The Secret Garden

I've been listening compulsively to The Secret Garden this weekend, which seems like a perfect album for a 13 year old girl.  (I used to love the show, but kind of forgot about it.  I was listening to an interview with John Cameron Mitchell, whom I really love from Hedwig and the Angry Inch.  I had absolutely no idea he originated the part of Dickon in The Secret Garden.  So I found my old CD and just started falling into the show.)  There is something so deeply beautiful about the show, And yet it is deeply unsatisfying.  It brings up SO much emotion in each of the stunning songs, but no character changes, learns, grows or develops.  I trust that isn't a metaphor for my life, but it does feel like a metaphor for my dating life.

Another unremarkable date yesterday.  Nothing like Friday's date.  But the service at the restaurant was so slow that we had to wait over an hour for brunch.  I hadn't eaten anything beforehand, not even my customary cup of coffee.  They clearly lost our order and our waitress was unhelpful, He complained first.  I complained second. He complained third, but by the time our meal came at 1 (and I usually eat something by 11), we were both a little a bit out of sorts. We had chemistry the last time we went out, and the truth is, if he'd grabbed me after brunch when we were walking in the park, we might have had it again, but he didn't.

But here's the real question keeping me up at night: do I go ahead with IVF or not.  I assumed that if the 26-year-old and I worked out, I would postpone that plan.  (Fuck it.  The 26-year-old needs a name.  My head keeps saying "you knew it wouldn't work out."  But my heart fell for him.  He is the last guy since MaxEarnest worth a tear.  He touched me in a way that MaxEarnest did. John did. Hell, Bobby did and I spent less time with Bobby and he was far more honest than Bobby.  Bobby merited a name.)  So, I assumed that if Martin, A.K.A. the 26-year-old, and I had been dating, we would have had a conversation in January or so and if he were serious, I would have postponed the whole parenthood thing. 

There are several intriguing men I'm talking with.  But there will always be intriguing men that I'm talking with.  It feels like CollarMe (CollarSpace technically--even its name has changed as it stays the same) is a lot more like The Secret Garden, even if they have very different target markets!.  There are these beautiful moments with interchangeable characters. A few moments stand out, but even with the few men actually become individuals, it is a moment. A marvelous moment. A beautiful, ephemeral time.   Each song or guy is really interesting on a self-contained level, but it doesn't go anywhere.  

Maybe my standards are much too high.  I was talking with a guy and his handle was something like "Intellectual Conscious."  And from what I could tell, he dropped out of college, doesn't read much more than his facebook feed, defines conscious as helping people, but doesn't volunteer.  I was intrigued he would define himself that way, but the more I talked to him, the more I felt like he didn't even have a clue as to what I could define his handle as.  Trying to make conversation was like pulling teeth.  I couldn't even understood why he messaged me.

I know I want to have a child.  I didn't want to until I was dating the first ex of this blog (someone else who probably deserves a name, but I don't have any emotional stickiness there, and, frankly, the way I let him treat me is best forgotten.)  But for the last 8 years or so, I have been pretty clear that I want to share this life with a child.  I don't know if the wisest thing is to hide my CM profile and just let go of that part of my life.  When said child (assuming I can get pregnant and have a healthy child) is 4 or so, I could always turn it back on.  If CM still exists then.  But who knows who I'd be then?  

Or maybe the occasional moments make it worth continuing to try.  I wish I knew the wisest thing to do.

Trust

The 26-year-old said something that I think was really wise.  My grandfather tried to sexually abuse me from a pretty young age.  You could absolutely call what he was doing grooming.  I've never really thought of it as problematic because I ALWAYS fought back.  I was in Kindergarten (or earlier, not really sure of the time, but we moved after kindergarten) when I threw water in his face when he wouldn't stop tickling me.  My grandmother was furious with me.  (Despite the fact that both her daughters confronted her with his persistent and far more traumatic abuse of both of them.)

The truth is, I've always been proud of the 6-year-old (or younger) who could take care of herself.

But the 26-year-old pointed out that I shouldn't have had to.

By the time I was 6, I saw men as someone I had to protect myself against.  

I don't really know what that means.  I clearly trusted MaxEarnest.  I actually trusted the 26-year-old.  I also see myself flipping quite quickly from "not-trusting" to "trusting."  Yesterday, I refused to tell Mr. half-an-hour-late where I worked and he was really annoyed with me on that.  (I think, in fact, that is when he started to pull away from me.) Maybe, like a 6-year-old, I don't have a good in-between-ground.  Someone is good or bad.  I'm not sure.  But maybe there was something there that I should tease out.

In the meanwhile, I should really be getting work done.  I seem to be procrastinating more than usually with this blog lately.  I have a grant proposal due in 8 days.  I have to focus!!!

Comedy of Errors

Dreadful date with the guy that demanded so very much.  I am annoyed at him--he asked me to wait outside, it is fricking freezing and he was over half an hour late.  I actually thought I was being stood up, and had paid to leave the parking garage when I got his text that he was coming.  (I had sent 4 gracious texts and called before I left.)  He was then a little annoyed that I hadn't stayed.  In the freezing for over half an hour.  And by the time we met up, any chance of chemistry was long gone.  

But whatever--that is small change in this world--a tiny inconvenience.  But I am left feeling out of sorts, needy, insecure and angry.  Not a lovely combination. I gave something I should not have given.  And I knew it at the time.  

There is that little voice that says "this isn't wise."  And sometimes that voice is right, and sometimes it isn't.  If I always followed that voice, I'd probably never leave my house.  But that voice was screaming loud and clearly. 

I look at what happened with this guy, and it started with very reasonable requests.  But each reasonable thing that I acceded to made me more likely to say "yes Sir" to the next. After all, I'd already done these things, what is one more? And all of sudden, he's asking me not to play with myself.  I told him I thought that was a bad idea, but he asked me to do it to please him.  And I did.

I'm not going to remember this twit in a week.  (I actually will put a note on his CM profile, next time he is online, to make sure that if he contacts me in 6 months, I remember to pass--I'm currently talking with a guy that I had made a note in my phone I didn't want to talk to again, because I forgot to put a note on CM.  Although the weird thing is, this other guy creaped me out but he never called me after I asked him not to and I think he's the only person I put a note on my phone.  He e-mailed very respectfully to see if I'd be willing to talk with him, so I think maybe I misjudged.  But I'm being wary none-the-less.)  But even though I'm not going to remember this twit, I need to learn from this.  I can't extend myself that way too often.  I see how quickly it could make me cynical, or it could make me go too far with the next guy, because it creates a void and if you don't avoid a void, it must be voided, usually in unhealthy ways. I have really good boundaries for information that keeps me physically safe.  (The guy today pushed REALLY hard about where I worked, and I refused to tell him and that was easy for me.  In part, because the truth is, I wear the ring that John had for a year.  I took it off when I was dating MaxEarnest.  But that is it.  I wear that ring and I have sort of promised myself that I will wear it until I'm dating someone that John would think is good enough for me.   And until that ring comes off, I know I need to keep myself safe.)

I'm glad I ignored that voice with the 26-year-old.  I'm annoyed I ignored it this week.  How to be wise and also take risks?  And how to deal with stupid things like today and not be cynical?

Being Dominated versus Submitting

I have a first meet tomorrow.  

It started off very fun--playful Dom-Sub thing.  He said a couple of times "please wear lipstick."  "I love lipstick."  "I really like lipstick."  I said, after the 3rd or 4th time, "If I forget lipstick, you can take me to Walgreens, pick out any color you like, and I'll buy it."  He said: "It would be saphora [sic] and it would be my treat."  And I said "That's no way to make me not misbehave, but I'll be good and remember my lipstick."  He said: "Leave your lipstick at home--we'll meet at saphora."  

Then, he said "I know I'm not seeing your underthings, but I'm rather particular.  Would you wear lace for me?"  So, yes.

But then he asked me to agree to not play with myself until our date.  I initially said yes, but this feels wrong.  It feels wrong and several levels.  

I don't know him!  I don't know if I'm going to like him!  We had a nice, hour-long conversation, but it was nothing like the connection I felt with the 26-year old.  I have a feeling, if he gives me instructions and I follow them after our date, I will end up being more drawn to him, more quickly than makes intellectual sense.

Also, frankly, I play with myself most nights.  It is how I fall asleep.  I have a stupid little injury right now that hurts, and it was SO hard to fall asleep last night.  And, of course, agreeing not to play with myself makes me want to play with myself even more!!  

But the other issue is I am submitting without being dominated.  It is so different for someone to grab my hair, look me in the eyes and tell me how to please him.

This is SO different from my first meet with the 26-year-old, who wouldn't give me any suggestions, even when I asked, but then grabbed my hair (and a lot of other things).  Not that I thought I was being wise there either, but I was being foolish in a different way.

But then I've always thought I wanted to strive to "Make new mistakes."  This is a new mistake. We talked about it this morning, and I did give him my word I would do it.  But my brain is saying "Constance--what the fuck."  But I am still submitting.  I guess I don't want to fuck up the chance of actually being dominated.  

Work & Perfectionism

So I got elected to the board, but no salary increase.  It is 90% good news and I'm trying to focus on the good.  I have a job as long as this organization is afloat.  But not getting the salary increase makes it hard to accept that I got elected to the board.  It is most excellent!  I want to feel that in my bones and not focus on what I didn't get.

With other people, I can always say "congrats!  Don't worry about what didn't happen" but with myself, I'm always focusing on what I didn't do.

Apologizing for living

I'm letting someone stay with me for a month--we're trading my guest room for personal training (although I have a bad enough injury, I may have to take a raincheck on the personal training).  She is a sweetie I've known for a few years, but I also see my constant apologizing exaggerated in her.  She literally apologizes for nearly everything.  I had someone coming to clean today and found her dusting before the cleaning person got here, and she apologized for it!  I tried to tell her that she doesn't need to apologize so much and how I've struggled with that, and she apologized for apologizing.  And I've done that too!!  But not for maybe a decade.

It's interesting because she and I are very different--she was very successful at doing the girly-thing and I was never good at that.  I was pretty darn successful at my career, and she wasn't so good at that.  But now, she's 57 and she looks amazing for her age, but she's 57. She still is a size 2 with long blond hair and a great figure, but she can't get by on her cute appearance with the guys anymore. Thus, I think, the personal training with women who are amazed at how good she looks for her age.  But $50 an hour on a piecemeal basis is a hard life when you don't have health insurance and the rest. Men were always happy to support her 30 years ago, even, I think 15 years ago. Now she is piecing together gigs, basically living a month at a time and she doesn't know how the hell she'll survive in 10 years.  I am in a much more solid financial position than her.  

As I've gotten stronger in the rest of my life, I apologize less. As she has gotten more precarious in her looks, she apologizes more.  But I think, from both ends, it is apologizing for not meeting an arbitrary standard of the male gaze.  I can't say I'm wiser than her--who the hell would I be if I'd been cute when I was younger? But I wouldn't trade my life for hers now.  Maybe if I could have had 30 years of being adored, but I don't think so.  I SO wish I had been adored by a man that I fell in love with.  But I look at her life, lived around that, when it didn't work the way she hoped, and I'm grateful it wasn't an easy option for me.

One of my friends, who is also struggling with being early 40s and single, says I shouldn't say "I'm not going to meet someone" I should say "I may not meet someone."  And I can see her wisdom, but I don't know how to build a life with the latter.  If I can accept the former, it feels like it would make an easier life.  But who am I kidding--I have two first dates already for the next couple of weeks, probably a third over Christmas (a guy who once again claims he'd move here to be with me--why do I always fall for that line?) and several more men I'm chatting with.  Clearly, I put energy into meeting someone.  Right now, though, it feels like a long-shot.

Underlying Insecurity

I rarely remember my dreams, but for the last couple of weeks, I've remembered a dream more nights than not, and they are all the same theme--I've done something wrong at work that I didn't realize was wrong.  I was sick this week and missed a day--I had a dream that a supervisor at work accused me of faking being ill; the following day I went to work and that night I had a dream that a supervisor claimed I had ebola and was infecting everyone--stupid shit like that, where I can't win (in my dreams) no matter what I do.  I am also under a huge amount of stress at work right now.  I'm being considered for a board, and if I get that, I will have a level of say in the organization and security that is unlike anything I've ever known.  If I don't get it, I will have to leave the organization, and if I don't, I may very well move to another city.  All signs indicate yes, but it is still a huge amount of stress.  During my waking hours, I'm fine.  Intellectually, I think this will happen.  But clearly part of me is freaked the heck out if it is defining every dream I remember.

I have a history of a couple of run-ins at work.  I've never been fired at a job (with the single exception of a telephone solicitation job 25 years ago, where I wasn't aggressive enough and deeply uncomfortable at calling people), but about a decade ago, a boss went after me, in a really, really weird way.  It was clear the board wasn't going with him automatically; they thought it was weird too.  But I left the job--it wasn't a job worth fighting for.  4 years ago, something similar happened (at the organization I'm at now) and I fought and the organization removed that supervisor.  I volunteer for this other organization, and there are a dozen people there that hate me.  (Although I think they're really just mad at math and I'm the one who does the math.)  But there are more who love me. I do have rough edges, but once I get past those edges I have a lot of support. But there are precedents for me being freaked out about work, and this is the highest-stake thing I've ever gone for.

But also I think it comes back to something the 26-year-old identified that I haven't sufficiently dealt with.  I tend to assume I've done something wrong that I didn't know about.  I tend to deal with it by trying to be perfect.  I know I"m not actually perfect, but I work to be above reproach in everything I care about.  I remember when MaxEarnest punished me, once.  He had never done it before, and it broke something between us because I had just been relaxing around him and not constantly monitoring my behaviour and when he said I'd done something wrong (that I didn't think was wrong), wrong enough to be punished, I never relaxed the same way around him. To his credit, he stayed with me when it felt like things were shambled, and we worked through it.  (And he agreed he'd never punish me again.)  But that sense of freedom, that I could just be myself around him was much harder to find.

Much of it came from the criticism I've grew up with. Of course there was the bullying too.  But I also seem to have rough edges that annoy people, probably in part because I can only monitor my beahviour so much, so when I don't care about a situation I can have a short fuse.  I tend to assume people are as judgmental as my father, and the truth is, I'm more judgmental than I would like to be.

For the most part, I have moved beyond this in my public, waking life.  I do have fleeting thoughts of judgement when people act badly and I have a shorter fuse than I like (I hope no one starts texting around me during The Hunger Games because I have very little tolerance nonsense like that).  But for the most part, I think I'm a good person, who mostly behaves with kindness and rationality.  But, clearly, in my dreams at night, I'm one sneeze away from being fired.  And when I do actually surrender, I need approval.  Part of it is hot, but part of it is more than being hot--that private girl needs approval and praise. 

Blogging

I don't know what to do with this blog.  I know it is important to me. There is something about this, where almost no one who reads it knows who I am, that enforces a honesty and a critical distance about what the heck is going on in my life that I don't have anywhere else.  I try (and I think I succeed because people keep reading it) to pull back from individual situations to bigger issues that more people might feel.  It has been far more useful to me than any therapy has ever been.  When I'm upset, it helps me figure things out.  Granted, I may not always figure the right thing out, but there is a power to it that I cannot deny.

But.  Is it healthy?  Is it ethical? 

The first question is how it affects me.  I think it makes me more introspective, and I'm probably pretty deep on the introspective side anyway.  Being raised by a shrink, I value the hypothetical process of therapy, even if I can't get that with a therapist myself.  But in therapy, you are in relationship with another person.  It is naval gazing, without a doubt, but naval gazing with connectedness.  This is just pure naval gazing.  I feel like there is a way that I am able to bridge a gap between my intellect and my emotional side--I have much more perspective on what makes me tick than I would have if I didn't blog here.  But maybe I don't need anymore perspective!

Sometimes I wonder if it further bifurcates me--if I'm more likely to save my feelings for here, rather than deal with them in real time.

But if it were only question of how it impacts me, I would keep the blog.  But how it affects someone I might be involved with is the issue that nags.  Is this a fair thing to do?  Part of me says it is OK because it is anonymous.  No one would ever be able to figure out who I'm actually dating.  Their nom-de-blogs are so obscure that I've honestly forgotten almost all their names, except MaxEarnest and John.  MaxEarnest picked his own nom-de-blog and John read my blog so I don't have ethical questions there.  

But, if I do meet someone I want to date, does the existence of this help or hurt?  When do I owe him a hint of its existence?  At what point in a relationship should I stop blogging if I haven't told him about it?  I don't like to blog about guys until after the 2nd date because, really, why? But then, they are actual people, and I'm capturing only one side, through my lens, completely. I really felt like the blog was good for MaxEarnest and I, but I wouldn't have told him it existed if I thought we were going to get together.  I felt like it hurt John and I, because he would read sometimes, but not others, wanted me to tell him things directly, instead of blogging about it (although he never once asked me to not blog--he just asked me to tell him directly), but sometimes I'd tell him something and he'd have already read it and be impatient.  I thought he knew some things and learned later he hadn't. And the truth of the matter is that I tend to keep my emotional cards fairly close to my chest, and this allows that more.  When I stop blogging about something, I'm more likely to tell the person I'm involved with.

There's a guy I'm talking with right now, nothing serious, but I was aware that I could easily have told him about this blog after he asked me a question and I didn't.  And that makes me wary. Of course, we all leave information out when we're dating.  I agonize over when to tell a guy that I'm not comfortable with abortion as a form of birth control.  The blog may be more like that--something he should know before it gets serious, or something I need to let go over before it is serious, if I want to keep blogging.  But it also feels like a bigger deal than that I personally don't want to use abortion as birth control--it certainly opens up a lot more for discussion, if he is at all curious. It leaves me uncertain as to whether this is a good thing or not.

Friendship

There's this guy (who occasionally reads this blog, so, yes, I've written this for you, gentleman with whom I had coffee a week ago after you nudged me for a year about it) who has a girlfriend and REALLY wants to be friends.  After we had coffee, it made me SO sad. Keeping tears away on the sidewalk. And I have no idea if I'd want to date him.  If I were his girlfriend, I'd be pissed at how much he has sought me out. But his girlfriend is out of town and he just invited me out for an evening that could absolutely be described as a date.  And he pressures me.  He doesn't take "this isn't wise" for an answer.  But it isn't wise.  It will make me feel like shit about myself.  It will remind me that I missed the boat and that pretty much everyone my age has paired up that is going to.  I love Dotty dearly, but I don't think she's going to find a partner.  And none of my friends are.  The men my age who are single are really not, for the most part, worthy of the women my age.  

One of the many things I'll say for the 26-year-old is that he respected my wish and didn't pressure me to be friends.  Part of me wishes he and I could be friends, but only because I hope it would change his mind, and that isn't healthy. If there were a 10% chance, I would put all my hope there. Part of me thinks it was good he broke it off because we clearly have different approaches to some things.  But if he had pressured me to be friends, I probably would have, keeping hope alive in a stupid, self-destructive way that would have eaten away at my self-esteem and confidence.

Tony was so angry with me for not wanting to be friends (after he treated me REALLY badly) that he said some things that were really cruel (and obviously stupid--claiming I trapped him into a a job where he would bump into me once a month or so and now I was breaking up with him, but he'd still have to bump into me sometimes--was he 12? I was like "yup, it will be awkward the first time, but then we'll get over it and be adults." Nearly 2 years later, he's still working at the job, so how much of a trap was that really?  But he's weird when we bump into each other--sometimes acting like we're friends and sometimes completely ignoring me if I smile and say hi.) We have a friend in common and she has finally stopped pressuring me to be friends with him, but I can tell he is still trying to get her to change my mind.  

 MaxEarnest and I are very distant friends--I stopped e-mailing him much because it felt like I was sending far more e-mails, he'd take a week to get back to me and I got the sense that he needs to move on.  He has a girlfriend, and I'm really happy for him.  I'm sure his current girlfriend is a much better match for him, but even there, it makes me sad.  I'm not in love with MaxEarnest--I know that we couldn't give each other what we each wanted.  But it still makes me sad because I did love him.  But with MaxEarnest I could be friends because we gave it a try, we loved each other, we were kind to each other, we broke up with respect and love.  And we want contradictory lives.  

I wrote about this a while back.  This is not a new thing for me.  The guy has a girlfriend and wants my friendship, doesn't seem to look at how much it costs me.  Being with him feels like this huge rejection.  I know it isn't, but it feels that way.  It feels like I missed the boat and he wants me for my friendship, whatever that is worth, but it is this constant reminder that I'm alone.  I wonder what his girlfriend has that I don't.  Part of me thinks it is luck.  But part of me thinks there is something that makes me just not girlfriend material. 

In all honesty, I was in a good space today.  I had a lovely weekend.  I was listening to Caroline or Change in the car this morning and that moment that moves me SO much when Dotty says

Once you was quick,
and once you was bright;
now it seem you come to some confusion,
you losing courage, you losing light,
lost your old shine,
lost Caroline.

(And for newer readers, I named my friend "Dotty" off this line--because Dotty is the person in my life that would notice that I'm losing light, and that means so much to me!) And I was thinking that I really, right now, am back to my old Connie.  I found my courage, my light, my shine.  

But it is an equilibrium that I need to cherish and protect.  Hanging out with someone, whether or not he and I would date if he were single, burns.  It is pretty clear that he has never fallen in love with anyone.  But I love fully and deeply.  My emotions live closer to the surface.  He is playing with fire, but those around him are the ones who get burned.

Laughter and loss

Due to the craziness of tangents, I watched Robin Williams.

I watched this back when it came out, but after he killed himself, I watched some of his things to cry, but not to laugh.  I couldn't laugh.  But today I watched and laughed and laughed and laughed.  And then I watched Live from the Met.  And laughed some more.

The desire for permanence is so great.  But even knowing how much pain he was in, I'm so glad we have his amazing work. When I saw "Live from the Met" (on VHS!)--I didn't know I could laugh that hard. But I also didn't know you could say a lot of things he said. I'd never heard anyone talk like that before. But in addition to the swearing and sex, there was also such profound vulnerability and humanity.  His willingness to talk about his short-comings gave me permission to look at my own (when I was a teenager--I'm sure something would have, but it was Robin Williams for me.)

Laughter is so powerful.  It really does heal whatever. At least for most of us. I'm doing OK.

Chemistry

I'm deeply sad.  Dotty's wallowing rule or not.  I'm having stress dreams--awful dreams (running away from terrorists that are shooting people dreams), but the good news is I've lost 4 pounds in one week!!  Almost no sweets of any kind.  I'm beginning to think I need to just not have sweets in general.  And I'm also thinking that I can do that.  I haven't in the past felt like it was realistic to not have any sweets, and I'm not giving up stevia in my coffee, gum or mints.  But overall, I think I can.

So I went out with a the guy from CollarSpace that I rescheduled for next week because I wasn't emotionally ready on Wednesday, he was originally busy on last night and today and I was busy on Sunday, but he had a change of plans for last night.  We'd spoken with for a long time over a year ago, but he never seemed to want to go out, and then after I put my profile back up, he got in touch.  We spoke quickly on the phone and we went out.

He was sweet.  Very complimentary--spent time trying to decide if I looked more like Dianne Wiest 20 years ago, Candace Bergen 20 years ago or Renee Zellweeger 5 years ago.  He clearly liked me, was respectful, we talked some kink and some other things.  A 6 hour date.  And I was bored.  The 26-year-old got very sexual very quickly on the first date, and I didn't put the brakes on because we'd had such great phone conversations and also there was just something about him.  But that is really not typical for me.  (I wasn't even wearing cute panties when I gave them to him.)  If he was as bored with me as I was with this guy last night when we weren't being sexual, I totally understand why he wanted to move on!

The guy last night had been reluctant to go out with me because I seem willing to go out with anyone normal.  And that is true.  I tend to think you can't really know whether you like someone from a profile.  People are putting their best selves forward and we tend to fill blanks the way we think they would best be filled.  He, on the other hand, only wanted to meet a special few.

He said, and I think it is a valid and interesting point, that "there are too many fish in the sea."  And because there is a constant-stream of kinky guys (which I would dispute--I think for the gals who are incredibly hot, and put up photos of their faces or sexually explicit photos, that is true, but I get messaged by maybe 5 guys who are possibilities a week), that there is very little reason to settle with someone rather than just say "next" as you go through a constant stream.  I think he he's got a good point there.  I'd like to think that I don't do that too much, but the chance of me to feel like I could actually fall for someone, that comes very rarely.  John.  Max-Earnest.  The 26-year-old.  Even with Philip, I thought maybe there was a possibility, but it was more of a hypothetical.  And the conversation was really good. I'm sure there were a few more.  There was a guy before John (and I forget the name I gave him here), but he was, I think 17 years older than me at the time, and I wasn't attracted to him, until he took my shoulder, turned me towards the table and said "do you want to sit there or" (and he turned me to a different table) "there."  It was such a simple way of him taking complete control and also care and in that moment, I began to fall.  I think I could have fallen for him.  (Oh, and all these men dumped me.  Except MaxEarnest.  And I think I hurt him--I wish I could have not hurt him.  But when I offered to quit my job and move to Europe if he'd move with me and get a job, that was as much a compromise as I've ever offered to anyone.  That was me jumping with both feet.  I love my work and I love the economic stability of my life.

 Last night's guy said he got nervous on a first meet and I told him I'd go out with him again (so I will, if he wants to, but I was out of it, kept thinking about the 26-year-old, and doubt I made a good impression--I actually excused myself to the ladies room a couple of times to wipe my eyes).  But conversation was hard work, except when we were drinking.  (We went to a nice neighborhood bar, then he wanted to take me to his favorite bar, but there was an hour-and-a-half wait to get into his favorite bar, so we went to a diner in between.  While we were at the dinner, two teenage boys opened the door and started screaming.  I ducked under the table.  Thus the terrorism dream.)  I enjoyed him more at both bars than I did at the diner.)  He is smart but not as wise as the guy almost half his age. I felt like I did most of the work of the conversation. I felt like he talked at me--conversations didn't go anywhere.  

And I kept wishing things had gone differently with the 26-year-old.  There are so few people I feel like I connect with, and I really thought we did.  I have to think there was something else and he was trying to be kind, because this just doesn't make any sense.  I wish I knew what was really going on so I could just let it go.  Because there are so few people in the kinky world that I can have conversations with on that level--moving conversations from phone to person seems like a very small issue that a few more dates would have handled.  Ah well.  I got over John.  I got over MaxEarnest.  I will get over this.  But, while I can keep to Dotty's 3-day rule in public, I'm really faking it.

One last wallow

I had a lovely conversation with Dotty, and asked her about my Jane Austen/wallow away dichotomy.  As always, she has a wisdom I seem to lack.  "Wallow for 3 days and then move on--but you get to wallow for 3 days about the election too, so if it gets mixed up, that's OK. ... and [she went on later] we won't have a chance to talk before your wallow days are up, so if you want to wallow this weekend with me, you can.  But then you should try to move on."  And I have a date tomorrow (with a guy from OK Cupid, so I'm not exactly holding my breath), so, as always (when it doesn't involve a map or yoga), Dotty is right.

Dotty is convinced I'm going to find a real partner (as is even my brother, which really surprised me because he seems so critical of me so much of the time). When I'm in a place like Portland Oregon, I really think I would find a partner relatively quickly there, but my job is too good for me to quit for a fantasy hop.  I've had offers here, but no one I could see as a partner. If  I continue to live here, intellectually I think I do it on my own, and I don't know if it is wiser to build a life with the assumption I'm not or try to hold out.    My head says the former. On Mirena, my heart went along with the former, but now my heart is screaming "NO."

Since this is my last wallow, a couple of things

MetaCommunication

I really wish I'd figured out metacommunication with the 26 year old.  I thought I was following his cues. When we first met, he said he couldn't wait to play with me.  Normally I'd be like "I don't play" but I trusted him from the phone that I knew he didn't mean just casually.  On the first date, about 20 minutes in (!) he asked for my panties.  Which was really hard for me, but I'd liked him so much on the phone, that I did what he said.  But it did put me in a far more sexual place with him.

On our second date, I had not intended to invite him in. I hadn't tidied at all, nor had I shaved my legs. But it was raining.  So that happened.  He wanted to show me an episode (of Dotty's favorite show), which had been too stressful for me when Dotty wanted to watch it with me.  In fact, it picked up exactly at the moment I'd told Dotty it was too much for me.  He cajoled me (and the truth is, I like being cajoled), and I liked being in his arms.  He fast-forwarded through some parts which I took to mean he would be happy to be done with it, but he wasn't.  He really wanted me to watch the parts he liked, but I didn't get that.  

I don't know how to do that communication about communication easily and lightly.  It seems like it would be a simple thing to make changes to, but I also know, it my family, it was fraught with a huge amount of criticism.

Breath Play

I took breath play off my profile as something I love.  Now the only specific activity is having my hair pulled, but I added something along the lines of "there are a couple of other things that I'd reveal over the course of time."  Breath play is the most dangerous thing I do, by a long shot.  It is the only way, doing BDSM, that a person of good will can accidentally really fuck you up (other than STDs). 

I think that my concern over the physical safety hid that it isn't emotionally good for me to do that too soon.  It puts me in a very vulnerable place, almost instantly, especially if a man chokes me.  It is incredibly powerful and compelling, but also pulls me in emotionally more quickly than I should let myself be pulled in.

I have another kink that I've never actually told a guy while I'm dating--I like being cajoled.  Part of that is, I think, part of the natural DS dynamic.  But I think it goes farther for me.  I want to be pushed into doing things that I don't actually like doing.  I remember once when MaxEarnest had an incredibly hot scene that involved me having plastic in my mouth.  Some plastic doesn't have a flavor, but this was the horrible cheap plastic flavor and I told him it tasted bad and he changed it!  Which was so thoughtful.  But it would have been equally fine for him to say "you're my toy, and you will do what pleases me.  Who is in charge here?"  But the line as to when that is OK and when it is not is SO subtle, I never even told MaxEarnest that.  I would never put that in my profile because that isn't even fair to a guy to know that--how the hell is he supposed to know when it's hot to be cajoled and when it is numb-inducing.  Especially with me who doesn't use a safeword well.  I sort of have it in my mind that if I ever have a year-long anniversary with a kinky guy, when things are feeling amazing, I'd drop this little piece of info for his enjoyment.  But I don't know that I'll ever get to that point.

I'm not putting breathplay in this category.  I think I could tell someone after a month or two.  After he has said he loves me and I know both that I love him and I'm open to falling in love with him.  It is emotional dynamite--it shouldn't be played with casually.  It makes me surrender too quickly.

Surrendering too soon.

Finally there's the whole weird thing I do that makes it hard to move on.  When I actually surrender to someone, I stop being interested in naughty books or things on my own.  Right now, I'm re-reading Safeword (by Molly Weatherfield) and the Anne Rice Beauty books.  My typical naughty reading is short stories, but these are all-encompassing enough that they help me re-orient towards imaginary scenes and partners instead of real ones.  But it is hard!!  I keep thinking of things on the 26-year-old's profile, even things I wouldn't necessarily want to do but could be cajoled.  It's still enough, on this, my last day of wallowing with my grace days from the election, to make me cry.  But I don't think I have to take Dotty up on her kind offer tomorrow.

More on Mirena Side Effects

(Boring for everyone not considering a mirena.)

I had a hell of a week--really an emotional roller coaster.  The election plunged me into a despair I haven't felt since the 1994 election.  I handled 2004 better than this.  I'm sure the dumping didn't help, but I was far worse than I expected.  It was so bad, I actually rescheduled a date that I had agreed to on Sunday, before the phone call, because I didn't feel ready to meet someone new.

 And then I got my period 3 days early.  So I blame the Mirena.

FWIW, Dotty is an MD, and she said she has noticed a lot more side-effects with hormonal implants than have been reported.  Also, multiple friends have noticed their sex drives go away.  (I do not have a single female friend, who got the mirena, who reports a healthy sex drive.)

For me, the effects have been a lot more widespread than that.

My emotions on the Mirena were a very even keel.  Things seemed relatively easy, but things were also deadened.  I didn't have any panic moments, or crippling fear, but Beethoven's 9th didn't move to me tears.

The 6 weeks since I took it out, my emotions have been more mercurial than they were before I got the darn thing. I thought that the 26-year-old was someone I could fall in love with, a feeling I haven't had for a very long time. I found myself singing when I walked along the shore.  I really felt a lot of joy.  But I'm also having far more extreme reactions to negative things.  Both anxiety and sadness are really amplified.  I think within another month or two, my emotions should be back to pre-Mirena normal, but it was far more extreme than I expected.  And I didn't really notice the emotional changes while it was in because it came on really slowly: eh, I'm bored with music; eh, none of the men I go out with are interesting; eh, I don't really care about anything enough to need to blog much. It didn't happen at all once, but in hindsight, I'm surprised how much it affected me.

Periods on the Mirena were not only regular for the day, they came at the same time every day.  I had no cramps, no PMS and they only lasted for 3 very light days.  Now that I've taken it out, my periods haven't been regular for either month.  Last month was so heavy, it was sort of scary.  Like 'emptying-my-diva-cup-every-half-hour.'  At one point, I thought about going to the doctor's office--I was losing so much blood.  When I first got it, I bled for an entire month, but then it was actually great for reducing my periods.

I would not recommend the Mirena, but it also makes life easier, if more boring.  I would consider trying the copper one, but I really think hormonal birth control has a pretty darn huge impact on emotions that has not been well researched or reports.  There is a question as to whether it is better to feel less, both joy and pain, but I'm on the side of feeling more.

Stocism

I sometimes tell my friends, when I'm trying to avoid sounding maudlin even when I'm feeling it, that if my life is being scripted by Jane Austen then I will have a great life, but I'm so scared it is being scripted by Anton Chekhov.  

But Jane Austen valued stoicism.  Not only am I not particularly stoical, I don't honestly know if I should strive for stoicism.  

I checked synonyms for stoicism because I don't like using the same word in three sentences: endurance, passivity, patience, sobriety, indifference.  More words related: apathy, austerity, calm, fatalism, indifference, self-control, peaceful.

How the heck can one idea have such positive and negative things associated with it?  My British grandmother believed in stoicism and I adored her SO much.  I still miss her all the time.  But the only time she ever yelled at me in anger was when I was in about the 6th grade because I had some grapes from the center fruit arrangement and I didn't cut them off, I pulled them off, leaving the ugly stems for everyone to see.  I seriously doubt that was what bothered her.  She may not even have been mad at me.  She shoved everything down and it erupted and I'm sure she felt awful about it.  She also had a psychotic break before I was born.  She dealt with it, came back to her family and was an awfully giving, loving woman.  I think we adored each other mutually.  I can't imagine she ever faked the love I felt from her.  I have such uncomplicated love for her, and it is possible she just hid it when things I did bothered her (except the grapes, which really wasn't a big deal--an odd moment in a life of love).

I, on the other hand, try, when I'm in pain, to really feel what I'm feeling.  I believe that if I don't, it will dull joy I can feel and also is more inclined to make me cynical. I used to go to munches and there were women there with dead eyes.  When I smile, it still reaches my eyes. And I do believe stoicism can lead to a deeper sadness. But part of me wonders if Jane Austen (and my grandmother) are right.  Is it wiser to fake moving on--does the faking makes it easier?  Am I feeding the feelings or freeing them?

I'm having such a hard time moving on.  If what the 26-year-old says is true, it seems like such an easy thing to fix.  Honestly, I thought I was following the dance he was leading, until the last date.  And the last date, I felt like he was breaking up with me in every gesture.  I feel like if he had just kissed me once, quickly but warmly, I would have just relaxed with him and we would have had the kind of conversation in person that we had on the phone.  

Or maybe not.  I did notice on multiple occasions, I refrained from giving advice.  I tend towards the busy-body and there are a couple of areas where I do have more experience.  I even told him I was biting my tongue when he was bragging about something that I thought was really foolish and that was probably obnoxious. He also is more skeptical about politics than I am.  (Or maybe that isn't right exactly--I'm deeply skeptical about politics and I know the Democrats are seldom right, but I also believe, deep down, that the Republicans are not always wrong about everything, they are a dangerous cancer on our country and until they can move away from the cliff, we have to support the Democrats, even as we hope for a return to sanity on the part of the Republicans. It isn't that I'm naively idealistic, it is that I'm Manicheanly melodramatic.  I don't believe the Democrats are good, but the Republicans are evil!  And less evil is, well, less evil.  It's election day--pardon my rant.)

He is much more skeptical about the media than I am.  I can criticize much of the media, but he is far more rigorous in his expectations of unfiltered news than I am.  I'm fine with editing things down.   He and I share some popular culture interests (The Daily Show, The Colbert Report, John Oliver, I think Game of Thrones, but we never talked about it in depth), but other things he really enjoys don't engage me the same way. They're funny, but not necessarily memorable to me. And I sent him one of my favorite clips and he either didn't watch it or didn't like it; I didn't push it, but it was only 4 minutes long and if he had liked it, it was a relatively accessible way to explain some things I love dearly.  I also gave him a book by one of my favorite authors and mentioned my two favorite naughty books that I thought he might like, but books take time and that didn't happen.  I almost bought him tickets to a musical I like that is currently playing, but that felt too much a splurge when I actually was going to buy them--something for a month from now.  But he has never been to live theatre!

All of which is to say that it is possible we exhausted the things we cared about in common.  We had amazing conversations about religion and I really would have loved to know more about how he experienced some presence of the divine.  I prayed for decades to believe in God and that didn't happen, but he seems to have something genuine.  I'm jealous of that.  I respected his views on journalism but political activism is too important to my identity for me to question where I am on that right now.  It is possible the Democrats are just as awful as the Republicans, but if I believed that I think I'd end up on the nihilism/apathy spectrum of stoicism, and I get really, deeply depressed there.  I have to believe that the arc of the moral universe is slowly bending towards greater justice because, in some ways, that's how I justify my existence.  It is possible we could have started to develop another set of interests together (I would totally have taken martial arts with him, he was open to taking dancing with me, and he had an openness, to doing some of the things I love). But it is possible it would have taken work, or that we wouldn't have developed things.  

My head says "It couldn't have worked; be glad it ended quickly."  But my heart says "this is a man I could have fallen in love with; a pretty extraordinary man that could have cherished both my sides--he just wanted more of one of them. I could have supported him too--we might have been extraordinary together."  And if he was telling me the truth, it seems like such a little thing that would have been so easy to fix.  But, then there's still 16 years between us, and that would have impacted things in lots of ways.  Nevertheless, I cried myself to sleep, then woke up in the middle of the night.  I'm glad he called me to end things with kindness, but it is painful too because when I thought he'd just disappeared, it made me think he wasn't whom I thought he was.  And that would have made it easy to be indifferent, apathetic and fatalistic, but maybe not patient, calm or peaceful.  Maybe accepting that he was a really good man and it just didn't work because fate sucks sometimes (but not always) is the best way to keep joyous eyes.

Both Sides Now

So the 26-year-old called to dump me.  He was very kind and very mature and very intelligent.  It was so hard to keep him from hearing me cry.  And I thought I had accepted it.  Seriously--Thursday was confusing.  I had suggested multiple things, but everything I suggested didn't appeal to him. Friday was hell, but by today I thought I was fine (fine enough to put my profile back up), but he was so darn extraordinary on the phone. He reminded me of why I cared!

Basically, I think my bifurcation didn't work for him.  What he said was we had these amazing phone conversations and I was a different person in person--very flirty. He liked Connie, but he wanted the Constance from the phone in person. He actually wanted both sides: my intellectual side didn't come out and play (not kinky play--intellect play). I really wish he'd told me that!!  And, maybe, he shouldn't have asked for my panties on the first date!  He set up one way of approaching our relationship, and then wanted something I had no clue he wanted until it was too late.  And the weird thing is all my life I've tried to not bore guys with my intellectual side.  (And I'm, of course, obsessed with the election right now, but I'm a party-line Democrat and he is more nuanced--like how I was before I voted for Nader instead of Gore.)

But I'm famished to surrender.  I hadn't submitted to anyone really since MaxEarnest.  There is part of me that craves surrender.  And after he choked me and I trusted him to do it, I just surrendered. He could have asked anything, and I would have said yes.  I told him he could slap me on my face, which I've always had as close to a hard limit (except for MaxEarnest), because I knew he'd be careful. It felt so amazing to surrender. That part of me doesn't even get to exist right now.  And I can't just go to a club or something.  I get emotionally attached when I surrender. I try to satiate it with ballroom dancing, but that is more like a tease than a surrender. I ached, in my bones for it.  I have lots of people I can deconstruct things with.  It's like I hadn't had any water in years, but I've had all the chocolate I want, and he's had water, and hasn't had the mix.  And I just want to drink and run my hands through it and jump in it. Surrendering to him felt like playing in a beautiful lake after a grueling hike on a summer day.  I wanted to do somersaults and handstands and dive in the water and just be that weightless, joyous mermaid of a swimmer, moving effortlessly though water that feels like home.

I so wanted to beg him for another chance.  I could be that intellectual woman in person--I know I could.  But I can't be both the intellectual woman and the surrendered girl at the same time.  The part of me that submits, just likes to follow.  He liked pushing me back and forth between the two, and it was weird, but fun. And frankly, I probably need to just submit to someone for a week, 24/7, before that side of me will be satiated enough to be around someone I've surrendered to and not want to surrender.  It is so hard keeping high standards with all this.  Friday I ached to just go to a club and get spanked, but I am wise enough to know that that would make me bitter pretty quickly.  But I wish I could separate the two.  I was SO looking forward to the 26-year-old spanking me on my birthday.

And the truth is, my bifurcation is pretty extreme. I go from an articulate, sometimes-wise woman to a fairly unsure girl on the flip of a coin.  There was another guy (the one I referred to as "the Republican" before MaxEarnest) who had a similar reaction--he felt like I was playing dumb when I was submissive.  

I don't want to say I'm not playing dumb, I am dumb.  Because it isn't that I'm dumb.  But I don't get irony is that place.  I desperately want to please, and I want validation that I have pleased.  I feel like I'm 14.  Old enough to be sexual, but not cynical, or sophisticated enough to get double meanings or anything.  Constance has quite a bit of confidence, but Connie doesn't. And the truth of the matter is that I had a lot of conditioning growing up that I should be dumb when I dated.  "A lady always laughs at a gentleman's jokes Connie."  "Connie, you musn't dominate the conversation."  "The Talented and Gifted program is only for girls with bad social skills--try to be nice to the other kids so you can get out of the special program."  (Yes, I was told that.  And yes, I had poor social skills--but they were not linked.)  I love playing at being dumb with people who know that I'm smart, because that issue of being smart is still very charged for me.  (I got to do improv with Lizz Winstead last month and we were both playing the dumb gal the Republicans think will pick a candidate like a dress--it was SO much fun!)

I'm scared that the man who likes the intellectual Constance will never like the unsure Connie and the man who wants to control and cherish the unsure Connie will never like the intellectual Constance.  I don't know how to find someone who likes both sides, especially since the only man who ever gets to see Connie is someone to whom I've actually surrendered. I have two fantasies:  I run a very high-profile professional event each year; and I've always wanted a man that would come and appreciate what I do all day and be proud of me! And then tie me up in the fancy hotel room they give me at night.  And someday, I want to sing "Because the Night" to a man I worship.  In Karoake. In public.  (But not in a place where anyone but he knows me.)

Take me now baby here as I am
Pull me close; try to understand.
Desirous hunger is the fire I breathe...
Come on now try to understand
The way I feel under your command.

But I'm so scared I'll never find someone that likes both sides of me and I like both sides of him.  I'm just as picky about both sides of a man I might be with as the 26-year-old was with me. When I do Karaoke some day, I want to sing this song too (without a cigarette).