Dualities and Identity

So I'm actually in NYC this week on business and I went to hear Molly Weatherfield read from Carrie's Story and it was bizarre.  Worlds collide!  I'm used to, at kinky things, being the hippie girl that doesn't fit in (although I don't think I dress like a hippie) and there, I was the kinky one!  It was a feminist/socialist bookstore and nearly everyone there looked like the people I grew up with.  Birkenstocks, not stilettos.

Molly's real name is Pam, and she's totally cool with that.  (Of course, it says so on her web page, so it isn't exactly a shock that she is open about it.)  And it is clearly fantasy for her, which was a bit of a shock for me.

And the bookstore was great--the sort of place where I could find information about the systemic destruction of the communities of my clients.  Next time I'm in NYC, I'm totally getting coffee and spending an afternoon browsing.  (It is a socialist collective run by volunteers!)

I felt so awkward.  More awkward than I have at any kink thing for ages.  Am I Connie or my other name?  I actually gave her my real name, and I realize, she's the first woman that has been at all aware of the dualities.

Joss Whedon gave a great graduation speech, where he said:

You have, which is a rare thing, the ability and the responsibility to listen to the dissent in yourself. To at least give it the floor. Because it is the key, not only to consciousness, but to real growth. To accept duality is to earn identity, and identity is something that you are constantly earning. It is not just “who you are,” it is a process that you must be active in.

So I guess my worlds colliding is really just earning identity.  But it is highly disconcerting! 

Palimpsest

Lately, Palimpsest has become my favorite word. (I think I'm not using it literally--it isn't so much the idea of paper that has 2 levels of writing, but the way that the echoes of the past become aware on the paper.)

I still love liminal, but somehow, being with Philip as much as I have (but not as much as I hopeI will be) has me in this oddly liminal moment that I don't recognize. Part of me really wants an orgasm. (Please?) But my brain thinks it is good we're taking it slowly (although I wish I had some sense of erotic imagery I can expect with Philip--most of the other stuff has lost its tug for me, as weird as that is.) I almost feel like I'm trying to become more innocent for him.  Removing the most recent text of eros from my body.  Not Tony--he left no traces. But, I suppose MaxEarnest. But not just MaxEarnest. Anne Rice.  Molly Weatherfield.  Their writings have left deep traces on my eros.  And little things too.  There was a man I was smitten with here (I don't remember the nom-de-blog I gave him), but it would have been November, 2010 for a few months), who taught me to wait for permission to orgasm, then he would count down from 10.  I started doing that always when I played with myself, and then MaxEarnest did that too.  I imagine that is a groove that is cut too deeply for me to not teach Philip.  Years ago, I tried to remove the Story of O from the fabric of my eros, but, occasionally, it will pop up as an image in the moments before I have an orgasm. Wash it away and it comes back.

Philip knows my history. It isn't like I'm trying to erase the past.  But I think my body thinks he is worth washing away the surface ink, the most recent acts to make it easier to make something new. 

For some reason, I re-read Safe Word (the Molly Weatherfield book).  The last 5 pages are beautiful, but not hot.  When I reread hot parts (multiple times over the years), I always appreciated knowing that Carrie would do well, would find a way to integrate both sides of herself. But rereading those final pages, I realize how incredibly deeply that book touched not so much my eros as my willingness to accept my eros.  In some ways, it even touched how I view some parts of my work.  I've published things (not kinky things) that are a result of the conversation that Carrie and Daniel have.

I wonder how medieval monks felt, washing the ink off a piece of parchment.  They found a 'better' way to do it in the middle ages that allowed them to remove completely obliterate that piece of parchment's history.  I suppose there were times I wanted to do that. To be truly innocent.  That will never happen and I wouldn't want it to anymore.  MaxEarnest taught me so much about how to make something like this work (and also a lot of wisdom about what wouldn't work) that I'm glad to be a palimpsest.  But maybe this time (which is exciting and also a little disconcerting) is needed for washing away the surface ink, while leaving traces that appear when least expected.

The Games we Play

Intellectually, I think everything with Philip is going really well.  I think the fact we haven't ripped each other's clothes off yet is a good sign.  I approve.

But when I got home from our last date, I ached to be touched.  And I couldn't fantasize about anything because I don't know enough yet what he likes to fantasize what we'd do.

I'm aware that there is a language of eros that is rewritten by each man I'm with.  So at the moment I'm in this liminal place that isn't a good liminal.  Bad liminal!

He called yesterday and we talked for over an hour.  But he didn't call today.  I sent an e-mail, but I know he doesn't check that e-mail often and I don't think I should call.  I really think women have to let men set the pace that the man wants.  It sucks!  I hate saying that!  But when I want more in a relationship that isn't yet defined, it usually scares the guy off.

I have been very hard to get, not because I was playing games, but because first I went on a cruise and then I went to visit my dad, and he clearly retained interest through all that.  I have a long trip planned next month too, and the brain part of me thinks we should hold off on actual intercourse until I get home because I don't want him to lose interest while I'm gone.  I will end up playing it by ear, and probably just follow whatever pace he sets.  Truthfully, I ache to surrender.  He's got my mind.  I hope he take my body soon!

Update: 2 hours later I phoned.  Left a voice mail saying "I didn't realize tomorrow as a holiday, so I'm not working. In case you don't have plans, give me a call."
Intellectually, I don't think I should have done it.  But I'm also pretty secure in it.
There are times I want attention, like a little girl wanting attention. And when it is that, I think I'm really right to resist.  But I think I also have to figure out how to just be me and have that be OK too.  I'm not sure the right balance.

Dating

I've been out 4 times over the last month-and-a-half with a sweet man, whom I feel really hopeful about.  Let's call him Philip. (We would have been out more, but I've been travelling.)

I'm reluctant to put many details up.  I feel like he isn't the kind of man I'd share this blog with, for a very long time, if ever.  I might, in a few months, mention I used to have a blog and tell him why I don't think it makes sense to give him the URL (as in, does he really want to read all my naval gazing?  And if he has my blog URL, I would totally expect him to read the naval gazing, and does that make sense?).

That said, Philip is courting me in a most decidedly vanilla way.  We've been out 4 times (usually for at least 6 hours a time) and talked on the phone, probably another 20 hours or so.  We have kissed passionately, but nothing more.  Yesterday, after the movies, we went to a bar and I had a couple of drinks and he made it clear he wanted to know more about why I would be on collarme rather than eharmony.  I was on a bench, in the corner of the restaurant, and he was next to me.  And he said 'I don't want you to feel trapped--you can leave any time you wish, or we can trade places.'  And I told him I sort of liked him having me against a wall.  I thought it was sweet.  It was a very sweet way for him to start dominating me, and also sexy.  It made me feel secure.  (We even exchanged last names!)

I get the sense that Philip struggled as much to accept kink as I did (or maybe not quite as much, but an awful lot).  I said on the 1st or 2nd date that I wanted a good man with a wicked streak, not vice-versa, and he said that yes, he was a good man and his wicked streak was kink.  (He also passed the baked goods test with flying colors.)

Of course, we're in the very early phases, where everything seems perfect.  But right now, he is thoughtful and dominate, while being sensitive.  He didn't understand what I meant about tone at first, but he really seemed to get what I meant by the time we got done talking.  We've also managed to have a level of openness about the early aspects of our interest in the other (and our both testing the other--he had tests for me too, which I found very amusing and he was shocked about my baked goods test because it seemed so obvious to him.  He said showing up for the date was a test for me and I laughed.  Also the fact that I looked like the person in my photos.  Although he encouraged me to be me even more careful with personal information.  He said I shouldn't send a photo that has been in any other place on the internet because google can track that down!  Ouch! And he thought I should use a fake name, rather than a homonym of my name.)

I'm also aware that I'm a really different woman with him than I used to be.  MaxEarnest has given me a confidence that isn't like the confidence I used to try and fake.  Even thought I've gained about 10 pounds (oy) since I first started dating MaxEarnest (how do I enjoy food and not gain weight?  That is a whole other issue), I feel really comfortable in my own skin.  Despite a few wrinkles around my eyes (only when I smile!) I don't think I've ever looked more attractive.  I'm even comfortable with how drastic the switch is when I'm submissive and when I'm not.  Philip certainly noticed it when he grabbed my hair, and then he experimented with putting one of my arms behind my back.  It has been fun and I don't feel the need to apologize for it. I've always felt a little embarrassed about being submissive, but I don't anymore.

Philip commented that is was hard for him to accept being dominate because he couldn't imagine why any woman would want to submit, which is interesting because it was hard for me to accept being submissive because I didn't intellectually think I should accept what the fabric of my eros craved.  Sort of weird mirrors of the same thing.

I'm sure I'll be back with all my angst on the blog.  Or maybe not.  Maybe it isn't fair to Philip if I blog with my angst in a place where MaxEarnest can read it and he doesn't know it exists.  I'm not sure.  I suppose I'll feel it out as I go along.  But at the moment, I'm feeling pretty optimistic and well-adjusted.  Which is a really boring place to blog from! So for the time being, I'm doing pretty darn well!

Giving Men, Taking Men and Mad Men

Can’t say that was an episode of Mad Men I wanted to watch with my dad....

So, spoiler alert. Don gets very Dom-y with his mistress.  He overhears her yelling at her husband (whom Don clearly adores) and gets very dominating. Or was that domineering. Anyway, he orders her to find his shoes on her hands and knees, and she doesn't (although she does find his shoes and put them on for him).  Then he orders her naked in bed and leaves for hours.  Calls her, then orders her not to answer the phone, or get out of bed, but there's a box waiting for her by the door, orders her to just exist only to please him.

It was so weird to watch it, because on one level, it would be the kind of thing that I find very hot.  And it really wasn't.  And it wasn't just that I was watching it with my dad.  It is that is was Don Draper, being Don Draper.  Using the women in his life for his pleasure and not giving a damn about them.  When he ordered her to wait (while he flew upstate to a business meeting), he took her book, so she had nothing to do.  When she was hungry, he ignored it.

And here's the thing, I think there are probably as many Don-Doms as there are MaxEarnest Doms.  Some men get off on control, but they are very giving.  I guess they are controlling-givers, perhaps protectors is a good label. MaxEarnest was a protector.  Other men either get off on taking, or they're just selfish and kink is a cover for the fact that they are self-centered.  They don't worry about other people's needs first.  They just take and take and take.  They don't care what turns their sub on, or weigh the benefits to one versus the costs to the other.  If it turns them on for 2 moments to think of their mistress in a hotel room, waiting for him, they'll take her book, because they don't actually care about her, only what she can do for him.  And when they finally meet up, he doesn't even acknowledge or appreciate the fact that she was just waiting there all day.  It is like her time doesn't matter. He'd never offer to wait for her. It is only what he wants! The ex was a taking-dom. As are the majority of men I've attracted.

The funny thing is, I love giving.  But I must have what I give noticed and appreciated and I need some attempt at reciprocity. Chivalry is lovely.  I want a man who will notice a puddle and turn me away.  A man who will, on the ballroom dance floor, literally have my back and allow me to trust him to lead because he will protect me. I think ballroom dancing needs to be a metaphor for kink for me.  I will obey him and he will protect me and give me a chance to shine. Chances are, I may give more; I seem to in many relationships.  But it should be somewhat balanced.

I've also noticed that when I'm with a taking man, I'm not secure in the relationship.  My energy feels more hyper.  I'm scared I'll do something wrong and he won't love me because he doesn't love me, only what I can do for him.  I have to scan things constantly to avoid mistakes and as I become more perfectionistic  he can become more critical. And when I was with MaxEarnest, I relaxed into the relationship.  My energy was more grounded.  I think I became more secure and beautiful, because he loved me.  ME!  I wasn't interchangeable.  And that was deeply beautiful.

Mad Men is so brilliant for many reasons, but I think watching Don Draper over time and being initially very attracted to him and then slowly repelled more and more has been so important for me!  It's funny--I told Mr. A-Cup (did I blog about him?  Guy on a date tells me he prefers women who are an A-cup, then sees a woman who is an A-cup (actually, I think she was more of a B) who was in the bar with her husband, and tells me how attractive she is!  Anyway I told Mr. A-Cup that he reminded me of Don Draper, and he said "thank you."  And it made me realize that a few years ago that would have been a compliment. Part of that is definitely the way the series has changed, but I think part of that has been me maturing a little bit too.

I have a new test for any guy I go out with.  On the 3rd date (give or take one) I bake something and bring him something.  Not huge, maybe half a loaf of homemade bread, or something like that.  (I usually check the morning of saying "hey--I made bread--want some?")  The test is that he needs to thank me for it.  It can be a text message or an e-mail.  He doesn't have to call.  But if he doesn't, then he really isn't a good fit for me.  I need someone that will appreciate my bread enough to tell me.  Of the four men I've made it to a third date with, only one has passed my test. 

Men behaving badly

A random senior citizen wrote me that I was an imbecile for using the world "liminal" and referring to stockings in my picture as fishnets.  "It's not a word, moron ... and if it is, tell me what it means. And obviously you don't know what fishnets are. Bottom line: Ignorance is always subject to mockery."

Now, in both cases, this random senior is factually wrong.  (Unless there is some size-rule about the size of the diamonds in fishnets? Mine are around half an inch each. If I'm wrong, tell me nicely!) Whatever.  Most men who insult me usually go with more generic comments and I find this amusing. But I also spent some time with it....

He said if it was a word, I should define it, so I did (relying on Victor Turner for the foundation and sent him a link to wikipedia's page on liminality).  I ended by asking him why he felt the need to insult women who'd never spoken to him and he did reply.

Don't try to hide your ignorance with big words. My eyes are fine ... those aren't fishnets, they're women's stockings circa 1930-1960. As for nether space? Please. Apparently that's the void between your ears.
As for why I'm "rude" to "random people," I'm quite courteous to 90 percent of most people h [sic] whom I communicate with on-line. But I do get a kick out of puncturing the balloons of the pompous.

Why do some men kinky guys find it appropriate to insult random women?  Presumably this random thinks he might, someday, meet someone in real life?  (And he has inspired the bitch in me, so I might add that he probably needs me to pay his social security, so he should be nice.) Wouldn't ignoring me be more conducive to getting one more chick off the market? Not that I'm dating someone who liked Ike. I have not seen this on any vanilla dating site, but it is relatively common in kink land.  At least once a week, some man e-mails me something nasty out of the blue. I don't get it.  Is it just because misogynists are drawn here and this is a good way of screening them out? Bullet dodged! Is it some version of power-play I don't get? Am I insulting someone in my profile without realizing it?

And, here's the other issue: why do I care?  Why don't I just block him?  What would happen if some 65 year old thought I made up the word liminal?  I love the word liminal.  I wish I made it up! Instead, I actually wrote him with care:

Meriam Webster has the basic definition: http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/liminal 

Victor Turner in his study of carnival popularized the study of liminality, which is that nether-space that is neither-and-both the places in=between.  It is the both-and place.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liminality 

To me, having a word that embraces the moments that are undefinable because they don't fit in is profoundly beautiful.

And that's when he told me the nether-space was between my ears.  What would happen if some 65 year old got his social security late and didn't get his eye glasses prescription updated and couldn't see that my seemed stockings are also fishnets?  Why is it so easy for me to become defensive?  Why can't I just laugh it off?

My mother used to say "be a duck."  I'm a shitty duck!  I cannot seem to let anything roll off my back.  I totally let work stuff roll off, but it is a force of will, and that is more exhausting than replying!  With everything else, it takes more energy to pretend to be a duck than to be my hedgehog self. 

What is very funny, though, is that I wrote him: "But I must say, you seem such a chivalrous and kind gentleman, I'm sorry that I have disappointed you. Clearly you would be a catch."  He wrote me back and started trying to flirt with me!!  He didn't get the sarcasm, and at that point, I just laughed.  And then I could be a duck.