I haven't written much lately on sexual deviance. My guess is that my fear is not as many people can relate. However upon reading a blog this morning that I follow, I was inspired to write a little on D/s relationships.
I have been involved in BDSM since high school (80s). No, I didn't don a whip and chains at that early age. However I can trace behaviors back to then and even prior to that, that show me how and when this all came into play for me.
I wont bore you with how I got to being the Mistress/Top/Daddy I am now 25 years later. We all have our own stories. And honestly, I try to avoid the all too common 'lets top the top' stories of the lifestyle.
One thing I do find important to discuss, is the role older more experienced lifestylers have to the newer less exposed players. It is vital that we take the time to show them the right way to treat people, and the way to expect to be treated. It is essential that we allow them the knowledge to make safe and sane decisions.
Long ago, before the Internet, you had to seek out your community. Physically. That played a HUGE part in how you learned the lifestyle. I think its fantastic that we have resources now to read and look at, but many new players are missing the foundation that BDSM is based on. Its based on dynamics and energy exchange. Not profiles and pictures and reading something you 'want to try'. Its based on experience handed down from the previous generation. Its based on handing down lessons learned from mistakes we made. You had to 'earn' your spot in the lifestyle then. Today, you just show up. And while its fantastic that the community has grown so quickly and so large, it presents so many opportunites to fall into the hands of someone that is not qualifeid to hold your trust and physical safe being in their possession.
Those of you that are new to the lifestyle (and I mean less than 10 years), seek out your elders. Educate yourselves. Ask questions. GET REFERENCES!!! Dont just show up at an event and expect everyone there to know what the hell they are doing. There is never a time in BDSM that you know everything. There is never a time we should stop learning. And there is never a time that a true lifestyler would fault you for asking and admitting 'you dont know'.
Anyone can learn how to tie you up. How to use the tools of the trade. How to humilate you and use typical phrases. Anyone.
Few know how to dance. Few know how to exchange energy equally. Few know that the bottom in the relationship is the true foundation.
D/s is only as good as those you share it with.
Honor yourself, no matter Top or bottom, and find a suitable partner. This is not a lifestyle in which settling is an option.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Butch Status
As many of you know, I don't wear any labels comfortably. Not because I don't want to, but because they never seem to fit.
Over the course of the past year, several people have referred to me as butch. A couple of them were truly just ignorant in terminology and lifestyle. Straight outsiders that assume if you aren't a lipstick lesbian you must be a butch. Someone has to 'be the man' right? Those people don't bother me. I am just glad that at least I can be the lesbian I am in their straight world.
However a few people lately have refereed to me as butch that I know are clearly in tune with that label, what it means, and who carries it. When they utter the word, I know it is coming from a place of experience. But it still baffles me. I know I have my butch moments. Don't get me wrong. I own a ton of t shirts and Harley boots. I am very comfortable fixing the car, building things, and 'taking care of the little woman'. I am a Daddy. During those moments, I would agree...100% butch.
But I don't wear that label because I am not that all the time. In all honesty I think it is unfair to the butches of the world that I adopt their label only part time.
I can be very feminine as well. I wear corsets and leather pants when the time is right. I wear a lot of knee high boots that don't have thick polished leather and big soles. I wear make up every day. However no one seems to label me then. I guess I just fit what people assume I am supposed to fit.
Most days I am a combination of the two. Always tough and hard, yet surprisingly soft and gentle.
So I don't think I can fairly claim butch status. But am fascinated by those that think I can.
Over the course of the past year, several people have referred to me as butch. A couple of them were truly just ignorant in terminology and lifestyle. Straight outsiders that assume if you aren't a lipstick lesbian you must be a butch. Someone has to 'be the man' right? Those people don't bother me. I am just glad that at least I can be the lesbian I am in their straight world.
However a few people lately have refereed to me as butch that I know are clearly in tune with that label, what it means, and who carries it. When they utter the word, I know it is coming from a place of experience. But it still baffles me. I know I have my butch moments. Don't get me wrong. I own a ton of t shirts and Harley boots. I am very comfortable fixing the car, building things, and 'taking care of the little woman'. I am a Daddy. During those moments, I would agree...100% butch.
But I don't wear that label because I am not that all the time. In all honesty I think it is unfair to the butches of the world that I adopt their label only part time.
I can be very feminine as well. I wear corsets and leather pants when the time is right. I wear a lot of knee high boots that don't have thick polished leather and big soles. I wear make up every day. However no one seems to label me then. I guess I just fit what people assume I am supposed to fit.
Most days I am a combination of the two. Always tough and hard, yet surprisingly soft and gentle.
So I don't think I can fairly claim butch status. But am fascinated by those that think I can.
Friday, May 28, 2010
My Girl
Driving home, my mind is always on you.
I find myself reliving memories, past and recent.
I allow myself to find you in my thoughts.
I catch the smile on my face in the mirror.
A sinister feeling washes over me.
It excites me that the other drivers have no idea what I'm thinking.
I am enamored by the many sides of you, the woman, the submissive, the child.
I am empowered by your trust and innocence.
I adore the things you only give to me.
I worship the raw moments and the dirty little secrets.
The familiar sounds and whimpers.
It calls out to me, each and every day.
A place only you can take me.
With someone only I know.
I find myself reliving memories, past and recent.
I allow myself to find you in my thoughts.
I catch the smile on my face in the mirror.
A sinister feeling washes over me.
It excites me that the other drivers have no idea what I'm thinking.
I am enamored by the many sides of you, the woman, the submissive, the child.
I am empowered by your trust and innocence.
I adore the things you only give to me.
I worship the raw moments and the dirty little secrets.
The familiar sounds and whimpers.
It calls out to me, each and every day.
A place only you can take me.
With someone only I know.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Dissassociating
I suffer from panic attacks. Lately they seem to be occurring more frequently than usual. I no longer take medication for them, I no longer take any psych medications at all. They were causing more harm to my body than they were doing good to my head. I have spent many years with therapists and reading material finding ways to combat these attacks and move on undetected. For the most part it works. They aren't as debilitating as they once were, and most people don't know I even suffer from them.
A common symptom of a spontaneous panic attack is disassociation, which includes depersonalization and derealisation. There is little information as to whether a panic attack brings these on, or these events trigger the panic attack. For me, I can say with almost complete certainty, its the disassociation that brings on the panic attack.
When someone dissassociates, they enter a trance like state. It has been noted that this is considered an 'ability' not a reflex response. Most people who 'suffer' from this have been dissassociating since childhood, but never even realize it. Apparently this ability affords the child a defense to remove themselves from certain situations.
Dissassocaiting for me is scary. Many people embrace the ability, I run from it. Hence the panic attack that it triggers. Physically, depersonalizing is frightening. The feeling that you are not 'inside' your own body is not as much fun as it sounds. "Seeing" yourself from the outside is strange to say the least. Add to that the physical manifestations of derealisation, such as being in a dream, not being 'connected' to your surroundings etc, and it all becomes an awful experience for me. Tunnel vision, perceptions that your body is massively larger or smaller than it is, seeing stationary objects move etc, are all things that occur during disassociating. Ironically, I used to pay good money for drugs back in the day just to feel this same way.
The point of this all is to try to trace this particular 'ability' back to when I first realized it happened. And until I worked on the book I am writing, I would never have made the connection to the disassociation sensations and my childhood. However, now I can clearly recall many times (all fairly traumatic or memorable) that I used my 'ability' to escape.
I am unsure when the sensations began to trigger the panic. But through my writing and reliving, I hope to find out. I embrace the possibility of changing the effect it has on me, and once again be able to benefit from my 'ability'.
A common symptom of a spontaneous panic attack is disassociation, which includes depersonalization and derealisation. There is little information as to whether a panic attack brings these on, or these events trigger the panic attack. For me, I can say with almost complete certainty, its the disassociation that brings on the panic attack.
When someone dissassociates, they enter a trance like state. It has been noted that this is considered an 'ability' not a reflex response. Most people who 'suffer' from this have been dissassociating since childhood, but never even realize it. Apparently this ability affords the child a defense to remove themselves from certain situations.
Dissassocaiting for me is scary. Many people embrace the ability, I run from it. Hence the panic attack that it triggers. Physically, depersonalizing is frightening. The feeling that you are not 'inside' your own body is not as much fun as it sounds. "Seeing" yourself from the outside is strange to say the least. Add to that the physical manifestations of derealisation, such as being in a dream, not being 'connected' to your surroundings etc, and it all becomes an awful experience for me. Tunnel vision, perceptions that your body is massively larger or smaller than it is, seeing stationary objects move etc, are all things that occur during disassociating. Ironically, I used to pay good money for drugs back in the day just to feel this same way.
The point of this all is to try to trace this particular 'ability' back to when I first realized it happened. And until I worked on the book I am writing, I would never have made the connection to the disassociation sensations and my childhood. However, now I can clearly recall many times (all fairly traumatic or memorable) that I used my 'ability' to escape.
I am unsure when the sensations began to trigger the panic. But through my writing and reliving, I hope to find out. I embrace the possibility of changing the effect it has on me, and once again be able to benefit from my 'ability'.
Tolerance, Caring, Consideration
I usually pick the inspiration for my posts from things I read or see during the day. A lot of times it comes during my commute to and from work. Equally, people's comments or blogs posted stir up thoughts that turn into blog entries. Today, it is a little of both.
I have noticed lately people's intolerance for others. And while it always has and always will exist, I seem to be particularly aware of it more recently. I think the sheer number of people I encounter during the day via social networking and commuting broadens the possibility of seeing either someone's act of inconsideration or another one's distraught due to it.
Each morning I pass an elementary school bus stop. It is on a busy corner with a traffic light. A crossing guard stands across the street. Every morning I arrive there at the same time after dropping my daughter off at school. And every morning there is a mother who allows her children to get out of the mini van, cross the busy gas station parking lot and wait at the light to cross the street to the bus stop. There are usually three children, with the oldest being maybe six or seven. The little girls stand at the corner watching the light for when they assume it is safe to cross the street. However on a busy corner during rush hour, people are turning in all directions. Essentially there is no safe time. The crossing guard apparently doesnt work that part of the corner, as she never assists these children. Neither do the parents that are standing waiting for the bus with their children. I dont get it. I have gotten out of my car and held traffic for these kids. I have yelled out the window for one of those parents to put out their cigarette, stop chatting and help these little girls cross. I have watched their mom go into the convenience store and get coffee while all this happens.
While driving, I notice the typical testosterone wars on the road. And no, its not a guy thing. Its just an inconsideration thing. No gender required. I have witnessed accidents happen, middle fingers thrown into the air, endless horn blowing and outright dangerous recklessness all because someone tried to merge onto the highway in front of someone else. Its absolutely absurd and inexcusable. Don't these people realize how much better THEY would feel if they did something good? If they allowed that person to merge in front of them? If they were afforded that gentle 'thank you' wave? Why do people insist on taking the route that leads to anger when they have a viable alternative?
As I read people's status updates and posts here on Facebook, it saddens me even more, to see the amount of exclusion that takes place within 'communities' that are vying for acceptance as a whole. People picking and choosing what and who fits the criteria and who doesn't. Exiling people because they don't fit 'their' mold. Not the communities mold, some individuals within it. When groups start to weed out people they only make themselves small and less visible. It seems counterproductive to be so exclusive that you essentially take yourself off the map. Communities and groups are supposed to serve an inclusive purpose. Too much tailoring and eventually no one will fit into it.
All three of the above situations are very different, yet all three are exactly the same. Examples of a lack of tolerance, caring and consideration. What are people achieving by acting this way? Why do they choose these choices first?
I have noticed lately people's intolerance for others. And while it always has and always will exist, I seem to be particularly aware of it more recently. I think the sheer number of people I encounter during the day via social networking and commuting broadens the possibility of seeing either someone's act of inconsideration or another one's distraught due to it.
Each morning I pass an elementary school bus stop. It is on a busy corner with a traffic light. A crossing guard stands across the street. Every morning I arrive there at the same time after dropping my daughter off at school. And every morning there is a mother who allows her children to get out of the mini van, cross the busy gas station parking lot and wait at the light to cross the street to the bus stop. There are usually three children, with the oldest being maybe six or seven. The little girls stand at the corner watching the light for when they assume it is safe to cross the street. However on a busy corner during rush hour, people are turning in all directions. Essentially there is no safe time. The crossing guard apparently doesnt work that part of the corner, as she never assists these children. Neither do the parents that are standing waiting for the bus with their children. I dont get it. I have gotten out of my car and held traffic for these kids. I have yelled out the window for one of those parents to put out their cigarette, stop chatting and help these little girls cross. I have watched their mom go into the convenience store and get coffee while all this happens.
While driving, I notice the typical testosterone wars on the road. And no, its not a guy thing. Its just an inconsideration thing. No gender required. I have witnessed accidents happen, middle fingers thrown into the air, endless horn blowing and outright dangerous recklessness all because someone tried to merge onto the highway in front of someone else. Its absolutely absurd and inexcusable. Don't these people realize how much better THEY would feel if they did something good? If they allowed that person to merge in front of them? If they were afforded that gentle 'thank you' wave? Why do people insist on taking the route that leads to anger when they have a viable alternative?
As I read people's status updates and posts here on Facebook, it saddens me even more, to see the amount of exclusion that takes place within 'communities' that are vying for acceptance as a whole. People picking and choosing what and who fits the criteria and who doesn't. Exiling people because they don't fit 'their' mold. Not the communities mold, some individuals within it. When groups start to weed out people they only make themselves small and less visible. It seems counterproductive to be so exclusive that you essentially take yourself off the map. Communities and groups are supposed to serve an inclusive purpose. Too much tailoring and eventually no one will fit into it.
All three of the above situations are very different, yet all three are exactly the same. Examples of a lack of tolerance, caring and consideration. What are people achieving by acting this way? Why do they choose these choices first?
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Swimsuit Dilemma
Summer is upon us again. Most people love the opportunity warm weather affords to wear less clothing. Less to put on, take off, wash and worry about it. Most people. Not me.
With summer comes added stress and anxiety. All year long I try to find clothes that 'cover' me up. Ways to hide the imperfections, both real and perceived. Ways to make sure I feel comfortable no matter which gender happens to surface throughout the day. It isn't an easy feat, but I can manage most days as long as I have enough clothes on.
I am going on a Hawaiian vacation this summer. A vacation of a lifetime for me. A week in paradise with my wife. Exploring the island and each other. I couldn't be more excited. And I couldn't be more apprehensive. What am I going to wear? It's hot there. There are a million beaches. The ocean. Swimming with the dolphins. It all screams, SWIMSUIT! I don't do swimsuit.
For starters, they absolutely do not make swimsuits for my body shape. Even if I was willing to wear a swimsuit off the rack in the ladies department, it would never fit. I am way too big chested and broad on the top and way too slim and tiny on the bottom. I could wear separates but we all know that is not going to happen. Bikini?....not. Tankini with my belly hanging out?....double not. So not only is it a frustrating thing to learn they don't make swimsuits to fit my body correctly, it just solidifies my poor body image even more.
I have decided that I need to buy board shorts. Bottoms I can always handle. What next. What do you wear with board shorts? Rash guard? No. Not trying to stuff my chest into a skin tight shirt that has a collar to boot! A T shirt? I could. However every time it gets wet I walk around in a soaking wet shirt plastered to my flaws. Not really an option either. Usually I just avoid the water situations and I solve this dilemma fairly quickly. I don't want to avoid them in Hawaii. I don't want to look like the party pooper. I don't want to not do things I truly want to do because of a swimsuit and my horrible self esteem.
I need some gender neutral ideas.
With summer comes added stress and anxiety. All year long I try to find clothes that 'cover' me up. Ways to hide the imperfections, both real and perceived. Ways to make sure I feel comfortable no matter which gender happens to surface throughout the day. It isn't an easy feat, but I can manage most days as long as I have enough clothes on.
I am going on a Hawaiian vacation this summer. A vacation of a lifetime for me. A week in paradise with my wife. Exploring the island and each other. I couldn't be more excited. And I couldn't be more apprehensive. What am I going to wear? It's hot there. There are a million beaches. The ocean. Swimming with the dolphins. It all screams, SWIMSUIT! I don't do swimsuit.
For starters, they absolutely do not make swimsuits for my body shape. Even if I was willing to wear a swimsuit off the rack in the ladies department, it would never fit. I am way too big chested and broad on the top and way too slim and tiny on the bottom. I could wear separates but we all know that is not going to happen. Bikini?....not. Tankini with my belly hanging out?....double not. So not only is it a frustrating thing to learn they don't make swimsuits to fit my body correctly, it just solidifies my poor body image even more.
I have decided that I need to buy board shorts. Bottoms I can always handle. What next. What do you wear with board shorts? Rash guard? No. Not trying to stuff my chest into a skin tight shirt that has a collar to boot! A T shirt? I could. However every time it gets wet I walk around in a soaking wet shirt plastered to my flaws. Not really an option either. Usually I just avoid the water situations and I solve this dilemma fairly quickly. I don't want to avoid them in Hawaii. I don't want to look like the party pooper. I don't want to not do things I truly want to do because of a swimsuit and my horrible self esteem.
I need some gender neutral ideas.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Before you Judge Me
Before you judge my hair
Ask me how bad it was when illness made me lose it all
Before you judge my sense of style
Ask me how well hand me downs matched when I was a child
Before you judge my distaste for labels
Ask me about the ones I unfairly wore
Before you judge my gender choices
Ask me about a family that only cared for boys
Before you judge my sexual deviance
Ask me about my childhood rape
Before you judge my abandonment issues
Ask me why my mother left
Before you judge my urgency for perfection
Ask me about being told I was never good enough
Before you judge me
Walk a mile in my shoes.
Ask me how bad it was when illness made me lose it all
Before you judge my sense of style
Ask me how well hand me downs matched when I was a child
Before you judge my distaste for labels
Ask me about the ones I unfairly wore
Before you judge my gender choices
Ask me about a family that only cared for boys
Before you judge my sexual deviance
Ask me about my childhood rape
Before you judge my abandonment issues
Ask me why my mother left
Before you judge my urgency for perfection
Ask me about being told I was never good enough
Before you judge me
Walk a mile in my shoes.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Gender in the bedroom
I have been fortunate for many years now to have a partner that is very in tune with my gender blurred reactions to things. This spills over into the bedroom. I know for me, there are key triggers that bring forth certain traits, be it masculine or feminine. Sometimes there are moments when I am truly 100% feeling both at the same time. (a particular favorite mind you).
After a nice long sweaty passionate end to the day yesterday, I was replaying our intimate moments in my head. I like to do that. I enjoy the little butterflies my tummy gets. As I was reliving the moments, I could see how many times my gender is influenced and altered during sex. I consider myself very lucky. As this way 'no one' gets left out.
My question is, how do people with gender identity issues handle the bedroom experience? Especially with a new or unfamiliar partner? If you are transgendered, or in the process of reassignment, or just identify as something different than your biological sex, how do you handle the intimate moments when your partner acts or reacts to you differently than you feel? Or do you just avoid those moments entirely?
I can remember the time before I became completely comfortable with being gender fluid, and before my wife knew how to respond. I remember the frustration at not being satisfied, the guilt for not being able to respond how she thought I would. I recall screaming out in silence "please just do this, or that", never quite comfortable enough to say it out loud. A big mistake.
While I am not completely comfortable with expressing my thoughts during sex, I have found ways to express where my head is (which can change in a moment's notice). Gestures, different kinds of touches, sounds etc, all cues. It works. But it has taken many years for it to work.
Honesty. That really is key. Being honest to yourself and what you want and need. Being honest with your partner, not just settling. Being brave enough to take the risk and put yourself out there. Its a big step. But an incredibly rewarding one.
After a nice long sweaty passionate end to the day yesterday, I was replaying our intimate moments in my head. I like to do that. I enjoy the little butterflies my tummy gets. As I was reliving the moments, I could see how many times my gender is influenced and altered during sex. I consider myself very lucky. As this way 'no one' gets left out.
My question is, how do people with gender identity issues handle the bedroom experience? Especially with a new or unfamiliar partner? If you are transgendered, or in the process of reassignment, or just identify as something different than your biological sex, how do you handle the intimate moments when your partner acts or reacts to you differently than you feel? Or do you just avoid those moments entirely?
I can remember the time before I became completely comfortable with being gender fluid, and before my wife knew how to respond. I remember the frustration at not being satisfied, the guilt for not being able to respond how she thought I would. I recall screaming out in silence "please just do this, or that", never quite comfortable enough to say it out loud. A big mistake.
While I am not completely comfortable with expressing my thoughts during sex, I have found ways to express where my head is (which can change in a moment's notice). Gestures, different kinds of touches, sounds etc, all cues. It works. But it has taken many years for it to work.
Honesty. That really is key. Being honest to yourself and what you want and need. Being honest with your partner, not just settling. Being brave enough to take the risk and put yourself out there. Its a big step. But an incredibly rewarding one.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
BBQ Anxiety
I was invited to a BBQ yesterday evening for a co-worker/friend's birthday. It was a surprise party. The days leading up to the party left me apprehensive. Actually from the moment I received the invitation I was apprehensive.
If you ask anyone that has spent time with me in a social situation, they will tell you that I am a social butterfly. That I can find common ground with just about anyone that starts a conversation with me. That I am witty, charming, and a bit of a flirt. The irony on all of that is, I don't feel that way about myself at all.
I have always questioned why people would choose to spend time with me, or seek out my company. Everyone else always seemed to be the superhero. Me, falling short of even the trusty sidekick. I think being my own worst enemy keeps me from social situations that apparently I fit very well into.
When I received the invitation to this party, I immediately scanned the Evite to see who was invited and size up my competition. I needed to know how I would have to dress, what I would need to bring, what drink would make me look appropriate. There is a lot of stress and anxiety involved in deciding to go to something social. I don't think I am socially inept just way too judgmental of myself. So much so, I assume everyone else is going to spend all night judging me too. I want to make sure I do everything in my power just to fit in and get lost on the crowd.
Fifteen minutes after arriving, I am already feeling settled. I have sought out the first familiar comfortable face and gravitated to it. After a cocktail and some small talk, I work the room (in this case, the yard). By the end of the night, I am everyone's best friend. People hugging me, crying to me, trying to include me. It feels unfamiliar even though this is what happens every time.
I had a great night. Like I do every time I muster up the courage to put myself into a situation that my head tells me not to. I am learning that the terrible things my life experience has caused my head to think about myself is truly not what other people's heads think of me.
If you ask anyone that has spent time with me in a social situation, they will tell you that I am a social butterfly. That I can find common ground with just about anyone that starts a conversation with me. That I am witty, charming, and a bit of a flirt. The irony on all of that is, I don't feel that way about myself at all.
I have always questioned why people would choose to spend time with me, or seek out my company. Everyone else always seemed to be the superhero. Me, falling short of even the trusty sidekick. I think being my own worst enemy keeps me from social situations that apparently I fit very well into.
When I received the invitation to this party, I immediately scanned the Evite to see who was invited and size up my competition. I needed to know how I would have to dress, what I would need to bring, what drink would make me look appropriate. There is a lot of stress and anxiety involved in deciding to go to something social. I don't think I am socially inept just way too judgmental of myself. So much so, I assume everyone else is going to spend all night judging me too. I want to make sure I do everything in my power just to fit in and get lost on the crowd.
Fifteen minutes after arriving, I am already feeling settled. I have sought out the first familiar comfortable face and gravitated to it. After a cocktail and some small talk, I work the room (in this case, the yard). By the end of the night, I am everyone's best friend. People hugging me, crying to me, trying to include me. It feels unfamiliar even though this is what happens every time.
I had a great night. Like I do every time I muster up the courage to put myself into a situation that my head tells me not to. I am learning that the terrible things my life experience has caused my head to think about myself is truly not what other people's heads think of me.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Too Comfortable to Write
I usually write when I am inspired. Inspired by overwhelming emotion, be it good or bad. Apparently I am overwhelmed most days, as you can see I rarely lapse in an entry.
Today I feel particularly OK. Not something I can say most days. This past week was a roller coaster. As I look back on my blog and recall the events that brought on the emotions that inspired the entries, I can understand why my head is pounding and my neck is a knot.
Yesterday I was finally able to rid myself of some bottled up emotion and enable myself to get past it and move on. I was able to appreciate my Friday at work, enjoy the radio while commuting and have wonderful passionate sex last night. All things that earlier in the week would have been near impossible.
I am not overwhelmed with emotion today, but that which I feel is very comfortable. A little too comfortable to inspire me to write.
Enjoy your day! I am enjoying mine. I'm sure I will see you tomorrow.
Today I feel particularly OK. Not something I can say most days. This past week was a roller coaster. As I look back on my blog and recall the events that brought on the emotions that inspired the entries, I can understand why my head is pounding and my neck is a knot.
Yesterday I was finally able to rid myself of some bottled up emotion and enable myself to get past it and move on. I was able to appreciate my Friday at work, enjoy the radio while commuting and have wonderful passionate sex last night. All things that earlier in the week would have been near impossible.
I am not overwhelmed with emotion today, but that which I feel is very comfortable. A little too comfortable to inspire me to write.
Enjoy your day! I am enjoying mine. I'm sure I will see you tomorrow.
Friday, May 21, 2010
The Crazy in Me
Having a 'mental illness' comes with a lot of stigma. Mainly because the majority of people do not understand it. I place no blame on their ignorance. Most people only learn of it when it directly effects them or a loved one. To the masses, mental illness just means crazy. Crazy is something we try to avoid. Hence, those who suffer are often avoided.
I really don't find it difficult to understand the lack of compassion most have for the mentally ill. Just as I don't find ignorance and unintentional biases about anything difficult to understand. Its all relative and all a matter of exposure and life experience.
I suffer from borderline personality disorder. Yes, its a mental illness. No, I am not completely off my rocker(unless of course you ask my family). BPD is usually caused by a series of events in a person's life. And yes, I can probably tell you how it came about. But then I am placing blame. Is blame something I need to assign? I have never thought so. I have always just figured I was a victim of unfortunate events when I was young. I have always told myself that it is my responsibility to handle myself properly in spite of those occurrences.
To most people, I look like anyone else. I function like anyone else. I am visibly a little more moody than some but I don't think I am the topic of anyone's dinner conversation. At almost 42 years of age, I have managed to get through life and be fairly productive. But this has not come without a challenge.
My gender identity issues are by far the thing that give me the most run for my money. Not because I am completely uncomfortable in being gender fluid, but because the rest of the world doesn't see it, doesn't relate to me that way and doesn't understand it. It puts me at a severe disadvantage in a lot of social situations. It puts me at a greater disadvantage during an emotional crisis.
My wife is probably the only one that truly 'knows' my gender issues, but I can't say that she fully understands them. She accepts the flexible spaces and compliments them most of the time. However it is very frustrating when she misses a cue. Suddenly the dynamic puts us on opposite planes. I get frustrated. I wait for her to 'find' me and come to center. Sometimes that just doesnt happen. Sometimes I am left feeling very alone and very helpless.
Those with BPD suffer incredible amounts of abandonment issues. Most of them completely irrational, but real just the same. So when I am standing on the opposite end of the spectrum, in a space that is not being related to, the perception of being abandoned is unbearable. With this comes resentment. "why didnt you come for me?". Clearly it is not my wife's fault, but the feelings are genuine and raw none-the-less.
Eventually I find my way back. I have learned that if I dont, I will just remain lost; that it isn't someone else's responsibility to save me from myself.
I really don't find it difficult to understand the lack of compassion most have for the mentally ill. Just as I don't find ignorance and unintentional biases about anything difficult to understand. Its all relative and all a matter of exposure and life experience.
I suffer from borderline personality disorder. Yes, its a mental illness. No, I am not completely off my rocker(unless of course you ask my family). BPD is usually caused by a series of events in a person's life. And yes, I can probably tell you how it came about. But then I am placing blame. Is blame something I need to assign? I have never thought so. I have always just figured I was a victim of unfortunate events when I was young. I have always told myself that it is my responsibility to handle myself properly in spite of those occurrences.
To most people, I look like anyone else. I function like anyone else. I am visibly a little more moody than some but I don't think I am the topic of anyone's dinner conversation. At almost 42 years of age, I have managed to get through life and be fairly productive. But this has not come without a challenge.
My gender identity issues are by far the thing that give me the most run for my money. Not because I am completely uncomfortable in being gender fluid, but because the rest of the world doesn't see it, doesn't relate to me that way and doesn't understand it. It puts me at a severe disadvantage in a lot of social situations. It puts me at a greater disadvantage during an emotional crisis.
My wife is probably the only one that truly 'knows' my gender issues, but I can't say that she fully understands them. She accepts the flexible spaces and compliments them most of the time. However it is very frustrating when she misses a cue. Suddenly the dynamic puts us on opposite planes. I get frustrated. I wait for her to 'find' me and come to center. Sometimes that just doesnt happen. Sometimes I am left feeling very alone and very helpless.
Those with BPD suffer incredible amounts of abandonment issues. Most of them completely irrational, but real just the same. So when I am standing on the opposite end of the spectrum, in a space that is not being related to, the perception of being abandoned is unbearable. With this comes resentment. "why didnt you come for me?". Clearly it is not my wife's fault, but the feelings are genuine and raw none-the-less.
Eventually I find my way back. I have learned that if I dont, I will just remain lost; that it isn't someone else's responsibility to save me from myself.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Worth Meter
Earlier in the week I was listening to a talk show on the radio during my lunch half hour. The discussion ended with the realization that the amount of sex you have with your partner in a week has a direct correlation to your frustration and aggravation levels toward said partner. While I don't totally agree with this, I do agree that intimacy plays a big part in keeping the waves smooth in a relationship. More importantly it keeps your self esteem from diving to the ends of the earth.
This week my self esteem and worth meter is pointing drastically to the zero mark. My stress levels are high, I am hypersensitive, and I am just plain feeling out of sorts. This is usually nothing more than a temporary inconvenience for both myself and those around me. It passes eventually with most people unscathed in the process.
The other night I was reading a quiz in a smut magazine. Most things didn't pertain to me as they were geared toward straight women, but it was entertaining none-the-less. I decided to ask my wife to answer some of the questions. What the hell, it will pass the time. Most questions I threw at her, I really didn't even listen to the answer. Mainly because they didn't pertain to me. Or more honestly, they weren't a threat to me. However, a couple of the questions were answered in a way that I did take them personally and badly to say the least.
As a rational person, I can tell myself that I am being foolish. That these things don't truly effect me. But in reality, they do. I kept recalling the radio show and their correlation and realized that it applies to me. I do associate the amount of intimacy with feeling desired and wanted. And when you begin to feel replaced by the television and/or masturbation, it becomes a challenge to rise above feeling unwanted and inadequate.
And so goes my week. Feeling hurt. Feeling foolish. Feeling less than desirable. Feeling way too many things all at one time. I'm working to find my way out of this place. Its not good for me and I don't like it. I think I will start by canceling my magazine subscriptions.
This week my self esteem and worth meter is pointing drastically to the zero mark. My stress levels are high, I am hypersensitive, and I am just plain feeling out of sorts. This is usually nothing more than a temporary inconvenience for both myself and those around me. It passes eventually with most people unscathed in the process.
The other night I was reading a quiz in a smut magazine. Most things didn't pertain to me as they were geared toward straight women, but it was entertaining none-the-less. I decided to ask my wife to answer some of the questions. What the hell, it will pass the time. Most questions I threw at her, I really didn't even listen to the answer. Mainly because they didn't pertain to me. Or more honestly, they weren't a threat to me. However, a couple of the questions were answered in a way that I did take them personally and badly to say the least.
As a rational person, I can tell myself that I am being foolish. That these things don't truly effect me. But in reality, they do. I kept recalling the radio show and their correlation and realized that it applies to me. I do associate the amount of intimacy with feeling desired and wanted. And when you begin to feel replaced by the television and/or masturbation, it becomes a challenge to rise above feeling unwanted and inadequate.
And so goes my week. Feeling hurt. Feeling foolish. Feeling less than desirable. Feeling way too many things all at one time. I'm working to find my way out of this place. Its not good for me and I don't like it. I think I will start by canceling my magazine subscriptions.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Being Responsible
If you've ever been to a therapist, psychologist, psychiatrist.....you probably have heard that "people are not responsible for your feelings". To this I have always tried to look back on and adhere to. Trying not to place blame for my feelings on other people.
Today I think I am an idiot for doing so. While I agree that no one can 'make' you feel anything you don't want to feel, people you interact with are absolutely responsible for your feelings. I think the blurred line rests in what that responsibility is.
Responsible can mean two things. Responsible as in being liable for the action that causes the feeling. And responsible as in doing the right thing. Being responsible means you take claim for what you do and say. Being responsible means you do and say what is deemed appropriate. When someone fails to act responsibly in either of those manners, they ultimately have started the cause and effect that eventually ends up in how you feel. In essence, they are absolutely responsible for creating a situation in which you muster up a feeling response.
How you chose to feel about the situation is certainly yours to own. If you choose to feel badly about something someone has said or done, that is your choice. However it is pretty unrealistic to assume that if someone says something that feeds your lack of self esteem, it is not going to bring unpleasant feelings to the surface. It's easy for people to tell you to 'let it go', but saying it is a whole lot easier than doing it.
So we make choices. Choices to take the hurt with the good, when good seems to prevail in a relationship. But there are plenty of times when the hurt will surface from someone's actions. And you will 'feel' that hurt and you will react to it. And yes, the one that caused that hurt, in my opinion, is responsible. Maybe not responsible for how you reacted to their insensitivity, but responsible for being callous in the words or actions that caused the feelings in the first place.
Today I think I am an idiot for doing so. While I agree that no one can 'make' you feel anything you don't want to feel, people you interact with are absolutely responsible for your feelings. I think the blurred line rests in what that responsibility is.
Responsible can mean two things. Responsible as in being liable for the action that causes the feeling. And responsible as in doing the right thing. Being responsible means you take claim for what you do and say. Being responsible means you do and say what is deemed appropriate. When someone fails to act responsibly in either of those manners, they ultimately have started the cause and effect that eventually ends up in how you feel. In essence, they are absolutely responsible for creating a situation in which you muster up a feeling response.
How you chose to feel about the situation is certainly yours to own. If you choose to feel badly about something someone has said or done, that is your choice. However it is pretty unrealistic to assume that if someone says something that feeds your lack of self esteem, it is not going to bring unpleasant feelings to the surface. It's easy for people to tell you to 'let it go', but saying it is a whole lot easier than doing it.
So we make choices. Choices to take the hurt with the good, when good seems to prevail in a relationship. But there are plenty of times when the hurt will surface from someone's actions. And you will 'feel' that hurt and you will react to it. And yes, the one that caused that hurt, in my opinion, is responsible. Maybe not responsible for how you reacted to their insensitivity, but responsible for being callous in the words or actions that caused the feelings in the first place.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Survival Strength
Most people have a story to tell. Most people can recall life changing events they have experienced and lived through. Most people come out on the other side. This is common. What isn't so common, is where we are when we do come out on the other side. What is that other side for you? Naturally circumstance and situation will play major roles in the effect a particular experience will have on you. However many people will agree that the old adage "what doesn't kill me, only makes me stronger" does apply. So I am choosing to write about that 'strength'.
When we speak of the strength we gain from living through an emotional experience, we speak of it in terms of pride. Proud to be able to say 'I survived'. And survival should be seen as a prideful event. But what happens when you realize that you haven't 'come out on the other side'? When you realize the 'strength' you are feeling isn't from surviving, but rather a constant survival tool you continue to live with.
For me my strength is a coping tool. A way to keep things at arms length. A way to keep myself from looking vulnerable. A way to make people believe that I have come out on the other side. But the truth is, I have used my strength to keep from feeling. Strength enables me to feel more powerful than my other emotions. This is not to say I don't feel. Because I do. Probably more than a lot of people. Which can explain why I use this technique for protection.
This defense mechanism works well. A lot of the time. However what happens when you want to be vulnerable? When you want to throw down the strength and allow someone to rescue you? The times when it just seems too much to rise above and the need to allow yourself to feel the pain becomes necessary? That's where the true meaning of strength emerges. When you find the ability to strip yourself of your shields and stand emotionally naked in front of someone, that's strength.
The strength to let go of the strength is liberating and often necessary in order to be true to yourself.
When we speak of the strength we gain from living through an emotional experience, we speak of it in terms of pride. Proud to be able to say 'I survived'. And survival should be seen as a prideful event. But what happens when you realize that you haven't 'come out on the other side'? When you realize the 'strength' you are feeling isn't from surviving, but rather a constant survival tool you continue to live with.
For me my strength is a coping tool. A way to keep things at arms length. A way to keep myself from looking vulnerable. A way to make people believe that I have come out on the other side. But the truth is, I have used my strength to keep from feeling. Strength enables me to feel more powerful than my other emotions. This is not to say I don't feel. Because I do. Probably more than a lot of people. Which can explain why I use this technique for protection.
This defense mechanism works well. A lot of the time. However what happens when you want to be vulnerable? When you want to throw down the strength and allow someone to rescue you? The times when it just seems too much to rise above and the need to allow yourself to feel the pain becomes necessary? That's where the true meaning of strength emerges. When you find the ability to strip yourself of your shields and stand emotionally naked in front of someone, that's strength.
The strength to let go of the strength is liberating and often necessary in order to be true to yourself.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Senses Reeling
We all know we have five major senses. Some of us have the proverbial sixth. But do you truly pay attention to what your senses are telling you? Do you really appreciate the magnitude of their capabilities? I, for one, definitely appreciate my senses to their fullest.
Sight is probably the one sense I rely on the least for emotional attachment. Seeing things doesn't seem to evoke as much emotion as say, hearing or smelling. Actually I find that my sense of sight brings on more negative feelings and memories. My guess is that sight is used so much that we rely on it for most things. It has the ability to trigger judgment, on both ourselves and others, a lot more readily than the other senses.
Hearing is also used to a great extent. However one must hear something particularly disturbing to trigger a negative feeling. Hearing is much more apt to bring forth pleasant memories. This, by far, is the sense that carries me to many places, all in a single day.
I love music. Music has been very instrumental in my life. It has allowed me to escape, to express myself, to wallow in self pity, and to recall butterfly in my stomach moments. It enables me to associate with all the different parts of my persona. There is hardly a time when music is not available at my fingertips.
I was driving home from New Hope the other night and was listening to my IPod. I was noting how easily my mood and my personality could change when the songs did. I started wondering how something could have such power over me. How I have associated certain tunes and tones with certain people or times in my life. Its not just 'our song' types that trigger it. Its the melodies and tones themselves. Its the sound of the singer's voice or the genre of music. Memories flood into me quickly.
Unfortunately, as much as I appreciate my senses keeping me very in tune with my emotions, I equally harbor a distaste for the way it sends me reeling into head spaces I am just not prepared to be in.
If you have read my earlier blog entries, you would have noted that I suffer from borderline personality disorder and gender identity issues. Imagine how distressing it is to hear a song, be taken to a particular memory, settle into the feelings those memories bring forth, only to be flipped to somewhere else as soon as the next song comes on. And although most people can relate to music reminding them of a special moment in time, being taken between genders at a moments notice can cause quite a feeling of being unbalanced. Especially when I am not alone.
I relate to people on a certain level and from a certain part of my personality. Each person taps into a different space and I tend to associate time in their company with a certain dynamic. So listening to music in their company can bring me to a place that simply cannot be associated with them. Its frustrating and can even cause me to feel unfamiliar with my relation to them at that moment. I have, in the past, temporarily left a party, work, my partner or my kids presence, because I was no longer in a space they could identify with. All because of music.
So, thank you IPod, for making the 'playlist' option. You have no idea what a saving grace it has been.
Sight is probably the one sense I rely on the least for emotional attachment. Seeing things doesn't seem to evoke as much emotion as say, hearing or smelling. Actually I find that my sense of sight brings on more negative feelings and memories. My guess is that sight is used so much that we rely on it for most things. It has the ability to trigger judgment, on both ourselves and others, a lot more readily than the other senses.
Hearing is also used to a great extent. However one must hear something particularly disturbing to trigger a negative feeling. Hearing is much more apt to bring forth pleasant memories. This, by far, is the sense that carries me to many places, all in a single day.
I love music. Music has been very instrumental in my life. It has allowed me to escape, to express myself, to wallow in self pity, and to recall butterfly in my stomach moments. It enables me to associate with all the different parts of my persona. There is hardly a time when music is not available at my fingertips.
I was driving home from New Hope the other night and was listening to my IPod. I was noting how easily my mood and my personality could change when the songs did. I started wondering how something could have such power over me. How I have associated certain tunes and tones with certain people or times in my life. Its not just 'our song' types that trigger it. Its the melodies and tones themselves. Its the sound of the singer's voice or the genre of music. Memories flood into me quickly.
Unfortunately, as much as I appreciate my senses keeping me very in tune with my emotions, I equally harbor a distaste for the way it sends me reeling into head spaces I am just not prepared to be in.
If you have read my earlier blog entries, you would have noted that I suffer from borderline personality disorder and gender identity issues. Imagine how distressing it is to hear a song, be taken to a particular memory, settle into the feelings those memories bring forth, only to be flipped to somewhere else as soon as the next song comes on. And although most people can relate to music reminding them of a special moment in time, being taken between genders at a moments notice can cause quite a feeling of being unbalanced. Especially when I am not alone.
I relate to people on a certain level and from a certain part of my personality. Each person taps into a different space and I tend to associate time in their company with a certain dynamic. So listening to music in their company can bring me to a place that simply cannot be associated with them. Its frustrating and can even cause me to feel unfamiliar with my relation to them at that moment. I have, in the past, temporarily left a party, work, my partner or my kids presence, because I was no longer in a space they could identify with. All because of music.
So, thank you IPod, for making the 'playlist' option. You have no idea what a saving grace it has been.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Community
I have always been one to avoid any 'jump on the bandwagon' moments. For some reason I tend to muster up a distaste for the the popular things. Even if I really like them. It appears to most that I just refuse to give in to being part of the group. It doesn't matter what that group is. I would tell myself that I didn't want to look like a follower. That I didn't want people to think I liked things just because they did. Even when I knew I just plain liked it. In an effort to stay a nonconformist, I ended up isolating myself from things that probably would have been beneficial to me growing up and even as an adult.
I have identified as gay since high school. I never felt I needed any more validation than I had in myself. It was common to find me saying negative things about people that seemed to need community to feel good about who they were. I found it weak. I didn't understand it. Well thats what I said anyway.
I live close to several major cities. I have never been to a gay pride event. I thought it was stupid. I felt that coming together and drawing attention to yourself only solidified that you were different. Why, when the community seemed to be fighting so hard for equality would they feel the need to celebrate their differences? My mindset was, if you didn't make such a production, people that didn't understand it wouldn't either. I stood by these convictions, and will even voice them to this day. But in all honesty, I don't believe that one bit.
Now that I am in my 40s, I look back at this thinking, and realize it only came as a result of my own fears. Fears that people would not see me for who I was as a person, but rather lump me into a group with people. I would lose my individuality. And once you stand firm on something, it is very difficult to save face should you change your mind.
My feeling was that just because someone is gay, doesn't mean they are someone I would necessarily like. And just because someone was not gay, didn't mean they would dislike or not understand me because I was. I hate labels. I don't want to wear any. I think it puts a box around you that is very difficult for those outside to penetrate, or even want to try.
But by dong that, I have closed myself in my own little box. People are just wandering around it. All kinds of people. Some like minded, some not. The point is, without that group dynamic, I gave myself less opportunity to find people that truly related to me. In an effort to not look like everyone else, I became a no one. I became someone that people dont know how to identify with.
I have very very few friends. The ones I hold dearest are my kink friendly peers. Why? Because I embraced that 'community'. I didn't for a long time. But once I found the amazing energy this group enabled me to feel, I drew that community very close. Sure there are a lot of people that I don't like there too. But those I do, have become very instrumental in my life.
If only I would have stopped being envious of those that found comfort in groups. If only I had seen the possibilities in other communities, I think life would have been a whole lot easier.
I have identified as gay since high school. I never felt I needed any more validation than I had in myself. It was common to find me saying negative things about people that seemed to need community to feel good about who they were. I found it weak. I didn't understand it. Well thats what I said anyway.
I live close to several major cities. I have never been to a gay pride event. I thought it was stupid. I felt that coming together and drawing attention to yourself only solidified that you were different. Why, when the community seemed to be fighting so hard for equality would they feel the need to celebrate their differences? My mindset was, if you didn't make such a production, people that didn't understand it wouldn't either. I stood by these convictions, and will even voice them to this day. But in all honesty, I don't believe that one bit.
Now that I am in my 40s, I look back at this thinking, and realize it only came as a result of my own fears. Fears that people would not see me for who I was as a person, but rather lump me into a group with people. I would lose my individuality. And once you stand firm on something, it is very difficult to save face should you change your mind.
My feeling was that just because someone is gay, doesn't mean they are someone I would necessarily like. And just because someone was not gay, didn't mean they would dislike or not understand me because I was. I hate labels. I don't want to wear any. I think it puts a box around you that is very difficult for those outside to penetrate, or even want to try.
But by dong that, I have closed myself in my own little box. People are just wandering around it. All kinds of people. Some like minded, some not. The point is, without that group dynamic, I gave myself less opportunity to find people that truly related to me. In an effort to not look like everyone else, I became a no one. I became someone that people dont know how to identify with.
I have very very few friends. The ones I hold dearest are my kink friendly peers. Why? Because I embraced that 'community'. I didn't for a long time. But once I found the amazing energy this group enabled me to feel, I drew that community very close. Sure there are a lot of people that I don't like there too. But those I do, have become very instrumental in my life.
If only I would have stopped being envious of those that found comfort in groups. If only I had seen the possibilities in other communities, I think life would have been a whole lot easier.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Compartmentalizing
Today I stepped out of the comfort zone. I invited someone from my past into my world here. I am fairly certain it was a safe choice, and wouldn't have sent the invite if I thought otherwise. I found myself having a slight panic attack after doing so though. I went back and reread my blog entries to make sure something I wished to remain a secret from my past wasn't in there.
This moment is not new to me. I feel this all the time. I have constantly had to battle what I felt with what others would think of me. Its so easy for people to tell you not to care what others think. But honestly, that is just not possible for me. I am so critical of myself and assume others are just as critical about me as I am. I can probably trace this back to the lovely teachings of my mother, but it doesn't really matter how I got here anyway.
What matters is that I feel my life has to be so compartmentalized. I have groups of people that I interact with in different areas of my life. Most don't cross the lines. I do have a select few people that know me......all of me. Those people are all kink friendly people. Kink friendly people, to me, seem the most accepting group of people I have ever had the pleasure of being in a community with. I am completely 100% OK with being whatever and whoever I am with those people. Some of them I also call friend. That's where the line crossing stops.
I look around my work space. I am friendly with these people. Most know I am gay. A couple know I dabble in kink, but not to what extent. None know I am gender fucked. They are not privy to any more than my family. I spend the majority of my day with these people, and yet they know the least.
After I began this blog and my friend list on Facebook under this name grew, I found a staggering amount of young people that were suffering gender identity issues. And even though I do not feel as though I am the wrong sex, I can understand and relate to the pain and frustration they have and are going through. I don't completely fit myself either.
What astounds me however, is the sheer number of these people, many very young, that seem to have found the support and courage to make the life changes they want and need in order to complete themselves. I don't want to generalize because it is so individual, but I am speaking of body modifications mainly.
My question is, how did these people find the support they needed to achieve these things so young? How were they capable of addressing their turmoil with friends, family and co-workers? It just seems completely unfamiliar to me.
I had a hard enough time mustering up the courage to let someone from my past know I am gender fluid. I think panic alone would kill me if I had to present my plans for life and body altering changes to people.
Kudos to your strength. I wish I had some.
This moment is not new to me. I feel this all the time. I have constantly had to battle what I felt with what others would think of me. Its so easy for people to tell you not to care what others think. But honestly, that is just not possible for me. I am so critical of myself and assume others are just as critical about me as I am. I can probably trace this back to the lovely teachings of my mother, but it doesn't really matter how I got here anyway.
What matters is that I feel my life has to be so compartmentalized. I have groups of people that I interact with in different areas of my life. Most don't cross the lines. I do have a select few people that know me......all of me. Those people are all kink friendly people. Kink friendly people, to me, seem the most accepting group of people I have ever had the pleasure of being in a community with. I am completely 100% OK with being whatever and whoever I am with those people. Some of them I also call friend. That's where the line crossing stops.
I look around my work space. I am friendly with these people. Most know I am gay. A couple know I dabble in kink, but not to what extent. None know I am gender fucked. They are not privy to any more than my family. I spend the majority of my day with these people, and yet they know the least.
After I began this blog and my friend list on Facebook under this name grew, I found a staggering amount of young people that were suffering gender identity issues. And even though I do not feel as though I am the wrong sex, I can understand and relate to the pain and frustration they have and are going through. I don't completely fit myself either.
What astounds me however, is the sheer number of these people, many very young, that seem to have found the support and courage to make the life changes they want and need in order to complete themselves. I don't want to generalize because it is so individual, but I am speaking of body modifications mainly.
My question is, how did these people find the support they needed to achieve these things so young? How were they capable of addressing their turmoil with friends, family and co-workers? It just seems completely unfamiliar to me.
I had a hard enough time mustering up the courage to let someone from my past know I am gender fluid. I think panic alone would kill me if I had to present my plans for life and body altering changes to people.
Kudos to your strength. I wish I had some.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
More Than a Memory
I remember the way you looked.
How, in a severely crowded space, I saw no one else.
Laying before me.
Completely vulnerable.
My eyes stroking your naked skin.
My fingers following.
The blindfold.
Not keeping you from me, connecting you to me.
Allowing your senses to feel me without confusion.
I remember the music.
The beat that seems to fill my senses every time I hear it.
I breathe deeply.
As if those breaths draw you closer to me.
My senses heightened.
I smell everything.
The metal, the leather, you.
An intoxication unlike any other.
The bag is open, instruments waiting.
You are open, willing.
It matters not where we go.
We are already there.
~MM
How, in a severely crowded space, I saw no one else.
Laying before me.
Completely vulnerable.
My eyes stroking your naked skin.
My fingers following.
The blindfold.
Not keeping you from me, connecting you to me.
Allowing your senses to feel me without confusion.
I remember the music.
The beat that seems to fill my senses every time I hear it.
I breathe deeply.
As if those breaths draw you closer to me.
My senses heightened.
I smell everything.
The metal, the leather, you.
An intoxication unlike any other.
The bag is open, instruments waiting.
You are open, willing.
It matters not where we go.
We are already there.
~MM
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Gender Epiphany
I've been thinking a lot about gender binaries lately. I used to just be frustrated that I don't fit into any of them. But today I realized that my thought processes were pretty selfish. That my frustration is not mine alone. There are so many others out there that don't feel completely right checking one of those boxes.
I happen to live and work in a state that has fairly liberal laws regarding transsexuals. They are protected under a lot of our employment laws and laws regarding restrooms, locker rooms etc. I have seen 'other' on job applications and such. Its a step in the right direction. For them.
I am not a transsexual. I am not a future FTM. I am definitely an 'other' but not in the sense they see it as.
I know from my line of work and conversations with our legal advisers, that the laws here protect those that identify as a different gender. The lines are blurry as to how far you must be into the process of becoming the opposite (or correct) sex, but at least the protection is there.
I don't necessarily identify as a different gender than I look to people. I look female. I use the ladies room because people would certainly arrest me for using the mens room, and frankly, I don't feel like a man. I am not looking to be a man. I am very comfortable being my own gender. A little of both.
So I got to thinking, what provisions would I want to suit my gender variance. And honestly, I cant think of anything that has caused me undue stress other than my own self. People with gender variance are often misunderstood. I was not born into the wrong body, or into the wrong sex. I am my own sex. Sometimes my genitals are wrong for the moment, but I wouldn't want to change what I have. Ultimately I would be complete with a small functioning penis and a vagina. I don't want to remove my breasts, just make them smaller. I am so much of both sexes, I could never choose one over the other. But I would have liked to have at least been born to fit myself.
What this all means to me, is that I need to embrace myself more. I need to stop thinking that the world doesn't understand me. Even though they don't. I have realized that I don't need to change the way my world works, because the only person holding me back is myself. I am considering myself lucky today that I don't have to rely on laws and politics to let me comfortably be who I am. I can already do that. As long as I allow myself to do so.
I happen to live and work in a state that has fairly liberal laws regarding transsexuals. They are protected under a lot of our employment laws and laws regarding restrooms, locker rooms etc. I have seen 'other' on job applications and such. Its a step in the right direction. For them.
I am not a transsexual. I am not a future FTM. I am definitely an 'other' but not in the sense they see it as.
I know from my line of work and conversations with our legal advisers, that the laws here protect those that identify as a different gender. The lines are blurry as to how far you must be into the process of becoming the opposite (or correct) sex, but at least the protection is there.
I don't necessarily identify as a different gender than I look to people. I look female. I use the ladies room because people would certainly arrest me for using the mens room, and frankly, I don't feel like a man. I am not looking to be a man. I am very comfortable being my own gender. A little of both.
So I got to thinking, what provisions would I want to suit my gender variance. And honestly, I cant think of anything that has caused me undue stress other than my own self. People with gender variance are often misunderstood. I was not born into the wrong body, or into the wrong sex. I am my own sex. Sometimes my genitals are wrong for the moment, but I wouldn't want to change what I have. Ultimately I would be complete with a small functioning penis and a vagina. I don't want to remove my breasts, just make them smaller. I am so much of both sexes, I could never choose one over the other. But I would have liked to have at least been born to fit myself.
What this all means to me, is that I need to embrace myself more. I need to stop thinking that the world doesn't understand me. Even though they don't. I have realized that I don't need to change the way my world works, because the only person holding me back is myself. I am considering myself lucky today that I don't have to rely on laws and politics to let me comfortably be who I am. I can already do that. As long as I allow myself to do so.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
The Traditional Family
I was reading an article today which included excerpts from a therapy session. The gentleman in the session was seeking assistance in hopes to change his gay ways to heterosexual ways. He had identified as a gay man for over 20 years of his adult life. He had several long term relationships. His decision to 'change' himself came from a burning desire to have a traditional family.
I found it sad that this man thought traditional meant heterosexual. While he admitted to finding stunning women attractive, he claimed he was more likely to find a higher percentage of men attractive. He worried about monogamy and how he would stay faithful to a woman when his desire for men was so strong. There were no other updates.
The word family is so broad now a days. It may be safe to say traditional in the sense this man was referring to, exists a lot less than we think. With heterosexual marriages failing at a staggering rate, traditional may just be 'product of divorce' or single parent. Add in all of the grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings etc, that take in children when tragedy strikes a family, traditional doesn't seem so black and white. And with the addition of adoption laws and medical intervention, homosexuals are becoming parents more and more.
With blended families stemming from finding the 'right' one the second time around, it is difficult for me to think that traditional family is anything other than a group of loving people that treat each other well and identify as family.
My children are not my partner's. Her's are not mine. Biologically. But together, all five of them are ours. We have raised them together for the past 13 years. We are their parents. No more than their biological fathers, no less. (OK maybe more). I think we are very traditional. Traditional in how we raised them. Traditional in the teachings. Traditional in the love we provided and still do. They were conceived 'traditionally' however traditional was not what either of us wanted.
I am sure the gentleman in the therapy session was very genuine and caring. But I cant help but feel sad for him. Sad that he felt he needed to pursue a relationship outside of his comfort zone to fulfill his feelings of traditional. He may just find his traditional family ending up being un-traditionally traditional in the end.
I found it sad that this man thought traditional meant heterosexual. While he admitted to finding stunning women attractive, he claimed he was more likely to find a higher percentage of men attractive. He worried about monogamy and how he would stay faithful to a woman when his desire for men was so strong. There were no other updates.
The word family is so broad now a days. It may be safe to say traditional in the sense this man was referring to, exists a lot less than we think. With heterosexual marriages failing at a staggering rate, traditional may just be 'product of divorce' or single parent. Add in all of the grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings etc, that take in children when tragedy strikes a family, traditional doesn't seem so black and white. And with the addition of adoption laws and medical intervention, homosexuals are becoming parents more and more.
With blended families stemming from finding the 'right' one the second time around, it is difficult for me to think that traditional family is anything other than a group of loving people that treat each other well and identify as family.
My children are not my partner's. Her's are not mine. Biologically. But together, all five of them are ours. We have raised them together for the past 13 years. We are their parents. No more than their biological fathers, no less. (OK maybe more). I think we are very traditional. Traditional in how we raised them. Traditional in the teachings. Traditional in the love we provided and still do. They were conceived 'traditionally' however traditional was not what either of us wanted.
I am sure the gentleman in the therapy session was very genuine and caring. But I cant help but feel sad for him. Sad that he felt he needed to pursue a relationship outside of his comfort zone to fulfill his feelings of traditional. He may just find his traditional family ending up being un-traditionally traditional in the end.
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