Sex, Morality and Control.

Sometimes, I wonder whether we are living in enlightened times, or whether that’s one of the big self-delusions our species has created for ourselves. (Inclined to the latter, personally).

There seems to be so much moralising against women, especially & the old double standards are alive and well when it comes to sex.

Our sexualities are nobody’s business but our own. We aren’t here for the gratification & judgement of others, we’re here to live our lives – to seek pleasure & avoid pain – just the same as everyone else.

It seems to be that this judgementality that seems reserved more often for women than men (although also for trans people of any gender) is designed to control what is seen as troublesome behaviour. Anything that doesn’t conform with the rigid heteronormative, monogamous ideas that are wrapped up in supposed ‘decency’, ‘morality’ and the ‘proper’ ways to behave – all of these are arbitrary & imposed.

This, I feels, strips us of our humanity – the ability to think, choose and do what we like. For, as long as our behaviour doesn’t make anyone else suffer, why should it be wrong for us if it feels right for us?

Why should we be judged on who we choose to sleep with, or how many we sleep with, or have slept with, or what we do with our consenting humans? Isn’t this the essence of our humanity? Is it not inhumane to subject others to your ideas of what is ‘right’, when we all know that those ideas were just put there in your heads, probably just to appease others’ insecurities and make them feel good about themselves in a completely oppressive-to-others kind of way?

What makes us human is our ability to think for ourselves & to make our own decisions. I don’t have anything nice to say about those small-minded enough to impose their wills on others. Conforming just for the sake of it & ridiculing/discouraging others who choose not to, is a kind of dictatorship – trying to control others because of your own mental limitations & fears/insecurities. It’s also really boring.

Under My Skin

So, it’s taken less than a day & a couple of brief messages & Organist #1 is under my skin again.

I dislike this very much, as my mind is wandering & it makes me feel vulnerable as am potentially opening myself up to hurt again & I don’t want to feel like am not in total control of what might happen.

Am also a little annoyed with myself for doing this to myself. I think it’s because I care & I don’t want to, meh. He’s surprised that I’m still talking to him & so am I, a little. Will he take this to mean I’m a pushover/doormat? I’ll kick his backside to high heaven if he does.

I can’t deny I felt very connected to him, and intimate, and excited and the idea of requiting was is unrequited is so (destructively?) appealing. And he’s the tortured artist type – am such a sucker for the tortured, starving artist.

The one I haven’t written about.

There’s one person I haven’t written about.

One of the reasons I started this was because I thought the anonymity afforded to me would grant me freedom to write my thoughts unfettered by fear of judgement, or negativity.

There’s one person I haven’t written about & I have now realised why. It’s not because I’m afraid of any of you, dear readers, but it was more I was afraid of myself, or, avoiding remembering having my fingers burnt (I’m a bit of a sensitive soul, underneath my tough exterior, sometimes).

I’ll call him Organist #1. Back when I was still in existential limbo, he was the first person I got feelings for after leaving the Ex – a long time after leaving the ex, too. A year & a bit. We’d been chatting for a long time, when I finally succumbed & thought I’d dip my toes into the world of online dating. We talked for quite a few weeks & I had a gut instinct with him – perhaps less of a gut instinct, more of a fluttering of the heartstrings, which I hadn’t felt for *years* (or since, to be honest).

So, it was a bit crap that this thing that didn’t even happen could still cause so much heartbreak. We met, we went on a beautiful date, dinner, then we snuck into a local church that he had the keys to & climbed onto the roof to carry on drinking & smoking & admiring the view. A thunderstorm started & we had a beautiful first kiss in the rain & thunder & lightening. We went back to mine & he spent the night (although we didn’t have sex, we played) & then came back the next night too & we had a couple more times where we met up for drinks, kisses & so on. We were in constant touch & it was all very intense.

Then, he started to flake out on me. His situation, is, let’s say, complicated. I’d never step on anyone else’s toes, so it’s not the kind of complicated that you might be thinking, but the kind of complicated that is very stressful. He did the semi-disappearing thing & IT REALLY HURT. Because, it was the first time (& last) that I’ve felt intimate with someone. It wasn’t a disappearing off the face of the planet, but sending me messages saying he wasn’t ok & didn’t want to hurt me etc. That hurt.

Yesterday, after a few months he paid a visit to my profile & didn’t send a message, but he had changed his profile to read:

“My life is moderately complicated – no more than yours, but sometimes it feels it. I’ve had a few months off from this because I realised I wasn’t ready for any kind of human interaction and would end up hurting people. Am in a much better place now. I’m telling you this in the hope that you’ll trust that I know, and think it matters, when my presence in someone’s life might not be a good thing. It would take the edge of my otherwise glittering brilliance.”

I think that’s meant for me, it feels like it. Don’t know what to think. The heartstrings are pulling & I’m a little scared. It’s only because I *really* liked him, and I think he *really* liked me. But I don’t want to get hurt again. Was he a cad? Am I an idiot? I hate this feeling. Don’t want to get my fingers burnt again, but feeling compelled as I liked him so much.

Stupid heart. Wish I knew what to do. There’s still so much of the unresolved about this.

Am mooching like an angsty teenager now – melodramatic, unrequited love. Listening to this:

 

I’m seeing The Boy tonight, hope it’s enough of a distraction!

OKStupid

Here I have a douchebag who thinks he’s smart, mansplaining mansplanation to me & making himself look quite stupid in the meantime.

(After I put a line in my profile telling people not to bother writing if they were going to correct a joke I’d made in Latin which was obviously a little too clever for them to see it was a joke)

It was too funny & stupid not to share. Only an idiot would think the best solution to someone complaining about mansplainers is more mansplanation. Thanks for proving my point,  douchebag!

Blah blah blah bullshit. On ‘rules’

What a crock of shit. Be yourself, don’t be phony, don’t play games. Have fun, do what you want to do. Fuck ‘rules and especially ‘rules for women’, be yourself & have fun, that’s what it’s supposed to be about.

Reading this article makes me feel like I’m in some bullshit 50s timewarp. Fuck’s sake, now, there’s no excuse for this backwards thinking.

The Boy is quiet

I’ve been getting quite fond of The Boy. We see each other about once a week now. Mostly we go do something fun & social, get very drunk, then back to mine for sex & mooching.

It’s fun discovering each others’ bodies and sex is good too, but he’s so quiet. I’m not so very vocal or noisy, but I feel like I am being, because he’s so quiet next to me. He’s definitely having a good time, but I’m finding myself wishing he’d say more. It’s strange as he’s quite a talkative and articulate Boy & we are both very good at sex with each other.

It feels very decadent, having him as my lover. I think that’s what he feels too. So, my master-plan seems to be getting off to a good start. Seems like not very long ago, I was wondering what would become of my love-life & it’s pleasing to know that the little voice in my head was right. There are other, better ways of doing things, and experiments in living, are the way to find out.

Not seeing the woods for the trees

Today’s cliche of the day is ‘you can’t see the wood for the trees’. Which is one I agree with and see the wisdom in.

It’s good occasionally to take a step back and take stock of your life. Especially if there’s a lot going on. I’ve had a lot going on. The divorce, which I thought was going well, suddenly isn’t, and it seems that communication has broken down. I think the next few months will be very messy as we fight over the house, money and so on.

It kind of took me by surprise as I thought we’d agree to try & make it amicable, but I guess that money brings out the worst in some people. Am happy to say it’s quite nice up here on my moral high-ground when it comes to that. I decided long ago, that self-respect was paramount, it’s nice to be able to maintain that & it’s kind of showing him to be more of an arsehole than I’d realised.

All of the coming and going has got me down though, I’ve been feeling blue and under a lot of pressure. It made my perspective quite skewed and I’d lost my appetite for life, a little. But, it’s the little things in life which make you happy. Dealing with The Ex for the first time in so long, really dragged me down. I think it brought back some of the misery that I felt when I was still with him & trying to make it work. This morning I woke, feeling pure relief that I’ll have a clean break soon. Life’s not too bad, I was feeling sorry for myself when I woke up, I pulled the muscles in my backside & it hurts when I walk, sit or move – getting out of bed made me miserable. It was in the shower that I figured out that I must have pulled it during all the sex I had with The Boy yesterday. Then I smiled. Felt satisfied. Saw the woods again, in spite of the trees.

The Boy

So, there is someone I suppose I have started seeing, although, being an overthinker & commitment-phobic, I’m not sure, yet, I don’t think so.

I thought it would just be a one-night stand, but it’s turned into more regular fun than that. I find him quite exciting. It was exciting enough picking someone up and taking them home for the first time in many years, but he’s lots of the things that excite me on top of that. Opinionated, smart, tall, sexual & beautiful, curious and I feel quite comfortable with him. I think I’ve recently remembered that the most sexually stimulated part of me is my mind, which feels quite tickled around him. I’m 10 years older than him, but he’s a very smart & given me lots of food for thought, which is quite a refreshing change for me. I’ve missed being intellectually challenged. I get so bored so quickly with the unthinking ones.

I’m calling him The Boy, it seems fitting as he seems to be able to carry off calling women ‘girls’ and get away with it. It’s usually a bugbear of mine, but it’s cute (for now).

 

 

It’s not you, it’s me. Another cliché today.

I think I might have to have the “It’s not you, it’s me” conversation with the person I started sleeping with very recently. I think it would be cruel to do anything else.

On the whole, in the past, when I’ve had this conversation, I’ve just been polite. Mostly, it hasn’t been me, but them.

This time it’s different. It really isn’t him, it really is me. I have no fault with him. He’s lots of lovely things, I’m just not really into him, for reasons I can’t quite fathom. This makes it more difficult.

I hope he doesn’t feel hurt. I feel very sorry/guilty, even though I’m not sure I should. I feel cruel, but I know I’m not.

Sigh.

Todays cliche of the day – Once bitten twice shy.

Once bitten twice shy? Well you’d think so, wouldn’t you?

Having read my last post, you wouldn’t have thought that I’d make the same mistake twice. Yet alone with the same person!

Shouldn’t have slept with him again, really. Have always felt strongly that no sex is infinitely preferable to bad sex and I’ve proved myself twice right.

He stopped halfway through to ask if I was bored (I was, but I’d never be cruel enough to say so). He’s lovely, but there’s an absence of excitement and chemistry & that was reflected by my… unenthusiasm. Poor thing, it isn’t his fault.

Worst thing is I think he’s started to get attached. He’s using “we”, he’s started to talk about stuff he wants to do next month with me, even though I said at the start I was non-committing. He did that gazing at me with big eyes thing first thing in the morning, saying “you’re so lovely”. It’s freaking me out a little!

Ah, I’m a numbnut sometimes. I hope this post acts as an aid memoire, and I don’t find myself posting about twice bitten, thrice shy.