Standing my ground!

So this guy was talking with me on the phone (and he was at a loud bar, which I find obnoxious), and he tried to get me to talk about the strength of my orgasms with the last guy I was involved with. I said "I need to know you better to have this conversation" and he said why and was kind of badgering me, and I said "I'm not comfortable with this" and he said "it doesn't matter." So I hung up on him!

I have never hung up on anyone in my life.

He then called 3 times and 3 times I sent it to voice mail. I did send him an e-mail in response to his voice mail, which was clear and explained that "It doesn't matter" is not a response to "I'm uncomfortable with this" that I could deal with.

It feels really good. Like me saying "No--you can't treat me like that." I've never had the strength to do that. Typically, I'm polite, and then disappear. I don't like conflict and I never stand up for myself like that. I'm proud of myself!

Flirting

I took a ‘creative movement’ dance class today. And there was a man in the class. (Actually there were 3.) But one of the men started to flirt with me. And my first reaction was to start to ignore him. But he was cute and a voice said in my head “you don’t have to sleep with him just because you flirt.” So instead I started to flirt back. Little old, uptight, earnest me. It was really fun! Afterwards, he ignored me, which was a little disappointing, but also very freeing.

I don’t flirt with a man, unless I think there’s a good chance I might sleep with him, which is a pretty high bar. It also means that I make pretty snap judgments about people and don’t really give things a chance. The only real exception in my life is Karaoke, where I’ll sing songs to whoever is making eye contact.

I think part of this is that I was sort of semi-raped when I was 17. I have felt for a while that the term ‘rape’ didn’t really apply, because I gave very mixed signals and only said ‘no’ when things got more intense. He was older (9 years) and had gotten me quite drunk. But it wasn't like I didn't want to drink. I didn't hold my liquor well, but I wanted to be a grown-up that night. When I said ‘no,’ I didn’t say it forcefully. And I am sure that my body language contradicted my actual words, and I really do believe humans are hard-wired to listen to non-verbal when verbal and non-verbal language contradicts each other.

So I have made sure I didn't get in another situation like that one. In part but not flirting unless I feel ready to follow through, all the way to intercourse, which is a pretty silly guideline.

A few years ago I went to a guy’s house, and this was a man I was not interested in. He and I were having a very awkward date and when he suggested a movie, I thought the body language on both sides was so very clear that there could be no doubting it. I said “I don’t think this is a good idea” and he said “on my oath of honor, I will be a perfect gentleman,” so it seemed like an easy way out of an awkward situation. It seemed that watching a movie was more polite than, after 20 minutes, saying “you know I don’t like you,” so I went. I sat primly on the edge of the sofa, as far away from him as possible, with perfect posture, with my legs crossed away from him and my arms carefully around my bag. When he put his arm around me and tried to kiss me, I said no. When he grabbed me, I shoved him hard and got up. When he grabbed my hand, I wrenched free and immediately left. Fortunately I had comfortable shoes in my bag because my heels stayed in his apartment. While I felt stupid for going to his house, I was a little pround of being very clear; I thought this is how women should act when they aren’t interested.

But I have ignored the tangled mess that is human interaction. By trying to fit attraction into a binary model (yes or no), when sometimes I might like someone, or have fun flirting, but not want to sleep with him, or not want to sleep with him today, I think I’ve lost something. I want to learn to flirt without committing to intercourse. Maybe I’ll get called a tease once or twice. But maybe I’ll be open to new experiences that will bring me joy.

I'm going to a dance tonight. I intend to flirt with 2 strangers and go home alone.

Update:
The dance was cancelled, but I ran into my dance partner and he and I made contact and both said we had a lovely time. We thanked each other and went our several ways. I had the feeling I could have slept with him. If I were home, I would have at least given him my name. But I'm at a resort for a weekend, so I don't see how more flirting would be anything other than a one-night stand. And I don't want to give my heart freely and don't know how to have sex without giving my heart.

The Republican Returns

The Republican, from like 2 years ago, the one that slapped me, and then, somehow, it felt like something broke, he reappeared. After The Republican, it was like I just couldn't trust any man who has tried to dominate me since then, and I've been so bored with vanilla guys. I'm scared of bdsm and bored by everything else.

Anyway, he was in the Reserve, so I did e-mail him occasionally (only returning his e-mails) while he was in Iraq for a year, but only out of the guilt of wanting to live up to the yellow ribbon on the back of my car. We hadn't spoken for months.

Anyway, he found me on a vanilla dating site, and called me his sub. And it was good--I told him I don't go there anymore, and really didn't give any clue that he had impacted me, literally. But he started IMing with me and I told him that I stopped doing bdsm after him (actually I said "the scene" but he knew what I meant). And I told him that what happened with us hadn't been good for me. I didn't say "you were the straw that broke me" or anything like that. But I was clear and direct. And, he apologized!!!!! Wow!!!

So I stuck up for myself. I was nice about it and kind of really downplayed it. But I stood up for myself and he apologized! It felt like it sort of helped heal a little rawness there. I'm SO bad at standing up for myself with anyone I might have cared about. (I'm the only woman working in my office, and even though I technically could have "Dr" in front of my name, although it's just a JD, but I mean, I do have more education than almost any of the men), they keep referring to each other as "Mr." and me by my first name in all the minutes of our meetings, and this week I asked that we do them consistently--either me as Ms. or the guys by their first names. I hope I didn't piss anyone off. I was nice about it. But it really pissed me off for a while. I somehow thought someone (one of the secretaries maybe?) that it should be the same. But the secretaries kind of resent having to do things for a woman. They don't have my back.)

Anyway, The Republican asked me for a favor (he wants some pictures taken, and thinks I'm a good photographer, just to tie John into this mess) and I agreed, but told him I'm not flirting or anything--just taking pictures. But I want to see him and be in charge of my emotions and know that I can be strong and whole and not let him under my skin. I think he thinks he can get under my skin again. But he couldn't dominate me now. I mean not unless he tried to be a friend for a few months first and I seriously doubt he'd ever do that! Now isn't that funny--John wanted to be friends, cause he didn't want to sleep with me. And now the only way I'd ever see being with The Republican was if we were friends. But I suppose that is because I'm the one that doesn't think I want him. Way easier to give ambivalence than to receive it! (I'm not bitter about John--I really, truly, wish him a joyous life and hope he finds a soul mate. I just want the same for me too!)

So I told The Republican I would never submit to a man I didn't love, and that, I think, is a goal. I may not make it. It is possible some man, someday, will seduce me and dominate me, but it does seem I run away from men that try to do that mostly. I would be vulnerable if someone was a very good ballroom dancer. But other than that, I think my guards go up very quickly. Too quickly.

I have sometimes fantasized about The Republican because that was the last time I felt really sexual. I mean the kind that is intoxicating and soul shaking. We never had sex, but oh did we flirt like hell. My orgasms have probably been about 1/4 what they were before that happened. Sometimes I'm scared it is just getting older, but I can't imagine I'd have a hormonal change like that in a day. I would think it would be a slope, not a cliff.

Watching Elena Kagan's nomination, and all the discussion about how she's not gay, bothered me. "She's just smart and picky." As Maureen Dowd said: "Elena is anything but a history-making, barrier-breaking, proud, strong, happy gay woman. She’s a garden-variety, sad, scary, single, childless career woman who can’t get a man because she’s too smart, works too much and refuses to settle." The latter half seems like it describes me right now, although probably not scary. Pathetic maybe. Well, hell. Maybe I'll be on the supreme court in 15 years. Any maybe my defenders would bring up this blog and say "see--she isn't a lesbian, she's a frustrated bdsmer." Yeah, maybe not.

Everyone Pairs Off. Everyone But Me

I had a really intense dream last night--the kind that has a hangover after you wake up, and you're a little groggy, not sure what was a dream and what is not.

I'm at a dance and there are 2 more women than men, so every dance 2 women are by themselves, and it is always me and a different girl. Every gal gets selected, and it seems like every dance, one more man and woman enter, so it is only a matter of time before every other gal has a partner.

Then the dancing ended and they were all paired up for a meal and there wasn't a place at the table for me.

Gee. I wonder what a psychologist would say this represented.

I don't mean to have a pity party. Sometimes I wonder if I hadn't learned feminism at an early age, if I would have been happily partnered and life would be good. But the fact is, feminism was never for the women for whom this society easily works (and there are a lot of them). Feminism has always been for the women who are left out. And I'm grateful that I've got a good job and can pay my own bills and good friends and fun hobbies. And men who are interested in me--I wish I could be interested in someone who was interested in me. There's just that fundamental mismatch. I suppose, without feminism, I would have settled. My grandmother did. She didn't really ever think her husband was worthy of her, and she could never think that if she had fallen in love with him. But she was 26 when he proposed which was, at that time, quite old.

But then, I think my grandmother had a pretty good life. I don't know. I mostly knew her after my grandfather died. She remarried, at age 70, a very wealthy man. She loved that time in society. And frankly, she loved having people to take care of. But I don't know that she was ever in love. Maybe being in love is over rated. I wouldn't know.

Catastrophe averted; pathos remains

So I broke it off with "fine" guy. Which was a fine thing to do. But I almost e-mailed John. I was totally tipsy and claiming in my head I wanted 'closure,' as if silence for a year wasn't closure enough. (John and I drank quite a bit together, and I don't drink that often, so somehow, it both reminded me of him and lowered my intellectual reasoning.) I told myself I wanted him to say "I'm sorry I hurt you" and "I'm doing well--I'm engaged and I hope you're well too."

But that isn't what I actually wanted (although it would be good to hear he was engaged or married; it would actually be very good).

Here's the thing I hate to admit. I still love him. And I still want him. I broke up with "Fine" guy because every time we were together I'd get slightly bored and remember how much fun I had with John.

I wanted to write John and have him write and say "I'm sorry--letting you go was a mistake. I still think of you. I still care for you. I'm sorry I hurt you. You know how messed up my life was at that moment, but I've survived that. Let's try to make this work."

I know he's just not that into me. Intellectually. But I don't believe that in my heart. I can't believe he would give me the time, the intimacy, the sharing if he didn't connect with me on some level he couldn't articulate.

I have to believe that he saw that his ambivalence was too hurtful to me and he disappeared because I said, on several occasions, that being a friend cost me. I don't know if he understood why--that it made me feel like there was something so deeply wrong with me and it reinforced that insecurity and it took all my energy for possible romance. Not that it still isn't wrapped up in that.

And, frankly, I should have moved on by now. This is almost stalkerish. (Given that I'm not stalking--a friend drove by his apartment 2 weeks ago--she didn't know where he lived--we were coming back from a roadtrip and she was taking a through avenue to my place--and I twitched, like I'd broken a rule, as if I'm not allowed to be in a car that someone else is driving on the somewhat busy street where he leaves). There's a restaurant a block from him that I used to go to all the time before I met him, and I've only been once in the last year, and that was with a friend who wanted to go there. So I'm not stalking in any real sense of the word.) But emotionally, I still have more of my energy there than makes sense.

I guess I was hoping if I did what I was supposed to do, my heart would do what she was supposed to as well. It's funny. I've had a 9-month fling this year (although I didn't realize it was a fling going into it). I tried acid. In Amsterdam (it is a good place for sin--even if Acid isn't legal, it is fairly easy to find, and I figured I could play the dumb tourist if I got caught). I had a sort-of one-night stand in a youth hostel in Amsterdam (no intercourse--just fooling around and mutual masturbation). I've actually lived quite a bit this year. Acid was fun! I really enjoyed it! I would totally do that again. I've changed in some ways. Why can't I cut this one string?

But then John touched me deeply. More deeply than any man ever has. And so his imprint remains until someone else touches me equally deeply. I made a searing, soul-connection with someone on a romantic level. Perhaps my only fault is settling for men who didn't touch me like that. But you can't order those up with some brown rice and a fortune cookie.

But maybe if I honestly acknowledge what I'm feeling, I can move through it more quickly than if I pretend.

Not a Lady. Just Gaga

Well, it's been a while.

I was dating a man and it didn't feel right to write about him if he didn't know I had a blog. And somehow, I never shared this part of my life with him. We were kinky (a little) in bed, but we never got to this level of sharing.

What we did get to was a kind discussion of our exes. It's funny, he met the 'ex' and that was fine (we went out on a couple of double dates), but somehow or other, I mentioned John--not as an ex--I don't remember how it came up. But it came abundantly clear to both of us that I had truly been in love with John. And it became clearer to me that I was not in love with this man after nine months of fucking him. I broke up with him a couple of weeks later. And didn't shed a tear. It was more like a tedious thing that had to be done the right way. I did it a week after my income taxes--I couldn't handle both at the same time. Too much bureaucracy.

Coming back here, it feels like I've failed in some way. I wanted to grow up, be stable, have a person to share my feelings with instead of a blog.

I thought I killed this part of myself. I really thought when I cauterized the wound from 'John.' I thought the part of me that yearned for surrender, and also for sharing intimacies with complete strangers, was dead. But I guess the remnants are there.

And then today I got into Lady Gaga. (Like a year after everyone else--I'm nearly 40--I don't have to be up on popular culture.) And I spent all day listening to Bad Romance. And all of a sudden I started tearing up. And how pathetic is this--it was over John. And then pushing that vulnerability aside and getting cold and hard and bitchy.

I suppose the best I could have ever hoped for with John was a bad romance. Love and disease and ugly and revenge and horror and a leather studded kiss in the scene. I didn't want to be friends. I wanted his love.

It's pathetic. Over a year since I've had any contact with him (other than occasionally checking out his photoblog, which I haven't for at least 6 months). (OK, I just did, but he hasn't been very active. I do hope he's happy. I've never been good at revenge. But then there's nothing to avenge.) Oh, and I did send him a Christmas card, but it was a "good luck to you--I hope you're happy" card, not a "let's get together" card. And I was fucking another man long enough to have a baby with. And the newer guy wanted to get married and have children (at least hypothetically). And my heart still has a John sized hole. I wonder if this is what cocaine or heroine addicts feel like? Does methadone fill a cocaine sized hole for the moment, just as this man I was with did, and then melt away, leaving the hole? It's not as raw as it was. I'll have a moody day again tomorrow. And then I'll erase Lady Gaga from my iPod. And I'm already sort of dating someone new, who seems fine. (If I were an English professor, I might comment that 'fine' is not an adjective that potential lovers typical use to describe the other. Maybe I just need to learn to not care about men I fuck. But I think I'm too old to learn that trick.)

How could I have such a deep soul connection with someone who seemingly didn't give a shit about me? He wanted so much to be friends, and then when I finally agreed to be friends, he disappeared on me. Dropped me like a one night stand. I don't understand.

And yet, there is an up-side to the pity party. In all honesty, the guy I was with this last school-year, (I guess he's needs a name--how about Jerry?), anyway, I really did adore Jerry for the first few months. But after a few months, he bored me. He canceled on me 3 times in a row, right before I left for a month, and while we had regular phone conversations, he didn't keep up his end of the relationship. (He'd ask me to send him cards, which I did all the time, but he never sent me a single note, and I ended up feeling more like a convenience than a lover. The first few months, he'd bring me tiny presents. Never more than a dollar or two. But SO thoughtful, and then he stopped anything like that. Didn't even give me a card for Valentine's Day. It didn't help that I am a night person, and I like sex at night; he was a morning person and only liked sex in the morning (early in the morning--like 5 am!), when I was typically cranky and asleep. Even if I came to bed with him when he went to bed, he sort of knew I'd sneak out and write after he went to bed, and after a few months, sex stopped at night from him and I've never been particularly ggg in the single-digit hours.

Oh, and he was another Republican!!! He watched Fox News!! And he wanted to have sex while Glenn Beck was on. That is the first time I've ever said no to anything to someone I was already having sex with. I just couldn't.

He wasn't particularly adventurous as a lover. (Aside from the Glenn Beck thing--that is really twisted and sick, if you ask me.) He was considerate and kind, and would do anything I asked. And I'd wake up and he'd be just looking at me and playing with my hair, like he was delighted to be with me. That was lovely. But he never got nasty, never tried to possess me. It was sweet and loving, but never rough and passionate.

And I was wondering if the sexual side of me just died. But listening to Lady Gaga today I realized that it is still there. I don't know how to ever trust someone enough to bring her out to play.

Last year I cauterized the wound, which I had to do. I really had to. I wasn't actually suicidal last year, but only because I didn't want to hurt my family. That was the only thing that consistently stopped me from doing something too stupid. Like a teenager, last year, I lost perspective. But I suppose the xanax stopped the immediate bleeding and I now I need to deal with the underlying infection. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) I refuse to go on the kinky websites. And when a guy gets too dominating too quickly, I cut him off. I have to find someone to awake that side with again. I wish I knew how.

Whiny complaining

My father is better and has gone home, and it has left a gaping hole. Even while he was here, it was incredibly lonely, but at least I had so much to do that I wasn't aware of how lonely I was. I ended up dropping just about everything to take care of him, and now I have to reassemble my life and it is really hard.

I said, in frustration, "I hate my life." But I realized what I meant is that I am deeply disappointed by my life. And when I realized that, I sat down and started crying.

Nothing has turned out the way I hoped. I know, objectively, how lucky I am. I know how many people would kill for my job. It doesn't change the fact that my resentment and how I'm treated there is slowly turning to rage. I can't say anything when I'm mistreated, and it eats away at me.

That, of course, is nothing compared to the fact that I'm lonely to my bones.

I still miss John every single day. Isn't that pathetic? I know that I never actually knew him, because the man I thought I knew wouldn't have treated me like that. But it doesn't change the fact that I loved him. I still do.

I decided I wasn't going to write about anyone until we got to a second date, and that is why, there's been nothing about any of the men I've gone out with. Not about the only man since John I liked, who said "you're lovely. I have a lovely time" and never spoke to me again. Not about the 3 men who were very dominant and very grabby and just kind of freaked me out. I watched the way the men treated me, thinking "3 years ago I would have been turned on" and I have less and less tolerance for each one successively. By the last one I actually got to the point where I cut the date short and told him I wouldn't go out with him again. I was proud of myself for doing it, but would have been prouder if I hadn't let him kiss me, out of politeness several times. But when he got too grabby I told him to stop it (several times) and when he told me to kiss him I said no. So clearly I'm learning to not be (as) submissive with the assholes. Even if I keep wishing I'd find someone worth submitting too.

I don't know where I go from here. It is all I can do not to quit my job. This isn't sustainable. I'm going to go to some country soon (in part for vacation, but it will be one where I can buy xanax over the counter--foreigners tends to think Americans take a lot of drugs, but I can't wonder if it is because we're all waiting till we're in their countries to buy them).

I have 2 wonderful friends and several more good friends. But I clearly need something more. Much more.