So Collarme is, I guess, dead. In the sort of tantrum-explosion that typifies the worst of the bdsm worlds. (From what I can tell, it was started by a couple and one of the two is destroying the site to get back at her ex who was also behaving abominably. Two people with the maturity of 13-year-olds.) Maybe it will come back, but only if the 13-year-olds grow up.
It is amazing how much of my life was defined by Collarme. It was where I met every single kinky relationship I ever had. I went to munches and other events in the area, but those always made my skin crawl. I don't even have my profile backed up! And I was fond of my profile. I think I figured out one aspect of myself with kindness and honesty. There are people I've spoken to that I have no other way of getting in touch with. I don't know how I would meet a kinky person again. Fetlife just doesn't work that way. I suppose I could try paying for bondage.com or alt.com, but those sites never appealed to me the way CM did.
But there is another truth, which is last year, when I was with Tony, I got a Mirena IUD. And it has pretty much destroyed my sex drive. I figured it was OK because it made me much smarter about dating. I didn't crave sex like an addict craves drugs, and I used to. I still enjoyed the couple of men I made out with, but I could totally control my behaviour. I figured if I met someone, I could have it taken out and I'd go back to the twice-a-day-is-great-for-weekdays rhythm. But if I don't meet someone, well I don't crave sex the way I used to. I'm still kinky; I'm just not ravenously hungry.
And I've been coming to terms with a single life. I would love a partner, but there's a lot I'm not willing to compromise on. One of my friends tried to set me up with a musician who needs someone to support his dreams and I immediately stepped out--I am not here to bankroll some guy's childish fantasies. I'll bet on my own dreams now; I don't have 100K a year to underwrite his. I don't need a man to financially support me, but I have no interest in supporting a man. (I would for a year or two, if someone I loved wanted to go back and get a degree, sure, we'd scrimp and make it work. But not a life of me doing all the earning; I will support his dreams, absolutely, but he needs to support mine too! I'd rather be single than the much-lesser half of a couple. Both our dreams need to matter.)
It makes me sad to think I'm going to be single for the rest of my life. Dotty still thinks we'll meet people. But I doubt seriously Dotty is going to--she's met every single single-man within a 100-mile radius of her and she doesn't do internet dating, so it seems to me that she is hoping that her ideal partner just happens to move to the barely inhabited area she calls home. Maybe someone kayaking from Canada to Cuba will have an emergency just by where she lives, but it seems statistically unlikely. And honestly, Dotty is such an amazing gem of a human. Any man would be SO lucky to have her. And she's hot! Well, that's not true. She's got a great figure, but she's more likely to be in rock-climbing clothes than Come-Fuck-Me heels. And she has a couple of grey hairs she refuses to dye. But she is such an incredible, amazing woman. It seems deeply unfair if the universe doesn't have a partner for her. Another friend of mine, who is a very religious Christian (but votes Democrat), with a heart of gold, who lives in a community that defines women as wives and mothers, is probably going to be single too. She just turned 40. It is hardest for her of all of us, and she is such a lovely, loving woman, who has grown so much and is so strong. And she is hot! Well, not really because she won't wear skirts shorter than her knees or plunging necklines, but she is a size 0 except at her chest. In a fair world, she would have a partner. But she wanted a man who saw her as an equal.
The universe is deeply unfair. And for the most part, I have been the beneficiary of a deeply unfair universe. From a world-wide stand, I'm in the top 1% in terms of wealth (world, not U.S.). I have a job I love, a beautiful home, and pretty much everything on the lower level of Maslow's hierarchy of needs I just take for granted. I bathe in unlimited, purified, heated water and have a fridge that is always filled by the click of a mouse (and a generous tip to the deliveryman--it is always a man). My ideas are sometimes heard and sometimes make a little difference. I max out my retirement contributions every year, even though I know I will inherit enough money to not need to worry; I intend to start a very small charity with the money I inherit. I'm working on my book proposal. And planning on having a child on my own next year. Somehow, there was always enough time in my plan to find someone to have a child with and there isn't time any longer. This time next year, I will hopefully be pregnant with an anonymous dad. And that's OK. My daughter won't have a dad; and that isn't fair. But she will have a lot of other privilege. She will have a mom who puts her first and fights like hell for her and has structured a life that leaves a huge amount for her daughter. She will get to take the first rungs of Maslow's hierarchy for granted and I will be able to open doors for her as a child that I couldn't even figure out where the locks were when I was an adult.
I am going to work on the building the life I have instead of the idealized one I want. I deeply miss sleeping next to a man. There's this primordial sense of hibernation that I crave. But you can't always get everything you want all the time you want it.
Collarme going done feels like the end of an era. Time to explore the second half of my life.
