a multi-million-dollar home and drive a Bentley Flying Spur. Now I live in a rental house and drive a Prius. Life changes. We adapt…or so we should…sometimes I do for a minute.
I am going to try and leave my phone alone…no texting for sex…I will do laundry, change the sheets, re-watch a good movie…be good. I tried to “be good” yesterday and read, but next thing you know I’m reading erotica all day (thanks to Naughty Nora and all the blogs she follows!). I think pancakes really might help…
Recap of the month…
In no particular order…
I met a man who seemed somewhat promising. We were able to have great conversation. Turns out he is a cross-dresser. I really tried to be open minded about this…I was working on it. I did some reading, asked some questions…I do not think I can really be sexually attracted to a man that likes to dress in women’s clothing. Does that make me a bad human? As it worked out, he has some trouble getting and maintaining an erection and he thinks I’m too fat (ouch!). Not a match after all – that was several weeks wasted.
Reconnected with my fuckbuddy for a playdate…Thank you Universe for that. I really do like him. It’s sad he doesn’t see more for “us”. There is no “us”. He has “a lot going on”. I’ve never even been to his house…he always gets a hotel (No, he is not married). Hotel sex is fun in its own way…
There was a man that reached out who is much older than I would normally consider…wanted me to marry him and move to his ranch…umm “No thank you”, we don’t even know each other… Maybe we should have a date first? He wanted to” chase me around the barn” and even decided which room in his ranch would be my office (I think that’s the 3rd or 4th marriage semi-proposal in the last 30 days?).
I also connected for an evening with a guy who asked more questions about the 4 ½ weeks guy than about me (weird right?). This guy had talked to that guy about real estate – they live in the same neighborhood and that’s how this guy and I had initially exchanged numbers – over a potential real estate deal. He invited me over for a steak BBQ. He was very handsome and fit and had a truly gorgeous, well-proportioned, big, thick, cock (not a premediated “sex” date…just worked out that way…I am a “go with the flow” person). It turns out he spent 20 years in prison for running a drug smuggling operation in the 90’s – it was all very sordid and involved a cartel and woman he was dating who tried to get his sentence reduced by being a wired informant. He didn’t tell me – but I googled and discovered. I knew this before the steak dinner… I had wondered if he would tell me. I wonder now if he is planning some sort of scam on 4 1/2 weeks guy to get his house and plane? I might be flypaper for freaks.
Also had dinner with a man that was the tiniest man I have ever met. Seriously. His pictures looked “normal” but his entire frame and stature was really tiny. Nice guy…well, he did ghost me after the dinner, so maybe not that nice…although I now have a new favorite place to get amazing tacos. He asked me if I knew my dating profile was “intimidating”. Yeah, that’s me…LOL. One guy reached out the other day about my profile and said,” I might have just fallen in love. I think you’re something else. When can we have our first date? You are right up my alley. Sign me up!” Since his profile basically said nothing, I responded with something to the effect of “Tell me more about yourself”. That scared him away. I am completely fierce!
I’ve said it before… no more dating sites for me. No more dates. Maybe just one more time with the fuckbuddy, so I can end on a somewhat (at least sexually) positive note…then spend the rest of forever alone…sexless…working out so I don’t ever be perceived as “too fat”. Society has set all of us women up for failure with a fucked up culture of body image. Maybe no – to the one more time with FB, it always makes me want more of him and wonder why he doesn’t want more…he isn’t seeing anyone else…what secret ingredient am I missing that he wants/needs?
I have been riding a stationary recumbent bike doing 6-12 miles a day (binge watched all of the seasons of Californication doing that). Yesterday, I rented a Lime (that is an electric assist bicycle you can rent and ride around various parts of Seattle). I did lots of miles yesterday (15) and now have the worst pain in my nether regions from the seat! I wonder if that passes with time (like when you ride horses often) or if I need padded pants to continue riding a regularly positioned bike. And what is that?? Bruising? Why do I not remember that from riding bikes in my childhood?
I had a headache for 48 hours and then a toothache…got tested for COVID again (negative), the testing is now much more civilized by the way. But as a positive, when I called my dentist’s office in tears to ask for an emergency visit, I did schedule a cleaning and check-up. I get to leave the house at an un-godly early hour on Wednesday to be there.
I had a horrible nightmare last night. It involved someone’s male, computerized voice coming through my Alexa, the lights not working and an abduction of a woman from my garage (where the door was open and the lights were on) and he said he would be back for me…I don’t often have dreams that wake me up in fear. Not sure what to make of it. I actually don’t usually feel fear…I lived through some truly terrifying real things in my real life so it takes a lot to give me fear now. Then the TV turned itself on early this morning very loud, downstairs in the family room (no it was not paused and no one was awake and up) – I have no idea what that was about either…maybe the ghost of my fiancé turned it on to scare away the bad guy whose voice I dreamed came through my Alexa hours earlier? It’s going to take all day to shake the weirdness of all that.
Happy Monday…the beginning of the rest of my alone and sexless life.
When it was first suggested to me someone’s kink was to be “Daddy” to a “Little Girl”, honestly – my first response in my mind was “Eewwwe”, “No Thank you – I am a full-grown woman”. I had to ask a million questions…because well… that’s who I am. I had learned of this preference/kink after some amazing sex with this person…seriously he could make me orgasm by just massaging my butt or ever so gently running his fingers around on my back and sides in circles – it’s like all the nerve endings in my entire body are alive and wired for his touch – it’s crazy!
Daddy issues…Some of us legitimately have them. I know I do…abandonment, abuse – it’s not pretty. I had to ask him, “Does this mean you fantasize about having sex with a child? Or someone not age-appropriate? Does it mean you want to have sex with your niece? – The answer was “No” “It’s just the situation in my mind when I am having sex/play time”.
Upon asking a truly annoying number of questions, and then following up with my own research, I found this style of “Dom” is just that…another form of dominance and play. The sex was so good with him, I decided to play along. I figured, since I called my own fathers “Father or Step-Father or “Dad” – never “Daddy” (we didn’t ever have that kind of soft child-parent relationship), that I could call this man “Daddy” during sex and not feel like I was engaging in an incestuous relationship. Jokes about rationalization aside (I just heard Jeff Goldblum’s voice in my head “Rationalizations – we all need them. You can’t get through the day without at least one good juicy one”), I am glad I did. Although my initial hesitation and research period may have hurt his feelings – which I would never want to do – I always want to be respectful of another person’s kink…it is so deeply personal. It was a wise decision to play with it and has felt actually healing in some ways.
Engaging in this type of D/s play is so kind and loving – when you have a kind and loving “Daddy”. It took me to places I didn’t know I needed. I know some people carry it to an extreme that I for sure would not be comfortable with – but to allow him to be completely in charge, to just do as he asked, relinquish any control or concerns and just be in the moment…feeling sensation… while cherished and cared for, felt so good. Soft, kind, loving, supportive…it felt almost as if I had been given some protection and care I needed on a deep level that I didn’t even know I needed. I actually cried after orgasm with this man on two occasions – and I am not a crier – and have never ever cried during or after sex with anyone else! I told him I did not understand what it was about and that I was not sad or anything. He just wrapped me up in his big arms and said “It’s okay baby girl. You just had some stuff pent up that needed to be released. You’re okay.” This type of domination feels more “protective” and “loving” than other shades of domination and the submission is slightly different also. The words “Baby girl”, “Sweetheart” and “Punkin’ ” create a different feeling for me now – whereas before, they would have made me bristle…I don’t have to be “strong”. I can feel like I am allowing someone “to take care of me”.
As with any good Dom, he can be completely in tune with your body and knows what you need even when you don’t…it’s an art…” I am the instrument and he is the musician” is the best way to sum it up.
(Silently wishing a “Happy Birthday” to my Daddy Dom…)
Random thoughts rolling around in my head today…
A million years ago (or when I was in my 20’s – your choice), I thought when you find the person to spend your life with everything would somehow magically work out. Obviously, that was an child-like assumption. As I got older, I saw there are so many facets to each person, it is really very challenging to have one person to meet all your needs…mentally, emotionally, physically, sexually. Maybe that’s why some cultures are accepting of a married person having a lover on the side?
During and after my divorce, I actually filled the various needs each with different people. This was working fairly well for me, although I lacked a sense of “home” – one person who was your emotional, mental, physical, sexual “safety net”. Ultimately, I had to rely on myself… we all do to some degree I suppose. Then I stumbled across someone who was able to meet most of my needs most of the time. That was surprising and wonderful… and I didn’t need other people to fill the roles. After he died, I realize he left me with renewed hope of that “wholeness” being more attainable. Who knows if it would have been sustainable for an entire lifetime? I do know he would have tried his best and I would have also.
Is the concept of marriage outdated if you aren’t creating children? I’d like to think not. A good marriage is a good partnership where the people publicly and privately support one another in all aspects of life. We are built that way. Wired for interdependence. So now I’m back to how is one person supposed to meet all the facets of who you are and what you need? Either you are lucky and someone intuitively knows, senses, and sees what you need and is not only willing – but eager – to give it to you, or you spend time feeling frustrated, not understood and trying to teach someone what you need.
I could have a person for intellectual conversation, another for sharing emotional stuff, another for companionship and camaraderie, another for hot kinky sex that lasts for hours…and rely on myself for financial stability. But honestly after having the whole package (or 90% of it), it’s really hard to look down the barrel of a remaining life without it. Having different people for different things just feels more hollow now. So… that leaves trying to teach someone to be what you need. Just the thought of that sentence is exhausting. They also have to be wanting to learn and you have to learn what they need too. And of course, the thing you can’t even teach is to have someone who is “thirsty” to be with you…they can’t get enough of you just being you…which makes you not be able to get enough of them…maybe that is not repeatable? Maybe that chunk will forever be missing?
I haven’t even checked the dating site lately or responded to notifications of messages, but strangely I am bumping into a lot of opportunities and invitations to engage with others anyway. But rather than my usual “seize the day” attitude, I’m pausing…weighing out the pros and cons…evaluating the potential for that being my forever “home” – now mind you most likely these opportunities and invitations are not yet considering the possibility of being one another’s “forever home”, they are just playing the game of filling needs and living for the moment. Then there is the guy I keep “playing house with” in my mind… I want to rearrange his furniture and clean everything and imagine myself a part of it…but it’s not my space to do that in. Am I maturing and evolving? Or just making myself crazy?
Why is everything so complicated? I have had quite a few “forever” invitations in the past few years, but I seem to be holding out…I don’t just want to “be married”. I want passion, love, lust, security, safety…I want it all. I feel like age-appropriate men aren’t willing to give it all. Or maybe they don’t have it all to give? I have to break down walls, spend time teaching, and try to inspire passion? All while trying not be shamed for my sex drive or kinky appetite they may or may not understand – sex is truly important to me. I wish I were younger. I would be so much better at it now.
Maybe the whole “one person” paradigm truly is outdated? Maybe our society is in the middle of an evolution? Maybe I’m too much in my head and I need to just go have hot, kinky sex for an afternoon and forget about the bigger picture? (There you are dirty girl…I’ve missed you)
Why are dungeons called dungeons? That sounds so…dank, dark, dirty and unhappy. I hereby vote to change the name of dungeons that do not have a moat, drawbridge and dragon, to “playrooms”. That sounds happier to me.
Why do men who want to be dominated seem to be drawn to me lately? As a woman business owner, it is not uncommon to have the appearance of being “in charge” and being comfortable in that role. Strong women it seems, however, often prefer to be submissive sexually. Guys should know this and not look to us to be the dominant. It is most likely the soft, mild-mannered, mousy seeming women who would like to take charge sexually. Or maybe all the personality stereotypes have nothing to do with anything and my observations are merely coincidental!
Lately, I meet a guy and pretty quickly I can tell he wants me to dominate him…heavy sigh. My attitude is someone has to take the lead…either lead or move the fuck over and I will. I get very tired of trying to teach or train a lover to dominate me. So lately, I’m trying to embrace it…maybe the Universe wants me to domme for a while. Maybe there is something to be gained. Maybe I have been the submissive in relationships for too long. I do feel that since I know how a sub thinks and experiences things, maybe that gives me insight into good domination. You may call me Mistress Undomesticated Bitch – LOL (Or Mistress UB for short). Actually, as much as I want to say “just shut the fuck up” lately, maybe this is a good fit – I shall invest in some gags. Understand though, dominating is tiring…you have to think many moves ahead and it means a significant amount of time on your feet in heels.
On a recent trip to NOLA, I was introduced to the concept of “cuddle parties”. New Orleans is so gritty it doesn’t seem like a cuddle party place – LOL. Apparently, they are not new and exist everywhere. I have no interest in cuddles. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not a soft, squishy kind of girl who “cuddles”. Get yourself a teddy bear and move along….as far as the gritty atmosphere of NOLA, I appreciate it’s dark, sexy undertones and it is fun to dress sexy and wear a mask – which is completely 100% acceptable there! My next stop on my summer travel tour will be Vegas. Predictable sexiness there…mostly polished up, in your face, glamorized, sexy. After Vegas, in August, will be Alaska. Not sure what kind of sexiness is up there, but most likely involves plaid of some kind – LOL. I will keep you posted.
It has been a couple weeks since I blogged an update. Nebulizer breathing treatments, first dates, a wedding and a funeral sums it up if you are in a hurry.
I am sincerely hoping for some allergy relief sometime before the next frost. Maybe I should move…would they be better in another state or country? I’m still up in the air with work and on a break from my volunteer work. I am literally trying to put my oxygen mask on first right now.
I have had a handful or so of first dates in the last couple weeks…It is so disappointing to have good conversations on-line and on the phone, then meet the person and have no chemistry face to face. It seems like things are all lined up and good…you have things in common, you’re laughing, sharing stories…then blah face to face…nothing…and they look 10-15 years older than they did in their pictures. Can I have the guy you used to be please?
I am pretty sure Mercury is in retrograde again…so maybe that’s why the dates lately are extra bad. Twice in the last month someone I kissed has orgasmed in their pants…WTF?! The first one, I was embarrassed for him…a little flattered…but two?! No…there has to be an issue with some guys my age. Maybe it’s been so long since they had physical interaction, they are like teenaged boys just losing their shit with the least little bit of attention. Maybe they need to spend more time with their hand before going out into the dating world again? I just can’t. I have no words. Remember me? I like sex for hours. This isn’t going to work.
Then there was one guy who bit my lip during a kiss…I mean bit my lip hard and wouldn’t let go…I was saying “ouch, ouch, Owwweeee!” This guy just kept biting harder – pulling my lip away from my face and drawing blood. It was swollen for days. I made a joke about my safe word – but holy shit this guy was weird. Upon further discussion, he has a permanent bag attached to his side due to Chron’s Disease and I swear was probably at least 10 years older than he said he was. Then he ghosted me (not that I wanted more interaction). Maybe the bite was somehow his way of expressing frustration? Why are you out on a date if you can’t behave?
Then there was the guy who prayed quietly to himself before we ate…Oy Vey. There are guys who have their lives all orchestrated and laid out just the way they want them waiting to insert the woman they want…It’s weird – the furniture choices, tending to their flowers, everything “just so” – don’t want any changes…just want to insert woman here in their little world. Others seem to have no life…live with a relative, nothing of their own really…I guess just waiting to be picked and inserted into a woman’s perfectly choreographed little world. Whatever happened to each person having a life and then wanting to combine them into something even better and more interesting? My life is not well choreographed. It’s messy and ever changing. And I have this feeling that at any moment I might just pick up and leave and go somewhere totally random and start over again… so who knows where I will even be next year. People my age are weird. And not weird in a good way.
I just got back from a road trip to the other side of the state for a wedding. It would be so fun to be in my 20’s again with the knowledge and wisdom I have now…I kept all my cynicism, advice and wisdom to myself all weekend. I interacted with ex in-laws. I was nice when others weren’t. Just for fun, I checked my Tinder while I was there to see if the puddle of age-appropriate men was any better there…more of the same, just in a different location. I also scoped the wedding looking for age-appropriate single men. Didn’t find any. I figure the Universe will throw the right person in my path at some point, so I have an obligation to be on the lookout!
I am headed to a funeral next. It’s in San Francisco. My brother’s wife…it’s sad. I uniquely know how he feels and the journey he is beginning through grief. I suspect he will traverse it a lot more gracefully than I did. Is it wrong to scope a funeral for a potential date/future partner? Grief is something that never really goes away. You just learn to live with it differently. I still miss Robert. Especially when I have had to deal with unpleasant people – he always had my back, or when I’m driving hundreds of miles – we did that together so many times and had so much fun doing it, or when I remember how it feels to be completely loved and adored by someone and miss it so much… anyway I didn’t think my first post covid flight would be to a funeral.
I have the worst allergies. If I live on the water (ocean) they are a million times better – something about the wind blowing across the water? Or less trees because of the space the water takes up? I don’t live on the water anymore. I have big trees across the back of the house. They have been bad for a while now, but this week extra bad because of the cottonwood blowing around and piling up like snow. That, in particular, just kills me. I can’t breathe. I’m probably over medicating just to survive at this moment…so about to share too much. The weeds we are about to go off into are literal and figurative.
I am not having a very good week really. I can’t breathe, there was the whole Brucifer debacle…which upon reflection just communicating with him had a level of negativity I don’t generally have around me, and I found out my government contract for work was not renewed through the company I have been working with for the last 11 years. I have to find out who did get the contract (haven’t been able to yet) and somehow become a vendor for them…that has me stressed.
So yesterday, I’m minding my business…trying to breathe and deal with “stuff” and I ended up in conversation with a guy. He sort of caught me at the right moment – you know… between trying to breathe and trying not to cry because life is sucking at this moment…he was so positive – fresh air (further magnifying how toxic B had been). He invited me to lunch. I thought wtf…okay…lunch is harmless enough with Mr. Positivity. I could use a bright spot in the week.
Lunch with Mr. positivity revealed he is a Navy Seal who teaches tactical stuff. We had a pleasant chat and he invited me over. I thought okay…I can change my mind when I get there if I choose…so far this meeting has been pleasant and oh so positive. I’m just soaking up the positive energy…I need it. He lives deep, deep in the woods…he is in process of building. It’s very…what’s the word I’m looking for…rustic (not quite the right one, but it will do). He has an RV converted to kitchen and eating area, another structure for living and sleeping, multiple other structures housing building supplies and various other things, there is a pond, bird feeders he made… he has built closets and furniture…showed me “composting toilets” – wow. This is way more rustic than I would at my age tolerate. I’m contemplating saying goodbye now because this is just too pioneer for me. I spent part of my childhood in the Appalachian Mountains…I have already embraced my inner pioneer. She now prefers the Four Seasons. But I’m here…and he is kissing me, and it is very, very nice… I decide, yes, this is an acceptable way to spend my afternoon. This is actually a very gorgeous man, in excellent shape, who just oozes positive energy. Surprise… he has the biggest cock I have ever seen. Seriously.
Consider me a penis connoisseur of sorts…I would like to think because I write, I research…I pay attention. I observe and question…after all – inquiring minds want to know. Just like each woman’s body is different, unique and beautiful in its own way – each penis is different, unique and beautiful in its own way. Some are thin, some thick – most somewhere in the middle. Some long, some short, some have a curve this way or that – some do not…some have very pronounced heads others may be accompanied by very large balls or small ones or somewhere in between…Brucifer had a Prince Albert piercing – which I had never seen before…so obviously I had to ask a lot of questions about that! I especially appreciate a well-balanced, symmetrical penis with good girth – length is less important to me. I appreciate a man who is clean shaven in the nether regions also.
Mr. Positivity is clean shaven (very nicely I might add – no stubble), very smooth and well-balanced, straight, hard and humongous. That is another thing about penis observation…hardness. Men 43-63 have varying degrees of hardness. Some require constant coaxing to become hard and/or stay hard even though their owner’s mind is all in. Some achieve “firmness”, others a degree of actual “hardness” beyond “firm”. This massive one is hard…more than firm…but he has also told me he eats very clean and takes vitamins and supplements – so maybe penis health is very much tied to general health. Actually, I am quite sure it is…too much alcohol consumption on the regular leads to “whiskey dick” …too much fast-food lead to unhealthy fats, poor circulation, and less hard penises. (Side thought…. should the plural of penis be peni? Or penises?) This penis is very, very healthy (maybe I should embrace composting toilets and put this man in charge of my health for a while? I bet he could get rid of my menopausal middle and get me to be toned and fit…). He even acted like he wasn’t really aware it was abnormally large…he is a Navy Seal – you mean to tell me guys in the military don’t compare dicks?! I am quite sure they must!
So now we all think we would like a big penis to play with but let me tell you honestly there are a few issues. I would need practice to get good at handling one this size…it wont all fit in your mouth and throat (sorry to be so graphic) so you have to modify your entire blow job style. Next issue is – you know from reading my blog – I love good hard slow fucking…you cannot do that with a penis this big…it’s too long – there is no where for it to go except what feels like into your other organs…which is not fun. So, once again modifications are required. Luckily, a man who owns something this large for more than 50 years knows how to do this. It was a beautiful penis. A masterpiece.
And he was very nicely quiet. Don’t get me wrong, I like sex noises…moans…well-chosen words – sex talk or talking “dirty” can enhance the experience. Especially if you are “in relationship” and know what appeals to each other. I appreciated Mr. Positivity’s silence…especially after Brucifer’s talk while fooling around – his talking dirty involved name calling, which for me – is not sexy. I have no desire to be a “little bitch” or “hot cunt”. The first time he said it I offended him because I laughed. I had to explain it caught me off guard… no judgement – whatever makes you happy. One thing that is difficult is when someone you’re with says “talk dirty to me” and you don’t know them well enough to know what the right things to say are…plus it’s making me work and use my brain when I am trying to ignore my brain and just observe the world through my skin. The right words, well-chosen, can absolutely enhance the experience…you just have to know the other person’s mind and be on a similar mindset page.
Surprisingly enough I heard from ex-Buddhist Monk again last night…he had good sex talk. He would like to see me again. That was a very nice penis and awesome sex…plus he told me “I don’t mean to be crass, but I have to say you are a great fuck”… which my self-esteem actually really needed at that moment in time.
I probably won’t ever see this “positive penis” again (does it seem like I am objectifying men?)…the owner is nice…but the woods made my allergies worse, the drive home was long, I don’t wish to be a “pioneer woman” … may I please have spa treatment and a nice Grand Cru?
In all honesty, I lasted about 2 days without the dating apps. I went back to them and also added Tinder…interaction on these dating sites is like some kind of crack for masochistic single people. I hate it and don’t want to be there, but can’t seem to stay the fuck away!
Friday night, I got a text from Brucifer…remember, he was given two chances already and ghosted me again for no reason. The text says “Can’t get you off my mind…”
I’m thinking no fucking way – it’s been a month…this guy does not deserve the time of day from me. But I’m curious, I really want to know what his issue is. So I respond with “Why did you disappear? I don’t understand you…are you married or something? On medication?”
He says “No…I’m not married or on medication. I’m just a little gun shy…had some bad experiences with the last couple of women I’ve fallen for. One turned out to be very controlling and the other turned out to have borderline personality disorder and was on the spectrum. I’m incredibly attracted to you and quite frankly that makes me nervous, which is odd for me…”
I responded with “Each time we connect, I am intensely attracted to you as well. Then each time your behavior is erratic and unpredictable. It seems unwise of me to keep engaging.”
We went back and forth about this, I said I needed to think about it and that I had extended trust to him and he keeps disappearing or abandoning me – and I have abandonment issues. I also inquired about if he had considered therapy about this issue. He indicated he understood, and it was his fault and he tried to leave me alone, but the Universe won’t let him – I keep “popping up” (he saw me on Tinder). He indicated he “doesn’t trust his ability to pick healthy women” but can’t deny a connection with me.
The next couple days we began rebuilding some trust – became Facebook friends – I wanted to see his posts and where he stands on stuff and how he interacts as part of rebuilding trust. He followed me on Instagram, so I requested to follow him back – which he approved. I found his “super like” on Tinder and “liked him back” so we could be connected. He had unmatched me on Match – so we had no connection there anymore…still don’t. I was thinking it’s insane of me to give him another chance, but he seems so sincere. Side note – he was out of town on a motorcycle trip. We communicated Saturday, Sunday…Monday he got very quiet, and I was thinking “here we go again…”, Then I went a little on tilt and texted quite a long text about if he has gone dark on me again I have no words and the only reason I am even available is because my partner fucking died…etc. After some time, I was reassured he just had a long ride that day had not had time for texting and would have a long one the next – so limited communication…he got back home Tuesday night.
We spent 4 days texting a lot, exchanging pictures, having phone sex…meanwhile we had also made plans for Thursday – I would not schedule any work and we could spend time together. My brain was being dominated by this interaction because the chemistry is so strong. I didn’t focus well on my previously scheduled dates and even cancelled one because I just was having momentary obsession with this interaction. Wednesday (today), he was texting Good morning and that he wished I were there with him. When one of my appointments cancelled, I indicated I would be available for a long lunch if he wanted to get coffee. He said “yes” so, we met at the same coffee place we originally met at – I had 2 to 2 ½ hours free…we met.
The chemistry was just as intense as before. Crazy, I n t e n s e sexual chemistry. We went to his house just a few blocks away and fooled around in his living room until I had to go…long lunch with no food. We seem to be so perfectly matched sexually…we did not have intercourse (he said “not this time”) but we did practically everything else and it was great…perfectly matched…very compatible, actually ahh…mazing.
There were just a couple of red flags I noticed that might interfere with having a permanent, long term relationship…I had planned to mull these over, watch them… and if nothing else just engage in a fabulous sexual relationship until the chemistry fizzled or we decided to go other directions. Let’s face it – really good sex…well there is nothing wrong with that!
Red flags – Like who the fuck doesn’t like even one Beatles song?! I sense a disrespect for women in general although he did speak well of his mother…two times we met for coffee and not once did he offer to order or buy it…did not even try to feed me either time (feeding me is a love language – LOL) and this coffee place has really good food…a random announcement of “hating hippies” and he coincidentally called me one the other day…general negativity and seems very quick to anger. Maybe it’s just a “stance” and not his real position? Maybe just being awkward until we get to know each other better?
I finished my workday and finally got home around 8:30pm (worked long to make up for taking tomorrow off), texted him “Hi”. No response. I got on my Tinder account to see what was going on there…who I need to reply to, etc. and notice he is gone. Unmatched again. Jumped on Instagram – he has revoked my follow. He is still following me, but I no longer have permission to follow him. Jump over to Facebook, he has been posting in the hour following my text…he is awake and online, just not responding to me. So…I decided to just call him – let’s just talk this through I’m thinking…I don’t want to wonder what is going on – do I need to make other plans for my day off? No answer…bumped to voicemail. I have been ghosted by him again!
I do not get it.
Men my age are fucked in the head…broken.
He absofuckinglutely will not get another chance. A second chance was generous, a third chance was insane…a fourth one would require me to seek professional help. You, my dear readers, must hold me accountable…If I see him again make me go to therapy! Meanwhile, I have the day off tomorrow and now nothing to do – LOL
**Update** Text at 5:30am “The chemistry is undeniable. I won’t go into all the reasons why, but we are not a good match. I hope you find what you’re looking for.” —–This is actually progress for this man…he has learned how to at least say goodbye. I go to respond…I was going to let him know that saying something shows growth and improvement and also that I was going to block him so he would not be able to change his mind later and try and talk me into connecting again. But…I was not given the privilege of a final response – I had been blocked. (As if I were the one who kept initiating contact!!??) Being blocked is a bit frustrating. Not because I wanted to ever talk to him again – he clearly needs some sort of help of some kind – but because you can’t say what you want to say or respond to what has just been said to you…it’s like someone slamming and locking a door in your face. I am aware it is my own fault – it was insane to give him another chance – but an additional observation none the less.**
Mid-month update… One week in my world can be equivalent to a month or more in someone else’s. I’m intense. It is my nature and seems to increase with age. I’m done apologizing for it. People can jump in and flow with it – or not. There does seem to be a general lack of kindness, empathy, and compassion out there right now and I don’t want to tolerate lack of that stuff…that’s the stuff that makes us “human”.
Mark # 129? (who the fuck knows – there are a million people named Mark and a lot of them I feel have crossed my path lately) … from here on out he shall be referred to as “Media Mark”. I thought I found an interesting island in a sea of mediocrity. I was wrong. By the way Mark, if someone says, “Good Night” or “Good Morning”, the customary response is to wish them the same – not “heart” it. And my dog…the one I told you I was up all night with and spent the day at the vet with, she is still alive. And yeah…I’m doing okay. Also, for the next person… you should up your “fucking” game – you are rusty. You are deep…but also very self-absorbed…the latter is not sexy. Best of luck to you.
Poly Paul…move on already. I only move forward. And not with you. If you keep sending me poetry, I’m going to lose my shit. What part of I’m not touchy feely when not in relationship do you not get? Best of luck to you also.
NSA FB – we officially said goodbye. Best of luck to you – appreciated the excellent sex. I hope you find your Gross Point Debi.
Cutting loose all the non-alpha, passive men I have been waiting for to step up and show me something inspiring. I am not inspired. Nor can I help you be what I am looking for.
So, let’s see…where does that leave me? Oh yeah…alone. That’s okay. I know how to be alone.
I don’t have enough time left on this planet for indifference or mediocrity.
I must live in all out passionate authenticity…wherever that takes me. For now, I have once again removed myself from all dating apps…people are fucking crazy. And exhausting. And as I said before, the guys my age are broken from past life shit making them have too many rules and fears. Maybe it’s Seattle. Maybe I should take a trip…go somewhere else to meet someone and fall in love. Ireland? Greece?
I openly embrace who people “are” and try to understand them “where they are” – without trying to make them someone they aren’t. I look for the “real” them and am ready to love them. So many people hide. They hide even from themselves sometimes who they are…who they want to be…who they can be. I get tired of trying to scale those walls. I can’t cope with bullshit. I want someone who is genuinely excited to be around me…in all my imperfect messiness. Someone who truly sees me, gets me, and loves who I am.
I may not write here for a while. This is the space I share about dating, sex and relationships…I may be headed another direction for a while. I will most likely channel my writing energy into another book or at least to another blog spot where I don’t focus on dating and sex.
Being authentic involves releasing our fear of not being liked. It’s about making our own decisions and thinking our own thoughts. It’s about being who we truly are – without fear or concern about how others perceive us. It’s about not tolerating bullshit. (I will walk away and stay away now.) It’s about radical candor – expressing myself frankly, fully and passionately…and expecting the same from others. Interacting deeply, being open and not afraid to expose my own weaknesses. Adopting a certain level of IDGAF-ness. No matter how much I expect others to be on board with my way of thinking,
many most will not be able to really embrace it or care to implement it themselves. That is actually okay. I continue raising the standards for myself and my life and I’m learning better how to frame the ask of those around me. Are they willing to risk not being liked by the majority to be true to themselves and the few who love who they truly are at their core? I only want to have authentic interactions. The folks who want to stay superficial have lots of other folks they can stay that way with…just not me.
I am continually amazed (not sure why I haven’t gotten over the shock yet) at how some people behave. I have open and honest conversations… I will openly talk about sex but that does not mean I will have sex with you. Is this difficult for the male mind to comprehend?
I recently went on a first date (Groundhog’s Day still happening over here) where the subject of sex came up and the man was surprised I said “No thank you, I do not want to have sex on an inflatable mattress in a construction site (WTF?!)” and I indicated that if I were inclined to have sex with him, that particular scenario is not how I would be happy fucking for hours – that would be more of a “we are already in a relationship and need a quickie sort of situation”. The “fucking for hours” threw him for a loop. He thought I was kidding. I said I was not – great sex for me usually involves hours of mutual happiness. Then he proceeded to say in a joking way “Every guy thinks he wants a nymphomaniac until they get one and have to fuck for 6 hours – is this why your ex-husband and fiancé are both dead? You fucked them to death?” This guy’s chances of a second date were already at zero, but now were a for sure… no fucking way! This guy was attempting to call me a derogatory name, slut shame me and bring up death of my past loves all in the same sentence on a first date?! – that is not nice. Plus, I wasn’t about to have sex with him anyway because I found him to be a judgmental, bigoted misogynist – the only reason I hadn’t left yet was because I was busy laughing (he was funny for most of the date) and upholding my civic responsibility to try and gently educate him through our interaction so he might be better informed and less obnoxious for the next woman to share Thai with him. Buh-bye.
Another first date was pretty darn nice…Mr. Anonymous (he asked to remain anonymous if I mentioned him in the blog), was a decent guy and we had a decent time. He did express concerns about my FB. I guess I should get better about explaining that…but I think we are done so maybe I don’t have to…unless I get another one. But just to reiterate for anyone who may have missed it – a fuck buddy is a place holder of sorts who allows you to get your physical needs met by just one person while you are finding the person you really want to be fucking.
G1 turned out to have a few issues. He has potential to be great down the road, but I am not looking for “potential”.
G2 would like a submissive slave. Not me…sorry. No thanks.
Paul #4 would like me to move into his house…what?? We haven’t been on a date yet and you want me to pack my bags?? Uh, no…crazy. Not looking for a sugar daddy (if taco daddies were a thing, we might have something to discuss…just kidding – although I love a good authentic taco).
Fall in love with a man that deserves your heart…if you can’t find him, then a man who pulls your hair and smacks your ass is a good plan B.”Says my friend Tami
I’m keeping myself busy with work… also with the non-profit humanitarian organization and I’m prepping to be a presenter at a leadership summit later in the month. I have placed my order with the Universe…in short summary – a man as deep and expansive as the ocean, that I can love and adore, who will love and adore me back, to be best friends with, and with whom we can support each other in being the best, most happy version of ourselves and have awesome sex all the time. He will arrive…may already be right in front of me…
Gazed through me and into me. Insatiable hunger. Wolf in man’s clothing.
Inert chemicals on our own – when put together create spontaneous combustion. Boom.
You said you wanted to watch me for a minute and sat down. You pulled the other chair over so when I came to sit, we were touching. Dominating my space.
Running your finger up my thigh then up my side caused my brain to melt. You felt me tremble and you laughed. Extreme heat.
Walking away so we weren’t on display, hand on my ass sending me swirling…
Hard kiss pushing me backwards – heat… hot flame, lip bite, hand in my hair squeezing a handful…back arch out of control. Instant surrender to you. Your cruelty beginning to show.
You hard in your pants with steel tip PA, desire so pure, intense carnal craving, wildfire out of control, longing out of reach at that moment. Dark energy uncorking.
Brain in a fog. Dangerous lust. Waiting until later a must.
Undeniable attraction. Hot anger. Flashing and lashing out. Lost. Lost in a flash.
Deafening silence. Saving grace. Combustion can be deadly.
No Strings Attached Fuck Buddy (NSA FB) relationships – the key here is “No strings” …that works great until somebody catches a “feeling”. Then suddenly there are strings.
The person who caught the feeling is left leaning out over the edge of a cliff ledge.
They have two choices – either fall face first over the edge- landing in a bloody, broken, messy tangle at the bottom of the crevasse- feel the pain and move on to someone else or… slowly work their way back from the edge by focusing on the other person’s less than perfectness – what you focus on expands – which can enable the feeler to lose feeling -which permanently affects the way the feeler sees the other person – you can’t go back to the squishy lovey feelings after you have focused on the negative aspects long enough to pull yourself from the edge of the cliff ledge.
It’s unfortunate, because feelings change everything forever. When only one party has the feelings, someone gets hurt. (He has definitely kept me at an arm’s length…but I didn’t know we were going to have this kind of relationship. I thought we might fall in love and be best friends…apparently he didn’t.)
It is really important if you decide to have an NSA FB – you have to establish that status from the very beginning…you can’t transition in and out of that status. When you establish the status, both parties need to know or be reminded of the rules of this type of relationship.
I knew this…I really did…here is what I said in 2011 about it: ********************************
Dating for sex is different and should be kept separate. I think this is perfectly acceptable provided you keep yourself safe. Be straightforward about it – don’t be afraid to say “I have no interest in a relationship right now, I am looking for a sexual tryst only”. I do recommend if you would like to do this, you make the rules clear and follow the rules yourself. A good, reliable “fuckbuddy” is a great thing. Particularly if you are experimenting with some wilder aspects of your sexuality previously uncharted.
The rules for me with a fuckbuddy are:
#1 You have to be very clear your only intention is fantastic through the roof orgasmic sex.
#2 No texting or calling to say, “how was your day?” or any of that bullshit – texts or calls should be for the purpose of scheduling fuck time or talking dirty to each other about the scheduled “date”.
#3 There is no obligation to text, call or see any number of times or at specific times. There is no obligation for anything other than meeting at agreed upon times for good sex.
#4 No sleepovers. When sex is over there is no obligation for cuddling, small talk and sleeping over. Don’t do household chores together or watch TV (unless it’s porn). This is not a “relationship” – this is sex.
#5 No expectations – there cannot be any expectation of how long the “buddyship” will last, pre-agreed no hard feelings if someone can’t meet or needs to break it off because they got involved with someone else and wants to see where it goes.
#6 No meeting of the person’s friends, family or co-workers.
#7 Honesty without judgment. Agree to explore things of interest without judgment and with respect for one another (i.e., if you say stop, he has to stop and vice versa).
#8 Keep personal stuff to a minimum. Occasionally you will end up sharing some tidbit of what’s going on in your life or work and occasionally they will offer some insight only someone completely removed from the situation can offer. That kind of honesty can be invaluable.
#9 No Whining, no complaining, no clinging, no hard feelings, no attachment. This number is especially hard for most women. So let me repeat…No whining…no complaining…absolutely no clingy behavior…no hard feelings (it’s not a friendship or a real relationship) …and no attachment. Keep it simple, straightforward and fun. Ask for honesty and give it. Keep it sexy. It boosts your confidence, adds to your skills and knowledge, and is fun when executed following the rules.
#10 When it’s over – be done. It’s not a “relationship” the way we know them. It’s recreational sex with the same person. When it’s over let it go, don’t text, don’t call, don’t “FaceBook stalk”. Find a new one. You may have to go through a few before you find your “fuckbuddy soulmate”. Understand this is never meant to be a permanent thing. It will end and that’s okay. Maybe it ends because you found “the one” and are now going to fuck them instead. Meanwhile you are having fun and expanding your knowledge and experience base and hopefully reducing stress!
Cake and sex. I found myself referencing this phrase often this month. Every time I over-analyze and go deep only to hit a roadblock, I come back to “if that’s all there is why don’t we just eat cake and have sex all day then?” Get the joy we can in the moment – if the rest is unpredictable and out of control and beyond our scope. I love conversation or thought that causes us to question who we think we are or a limiting belief we may have about something. Limits can be used to help us define ourselves but also prevent growth and expansion into our unrealized potential. The challenging of them feels good to me.
I have interacted with so many people in the last month…gone on a lot of first dates…had a couple second dates…worked for a living…handled a disaster response for the non-profit humanitarian organization I volunteer for (53 units, 141 people displaced), lost money investing in crypto…eventful month. Feel free to skip this post – I’m just rolling it out to keep things straight in my own head. Quick recap…
It started with Costco Mark (aka big box store sized douchebag) first and last date. Dr. Conspiracy and Rude Richard – ended before first date time waste.
Coffee date with Motorcycle Bob made during wine consumption self-pity evening, another coffee date with someone named Mehmet – Turkish man Uber driving his way through life here (was this made during wine consumption also?). Coffee date with Bruce (aka Brucifer)– which had tons of sexual chemistry and got really handsy…only to have him tell me we were “done” a few hours later because of something really stupid. Thinking I dodged a really bad relationship bullet there since he got so hostile and aggressive (he frightened me).
Shane (aka Boat Boy) coffee and bookstore…looked like might be going somewhere and I would have jumped his bones but he promptly left town for two weeks. I did challenge him to interact with his family differently…just send them love and give them love instead of debating their religious paradigms (my bad…too soon?). Drummer Jon is a continual email interaction…really getting to know him slowly…it will be interesting if and when we meet.
Then there was Howard…first date breakfast, he told me he would be in a big blue van…I almost turned around and went back home (I am a visual person all I could picture was a vintage 1980 blue van which for some reason I instantly thought he might be living in…LOL). Then it turned out it was a Mercedes Sprinter for his business – small sigh of relief…until he was rude to waitstaff – which I am never on board with…I wrote it off to nervousness (I am way too nice), then second date at super expensive waterfront restaurant where he became a superbly shocking dickhead. I stayed until I finished my $85 steak and my very nice wine…because, hello…not going to waste that good shit over his poor manners and bad attitude – we could not “un-match” each other fast enough after dinner (and I don’t think the waitress he was coming on to really hard was impressed either). This asshole told me because men in my life had worked for me, I had to be some kind of controlling bitch (I assure you – I am NOT. I am nice as fucking pie…I did not “make” them work for me…they chose to – wanted to!).
Brucifer 2nd chance…so much sexual chemistry…phone sex then silence – moving on, thanks anyway. Boat Boy – Second date (back in town Woo-hoo!) …well-traveled, interesting but super vanilla (maybe I could fix this? Geez…famous last words), cooked for me on his boat – which was sweet. We have such great intellectual conversations they are almost as satisfying as sex.
My NSA FB interspersed throughout the month to keep me pulled together (well, as much as possible). My nickname for him used to be “Hotel Boy” but not anymore…he is definitely not a “boy”. NSA FB seems so impersonal. He needs a new nickname. I have such a fondness and appreciation for him…
Paul…I have photographic proof not all Asian men have small dicks as I was previously told. Today I have two new interactions beginning…we will see how they play out. G1 is really smart and seems to instantly “get” me. G2 seems worldly, not vanilla and Buddhist…that may be a really good match.
All in all, although I was whiney as fuck (sorry), I did keep my pants on most of the time (Yay me!). I had some really great, meaningful conversations. I had some really dumb ones too – LOL. I will attempt to be less whiney and ridiculous in May – No promises because people still exhaust me, and I find most of them very difficult to understand why they do what they do….maybe we should all just eat cake and have sex.
Trying to date (and the dating website) is killing my self-esteem.
Prior to getting on the dating site, I felt okay about myself. I am a strong woman. I have run my own businesses since I started my first at 15 years old. I’m smart. I don’t have a PhD, but I have intelligence. I’m attractive. I’m not 26 – I’m 56, but I’m still attractive. I’ve been told by others I am even “sexy”. I would like more of a defined waist and a flatter tummy – but I haven’t devoted any time to those things because there are more important things to do. I have survived a whole lot of “life” stuff and come out the other side still optimistic and good-natured. I am very sensuous. I love sex and I’m actually maybe a little good at it. I can cook. I read, I write, I think, I communicate. I’m a kind person. I give money to homeless people. I volunteer for a nonprofit humanitarian organization in three different positions while running two businesses and supporting myself. I can be funny and warm. I can be analytical and sometimes wise. I have a positive outlook, mostly sunny disposition and am quite easy to get along with. I’m a fucking peach!
Once I get past the men that seriously look 100 years old…I’m sorry – not shallow – but my partner died (who was only 47). I don’t want someone who looks like they may drop dead today. I just can’t do that again. Next, I try to find some glimmer of intelligence in their profiles. Some are just loaded with look at the fish I caught pics and all their love of sports teams. Seriously guys – are you looking for a woman or a man? I’m supposed to be attracted to you because you love watching sports? Or be irresistibly attracted to you because you know how to kill things and pose with them? Maybe a dude would appreciate those things? Once I weed out those I can’t see myself with…ever…and then weed out the ones I can’t have a conversation with, that leaves just a relative “handful” of potential options.
Of those potential options, oy vey…these are the people who have a million preconceived notions, criteria, opinions, and issues. These are the guys who make me feel bad because I don’t rock climb, don’t eat a Paleo-Pescatarian-Keto diet, don’t have a flat enough stomach, don’t have my retirement squared away, don’t golf…apparently it is also unacceptable for me to have my adult daughter living with me. Apparently it’s a bad thing that the men in my life have worked for me also – per last night’s “date “, that is a sign I am some sort of “controlling bitch”. These guys tell me all the ways I am not enough. Not pretty enough, not fit enough, not anything enough. These guys want you to be fit but not spend all your time at the gym (where you might meet other men and not pay attention to them). They want you to be available to them at any moment yet won’t be available to you without appropriate notice. They want you to be basically a virgin who is also really good at sex and enjoy sex but only with them…ever…in your entire life. They want you to be independent and pay for your own meals, yet don’t want you to have a job that may make you less available when they want you.
I have made concessions in my expectations. I have made allowances in an attempt to make a connection – I don’t expect perfection. Even with my making concessions, I am not enough for these assholes. It makes me want to say, “You don’t even realize I am out of your league and making concessions for YOU”.
Last week I even opened my dating parameters to include women. That hasn’t really even helped. Again, making concessions here….it’s fucking depressing. Meanwhile each time someone finds another way that “I am not enough” it breaks me down a little more.
I still have my NSA fuck buddy, whom I really appreciate to keep me tuned up that way – but again no real relationship…sex only (which is better than nothing) but why am I not enough for him either? If I was, we would have more than a sexual relationship. He says he “isn’t ready for a relationship” but I see him active on the dating site. If he “isn’t ready” and having his physical needs met, why is he still there? Clearly, because I am “not enough”. Yet, somehow always “too much” as well.
Here is what my profile says…is there something wrong with it that makes people asshole-ish to me?
I am open to any and all suggestions to make it better.
Stuck in Groundhog Day…of first dates. Each one I have renewed hope. Hope for a connection…real meaning…potential “future”.
It’s getting kind of comical. Each one I try something different for a different outcome – just like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. Each one becomes it’s own little first date disaster.
I have actually done some pretty “out there” things in hopes of a different outcome. The difference is each person on the first date with me is a different person – rather than repeating with the same person of course – so I must look a little nuts to the outside world.
I just want to know…where is the authenticity? At what age can the “rules” of dating go out the fucking window and you just get to be “real” and follow your joy? At what age do people start respecting “realness” and quit trying to judge you for everything instead of just accept and enjoy who you are? I feel myself getting more and more accepting that there may be no one for me. I’m not sure that is a good thing. There is a difference between a healthy level of IDGAF-ness and jaded pessimism.
The on-line dating shit show continues….
Last night was fun for about a minute. There is no long term potential for a couple of reasons. Maybe I’m just feeling dismissed and pouty…and I don’t really want to talk about it right now. I will come back to it another day.
Then bright and early this morning I get an email from someone I talked to for a little bit…he says “It sounds like you are a sincere person, but I don’t sense a future here. You should try to be fun, playful, flirty, humorous and vulnerable. Best of luck to you – Richard” Really Richard – Fuck you…LOL I am all those things you just never got there with me. Even my fucking blog is fun, flirty, sometimes humorous and always vulnerable…you probably couldn’t even handle all that I am. And by the way Richard, I will continue to say ‘Whoo Hoo” every fucking chance I get – even though you have told me it is not “an appropriate response to anything”.
Another guy was texting me when I was on my date last night. I did not respond – that would be rude. I give my attention to the person in front of me. He was getting more and more upset and continued that this morning. I decided not to respond last night – it isn’t his business where I was or why I didn’t text back immediately. I needed to cut him loose anyway – kind of regretting moving him into my phone and not just on the site. He is well educated – has a PhD, but also thinks COVID is a conspiracy. I just can’t…I don’t want to debate death. Thank goodness this came out before we met face to face. (Mental note made…PhD does not equal safe and sane)
God this shit makes me tired. I never have enjoyed a circus. Except for Fremont Circus (which doesn’t exist anymore) – that was a really cool sexy indoor circus.
This morning I had to go and accept and award for volunteer work in the community – which is cool – but timing is bad. I had a thing taken off my face yesterday totally forgetting I needed to be photographed and videoed…I said “Sorry about the band-aid on my face. This is about volunteering though and not about me being cute – right?” And laughed. What can you do? It will now be recorded for posterity…future generations will say “What happened to her face? Poor dear.”
(Someone should tell me how to find filters so my eyes would look better. This pic looks a little demonic)
I am also disappointed to realize there is still very much a double standard when it comes to expressing sexuality. Men can be open about wanting and needing sex…and having sex. Women are judged harshly for the same exact thing. “Slut shaming” is alive and well in Seattle. As a fucking adult, I should be able to express myself in the most appropriate way for me – without feeling fucking guilty. That is one thing the kink community has over “mainstream” community. The kinky friends will love you no matter what. I now have not had any more sex for the last 13 days…Too fucking long a time… Thank you NSA fuck buddy for scheduling to accommodate me in the next couple days…I will hang on and try not to hurt someone.
This is my new coffee cup. It makes me happy. Sorry to be so cranky today (it has to be in part due to not enough sex!)…the weekend is here – “Whoo Hoo!” (Fuck you “Richard”)
I am dancing in the kitchen listening to Elle King and making candied thick cut bacon on a stick. Why? because bacon on a stick is fucking good 🙂
So far today I have finished 2 books, researched crypto currency (note – no one ever should tell a visual person they are “balls deep” in something…I just can’t get the image to go away….), bought some, had phone sex (because why not?), ordered groceries, danced…candied bacon…and it’s not yet 9am. Productivity at it’s finest.
Why is my phone so spastic and just bad? Text conversation today T: “Women’s sexy clothing is kinda self bondage” Me: “True. Especially the shoes. I’m not sure Ben appreciate it enough to make it worth the effort.” Me: “MEN not Ben – I don’t know Ben.”
Hosting an outdoor, socially distanced birthday celebration for my youngest daughter’s partner Julia today. That should keep me out of trouble for the afternoon 😉
Potentially great idea? If I need to go back on a dating site, instead of long introduction trying to have the right balance of sane and sexy, smart but not intimidating “stuff” – how about this?
Highly sexual, sometimes kinky INTJ (Looking for whatever is of interest to her, but likely a final LTR) Submit application and Resume. I will get back to you.
Maybe it would weed out the weak and stupid in some Darwinian way? Let the cream rise to the top?
Side note: Really appreciating Instacart lately. Order groceries in the middle of the night – they show up like magic. Makes me happy.
I feel sooo much lighter! I just went in and figured out how to completely cancel the dating app (vs just being invisible)…it’s okay I paid too much for being there for 3 weeks (don’t offer a woman a discount for 3 or 6 months – it’s just rude).
I’m doing my dorky happy dance and channeling my inner Anna Kendrick.
I made one really good friend. We will stay friends. And I will be his wing woman when he needs it. We didn’t match perfectly kink wise but I love him as a friend…he is just as messy and complicated as me (but smarter).
I have a standing NSA fuck buddy whenever I need/want it. We will stay friends. My new “Daddy”. Way smarter and wiser than me…I adore him.
And by some miracle, I have a real potential person that might work out that I am super excited about. I will do my best not to fuck up building on that potential.
Please, please, please let me never ever go back there to dating app hell.
I know I’m up, I’m down – I’m everywhere. Knowing me is a fucking roller coaster when I try to be social. “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” I’m a classic. A walking, talking, breathing contradiction. It’s okay – the whiplash will grow on you 🙂
String theory would be my friend today – or so I thought…today everything has a double meaning. “Two particles interact – they slam together – and cause the path of each to be deflected.” Even science isn’t making me feel better. It’s fucking with me too. I tried to distract myself from the icky feelings I created being mentally and emotionally naked in front of a stranger. I had a weird intersection of real life and anonymous blog life. Bad idea.
It’s not safe for a woman like me – out in the real world with shields down. ”Un-matched”, “Deleted”. I am okay alone, I just thought it would be nice to have company again. I miss having a partner. I am too much. Always. Too much, too soon, too fast. I’m over-reacting. I can’t help it if it hurts deeply. It’s a lifetime of not being understood and being misunderstood. It’s cumulative you know. Plus I have been on figurative tilt for several weeks now because of the stupid dating site.
So much stupidity out there. I’m better off to shut it down again…back into “time out” …the sexual desire will stop if I ignore it and don’t feed it. I need to just not kiss anyone or let them touch me. There are enough books and articles on this planet to sustain my mind for the time I have left. I will sign up for another disaster relief operation for my heart. Helping others is good. Hurricane season is coming…I will position myself to be ready to go. I will do what I can to make the world a better place for other people. I will show kindness and compassion even if no one gives it back.
Maybe it was a bad idea to try to engage socially again. I need to just stick to the arm’s length interactions with people who think they know me but really don’t. They only know the small slice I let them see. This blog needs deleting. It hurts to be authentic. One of my friends who does really know me said I just need to slow down. Try to follow the rules of dating. I act like a tornado. And a hurricane. At the same time…during a blizzard. I’m too intense.
I hear myself telling myself “happiness is a choice – remember…you wrote about that quite a lot”. Maybe that was bullshit. Maybe it was to get me through a really fucked up thing or twenty.
It’s the human interaction on the “feeling” level that always fucking breaks me. When will I learn? Stay in my lane – stick with the logic and the distance. I know I’m not “undesirable” as far as the opposite sex is concerned…but I sure am unlovable it seems. Every time I put myself out there, I end up harder and tougher. Maybe I will finally get it through my head not to put myself out there at all.
I just don’t belong out in the world interacting with normal people…Heavy sigh.
**Update. Overthinking strikes again. He didn’t knowingly delete me.(BS?) I’m just going to leave this right here to remind myself of the perils of overthinking and jumping to conclusions. What would I want someone to do if the situation were reversed? I would say “just fucking ask me”. Next time I will. **2nd update – he ended up ghosting me.
So…another issue on my mind. Clarity around ways of having sex or types of sex. Here is some stuff I found when I did a quick google of “difference between having sex and fucking”:
MAKING LOVE: Tender, slow, usually missionary or cowgirl positions, lots of eye contact and whispering about feelings.
FUCKING: Animalistic, hard, rough. Doggy-style or missionary positions preferred. Hair-pulling and back-scratching encouraged. This isn’t about feelings, it’s about pleasure.
HAVING SEX: Anything that’s not one of the first two. Can be anywhere from soft to hard, but really having sex is about exploration. This is where you play games, explore fantasies, and tease, tease, tease. All positions included, the more complex the better.
Another way to say it: You fuck with your body, you make love with your heart, but you have sex with your mind.
Well, as far as “making love” goes, I don’t really want to whisper about “feelings” (besides I do have some hearing loss in my left ear so I may not hear you – bad story for another day). But I do get the sentiment and it’s fine on occasion if it makes my partner happy or maybe we are tired and just wanting a lovely, soft exchange. I’m down.
Fucking, yes. I do like that…a lot. Any and all positions…back-scratching?! Not sure about that…LOL
Having sex other than the first two, yep. I’m down with that also. Exploration/experimentation is fun.
I guess the takeaway is, for many sex is an expression of love. For me it’s more. Or can be. It’s a full on mind/body meld when it’s ”right” or it can just be an expression of a moment in time in all it’s glory, passion and “nowness” – with or without “love”. Sex is one of the few times I can stop thinking if I choose and just “be” in the physical pleasure of it – which is kind of nice when a girl is in her head all the time.
I guess I like people to know how to do them all. (And the ones that make me even stop to think about it).
Occasionally I am a smart ass. I never mean it in a mean way…these dating sites, Holy cow I just have so much to say. I swipe left or click the “x” over and over again…so many times. I see so much ridiculousness. I even put some tips for guys on my profile – simple stuff like “Don’t take your selfie from down low giving yourself 14 chins” and “Don’t simply respond to someone with one-word answers. Show some interest and maybe ask a question.” You know this stuff seems like common sense to me, not rocket science.
Every day I do check my “matches” and also see who had “liked” me. Just in case…you know fireworks could happen and I could instantly recognize my soul mate staring back at me…so I have to look. No info…swipe left. Never been married (at 65?!) …something is wrong there…swipe left. You get the idea. We are sifting and sorting, so you come up with a shorthand rather than reading every profile (when there is even information to read). Yesterday some guy who “liked” me also included a little message “I think I might like you.” This made me laugh. I thought “Hmm either he is very honest or really has no clue what to say” because that is something I might say in an honest way – like “I’m bookmarking you right here because something about you says I might like you but I’m not quite sure yet”. FYI – it’s really best to keep those words in your head I’ve found.
I decided to go ahead and look at his profile – although that can be risky because occasionally after you look at someone’s profile, they start grilling you about why you looked, why you haven’t spoken to them…it just gets awkward. The guy really has nothing to say. Interests are “women”, Status “Divorced”, lots of pictures…okay, I will look. What can I learn about Mr. Nothing to Say through his photos…So many group shots…okay he wants me to know he has friends. Lots of mountains…okay that makes a little sense based on where he lives. Uh Oh – Really bad selfie. Taken in what is clearly a public men’s room with eyeglasses in his mouth (no other photo shows glasses -whose glasses are these?).
I messaged him back. “Hi. The bathroom selfie, you should delete it. LOL” He responds back “Thanks for the tip, let me look.” Then, “WTH! I thought that was my best picture! Enlighten me please, is it the location or something else?” So, I decide to just be helpful and explain some things…
“Something about the men’s room – the urinal and the stall in the background – it’s just not sexy. I “X” so many profiles, once in a while I just decide to be helpful. You are a handsome guy…looking fairly sexy…there are certain things that will make a woman say “No, Thank You” quickly so I’m just trying to help. Trust me – the bathroom selfie needs to go. Another example is if someone looks like Santa – that’s a “no, thank you”. If a guy looks like he lives with his mother – “no, thank you”. Sounds so super sadly desperate and needs to spend some time with his own hand before coming out into the real world again – “no, thank you”. Huge fish…what am I supposed to feel about this? Get ready to cook or wow you can provide fresh seafood for me in event of a zombie apocalypse? “No thanks”. Yep, BIG motorcycle…most likely small something else – “no, thank you”. You have to decide what type of woman you are going for and then “sell” to her. For instance, the fastest way into a smart woman’s panties is through her mind. If you want a dumb one the fastest way to her panties is with “stuff” or sympathy (direction to choose depending upon your longer-term goal).
He responds with “I have my own reasons why I choose to pursue the people I do, but there is a code among men that won’t allow me to detail it as you have.” I say “Okay – LOL…understood. I had a few minutes so I’m just trying to help a guy out.” He replied back “Well, you are obviously a lot smarter than I. Am I dismissed now? Clearly we have a conflict of interest.” …Geez Louise. Everybody needs to lighten the fuck up!! I was being a smart ass! There is some truth in there too…And you actually have to have some “interest” before there can be a conflict of interest (pun intended).
Lovely Sunday morning…I am so contented this morning. There is nothing better that I can think of right at this moment than 4 or 5 hours of blissful, highly orgasmic sex…a wonderful way to spend an afternoon…or evening…or morning…or any time.
I am not a religious woman – but Thank you God or the Universe or whomever there are men who understand how to do this. Multi-hour, multi-orgasmic pleasure for both parties.
In the middle of the night, I was awake again thinking about sex and relationships and dating. I am super sexual. This IS an issue…It does come in waves. I mean, I am always very sexual, but there are times when I am over the top super sexual – a man has got to be able to ride those waves.
I said it somewhere else in this blog a few years ago, we need to start a male sexual revolution. Trust me – a man can come more than once. With edging, a man can really teach himself to be a great fuck. (There are some other tricks too, but if I told you I’d have to kill you).
That can go a really long way in a relationship. You are not going to toss a man back because he annoys you with little things he does if he is great in bed. Great sex makes you more tolerant and also more patient. This thought to be continued…
I have recently discovered there are different types of Doms. Apparently, the rest of the world knows this, I have found after some googling…
Many times I have declared “he’s not really a Dom” after an encounter only because he wasn’t the type I expected or didn’t express his dominance the way I prefer. There are also layers of skill to dominating. I’m not sure there is enough research or talk about the skill required to be good. A good Dom should care the sub has pleasure also. They should know how to extract the pleasure from the sub who is trying so earnestly to meet the needs of the Dom – that creates a level of loyalty/commitment and cements those submissive acts into pleasure linked synapses. When I have flipped the script and dominated, I took great pride and joy from making my temporary sub feel enormous pleasure in being dominated…(the kind of pleasure they will look back on with a little embarrassment and a lot of happiness).
There are Alpha doms, soft-core doms, sadistic doms, daddy doms, Master doms…the list goes on. Of course there are varying degrees of each type as well. It’s basically a “dom buffet” out there if you figure out where to look. (I also should remember to be really careful saying I want one, because the wrong dom will make me fight like a hell cat I’m quite certain and that would not be a happy time for anyone involved.)
Any dominant should treat the submission they are given as a valuable gift. Taking it for granted is not a good idea. I have also discovered the term “submissive” is not a “one size fits all” label either. Service submissive (hello 24 year fucking marriage of service-duh. I even ironed his shirts daily), Sexual submissive, Forced Submissive, Smart-assed Masochist, Littles, Slaves, Furries, Primals, Pro, etc. and all them of course come in varying degrees.
I think…maybe…since we are all unique, maybe each person is their own little “cocktail”. A mix of one part this, two parts that. (I might be two parts sexual sub, one part smart-assed masochist, with a side of little) I think it may change for different times in your life too. I’m quite sure I used to be three parts service and one-part sexual sub.
I’m also trying to wrap my brain around the difference between kink and fetish. From what I gather, kink is an activity or behavior one enjoys outside of the “norm”. A fetish appears to be a thing or act that is required for arousal. I have “fetishy” days (yes, it’s a word – I just used it), but I think I am more kinky that fetishy.
The trick is finding the partner you can communicate with to get the right balance and mix for optimum relationship longevity and bliss. I guess the point is we are all snowflakes and need to appreciate the uniqueness in ourselves and others.
Ethical non-monogamy (ENM). There have been multiple periods of time in my life when this was absolutely the best choice, as it is right now. Point of clarity: ENM is the most honest and authentic expression of my situation at this moment. I really do want to once again find my “home”, my “person”, my one “safest and best spot to land”. I want my last love. I love that connectedness of one on one – I do really miss it. But until I have it again, – I have to operate in ENM authenticity. Here is what I had to say about it a few years ago
Let’s face it, if we are not in a “singular committed monogamous relationship” at this moment, then we are in some sort of non-monogamous posture. We will stop and admire every bright and shiny object. It is human nature. So, if you are single and dating…you are non-monogamous at this moment in time.
I guess some people will date around and will act with each one like they are the only one. Why start any relationship (or tolerate one) with dishonesty? Just be honest. (I will be honestly non-monogamous until the right person comes along – at which time, it will be my choice to be monogamous again – not society’s or my partner’s.)
Ethical comes from the Greek ethos “moral character” and describes a person or behavior as right in the moral sense – truthful, fair, and honest.
There are lots of types of non-monogamy (See cool funny reference chart below stolen from someone online) and there are many reasons for choosing non-monogamy. But the point is to be your authentic self – whatever that looks like – and when you are being authentic, honesty is a natural by-product.
The problem lies in the “ethical” part of the equation. Being human, sometimes we fear confrontation with those we care about. We feel that by telling the truth – the whole truth – we will hurt them. If everyone understands the “rules” or expectations of the ENM relationship, we are empowered by the whole truth, not hurt by it. Most often the negative feeling that arises from “the truth” is jealousy. There are a couple of things (or many things) I have to say about that…
1) You are responsible for your own feelings.
2) If you are in a relationship of some sort with this person, you matter to them on some level. You will not stop mattering to them just because others matter to them also.
3) If you care about this person, you want them to be happy also. And their happiness can make you happy (compersion).
4) You and your partner(s) should define the “rules” or expectations within your relationship.
“Compersion” is loosely defined as the opposite of jealousy. Instead of feeling upset, angry, sad or threatened when a partner romantically or sexually interacts with another person – you feel a sense of happiness for them. You feel “empathetic joy”. You are joyful for the other person for things that have nothing to do with you. (Kind of like when someone you care about gets a new job or a promotion or gets married – you are genuinely happy for them). The Sanskrit word for it is mudita, it is one of a core pillars of Buddhism (and one of the hardest to master). We have been trained to protect our “love” relationships and have organized our entire society around monogamy, so learning not to be jealous takes conscious practice. We will still feel jealous from time to time. It won’t really hold any power over us if we can talk it through with our partners and they can reassure us we do still matter to them and everything is okay.
We do have the ability to feel love for more than one person at a time. Love expands. Think of the number of friends you have, or the number of children you have – there is never less love to go around because there are more people. It expands. You don’t say to one child – sorry all the love has been disbursed…none left for you! There is always more. It is one of the few things that is not finite.
To make ENM work it requires good communication. I have to be able to say where I’m going, who I’m sleeping with, what I’m doing – without a freak out. My partner(s) have to be able to do the same when filling me in – no judgement, no freak out, no controlling issues…Honest, open, judgement-free sharing of thoughts and feelings.
It also sometimes requires a color-coded calendar…but let’s face it – I’m a geek and will jump at the opportunity to color code some shit! It requires the participants to act like adults and to show care, concern, compassion and empathy for their partners…but shouldn’t we actually be doing that anyway?
“Sub-drop” (or the loss of endorphin high and subsequent “down” feelings from really good sex) is real. I forgot about its existence. It’s been a minute (or more precisely 2,102,400 minutes – give or take…)
I cannot feel happy and sad at the same time. How I feel is a choice of focus. Everything is okay. All is well. The Universe has my back (and sides and front and all of me….). When in total doubt about how to move into a better thought, distract yourself for a moment – have another orgasm…then choose a different thought and dance in the kitchen.
Every once in a while, I should take my own advice and listen to the shit I tell other people. Here is my own quote:
“We were born as blissful little creatures full of source energy, perfect in every way, to create and have fun creating a life filled with love, happiness and to grow and expand our consciousness. You were born perfect. Or more precisely “perfectly imperfect”. You are a divine manifestation of the universe. To treat yourself or anyone else as less than that is ridiculous. You are divine. Get used to it. Love yourself. Be happy.“
“When your life is ripped away, you have a choice. You can fight it, resist it, deny it and make all of it even more painful than it already is – or you can just surrender and release your expectation of how you feel it should be. Go with the flow of it. Trust yourself. Trust the Universe. Trust and just see where the non-resistant letting go takes you.“
“We all have a responsibility to each other. We are supposed to participate in the co-creation of our world and what we do affects the collective consciousness of the planet and all of us expand to better versions of ourselves. When you are happy, coming from a place of contribution with inspired thought and inspired action, you make the world a better place. What you do matters. “
I am once again surrendering. Trusting all is well. Submitting to the Universe.
Okay here we go. This most likely won’t make sense to anyone but me. I woke up this morning from a deep sleep in a boom – all of a sudden – sit straight up – flash of knowledge. In my sleep I was floating, he was holding me gently through the currents of emotion. Rock steady safety during whitewater emotion. I see that as his purpose. Calm assertive. Not pain centered but emotion centered. Wednesday full-on sex fest – so many orgasms…emotional dam breaks – crying (not my style). Thursday courage to write, think and analyze things I have never said out loud before (post called – Why I don’t know how to date). I had the free space to do it because of the emotional release. Writing it was cathartic and healing to some degree and also provided the mental framework for me to understand some of my own actions. But the epiphany I had, was the purpose (at least for me) of him is to have that rock steady, solid, hold me safely guidance through emotional white water. I don’t always have to tough out and gut out everything on my own. In my dream, he was there – just calm and assertive, holding my head above water – keeping me safe in the rush.
What does it mean to “date”? What is it supposed to look like? The official definition of “date” (as it relates to personal interaction) is “a social meeting planned before it happens, especially between two people who have or might have a romantic relationship”, “a person you have a romantic meeting with”. Okay – I guess I “do” that…maybe…kind of…if you stretch the definition to its limits….(I make sex dates). So, what is the definition of “romantic”? It is “conducive to or characterized by the expression of love”. Hmm. Love? I thought it was just a date. Now here we are throwing around the fucking L word!?!
Someone asked me “Why don’t you just date a while and not do things like meet a stranger at a hotel?” That is a perfectly reasonable question. Why do I not know how to date? I would like to figure this out.
Prepare for serious oversharing that is really just for my own soul. I’m sorting this out by analyzing out loud. Don’t read this – just go back to whatever you were doing before.
The normal “dating age” I would guess is maybe age 13 or 14 to age 100 (or happily settled for the rest of time or dead – whichever comes first). When I was 11, I can remember having crushes on boys…a boy named Taylor with braces, then a boy named Barry – we used to get our parents to drop us off at the roller-skating rink every Friday and Saturday nights and we would spend a lot of time kissing in a corner (we were “going out” according to our classmates). My family moved a lot (18 times in 11 years), so I would have to tell boys “Bye – I’m moving to another state now” and I would be gone. No closure. No break ups – just moved away.
One day when I was 12, I woke up with huge boobs. It probably didn’t really happen overnight; I just wasn’t aware of them until one day I started getting a lot of attention. I mean a lot of attention. Older boys on the bus trying to grope and asking me lewd questions. Adult men started being inappropriate. My own stepfather was getting extra weird too. Girls at school started getting upset with me and told me I needed a bra. My parents would not buy me one – my stepfather said it wasn’t good for me and would weaken muscles. Finally, some girl at school gave me one that was about 4 sizes too small and kind of held me down a little and I wore it everywhere (picture tiny white cloth band aid over huge boobs…ugh). This was happening at the same time I was becoming aware of and trying sort out my parents’ BDSM and swinger tendencies. I was trying to understand how punishments I got for being a “bad kid” with a lewd, kind of pervy feeling stepdad were different from the BDSM stuff I was becoming aware of. Also happening was a policeman my mom was having sex with (with stepdad’s knowledge and consent), became a regular around the house and every time my folks were gone or asleep, Bud’s hands were all over me. Moved again….
Age 13, I was just trying to hide my boobs because I really didn’t know how to handle the attention they brought. I tried to find moments of privacy for my new body, but it wasn’t allowed. I wasn’t allowed to lock the bathroom door to have a shower or a bath and my stepdad was allowed to come in and have a chat while I bathed. If I got upset or complained or in any way acted like it was not perfectly normal or acceptable, I would be severely punished. We moved again.
Age 14 started school in a new place again and had to make new friends. All the kids in my neighborhood were a few years older, but it seemed like I fit in anyway because I had moved so much, I guess it made me more mature. And as we already know, my boobs were mature. I had a Southern accent that I was working on losing, was really still naïve about so many things, and was still used to kind of “being a kid” and doing farm girl things (jumping on horses and playing cowboys and Indians, arm wrestling, thumb wrestling, goofing around in general). One day, while out with a group of boys from this new neighborhood, walking through dense wooded areas between towns (which is something we all did fairly frequently for some reason) we stopped in a clearing. Some of the boys were smoking a joint, a couple had beers. Once of the boys challenged me to a “wrestle”. I had seriously just learned a couple moves in gym class and I thought that’s what he meant – I was actually excited to show my skill. Next thing I know I was on the ground, he had my pants off and was inside me. All I remember saying was “Ouch”. Then I asked him why did he do this and he indicated it was me, – that I had led him on – asked for it and that I had to know what my big boobs and Southern accent did to guys.
We moved again. Still 14, another new town. And now I wasn’t a virgin. I had to figure this thing out – what was this supposed to be like? Now that I was “ruined” anyway, I started initiating sex with every boy I had a crush on or looked like they might know the secret of sex. I had to figure out what is sex supposed to be like? When is it supposed to feel good? How is it supposed to feel good? So, at a time when maybe other girls were learning to “date”, I was crushing on and then fucking to try and understand. All the while still trying my absolute best to stay as far away as possible from my stepdad, because any misstep of any kind could immediately result in the most horrifying naked, punishing situations that I still couldn’t quite piece together the sexuality component of.
Moved again. Now 15 and depressed. Not understanding myself, my life, my relationships…My parents decided it might be best to get me some therapy to help with my “teenaged angst” – I think maybe the school guidance counselor had suggested it? The first dozen times I saw the therapist, I wouldn’t’ talk. Maybe I gave one-word answers or said “I don’t know” to questions asked. She told me she was not going to stop asking and I was in a safe place and could share. I finally told her I would write her a letter and we could see how that went. It seems writing has always been a “go to” for expressing myself. I wasn’t sure I could trust her, so I wasn’t going to tell her everything. I was thinking if I could write out the thing that confused me the most, since she was a therapist, she could answer my questions and give me insight into how to process and understand it. This “one thing” (which is really so multi-layered) involved my wanting to understand the ritualistic, sadistic naked punishments I received for seemingly random and unpredictable mistakes or missteps “for my own good” correction. Since I didn’t know the words “ritualistic or sadistic” yet, I just described how things would unfold. I included information about the sexual relationship of my parents and what I heard at night with their BDSM play and things I saw around. And wanted to understand how come every time I masturbated my mind went to punishment and how do I “fix” that. I was confused. I wanted clarity please – from a professional perspective. I gave her that letter. She read it and thanked me. She also looked like she was about to cry. I watched her take it to who I assumed was her boss. He read it and looked at me. They looked at each other. This is not what I expected. Trust already violated! She left my letter with him and came back to me and told me not to worry. Everything would be fine, and we will talk again next week. I was in panic mode now – I tried to tell her I thought this was like privileged information or something how she didn’t understand that this is not going to be okay.
I never saw her again. There were phone calls to my parents, some meeting scheduled where I was in the car, loud voices and stepdad threatening to “sue their asses off” and more phone calls where stepdad was telling them they would “lose their fucking licenses and they had no clue who they were dealing with”. We never spoke of this again (and I did my best to be invisible for quite a while because punishment for this offense could make me disappeared and dead – really that is how I felt. He was all powerful.) nor did they ever suggest therapy again. We moved.
Now 16, still fucking every crush, trying to understand when sex might get “good”. An accidental pregnancy and subsequent abortion – oops – forgot to learn about birth control. I dropped out of school my sophomore year and moved out of the house to get away from stepdad and create my own life. I focused on working and having an income to support myself and I occasionally had sex with an older co-worker – still looking to figure out why everyone liked sex. I thought that was dating. I did not go on regular “dates”, I had no one asking me out to go to dinner -well once, but I jumped his bones before we got there so we didn’t go – I had to know if he was the one that would make sex magic, so I would understand the allure people had for it. When I did end up in someone’s bed, I was now trying to get them to be rough and spank me or getting frustrated and dominating them in some way. Not going to college with people my own age (I went at night for a while after getting my GED), not working with people my own age, deciding to be career driven…I just did not date. I did not know how.
I got set up on a blind date at age 20 by a co-worker, because all I did was work all the time. The blind date had all sorts of red flags that I did not see because I did not know how to date. I fucked him, then married him because he had “potential” and I was now “old” and might be slated to spend the rest of my life alone in a condo full of cats. I tried to teach him what I needed in bed (and everywhere), to no avail. I was made to feel like I was not “normal”. That took up 24 precious years of my life.
During the divorce process, I tried to “date” but I still didn’t know how. So again, I did it all wrong. In an effort to meet my needs yet be somewhat “reasonable”, I dated differently than most. I had one person for sex only dates so I could try to keep my shit together for dinner dates and activity dates, but still occasionally thought dinner meant sex too. I was a hot fucking mess. My sex-only play date person, I now realize was very much a dom. We just never discussed it – he just met that need at that moment. I have not thought about that really – not until right now in this moment…but I am now realizing it wasn’t just rough sex like he said. The problem was he was going through his own divorce and I was just his plaything (and admittedly he was kind of mine). He didn’t really care about me and I knew it. I was in some way punishing myself for leaving my husband, the marriage contract and for being such a broken person I didn’t get very satisfied from “normal” sex. We were, in these encounters, just satisfying carnal need. And that is okay – but it isn’t “dating”.
I dropped all those people for another long-term relationship that again was not derived from normal “dating”. We met 2 days after my divorce was final – we connected mentally, spiritually, emotionally, and physically and I let everyone else fall away. He became whatever I needed him to, to meet all my needs. After he died, I still didn’t know how to date so I went back to trying to find different people for different things and mold and shape every lover into the “dom” I often think I need/want. Relationships were fast and intense. I don’t think that’s what “dating” looks like for most people. Sometimes I’m sex connection first – again maybe not what “normal” women do. I put myself in timeout for a couple years. I figured I was needing to do some internal work.
Now I am back out here again. Connecting. Needing to date – but not knowing how. How do people “date”? How do you go to dinner and not wonder what they taste like or if they’re rough enough? (Whoa just heard a piece of Rolling Stone’s song in my mind. “All I want for you to make love to me – Am I hard enough? – Am I rough enough?”)
How do you keep it “normal”?
I did recently have a “normal” dating experience… I think – maybe? Normalish? and quite frankly it made me feel more fucked up than usual. I drove to a different part of the state…and did not fall into bed with him. We had dinner – twice – with no sex, lunch – no sex. We didn’t even kiss. I have reasons. They are good ones. I was being a good human and making a conscious decision not to fuck someone up or fuck them over because I might be really bad news for a “normal” person. I did have to stop and fuck someone on the way home and get my powerful dom fix…and then a stranger in a hotel – and all this is basically within the last fucking week. And then there was the ex Buddhist monk too…I’m a train wreck. (Do NOT slut shame me in your mind. I have pent up needs).
It all started with a kiss and a mild hair pull. Then I realized I’ve been on a starvation diet for 2 1/2 years and have started filling the void at a scary speed due to the pent-up deprivation I feel. (It just occurred to me Robert benefitted from my 24-year marriage of pent-up deprivation…lucky guy he was…maybe why the relationship was so intensely good? Or a contributing factor?) I will put a pin in this thought…there has to be a silver lining somewhere?
Clearly, not only do I not know how to date, but I might be too fucked-up a person to date.
What’s a girl to do? I need to change this blog. I think it says things in it about “dating tips and advice”. I know nothing of those things! I’m a fraud in that regard.
A fucked in the head, broken, no dating, sex monster. I don’t really feel this monologue gave me any real answers today. I would go to therapy, but I’m pretty sure I would just fuck them…
One of the problems with deciding to date and find that “someone” to be in relationship with (vs organically finding a relationship when you weren’t looking), is the whole idea of what you focus on expands. When you make a decision to find a partner, you have to pay attention to and acknowledge you don’t have one. It’s like your life is a puzzle and there are some missing pieces – not that you aren’t “enough” on your own, because you technically are – but there is something lacking that you want or need on some level. Unfortunately, what you focus on expands and when you are a really good focuser, that expansion happens very quickly. As a result, the missing pieces feel bigger than usual.
With each interaction you are processing so many things and trying to do it quickly. Does this person have intelligence and intellect to have conversations that can expand your mind or at least keep you from being bored? What if you were stranded together on an island for an unknown period of time…would you get tired of talking with them? Are they overly obsessed about some facet of life that makes you feel inadequate or like you have to change yourself? Are you free to really be yourself with this person? Can they appreciate who you are as you are without wanting/needing to change you? (Everyone deserves to be loved and adored for who they really are) Do their puzzle pieces fill in your missing places? The act of sifting and sorting through people feels like I am turning them every which way trying to see what fits. It’s not fun. Some people enjoy this. Why don’t I?
I think it’s because it pushes me back to another space in life. I can walk around being happy and knowing that I am a really cool assortment of unique stuff that makes me “me” but when I start worrying about how others are viewing and interpreting me – that’s when the shit hits the fan and I start freaking out. What if no one else will ever think I am as awesome as my partner did? What if I’m not as awesome as I think I am? What if I never find someone who can just love and adore me again? Then I start to notice other couples and how happy they seem to be and how they talk about their partnership and it makes me ache. Even when someone talks about a failed partnership or a lost love, it makes me ache because I feel what they had and lost – like I had and lost. I really hate that feelings are a “thing”. They are so messy. Messy and uncontrollable. It makes me very uncomfortable. I guess I should clarify – it’s the negative feelings that are so uncomfortable. Of course, I enjoy the nice ones.
When you are experiencing the ugly feelings, you can come across as so needy and insecure and unworthy. Dating doesn’t feel good. This is the same shit that always sends me back into hiding in my work to ignore the missing pieces. Then there is also the other side, when someone is seeing if you are their missing puzzle pieces and you have to tell them you are not a good fit. As a woman, (I can’t speak from the male perspective here) there is always that moment where you could shape shift to become what the person wants of you. You have to decide if you want to lose yourself to someone else’s ideas. I don’t recommend it. Loosing yourself too long is dangerous. Besides, shape shifting pleases someone for a while but is never truly satisfying – especially to one who did the shifting. Maybe that’s just me – maybe not all women have to wrestle with that demon. I’m going to blame that on Southern influenced dysfunctional family “warp-age”.
Then there are other complexities. To truly find a great relationship, you have to click on so many levels – especially sex. There has to be chemistry. Actually, for me a weird mix of chemistry and mental connection. My logical brain wants to start making lists of the qualities I need and then figuring out to make a quick test to determine if a person has what’s needed. Hi – nice to meet you, please take this 5 minute quiz, then stare into my eyes for 30 seconds, touch me for 30 seconds in the way you think is the most sexy – Then step away for a moment while I check the quiz answers and I will have your “compatibility with me” answer. Easy – 15 minutes tops. I will either fall immediately, madly in love with you, worship the ground you walk on and want to jump your bones every day for the rest of forever or I will thank you for your time and wish you a nice life. Can you imagine? That would really freak some people out. Someone recently asked me some really cool questions. Those should be on the quiz. One was “What is the single most important thing you would want me to know if we were about to be intimate?” It caught me off guard. I have rethought the answer a few times now…still pondering.