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Showing posts with label men. Show all posts
Showing posts with label men. Show all posts
A Call to Men
This pretty much speaks for itself. One observation: the audience is almost entirely women because this talk was at the TEDWomen conference. I think this is a vitally, vitally important message, but I do wonder how it's going to get to actual men when gender is so consistently considered only a women's issue.
I don't have a solution for this. I don't know how to get men to pay attention to this stuff because their privilege does allow them to ignore it. It just seems so important to involve them, not just to end violence against women but to free men, as he says, from their own versions of the Man Box.
Tony Porter's website, A Call to Men is very much worth checking out.
Fuck My Sexual Orientation and Identity
I was reading a post on Figleaf's Real Adult Sex today where he answered several questions designed to provide enlightenment about his gender identity. He apparently got all these questions from Bond at Dear Diaspora.
One question in particular gave me a big jolt as I was reading, one that suddenly clarified a huge issue with my sexual orientation that I've been half-subconsciously grappling with for years. It was this:
And I was suddenly struck with the absolute truth of that. If I were male-bodied and could have queer sex with other men, I'd be gay. Not bisexual, really. Maybe a little. But no, I'd be gay. Almost entirely.
So sure, I'd still be femme. My gender identity is actually pretty solid and apparently has little to do with my body. The thought of being a femme man sounded just as comfortable as the thought of being a femme woman. But the question of orientation? That blew my mind.
I have historically had many more male sexual and romantic partners than I have had female ones. I've been annoyed with that fact. It feels like a barrier to my identification as queer, as a true bisexual. I know for a fact that I've been more attracted to some of my female partners and enjoyed the sex much more than that with many of my male partners. It's exciting in a different way that I like. A lot.
But.
I think that might have less to do with liking female bodies and femme gender presentations than it has to do with liking queer sex. When I so easily answered that gender/orientation question for if I had a male body, something clicked in my head. The thought of being a gay man felt like a relief. If I were a gay man, I'd be able to have the kind of sex that I like best with the people whose bodies I like best. And I think, weirdly, that those bodies for me are male.
This has been so confusing for so long. Because, yes, I definitely like women and their bodies. Just not as much! But I like like lesbians soooooooo much more than I like most straight men. Maybe all "straight" men, if we define that as hetero- and gender-normative. In fact, I’m not particularly attracted to straight people. (Male or female.) I do like the ones who will say “I tried gay sex“ or “I would try gay sex” and it didn’t do that much for them, or the ones who approach sex queerly. That’s different. That’s not “straight,” that’s just heterosexual.
The problem here is that I'm QUEER. I like queer sex. I like queer relationships. I want to sleep with guys, but I want to sleep with gay guys. Or queer guys. I want to sleep with them queerly, without the total emphasis on PIV intercourse or the lack of respect for female pleasure. I want the sense of play and transgression I've had with other queers. Queer sex!
Which is frankly kind of sad. I'm female-bodied. I love being female-bodied. I really wouldn't want to change that. I just wish that more queer guys wanted to sleep with/date me. And yes, there are queer guys who like women, but they're so much harder to find. It takes "bisexual," which expanded my dating pool and turns it into “female bodied queer person who likes queer men," which drastically shrinks it.
As if there weren't already enough reasons it's hard for me to find a partner. Pfft.
One question in particular gave me a big jolt as I was reading, one that suddenly clarified a huge issue with my sexual orientation that I've been half-subconsciously grappling with for years. It was this:
What would your gender identity be if you’d been born as the other sex? How masculine or feminine would you be? (This comes from an old one for when one is questioning her sexual orientation: What would your sexual orientation be if you were the other sex?)Now, my response had more to do with the parenthetical aside than the question itself. I answered without a millisecond of hesitation in my head: I would be a femme gay man.
And I was suddenly struck with the absolute truth of that. If I were male-bodied and could have queer sex with other men, I'd be gay. Not bisexual, really. Maybe a little. But no, I'd be gay. Almost entirely.
So sure, I'd still be femme. My gender identity is actually pretty solid and apparently has little to do with my body. The thought of being a femme man sounded just as comfortable as the thought of being a femme woman. But the question of orientation? That blew my mind.
I have historically had many more male sexual and romantic partners than I have had female ones. I've been annoyed with that fact. It feels like a barrier to my identification as queer, as a true bisexual. I know for a fact that I've been more attracted to some of my female partners and enjoyed the sex much more than that with many of my male partners. It's exciting in a different way that I like. A lot.
But.
I think that might have less to do with liking female bodies and femme gender presentations than it has to do with liking queer sex. When I so easily answered that gender/orientation question for if I had a male body, something clicked in my head. The thought of being a gay man felt like a relief. If I were a gay man, I'd be able to have the kind of sex that I like best with the people whose bodies I like best. And I think, weirdly, that those bodies for me are male.
This has been so confusing for so long. Because, yes, I definitely like women and their bodies. Just not as much! But I like like lesbians soooooooo much more than I like most straight men. Maybe all "straight" men, if we define that as hetero- and gender-normative. In fact, I’m not particularly attracted to straight people. (Male or female.) I do like the ones who will say “I tried gay sex“ or “I would try gay sex” and it didn’t do that much for them, or the ones who approach sex queerly. That’s different. That’s not “straight,” that’s just heterosexual.
The problem here is that I'm QUEER. I like queer sex. I like queer relationships. I want to sleep with guys, but I want to sleep with gay guys. Or queer guys. I want to sleep with them queerly, without the total emphasis on PIV intercourse or the lack of respect for female pleasure. I want the sense of play and transgression I've had with other queers. Queer sex!
Which is frankly kind of sad. I'm female-bodied. I love being female-bodied. I really wouldn't want to change that. I just wish that more queer guys wanted to sleep with/date me. And yes, there are queer guys who like women, but they're so much harder to find. It takes "bisexual," which expanded my dating pool and turns it into “female bodied queer person who likes queer men," which drastically shrinks it.
As if there weren't already enough reasons it's hard for me to find a partner. Pfft.
Schroedinger's Rapist
I want to share with you all a guest post at Shapely Prose by writer Phaedra Starling that I found not long ago which has put a lot of my thoughts about public interactions with men into words. It's not a short post, but I really recommend reading the whole thing, especially if you happen to possess a penis.
The post discusses how, when one approaches a woman in public, it's really important to be aware that she does not know whether or not you're a rapist. An excerpt:
The post discusses how, when one approaches a woman in public, it's really important to be aware that she does not know whether or not you're a rapist. An excerpt:
Consider: if every rapist commits an average of ten rapes (a horrifying number, isn’t it?) then the concentration of rapists in the population is still a little over one in sixty. That means four in my graduating class in high school. One among my coworkers. One in the subway car at rush hour. Eleven who work out at my gym. How do I know that you, the nice guy who wants nothing more than companionship and True Love, are not this rapist?Now, there have been some negative reactions to her tone. I think, given the subject matter, that it's called-for, although perhaps her condescension is unhelpful. If you can disregard the talking down just for a minute, though, and if you hear all the dismal statistics and despair at the state of affairs, if you wonder how you can successfully approach a woman without being a creeper, or if you're just really awesome, read the rest of the article. It's worth it.
I don’t.
When you approach me in public, you are Schrödinger’s Rapist. You may or may not be a man who would commit rape. I won’t know for sure unless you start sexually assaulting me. I can’t see inside your head, and I don’t know your intentions. If you expect me to trust you—to accept you at face value as a nice sort of guy—you are not only failing to respect my reasonable caution, you are being cavalier about my personal safety.
Fortunately, you’re a good guy. We’ve already established that. Now that you’re aware that there’s a problem, you are going to go out of your way to fix it, and to make the women with whom you interact feel as safe as possible.
What Makes a Woman a Bitch
I want to clarify something about my goal of being more assertive.
I know that it's not very nice to tell a potential suitor to fuck off.* There are damn good reasons, though, for no more Ms. Nice Girl. I've written about a few of them over the course of this blog. The long and short of it, if you don't want to go back and read four blog posts, is that I'm constantly sexually harassed every time I leave my apartment.
It doesn't matter what I'm wearing; it doesn't matter what expression is on my face; it doesn't matter how I respond or even who I'm with. I'm tall and noticeable and have red hair, and I'm apparently hot. Or "sexy baby" or "can I taste that lip ring?" or "look at that pretty tummy." That last one was today.
This puts me in an awfully awkward situation. The thing about hot women in the media is that they're always portrayed as bitches: the blonde popular girl who is too haughty to respond even with kindness to the poor nerdy boy who just wants to love and cuddle her. What they don't show on TV are the good reasons for this behavior.
I don't want to be a "bitch," but I'm fully aware that the reason people use that word is usually to bring women into line. The words "bitch" and "slut" more often have to do with a woman exercising her power and the discomfort that causes in everyone else. If I have boundaries around who I allow to talk to me and in particular how they do it, I'll be branded a bitch. I'll become "that one" who is too cool to give the time of day to a defenseless guy. The thing is, y'all are rarely actually defenseless.
There are things that I respond well to. "Hello, how are you?" is usually one of them. Curiosity about me as a human being with emotions, opinions, and things I like to do is another. "I like you" or "You're pretty" on the street or in a club when my looks are the only thing you could know about me are not. Male folk have an option in how they view and approach me.
Nobody likes to be objectified, diminished into just one part of their person. Maybe somebody who approaches me ham-handedly is just socially awkward and because that's the only thing I see, I judge him as such. I recognize that if I reject someone in a club, that could hurt their feelings. The truth, though, is that it hurts mine to be approached lewdly, to be singled out solely for my looks. So what would you have me do? I'd love a better world, where this wouldn't be a problem. Or just a better solution. Any ideas?
*There's a more specific story there: a group of guys came up to me and my roommate and asked if we'd make out. I asked if they would then all make out with each other and they said "Hell, no!" so I responded with "Well, fuck off then."
I know that it's not very nice to tell a potential suitor to fuck off.* There are damn good reasons, though, for no more Ms. Nice Girl. I've written about a few of them over the course of this blog. The long and short of it, if you don't want to go back and read four blog posts, is that I'm constantly sexually harassed every time I leave my apartment.
It doesn't matter what I'm wearing; it doesn't matter what expression is on my face; it doesn't matter how I respond or even who I'm with. I'm tall and noticeable and have red hair, and I'm apparently hot. Or "sexy baby" or "can I taste that lip ring?" or "look at that pretty tummy." That last one was today.
This puts me in an awfully awkward situation. The thing about hot women in the media is that they're always portrayed as bitches: the blonde popular girl who is too haughty to respond even with kindness to the poor nerdy boy who just wants to love and cuddle her. What they don't show on TV are the good reasons for this behavior.
I don't want to be a "bitch," but I'm fully aware that the reason people use that word is usually to bring women into line. The words "bitch" and "slut" more often have to do with a woman exercising her power and the discomfort that causes in everyone else. If I have boundaries around who I allow to talk to me and in particular how they do it, I'll be branded a bitch. I'll become "that one" who is too cool to give the time of day to a defenseless guy. The thing is, y'all are rarely actually defenseless.
There are things that I respond well to. "Hello, how are you?" is usually one of them. Curiosity about me as a human being with emotions, opinions, and things I like to do is another. "I like you" or "You're pretty" on the street or in a club when my looks are the only thing you could know about me are not. Male folk have an option in how they view and approach me.
Nobody likes to be objectified, diminished into just one part of their person. Maybe somebody who approaches me ham-handedly is just socially awkward and because that's the only thing I see, I judge him as such. I recognize that if I reject someone in a club, that could hurt their feelings. The truth, though, is that it hurts mine to be approached lewdly, to be singled out solely for my looks. So what would you have me do? I'd love a better world, where this wouldn't be a problem. Or just a better solution. Any ideas?
*There's a more specific story there: a group of guys came up to me and my roommate and asked if we'd make out. I asked if they would then all make out with each other and they said "Hell, no!" so I responded with "Well, fuck off then."
Inconsiderate Lovers
There are so very many people who are bad in bed. Specifically, there seem to be hordes of inconsiderate men floating around waiting to spring their time-wasting self-centeredness on me at any unsuspecting second!
That's not to say that all men are bad in bed, of course. I've been with men who were wonderful lovers and women who were only so-so. There are lots of factors to a sexual experience, and plenty of them have nothing to do with skill and everything to do with connection. That said, there's a base level of consideration that makes for a decent lover. When I say someone's bad, I mean that they're selfish, not that they lack tongue agility or erectile prowess or some such nonsense.
For all I know, straight women could be on average just as bad as straight men in this regard. I can't be sure, as they won't sleep with me. Same goes for gay men. I have been with more inconsiderate men than inconsiderate women, but I've also just been with more men than women. Maybe it has nothing to do with demographics.
All that said, it's just sad. I'm almost content with very mediocre sex; I know how bad it could be, so if they even try to give me any kind of pleasure, I'm halfway to satisfied.
Now, generally speaking, I can just take care of myself when I'm having sex with someone who doesn't know what they're doing. That's actually totally fine. If they're trying and I like them enough to invest the time, I can teach them what I like. In the meantime I can take care of myself, and that's sexy in and of itself. I love to masturbate with assistance.
There's no hope, though, with the ones who don't even try, who don't care a whit about my pleasure. Kind of like the guy I slept with last week.
This man was attractive. I thought he was gay, actually, when we first met, which made him even moreso to me. I like people who push the queer/gender envelopes. However, his idea of foreplay was to masturbate a little and then try to put it in me. In other words, none.
As an independent woman who knows how to take care of her own pleasure, I could have done something about this. I could have initiated the sex sooner. Instead of sitting there not wanting to watch the same episode of Real World Road Rules twice in a row because he was too stoned to notice, I could have climbed into his lap and gotten things started.
Instead of waiting until I was too tired to care enough, waiting until I was half asleep in the middle of the night and woke up to his cock in the air as he stroked it, I could have taken matters into my own hands.
Instead, I had the second worst sex in my life (ask me about the worst sometime). He tried to go for it without a condom, which I had none of, and once I got one and put it on him, he went limp immediately. And then to sleep. Not once did he try to touch any part of my body other than my vagina, with his penis. Gross.
Perhaps if I'd started things earlier, I might've been able to steer him into, you know, doing anything at all to my clitoris or nipples. I could've asked him to turn me on in any way other than masturbating in my general direction. I like a show as much as the next girl, but not enough for me to be ready to fuck.
Anyway, I'm going to make it a project for myself to be a more aggressive flirt and lover. I want to initiate things more, drop this femme bullshit where I try to attract people but make them take the final step. I'm going to set concrete goals, hold myself accountable, make this a real thing I'm working on. I'll let you know how it goes.
That's not to say that all men are bad in bed, of course. I've been with men who were wonderful lovers and women who were only so-so. There are lots of factors to a sexual experience, and plenty of them have nothing to do with skill and everything to do with connection. That said, there's a base level of consideration that makes for a decent lover. When I say someone's bad, I mean that they're selfish, not that they lack tongue agility or erectile prowess or some such nonsense.
For all I know, straight women could be on average just as bad as straight men in this regard. I can't be sure, as they won't sleep with me. Same goes for gay men. I have been with more inconsiderate men than inconsiderate women, but I've also just been with more men than women. Maybe it has nothing to do with demographics.
All that said, it's just sad. I'm almost content with very mediocre sex; I know how bad it could be, so if they even try to give me any kind of pleasure, I'm halfway to satisfied.
Now, generally speaking, I can just take care of myself when I'm having sex with someone who doesn't know what they're doing. That's actually totally fine. If they're trying and I like them enough to invest the time, I can teach them what I like. In the meantime I can take care of myself, and that's sexy in and of itself. I love to masturbate with assistance.
There's no hope, though, with the ones who don't even try, who don't care a whit about my pleasure. Kind of like the guy I slept with last week.
This man was attractive. I thought he was gay, actually, when we first met, which made him even moreso to me. I like people who push the queer/gender envelopes. However, his idea of foreplay was to masturbate a little and then try to put it in me. In other words, none.
As an independent woman who knows how to take care of her own pleasure, I could have done something about this. I could have initiated the sex sooner. Instead of sitting there not wanting to watch the same episode of Real World Road Rules twice in a row because he was too stoned to notice, I could have climbed into his lap and gotten things started.
Instead of waiting until I was too tired to care enough, waiting until I was half asleep in the middle of the night and woke up to his cock in the air as he stroked it, I could have taken matters into my own hands.
Instead, I had the second worst sex in my life (ask me about the worst sometime). He tried to go for it without a condom, which I had none of, and once I got one and put it on him, he went limp immediately. And then to sleep. Not once did he try to touch any part of my body other than my vagina, with his penis. Gross.
Perhaps if I'd started things earlier, I might've been able to steer him into, you know, doing anything at all to my clitoris or nipples. I could've asked him to turn me on in any way other than masturbating in my general direction. I like a show as much as the next girl, but not enough for me to be ready to fuck.
Anyway, I'm going to make it a project for myself to be a more aggressive flirt and lover. I want to initiate things more, drop this femme bullshit where I try to attract people but make them take the final step. I'm going to set concrete goals, hold myself accountable, make this a real thing I'm working on. I'll let you know how it goes.
A Post of Two Cities
So, there are lots of things that are different between San Francisco and New York City. There's the weather, the size, the unique NY garbage smell, and SF's general sense of carefree liberalism compared to NY's angsty liberalism. Yes, they are both major cities with a serious leftist bent, but obviously they've got drastically different cultures within that.
Canvassing in New York City is also somewhat different. It's definitely the same animal, but perhaps a slightly different breed. It's harder to get people to smile at you as they pass by without stopping. They're way more in a hurry and used to be hassled. They've got the blinders on in a way that San Franciscans never did.
One major difference between the cities, both in canvassing and just in being on the street, is that I get street harassed a lot less here than I did in the West. I'm not really sure why. It could be because San Francisco, as Aviva suggested in the comments on that first post, has a more lenient attitude in general over what's acceptable public behavior. If sexual behavior in public is easier to get away with, does that make sexual harassment easier too? I don't know, but I can see the difference.
Now, I do still get bugged. People definitely hit on me when I'm in public, but it's so much more polite. It's still annoying, but much less so when someone says "Pardon my saying this, but you're very pretty," than when they ask my friend, "Hey, is that your girlfriend? I'd put that on my tongue," or just shout "You're hot" from their seat in a door frame.
I'm still not sure how to respond to street come-ons. I'm thinking calm honesty would probably be the best policy. You know, respond like I would if I was canvassing. "Thank you. It makes me uncomfortable that you say that, but thanks. It's weird on the street." I said something to that affect to a guy who wanted my number the other day, and it worked really well. He just said "That's cool, I understand" and walked away.
Has anyone had any successful rejoinders to this kind of stuff? I'd be interested to hear what works for you.
Canvassing in New York City is also somewhat different. It's definitely the same animal, but perhaps a slightly different breed. It's harder to get people to smile at you as they pass by without stopping. They're way more in a hurry and used to be hassled. They've got the blinders on in a way that San Franciscans never did.
One major difference between the cities, both in canvassing and just in being on the street, is that I get street harassed a lot less here than I did in the West. I'm not really sure why. It could be because San Francisco, as Aviva suggested in the comments on that first post, has a more lenient attitude in general over what's acceptable public behavior. If sexual behavior in public is easier to get away with, does that make sexual harassment easier too? I don't know, but I can see the difference.
Now, I do still get bugged. People definitely hit on me when I'm in public, but it's so much more polite. It's still annoying, but much less so when someone says "Pardon my saying this, but you're very pretty," than when they ask my friend, "Hey, is that your girlfriend? I'd put that on my tongue," or just shout "You're hot" from their seat in a door frame.
I'm still not sure how to respond to street come-ons. I'm thinking calm honesty would probably be the best policy. You know, respond like I would if I was canvassing. "Thank you. It makes me uncomfortable that you say that, but thanks. It's weird on the street." I said something to that affect to a guy who wanted my number the other day, and it worked really well. He just said "That's cool, I understand" and walked away.
Has anyone had any successful rejoinders to this kind of stuff? I'd be interested to hear what works for you.
Gay Bar
I went, tonight, to a gay club in the Castro. San Francisco's pretty fun in that its queer culture is exactly what you'd expect it to be. This club was all techno, mostly gay people, more men than women, and a good amount of drinking. It was packed. The bodies writhed together. It might as well have been a scene from Queer as Folk. (Although I know that was set in another city.)
I went to gay bars and clubs a lot throughout my college career. There was a period of time where I'd go to a gay bar at least three nights a week, to socialize and sometimes dance and sometimes drink.
I didn't like going to straight dance clubs because men would inevitably feel me up or at least hit on me in a very sketchy fashion. At gay bars, there isn't this problem. The men are only interested in each other and the women know better than to be totally disrespectful.
Since I've graduated, though, I've spent less time with queer folks. My job is to canvass for a queer issue, but there are still more straight people at work than gay ones. I'd sort of forgotten how much more comfortable I am within the queer community than I am in the straight one.
I have my own gripes with the gay community, mostly involving their sometimes exclusion of bisexual people. I still feel better, though, with teh gays than with teh straights. There's so much more gender flexibility, such an understanding that gender roles don't have to define everything. It cuts down a lot on the blatant sexism.
I'd forgotten, before tonight, how much more comfortable I feel around gay people than around straight ones. I'm considering taking a little break from dating men, just because I've gotten into such an unfortunate head space about them. Even if I don't skip out on all the less-sexist men who I do like, I'd like to spend more time with gay people. I think it's time to start pursuing women again.
I went to gay bars and clubs a lot throughout my college career. There was a period of time where I'd go to a gay bar at least three nights a week, to socialize and sometimes dance and sometimes drink.
I didn't like going to straight dance clubs because men would inevitably feel me up or at least hit on me in a very sketchy fashion. At gay bars, there isn't this problem. The men are only interested in each other and the women know better than to be totally disrespectful.
Since I've graduated, though, I've spent less time with queer folks. My job is to canvass for a queer issue, but there are still more straight people at work than gay ones. I'd sort of forgotten how much more comfortable I am within the queer community than I am in the straight one.
I have my own gripes with the gay community, mostly involving their sometimes exclusion of bisexual people. I still feel better, though, with teh gays than with teh straights. There's so much more gender flexibility, such an understanding that gender roles don't have to define everything. It cuts down a lot on the blatant sexism.
I'd forgotten, before tonight, how much more comfortable I feel around gay people than around straight ones. I'm considering taking a little break from dating men, just because I've gotten into such an unfortunate head space about them. Even if I don't skip out on all the less-sexist men who I do like, I'd like to spend more time with gay people. I think it's time to start pursuing women again.
Self Discipline in Writing, and My Evening
I think it is now time to start forcing myself to post every day. I have been very, very terrible about blogging for the last several months, to state the obvious. This isn't because I've had nothing to talk about; my brain continues to churn regardless of what weird emotional/stress state I'm in. I've had plenty of things percolating.
I just haven't really been writing. Not here, and not for school anymore, and not in my journal, and not anything fictional. Nothing. This, for me, is not a good thing.
Writing keeps me a little more sane, forces me to analyze my life, helps me to understand my feelings and experiences by articulating them. I really need to be doing it more, because I've been letting some good ol' life patterns (like the whole man issue I wrote about in my last post) build up without really dealing with them.
I spent tonight at a bar and then a dance club with a group of people from work, and although I enjoy the company of many of my coworkers, I was left feeling uncomfortable and almost grossed out after this evening. It really had nothing to do with my companions and everything to do with my feelings about men and being surrounded by them.
I was being lightly hit on by one male coworker, Y, who shared that he hasn't had sex in months and is desperate (his word!). He was also pursuing, and talking about pursuing, another coworker who is new to the office. C, the third woman in the group, picked up an Italian guy early on and got him to buy her drinks and make out with her.
I was being more subtly but also more persistently hit on by N, another male coworker who has a girlfriend but who admits that he make-out cheats on her when he's drunk. He kept saying he wanted to drink more so that he could make poor life choices and touching my knees. A random guy outside the club who I talked to for about a minute took the time to make sure that N would be escorting me home as it's not safe out there for a beautiful lady like myself.
I can't really say what it was that bugged me so much about the whole night, I just felt vaguely dirty, as though I was a part of something I didn't like. I wish there was some way to just check out of traditional gender roles entirely, to not be confronted with them all the time. I wish men didn't objectify me constantly based on my confidence and openness around sexuality. I don't want to be someone's wet dream.
I like it when people are attracted to me, sure, but not so much when it's because they think I'll be the perfect lay. Or the perfect anything, for that matter. It's so much nicer when they perceive me as a human, flaws and all.
It's been an off night, and I'll do a better sort later through what was up. I'd like to find some kind of conclusion, a reaction to this discomfort with men, that will help me function better in their presence. It is, after all, a little hard to avoid them altogether.
I just haven't really been writing. Not here, and not for school anymore, and not in my journal, and not anything fictional. Nothing. This, for me, is not a good thing.
Writing keeps me a little more sane, forces me to analyze my life, helps me to understand my feelings and experiences by articulating them. I really need to be doing it more, because I've been letting some good ol' life patterns (like the whole man issue I wrote about in my last post) build up without really dealing with them.
I spent tonight at a bar and then a dance club with a group of people from work, and although I enjoy the company of many of my coworkers, I was left feeling uncomfortable and almost grossed out after this evening. It really had nothing to do with my companions and everything to do with my feelings about men and being surrounded by them.
I was being lightly hit on by one male coworker, Y, who shared that he hasn't had sex in months and is desperate (his word!). He was also pursuing, and talking about pursuing, another coworker who is new to the office. C, the third woman in the group, picked up an Italian guy early on and got him to buy her drinks and make out with her.
I was being more subtly but also more persistently hit on by N, another male coworker who has a girlfriend but who admits that he make-out cheats on her when he's drunk. He kept saying he wanted to drink more so that he could make poor life choices and touching my knees. A random guy outside the club who I talked to for about a minute took the time to make sure that N would be escorting me home as it's not safe out there for a beautiful lady like myself.
I can't really say what it was that bugged me so much about the whole night, I just felt vaguely dirty, as though I was a part of something I didn't like. I wish there was some way to just check out of traditional gender roles entirely, to not be confronted with them all the time. I wish men didn't objectify me constantly based on my confidence and openness around sexuality. I don't want to be someone's wet dream.
I like it when people are attracted to me, sure, but not so much when it's because they think I'll be the perfect lay. Or the perfect anything, for that matter. It's so much nicer when they perceive me as a human, flaws and all.
It's been an off night, and I'll do a better sort later through what was up. I'd like to find some kind of conclusion, a reaction to this discomfort with men, that will help me function better in their presence. It is, after all, a little hard to avoid them altogether.
Stripping and "Hating" and Dating Men
When I first started stripping, I heard from lots of my coworkers and a few of my friends in the industry that the job would make me hate men. They said that when you do sex work, you see the worst in men and so it is inevitable that you start to dislike them at least a little. I didn't write this off entirely, as of course they had experience at that point and I didn't, but I hoped that it would be different for me.
I was, I rationalized, doing sex work for different reasons than most of them. I didn't need the money, I just kind of wanted to see what it was like to dance naked and get paid for it. I figured this privilege would protect me from making some of the compromises they might have had to, would protect me from a changing opinion of men. I knew the industry would definitely alter me, as everything in life does, but I figured my compassion could hold up to it in that regard.
Well, my compassion is certainly still there. I feel sorry for men much more than I hate them. But things have definitely changed in my feelings towards them.
I've been thinking about my recent heterosexual trend, wondering why my attention has been so much more on men than on women. It hasn't been for lack of physical attraction to women; it's just that when I meet a nicer (and attractive) man, my focus zooms in on him immediately. He stands out to me. This hasn't been happening much with women.
It occurred to me that I've got a little reaction formation going on when it comes to men. (Wikipedia: In psychoanalytic theory, reaction formation is a defensive process in which anxiety-producing or unacceptable emotions and impulses are mastered by exaggeration of the directly opposing tendency.) In this case, I'm very uncomfortable with and somewhat dislike men, so I've been dating them.
So I certainly don't hate men, but I do hate a lot of the things a lot of them do. I don't much like being objectified without my permission. (Accepting money for it is giving permission.) I don't like it when they assume I'm sexually available or feelingless based on my orientation or relationship style or job. I feel almost paranoid about being imposed upon by them, pushed into ways of being or thinking of myself that I don't like, and it affects me from day to day.
So I'm very defended against them. In order to protect myself, I have to be paying attention to the men around me at all times. I'm expending an enormous amount of energy and attention on making sure I don't interact with men in ways that will hurt me. I'm super up front about my job, orientation, and relationship style so that I can immediately avoid the men who objectify them. Putting up barriers like that takes a good amount of effort and so I'm always very aware of men.
What this means is that when I do find a guy who's nice to me, who doesn't do those things I hate, I've already been paying oodles of attention to him in order to find that out. It seems notable, remarkable, that he's not going to be sexist towards me. I appreciate him a lot. I date him, if he's available. There you go. I'm not as afraid of women, and so this happens less often.
(As a side note: I don't claim this is a rational reaction to anything. These are feelings and my attempt to understand them.)
Now, back to stripping. Stripping didn't force me somehow to have these feelings towards men. It's not even that men act much differently at a strip club than they do in general. In fact it's just the opposite, and that's the problem. Stripping commodifies the sexist interactions that exist every day, everywhere. It puts a monetary value on them and so it makes them very, very obvious.
As a stripper, I have to trade somewhat in misogyny, to play off it and manipulate it so that I can get lap dances and tips and avoid groping and slurs. It's something I simultaneously like and hate about the job. I've learned oodles about gender roles, particularly about what's dysfunctional in masculinity. I like learning. However, this knowledge makes it hard to move comfortably in a world that's so full of sexism. I'm just so aware all the time. I can't really sit back and accept it, learn to ignore it, bite the harness and move on like women have been doing for centuries. I'm psychologically fighting it out most of the time.
I'd like to try to shift my focus a little. It's probably unnecessary and certainly draining to be so defended all the time. I'd like to learn, in my day to day activities if not my scholarship and activism, to brush off sexist men. I don't want to let them inside my head, let them affect me, which is something I do have control over even when I can't change their behavior. It'd be nice, even, to spend more time with women and live more in a sisterhood community where I can feel safe. Focus on safety, on whom I am comfortable with rather than on whom I'm not.
I suppose it's a lesson for me as an activist. I want to keep working to change the things in the world that strike me as unfair and wrong, the things that make me angry and hurt me. I need also, though, to focus on healing from that anger and hurt. It's just as important.
I was, I rationalized, doing sex work for different reasons than most of them. I didn't need the money, I just kind of wanted to see what it was like to dance naked and get paid for it. I figured this privilege would protect me from making some of the compromises they might have had to, would protect me from a changing opinion of men. I knew the industry would definitely alter me, as everything in life does, but I figured my compassion could hold up to it in that regard.
Well, my compassion is certainly still there. I feel sorry for men much more than I hate them. But things have definitely changed in my feelings towards them.
I've been thinking about my recent heterosexual trend, wondering why my attention has been so much more on men than on women. It hasn't been for lack of physical attraction to women; it's just that when I meet a nicer (and attractive) man, my focus zooms in on him immediately. He stands out to me. This hasn't been happening much with women.
It occurred to me that I've got a little reaction formation going on when it comes to men. (Wikipedia: In psychoanalytic theory, reaction formation is a defensive process in which anxiety-producing or unacceptable emotions and impulses are mastered by exaggeration of the directly opposing tendency.) In this case, I'm very uncomfortable with and somewhat dislike men, so I've been dating them.
So I certainly don't hate men, but I do hate a lot of the things a lot of them do. I don't much like being objectified without my permission. (Accepting money for it is giving permission.) I don't like it when they assume I'm sexually available or feelingless based on my orientation or relationship style or job. I feel almost paranoid about being imposed upon by them, pushed into ways of being or thinking of myself that I don't like, and it affects me from day to day.
So I'm very defended against them. In order to protect myself, I have to be paying attention to the men around me at all times. I'm expending an enormous amount of energy and attention on making sure I don't interact with men in ways that will hurt me. I'm super up front about my job, orientation, and relationship style so that I can immediately avoid the men who objectify them. Putting up barriers like that takes a good amount of effort and so I'm always very aware of men.
What this means is that when I do find a guy who's nice to me, who doesn't do those things I hate, I've already been paying oodles of attention to him in order to find that out. It seems notable, remarkable, that he's not going to be sexist towards me. I appreciate him a lot. I date him, if he's available. There you go. I'm not as afraid of women, and so this happens less often.
(As a side note: I don't claim this is a rational reaction to anything. These are feelings and my attempt to understand them.)
Now, back to stripping. Stripping didn't force me somehow to have these feelings towards men. It's not even that men act much differently at a strip club than they do in general. In fact it's just the opposite, and that's the problem. Stripping commodifies the sexist interactions that exist every day, everywhere. It puts a monetary value on them and so it makes them very, very obvious.
As a stripper, I have to trade somewhat in misogyny, to play off it and manipulate it so that I can get lap dances and tips and avoid groping and slurs. It's something I simultaneously like and hate about the job. I've learned oodles about gender roles, particularly about what's dysfunctional in masculinity. I like learning. However, this knowledge makes it hard to move comfortably in a world that's so full of sexism. I'm just so aware all the time. I can't really sit back and accept it, learn to ignore it, bite the harness and move on like women have been doing for centuries. I'm psychologically fighting it out most of the time.
I'd like to try to shift my focus a little. It's probably unnecessary and certainly draining to be so defended all the time. I'd like to learn, in my day to day activities if not my scholarship and activism, to brush off sexist men. I don't want to let them inside my head, let them affect me, which is something I do have control over even when I can't change their behavior. It'd be nice, even, to spend more time with women and live more in a sisterhood community where I can feel safe. Focus on safety, on whom I am comfortable with rather than on whom I'm not.
I suppose it's a lesson for me as an activist. I want to keep working to change the things in the world that strike me as unfair and wrong, the things that make me angry and hurt me. I need also, though, to focus on healing from that anger and hurt. It's just as important.
Bisexuality and Dating Men
For the last couple of years, I've dated only men. I've slept with plenty of women, but all the people I've seen consistently or seriously were men. I wouldn't say that I've done this on purpose, but it's been a pretty obvious trend.
I think a lot of the reason for this is simple convenience. There are a lot more straight men scattered around in obvious places than there are queer women. They tend to approach me more often and I end up with them just as a matter of odds. In the past six months or so, I have been on more of a hetero kick, but that's not unusual. I've always gone through cycles of leaning one way or the other every once in a while. I had a lady cycle three years ago, and now I'm going the other way. Woo, fluid sexuality.
This trend of male-dating, however, puts me in a strange and slightly uncomfortable position. I'm a bisexual person who has been very involved in the queer community. In college, most of my female friends were queer. I was part of the leadership of the Gay Straight Alliance. I went to gay bars. Most of my jobs were in specifically queer-friendly or queer-oriented places. I tied a lot of my identity in with queerness.
And yet, most of my relationships were heterosexual. Straight, if you will.
Of course, the fact that my relationships are always open does allow me to sleep with women. That doesn't change the fact, though, that people assume I'm straight when I go out in public with a male sweetheart. It's sort of like the queer part of me is hidden inside myself.
I don't like feeling hidden. I end up questioning myself a lot because there is pressure from both sides to define and present myself as either queer or straight. It's not always an open or spoken pressure, although I've heard my share of "choose already" jokes and not-so-jokes. It's more often a pressure based on the fact that the queer community is so close and clearly-defined. There's a norm there, and there are great rewards of community and support for following it.
I do have a strong desire to be recognized for who I am and to fit in with a group. I'd like to be more independent, but part of my identity is based on how others see me. I suppose that's my own cross to bear, but it makes the bisexuality particularly hard when it keeps me separate from what seems to be such a fun and close-knit group. I'd like to be a part of it.
I'm not letting identity issues stop me from dating whomever I like (or love) or dressing how I want or making friends with whomever I want. It does cause me some angst, though, when I feel excluded not only from the straight world which kind of turns me off anyway, but the queer community that appeals to me.
I think a lot of the reason for this is simple convenience. There are a lot more straight men scattered around in obvious places than there are queer women. They tend to approach me more often and I end up with them just as a matter of odds. In the past six months or so, I have been on more of a hetero kick, but that's not unusual. I've always gone through cycles of leaning one way or the other every once in a while. I had a lady cycle three years ago, and now I'm going the other way. Woo, fluid sexuality.
This trend of male-dating, however, puts me in a strange and slightly uncomfortable position. I'm a bisexual person who has been very involved in the queer community. In college, most of my female friends were queer. I was part of the leadership of the Gay Straight Alliance. I went to gay bars. Most of my jobs were in specifically queer-friendly or queer-oriented places. I tied a lot of my identity in with queerness.
And yet, most of my relationships were heterosexual. Straight, if you will.
Of course, the fact that my relationships are always open does allow me to sleep with women. That doesn't change the fact, though, that people assume I'm straight when I go out in public with a male sweetheart. It's sort of like the queer part of me is hidden inside myself.
I don't like feeling hidden. I end up questioning myself a lot because there is pressure from both sides to define and present myself as either queer or straight. It's not always an open or spoken pressure, although I've heard my share of "choose already" jokes and not-so-jokes. It's more often a pressure based on the fact that the queer community is so close and clearly-defined. There's a norm there, and there are great rewards of community and support for following it.
I do have a strong desire to be recognized for who I am and to fit in with a group. I'd like to be more independent, but part of my identity is based on how others see me. I suppose that's my own cross to bear, but it makes the bisexuality particularly hard when it keeps me separate from what seems to be such a fun and close-knit group. I'd like to be a part of it.
I'm not letting identity issues stop me from dating whomever I like (or love) or dressing how I want or making friends with whomever I want. It does cause me some angst, though, when I feel excluded not only from the straight world which kind of turns me off anyway, but the queer community that appeals to me.
The World Provides
Life, the universe, and everything are pretty amazing sometimes. As in surprising and challenging and I'm amazed amazing. If you read here, you know I wrote this...
Well, the world seems to have provided. Ironically enough, I've started spending a lot of time with S's best friend X. X and I slept together with S there (and participating a little) about two weeks ago, and I went to visit X in Santa Cruz for four days the other weekend. He's loving and spiritual and all these things that I haven't had in my life for so long. It's kind of nuts and I have no idea what's going to happen, but I'm going with the flow. X has moved up to the city now to live with S (I know) so I'm seeing him a lot.
I don't have much else to say. I haven't been blogging very much because I've been kind of reevaluating my life and what I want to be doing with it and that's eating up my brain. Hopefully I'll come to some conclusions soon and then I'll have more to say.
"I've been doing a lot of thinking and my conclusion is this: I'm not in a primary relationship (of any kind) and I want to be. So I need to start acting like that's the truth instead of ignoring it. Time to communicate what I actually need, to be clear with new partners. I want cuddles and talking in low voices and doing things together that aren't sex and comfort and familiarity with body and mind and someone to do things with and a partner in crime and someone to call me on my shit and the ability to fight sometimes and have it be okay. I want to actually get closer. I want love."...about two weeks ago.
Well, the world seems to have provided. Ironically enough, I've started spending a lot of time with S's best friend X. X and I slept together with S there (and participating a little) about two weeks ago, and I went to visit X in Santa Cruz for four days the other weekend. He's loving and spiritual and all these things that I haven't had in my life for so long. It's kind of nuts and I have no idea what's going to happen, but I'm going with the flow. X has moved up to the city now to live with S (I know) so I'm seeing him a lot.
I don't have much else to say. I haven't been blogging very much because I've been kind of reevaluating my life and what I want to be doing with it and that's eating up my brain. Hopefully I'll come to some conclusions soon and then I'll have more to say.
Word Vomit: My Life Since Graduation
I haven't blogged in a while because I've been feeling again like I don't know what to say. A lot has been going on in my internal life, and it's a little hard to pin it all down and have it figured out enough to share it with other people.
Graduating college and moving across the country (again) but this time moving away from upstate New York for good has been kind of hard on me. I'm missing my friends in New York, and I'm missing the two pretty awesome lovers I'd started seeing not long before I left (curse my timing), and I'm missing the admittedly stressful busy life I had there. I'm kind of reeling at the end of my college life, my mode of being for the last four years, and also to a certain extent the end of my childhood. (Or adolescence or whatever.)
I'm feeling the fact that my friends from San Francisco mostly don't actually live here anymore. I'm lonely.
The worst thing right now is that a major reason I came back west at all this summer was to be available to explore the relationship I started with S when I was here over winter break. We've been talking over the internet for months, talking about what we'd do when I got here and making all sorts of loosely imagined plans. I was very excited to see him.
For a variety of reasons, though, he seems not to be making himself available to me, and I don't think he wants to pursue the relationship anymore. Maybe he never did and my expectations were just too high; I don't know. I haven't had a chance to talk to him about it, as I think he may be avoiding me. We've only hung out with other people there. From small hints, though, it seems like he's no longer that interested.
I'm disappointed, to say the least. Even in the last few weeks he'd talked about how excited he was that he'd get to see me soon. I was very much looking forward to actually getting to spend time with him. Yet it just hasn't been happening.
I've gone on a few dates with other people, had a little sex. It's been pretty unfulfilling, and I know it's in the absence of doing anything to take care of my emotions. I don't even really have friends here. I don't have the possibility of a primary relationship, which is what I was so eager to explore with S. It's difficult for this transition to be so different from what I was expecting.
It's really hard for me to admit that I want to be in a relationship, that I want to really get to know someone, that I want to work toward intimacy. It feels so unhip, and I almost feel weak that I can't just put it aside until it's more convenient and enjoy the sex and the eventual friendships for now. As soon as I get anything going, I'll just be leaving again. Seems sort of silly to try and find closeness now, anyway.
My body's not letting me put it off, though; I'm feeling more and more shut down as I try. It's clearly time for me to do something differently.
I've been doing a lot of thinking and my conclusion is this: I'm not in a primary relationship (of any kind) and I want to be. So I need to start acting like that's the truth instead of ignoring it. Time to communicate what I actually need, to be clear with new partners. I want cuddles and talking in low voices and doing things together that aren't sex and comfort and familiarity with body and mind and someone to do things with and a partner in crime and someone to call me on my shit and the ability to fight sometimes and have it be okay. I want to actually get closer. I want love.
Easier said to myself than done. Now I have to say it to other people, prospects, and to encourage it to happen without forcing it. It's all such a delicate balance. I have to find that tightrope, though, and start walking it, because it's the right thing for me right now and ignoring it is getting me nowhere.
Graduating college and moving across the country (again) but this time moving away from upstate New York for good has been kind of hard on me. I'm missing my friends in New York, and I'm missing the two pretty awesome lovers I'd started seeing not long before I left (curse my timing), and I'm missing the admittedly stressful busy life I had there. I'm kind of reeling at the end of my college life, my mode of being for the last four years, and also to a certain extent the end of my childhood. (Or adolescence or whatever.)
I'm feeling the fact that my friends from San Francisco mostly don't actually live here anymore. I'm lonely.
The worst thing right now is that a major reason I came back west at all this summer was to be available to explore the relationship I started with S when I was here over winter break. We've been talking over the internet for months, talking about what we'd do when I got here and making all sorts of loosely imagined plans. I was very excited to see him.
For a variety of reasons, though, he seems not to be making himself available to me, and I don't think he wants to pursue the relationship anymore. Maybe he never did and my expectations were just too high; I don't know. I haven't had a chance to talk to him about it, as I think he may be avoiding me. We've only hung out with other people there. From small hints, though, it seems like he's no longer that interested.
I'm disappointed, to say the least. Even in the last few weeks he'd talked about how excited he was that he'd get to see me soon. I was very much looking forward to actually getting to spend time with him. Yet it just hasn't been happening.
I've gone on a few dates with other people, had a little sex. It's been pretty unfulfilling, and I know it's in the absence of doing anything to take care of my emotions. I don't even really have friends here. I don't have the possibility of a primary relationship, which is what I was so eager to explore with S. It's difficult for this transition to be so different from what I was expecting.
It's really hard for me to admit that I want to be in a relationship, that I want to really get to know someone, that I want to work toward intimacy. It feels so unhip, and I almost feel weak that I can't just put it aside until it's more convenient and enjoy the sex and the eventual friendships for now. As soon as I get anything going, I'll just be leaving again. Seems sort of silly to try and find closeness now, anyway.
My body's not letting me put it off, though; I'm feeling more and more shut down as I try. It's clearly time for me to do something differently.
I've been doing a lot of thinking and my conclusion is this: I'm not in a primary relationship (of any kind) and I want to be. So I need to start acting like that's the truth instead of ignoring it. Time to communicate what I actually need, to be clear with new partners. I want cuddles and talking in low voices and doing things together that aren't sex and comfort and familiarity with body and mind and someone to do things with and a partner in crime and someone to call me on my shit and the ability to fight sometimes and have it be okay. I want to actually get closer. I want love.
Easier said to myself than done. Now I have to say it to other people, prospects, and to encourage it to happen without forcing it. It's all such a delicate balance. I have to find that tightrope, though, and start walking it, because it's the right thing for me right now and ignoring it is getting me nowhere.
Lazy Sunday, Sunny Kissing
I spent the night on Saturday at the house of one of my gentleman friends after his party. He was (and is) sick, coughing up a little lung, but I've got a get-out-of-contagion-free card with my antibiotics. He is good at cuddling and I slept well. It's a feat for two people in a twin bed to sleep comfortably; I like fitting together well.
I stayed for breakfast and afterwards we brought blankets out into the sun, and laid there wrapped around each other. He's a very good kisser, very soft and slow which I adore. It's hard to find in a man, that care in brushing our lips together and feeling all the layers of skin. There are those who lead with the tongue, and too much spit, and pressure that's consistent and hard, not variable and playful. He lets me nip at him a little, kiss lightly at the corner of his mouth, and I can pull away to look at him, tease him.
He pulled me on top of him so I could wriggle and feel him hard in his shorts; I know he doesn't wear underwear. We rolled so that the gaggle of fraternity men four houses down couldn't see between our bodies, and he slid his hand to the neckline of my tank top.
My nipples are fiercely sensitive, in the best way, and he had promised earlier to experiment with them. I couldn't touch my vulva, even a little, and he knew it. He wanted to please me just through my breasts. I couldn't make much noise, as the neighbors had started a barbecue next door, but I could breathe into his ear, bite it, and tell him how good it felt. I could slide a blatantly obvious arm between us and try to cup him through his pants.
"I think I need to get you inside soon." He said it as he pinched the tip of my nipple between his index and middle fingers. "As in now."
We went, skipping past his friend napping on the couch, up the stairs to his bedroom, and I made him come into my mouth with the sexy, goofy look on his face that meant I'd done it right.
I stayed for breakfast and afterwards we brought blankets out into the sun, and laid there wrapped around each other. He's a very good kisser, very soft and slow which I adore. It's hard to find in a man, that care in brushing our lips together and feeling all the layers of skin. There are those who lead with the tongue, and too much spit, and pressure that's consistent and hard, not variable and playful. He lets me nip at him a little, kiss lightly at the corner of his mouth, and I can pull away to look at him, tease him.
He pulled me on top of him so I could wriggle and feel him hard in his shorts; I know he doesn't wear underwear. We rolled so that the gaggle of fraternity men four houses down couldn't see between our bodies, and he slid his hand to the neckline of my tank top.
My nipples are fiercely sensitive, in the best way, and he had promised earlier to experiment with them. I couldn't touch my vulva, even a little, and he knew it. He wanted to please me just through my breasts. I couldn't make much noise, as the neighbors had started a barbecue next door, but I could breathe into his ear, bite it, and tell him how good it felt. I could slide a blatantly obvious arm between us and try to cup him through his pants.
"I think I need to get you inside soon." He said it as he pinched the tip of my nipple between his index and middle fingers. "As in now."
We went, skipping past his friend napping on the couch, up the stairs to his bedroom, and I made him come into my mouth with the sexy, goofy look on his face that meant I'd done it right.
General Randomness, Graduating, and Copious Sex
It's been weeks since I posted, I know.
I'm in a very weird space where I'm approaching the end of my undergraduate whatever and the sense of winding down has kind of taken over my life. It's really starting to sink in that I'm leaving here and that this phase of my life, these connections with this large group of people, are coming to an end.
Yes, I will visit here. Yes, I will still stay in touch with and go on loving some of the people who have been a part of my life here. There's a lot, though, that won't continue after that ceremony ends on May 17th and I drive my shit to New York City on the 18th.
I've been slowly checking out of everything here, from my campus activism to the writing of my column to my classes. The blog, unfortunately, has been sort of lumped in with the general check-out. I promise, though, that I'll get back to it more regularly sometime soon.
I've been spending a lot of time with people, trying to sort of appreciate my relationships. That's been really good, and there are definitely a few more people I'd like some one on one time with before I leave. I feel like it's important for me to express how much I appreciate my friends and lovers before I go, to make sure we'll stay in touch.
On a mostly unrelated note, I've also made an OkCupid account, and boy is that site awesome. I think I've got an advantage on there as a woman because the gender dynamics are very concretely traditional. The men seem to make a lot of overtures. I am listed as bisexual and am looking for women, but haven't found or been approached by as many of them. Despite that lack, I'm pretty spoiled for choice and get to be picky.
Because of that, I've met a few really cool guys whose company I've been enjoying immensely. I haven't had this much consistent good sex in ages, and it's even more fun that it's with more than one person. The ones I've been seeing repeatedly are all really cool and interesting, and good in bed to boot. I'm having great luck with the site.
So the ridiculous amount of sex I've been having is also a time suck. Maybe I'll write more about that, although I have a feeling one or two of them might be reading this blog, which could get awkward. I have generally avoided real time blogging about the sex that I have. I'll write about past encounters, but to avoid discomfort or hurt feelins I haven't written up things as they happen. Maybe it's time for a change. I've got a few fun stories to tell.
I'm in a very weird space where I'm approaching the end of my undergraduate whatever and the sense of winding down has kind of taken over my life. It's really starting to sink in that I'm leaving here and that this phase of my life, these connections with this large group of people, are coming to an end.
Yes, I will visit here. Yes, I will still stay in touch with and go on loving some of the people who have been a part of my life here. There's a lot, though, that won't continue after that ceremony ends on May 17th and I drive my shit to New York City on the 18th.
I've been slowly checking out of everything here, from my campus activism to the writing of my column to my classes. The blog, unfortunately, has been sort of lumped in with the general check-out. I promise, though, that I'll get back to it more regularly sometime soon.
I've been spending a lot of time with people, trying to sort of appreciate my relationships. That's been really good, and there are definitely a few more people I'd like some one on one time with before I leave. I feel like it's important for me to express how much I appreciate my friends and lovers before I go, to make sure we'll stay in touch.
On a mostly unrelated note, I've also made an OkCupid account, and boy is that site awesome. I think I've got an advantage on there as a woman because the gender dynamics are very concretely traditional. The men seem to make a lot of overtures. I am listed as bisexual and am looking for women, but haven't found or been approached by as many of them. Despite that lack, I'm pretty spoiled for choice and get to be picky.
Because of that, I've met a few really cool guys whose company I've been enjoying immensely. I haven't had this much consistent good sex in ages, and it's even more fun that it's with more than one person. The ones I've been seeing repeatedly are all really cool and interesting, and good in bed to boot. I'm having great luck with the site.
So the ridiculous amount of sex I've been having is also a time suck. Maybe I'll write more about that, although I have a feeling one or two of them might be reading this blog, which could get awkward. I have generally avoided real time blogging about the sex that I have. I'll write about past encounters, but to avoid discomfort or hurt feelins I haven't written up things as they happen. Maybe it's time for a change. I've got a few fun stories to tell.
Good Lap Dances
I love it when I can get really into lap dances. It's so much fun when the conditions are just right and I can get turned on by what I'm doing. It doesn't happen all that often, but it's not that rare either. I'm a big tease and love touch just in general. It's a given that the act of giving the lap dance would be sexy to me sometimes.
The hottest thing for me in a lap dance is a respectful and responsive customer. If they're busy trying to grab my ass or grind their dicks against me, pushing and pulling me this way and that, then I'm busy trying to fend them off and can't really have fun. Even if they're pushing the boundaries just a little, it means I have to be on alert and can't relax into the experience and have fun.
Then, as long as they're keeping their hands to themselves, I love feeling, hearing, and seeing a man or woman respond to what I'm doing. I like to hear that their breath is coming more quickly. I like to feel the erection. I like the look that people get on their faces and the wistful comments they make about how much they'd love to actually be able to fuck me. (Again, so long as it's not in a pushing, pressuring kind of way.)
That actually turns me on. I'll get wet. It becomes a better lap dance, I get more into it, and the sexy looks I'm giving them are genuine. Those kinds of lap dances are so much fun.
I had one of them tonight, with a guy who was attractive as a bonus. While yes, I do get turned on in dances fairly frequently, it's almost never with a young, pretty guy. It was lovely, and now I'm in a good mood and all energized. Too bad it's the middle of the night and there's nobody around to play with.
The hottest thing for me in a lap dance is a respectful and responsive customer. If they're busy trying to grab my ass or grind their dicks against me, pushing and pulling me this way and that, then I'm busy trying to fend them off and can't really have fun. Even if they're pushing the boundaries just a little, it means I have to be on alert and can't relax into the experience and have fun.
Then, as long as they're keeping their hands to themselves, I love feeling, hearing, and seeing a man or woman respond to what I'm doing. I like to hear that their breath is coming more quickly. I like to feel the erection. I like the look that people get on their faces and the wistful comments they make about how much they'd love to actually be able to fuck me. (Again, so long as it's not in a pushing, pressuring kind of way.)
That actually turns me on. I'll get wet. It becomes a better lap dance, I get more into it, and the sexy looks I'm giving them are genuine. Those kinds of lap dances are so much fun.
I had one of them tonight, with a guy who was attractive as a bonus. While yes, I do get turned on in dances fairly frequently, it's almost never with a young, pretty guy. It was lovely, and now I'm in a good mood and all energized. Too bad it's the middle of the night and there's nobody around to play with.
Quick but Excellent Link on Masculinity
Really, really good post on masculinity and what it would take to create a more egalitarian gender structure. I really like Hugo Schwyzer's blog; he says some really wonderful things about masculinity and parenting. Here's an excerpt from the post:
The feminist project is, in the end, about men too. Women’s liberation can’t be dependent upon men, of course; women don’t need men’s blessing in order to become autonomous agents, freed at last from the chains of custom and the bonds of biology. (Sorry, I’m tired, and the prose gets purple when I’m underslept.) But the benefits of feminism are undeniable for men: a chance to be full and complete human beings, capable of courage and tenderness in equal measure; a chance to be loved for who they are rather than what they can perform. That’s precious stuff indeed. But men raised on the noxious elixir of traditional manhood will find it difficult to adapt quickly to this new paradigm, even when the old model has proved so unsatisfactory. What’s needed is a continued cultural revolution, aimed at redefining what it means to be male, aimed at liberating boys and young men from the masculine straitjacket.Read it. The whole thing. It's spot on.
25 Things About My Sexuality
I'm sure you've all seen the 25 things meme on Facebook or wherever, given that the New York Times wrote about it. There's a new blog up where folks can anonymously share 25 things about their sexuality. It's an interesting read and I figured it'd be fun to join in. I'm posting my 25 things on here, since this blog has enough anonymity for me.
1. I'm a stripper (duh, if you read this blog) and I've dated/had sex with exactly one man that I met at work. It was when I first started and he was very cute and nice, but terrible in bed. After our first time, I stopped seeing him.
2. My first clue that I was interested in women was when I was 12. I had a sex dream about my sister. I was pretty horrified and upset, but also suddenly realized that I was seeing women in a sexual way. This was quite separate from my sister, but it's always bugged me that she was in the dream that brought me to that realization.
3. I "came out of the closet" at the exact moment that I realized the label bisexual could apply to me. I was on the bus on the way home from school and discussing what bisexuality meant with some acquaintances. I said "I know I'm attracted to guys, but I'm pretty sure I'm also into girls. So yeah, I guess I'm bisexual." Thank you, California upbringing.
4. I once gave a boyfriend a blow job in front of a pack (flock? gaggle?) of wild turkeys. Really.
5. I almost never masturbate with my fingers. I went from rubbing myself against a stuffed animal for years to using a vibrator. Fingers are generally too rough for my very sensitive clit. I can make it work, but it takes a LOT of effort and lube.
6. The first person I fell in love with was an emotionally abusive asshole. The only good things he did for me were teach me how to drink and give me lots of good sex. He also made me feel bad, though, about sex, as part of the whole abuse thing. I'm proud of myself for getting out of it before he became physically abusive, as he did with his next girlfriend.
7. I took naked pictures of myself when I was a teen and sent them to at least one person I was having random cyber sex with. My mom found them on my computer and chose to believe me when I told her they were just for me. I deleted them. It makes me feel kind of awkward (and scared, given recent prosecutions) that they may still be out there.
8. I didn't have sex with a woman until I got to college. This made me feel a little like a fraud saying I was bisexual, but I knew it was true. I didn't tell my first few female sexual partners how inexperienced I was. I wish I had, so I could've spent that time learning from them.
9. When I was young I used to have fantasies about being tied up by a male figure and put in cold places or deprived of food and then fed grapes. They were vague fantasies and not exactly sexual as I'd mean the word now. They were arousing, though, in a not-quite-sexual-yet-but-almost way.
10. I keep a list of all the people I've had sexual encounters with. If I didn't, I'd have trouble naming them all, particularly in order. I like to look back at it and remember.
11. I used to read and write erotic short stories and romance and erotic novels. I got teased at school for reading "porn for women," which actually didn't bother me at all. I was kind of proud.
12. I've never watched that much porn although I find it very arousing. It's too much effort to find what I like to see, and I can get off just fine without it. Lately, I've been trying harder.
13. My first time having anal sex was when the afore-mentioned abusive boyfriend got me drunk on his birthday. I was open to the idea sober so I didn't mind. However, the only time we'd talked about it, I'd said I wasn't sure. I'm pretty certain that he was getting me drunk so I'd do it, which is really rapey. It's a weird situation because I was actually willing despite the alcohol, but he didn't know that.
14. I love group sex. I want to have much, much more of it. I've had a few really good threesomes, a foursome with all bi folks which was fantastic, and one of my favorite sex experiences was a lesbian orgy in San Francisco I was lucky enough to be invited to.
15. I have had sex in all kinds of ridiculous places. I've posted here before about how much I love public sex. It's definitely something I've done a lot and will continue to do.
16. I'm just starting to really experiment with BDSM. I've been interested in it for a long time, but the community's focus on pushing boundaries was really intimidating. I'm finally at a point where I'm comfortable negotiating exactly what I want so I can feel okay with someone topping me. Boundary pushing can come over time.
17. I really like being spanked. I'm not sure why this is as I was never spanked as a kid and it's arousing in absence of any role playing. I just like the way it feels; it turns me on.
18. I go through phases where I'm more attracted to one sex/gender than others, but normally I'm pretty pansexual. I don't identify as pansexual because most of the people I've met who do are kind of annoying. Growing up, being pansexual was the cool, non-conformist thing to do and I still associate it with that.
19. The more sex advice I give, the more I realize how little I actually know about sex and the more comfortable I get with that fact. There are always more questions and new things to learn!
20. I like sex outside of committed relationships, but not really "casual" sex. I want to have a connection with someone I'm sleeping with, even if it's just once for forty minutes. Otherwise it's not particularly satisfying to me, even if I have fifteen orgasms.
21. I almost always masturbate before I go to sleep. I often also masturbate at random moments during the day when I'm reading or bored or just horny. It's been a very long time since I've gone more than one day without masturbating.
22. I sometimes get aroused during lap dances. It has a lot to do with how respectful and responsive my customer is. If he or she is both, I'll get turned on.
23. The only things I can think of when my mom asks me "What do you want for your birthday?" are more sex toys. They're some of the only things I want that are too expensive to buy for myself. It doesn't seem appropriate, despite our good relationship, to ask Mom for them.
24. My best friend calls me "Little Nelly Bottom." I worry sometimes that by being more of a bottom I'm not contributing enough to sex. I know that bottoming for me is as much about giving and wanting to please, but I still wonder sometimes if I'm being lazy by wanting my partner(s) to take control.
25. I'm hugely orally fixated, in a not-just-a-joke kind of way. I love giving head and kissing and using my mouth as much as possible during sex. I have a candy problem. I chew on things. When I masturbate, I do things with my mouth like bite my pillow, suck on my fingers, or go down on a dildo.
1. I'm a stripper (duh, if you read this blog) and I've dated/had sex with exactly one man that I met at work. It was when I first started and he was very cute and nice, but terrible in bed. After our first time, I stopped seeing him.
2. My first clue that I was interested in women was when I was 12. I had a sex dream about my sister. I was pretty horrified and upset, but also suddenly realized that I was seeing women in a sexual way. This was quite separate from my sister, but it's always bugged me that she was in the dream that brought me to that realization.
3. I "came out of the closet" at the exact moment that I realized the label bisexual could apply to me. I was on the bus on the way home from school and discussing what bisexuality meant with some acquaintances. I said "I know I'm attracted to guys, but I'm pretty sure I'm also into girls. So yeah, I guess I'm bisexual." Thank you, California upbringing.
4. I once gave a boyfriend a blow job in front of a pack (flock? gaggle?) of wild turkeys. Really.
5. I almost never masturbate with my fingers. I went from rubbing myself against a stuffed animal for years to using a vibrator. Fingers are generally too rough for my very sensitive clit. I can make it work, but it takes a LOT of effort and lube.
6. The first person I fell in love with was an emotionally abusive asshole. The only good things he did for me were teach me how to drink and give me lots of good sex. He also made me feel bad, though, about sex, as part of the whole abuse thing. I'm proud of myself for getting out of it before he became physically abusive, as he did with his next girlfriend.
7. I took naked pictures of myself when I was a teen and sent them to at least one person I was having random cyber sex with. My mom found them on my computer and chose to believe me when I told her they were just for me. I deleted them. It makes me feel kind of awkward (and scared, given recent prosecutions) that they may still be out there.
8. I didn't have sex with a woman until I got to college. This made me feel a little like a fraud saying I was bisexual, but I knew it was true. I didn't tell my first few female sexual partners how inexperienced I was. I wish I had, so I could've spent that time learning from them.
9. When I was young I used to have fantasies about being tied up by a male figure and put in cold places or deprived of food and then fed grapes. They were vague fantasies and not exactly sexual as I'd mean the word now. They were arousing, though, in a not-quite-sexual-yet-but-almost way.
10. I keep a list of all the people I've had sexual encounters with. If I didn't, I'd have trouble naming them all, particularly in order. I like to look back at it and remember.
11. I used to read and write erotic short stories and romance and erotic novels. I got teased at school for reading "porn for women," which actually didn't bother me at all. I was kind of proud.
12. I've never watched that much porn although I find it very arousing. It's too much effort to find what I like to see, and I can get off just fine without it. Lately, I've been trying harder.
13. My first time having anal sex was when the afore-mentioned abusive boyfriend got me drunk on his birthday. I was open to the idea sober so I didn't mind. However, the only time we'd talked about it, I'd said I wasn't sure. I'm pretty certain that he was getting me drunk so I'd do it, which is really rapey. It's a weird situation because I was actually willing despite the alcohol, but he didn't know that.
14. I love group sex. I want to have much, much more of it. I've had a few really good threesomes, a foursome with all bi folks which was fantastic, and one of my favorite sex experiences was a lesbian orgy in San Francisco I was lucky enough to be invited to.
15. I have had sex in all kinds of ridiculous places. I've posted here before about how much I love public sex. It's definitely something I've done a lot and will continue to do.
16. I'm just starting to really experiment with BDSM. I've been interested in it for a long time, but the community's focus on pushing boundaries was really intimidating. I'm finally at a point where I'm comfortable negotiating exactly what I want so I can feel okay with someone topping me. Boundary pushing can come over time.
17. I really like being spanked. I'm not sure why this is as I was never spanked as a kid and it's arousing in absence of any role playing. I just like the way it feels; it turns me on.
18. I go through phases where I'm more attracted to one sex/gender than others, but normally I'm pretty pansexual. I don't identify as pansexual because most of the people I've met who do are kind of annoying. Growing up, being pansexual was the cool, non-conformist thing to do and I still associate it with that.
19. The more sex advice I give, the more I realize how little I actually know about sex and the more comfortable I get with that fact. There are always more questions and new things to learn!
20. I like sex outside of committed relationships, but not really "casual" sex. I want to have a connection with someone I'm sleeping with, even if it's just once for forty minutes. Otherwise it's not particularly satisfying to me, even if I have fifteen orgasms.
21. I almost always masturbate before I go to sleep. I often also masturbate at random moments during the day when I'm reading or bored or just horny. It's been a very long time since I've gone more than one day without masturbating.
22. I sometimes get aroused during lap dances. It has a lot to do with how respectful and responsive my customer is. If he or she is both, I'll get turned on.
23. The only things I can think of when my mom asks me "What do you want for your birthday?" are more sex toys. They're some of the only things I want that are too expensive to buy for myself. It doesn't seem appropriate, despite our good relationship, to ask Mom for them.
24. My best friend calls me "Little Nelly Bottom." I worry sometimes that by being more of a bottom I'm not contributing enough to sex. I know that bottoming for me is as much about giving and wanting to please, but I still wonder sometimes if I'm being lazy by wanting my partner(s) to take control.
25. I'm hugely orally fixated, in a not-just-a-joke kind of way. I love giving head and kissing and using my mouth as much as possible during sex. I have a candy problem. I chew on things. When I masturbate, I do things with my mouth like bite my pillow, suck on my fingers, or go down on a dildo.
Road Trip
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When I was at home in San Francisco over winter break, I got together with a guy I'd been talking with online for some time. I met him once over the summer, but we'd gotten to know each other over the internet and have a lot in common. He'd been really sweet to me when I had a (serious, depressing) issue with a friend in the middle of the night and had no one else to talk to.
He's straight, but also works as a stripper at a gay male club in San Francisco. He almost never wears shirts, likes women's underwear, and is totally adorable. I like him quite a bit; he's such a delightfully queer straight man!
Anyway, we were just talking about great it would be to go on a road trip across the country, stripping our way from San Francisco to New York. We've got friends to stay with along the way and a great way to both fund and fuel the trip. I have no idea whether it'll actually happen, but I'd love for it to. Doesn't it look like fun?
Spanked
Look at what I've been up to!
I don't really think I need to comment much, but I did find a post at Secret Confessions of a Smart Girl (as I was uploading the picture for my own post!) that sums up my feelings on it perfectly. I've been having a little hetero phase (they happen from time to time, as do lezzie phases) so it's right with my recent mindset.
I don't really think I need to comment much, but I did find a post at Secret Confessions of a Smart Girl (as I was uploading the picture for my own post!) that sums up my feelings on it perfectly. I've been having a little hetero phase (they happen from time to time, as do lezzie phases) so it's right with my recent mindset.
...Fist your hand in my hair to pull me over your knee. I want you to pull my skirt up to my waist and my panties down to my knees and for the spanking to begin. I want to feel your hand hard against my ass, over and over again. I want to feel that tenting in your trousers as I squirm against them, so I know that what you are doing to me turns you on. Then, as you run your hand over my ass to feel the warmth you’ve created there, I want your fingers to dip lower. I want you to notice the dampness in my cunt so that you know that I am a naughty naughty girl. I want you to brush your fingers across my clit, and then I want you to hit me harder.Yeah.
I Am a Ridiculous Individual
I just narrowly avoided accidentally having two guys I wanted to fool around with show up in my room at the same time. You know, simultaneous rendezvous.
It was an accident. My friend C had inquired as to my plans for the night and I'd invited him to hang out. He and I hooked up a couple times casually (read: drunk). We've been inching our way closer to sex again for the last few weeks.
The slow pace isn't my usual thing, especially since we've already done the whole sex thing, but I'm liking it. We cuddled and talked for hours the other week and it was lovely. I've been friends with C for years, and while it was weird at first to get sexually involved with him, I really enjoy the time we spend together. I was looking forward to pursuing it more.
He didn't respond, though, to my text telling him I was free and in my room. He'd said he wanted to hang out, but I thought maybe he got sidetracked or was busy. (It happens to the best of us.)
So then I got an instant message from this other fellow, A, who I hooked up with once maybe a month ago. He is in a fraternity, which I find funny, but he's pretty interesting and definitely cute. He's not shy talking in general and about sex, which I like. He asked what I was up to tonight and since I hadn't heard back from C, I invited him over. He said he'd be at my room in a half hour.
Five minutes later, I got a text message from C saying he was on his way to my room.
I had a brief moment of alarm. I would have preferred to see C, but had no easy way to blow off A since he was very definitely coming and was no longer online. I have his phone number, but that would have been either a very awkward conversation or a very rude text message. Since C and I were already friends, I figured I could text him to postpone, see him tomorrow, and it would all be fine.
Two hours later I'm pretty satiated and very much looking forward to tomorrow, when I get to see C. Which is why I am a ridiculous individual.
Lord knows either of said gentlemen could read this post and be miffed, but I'm hoping for the best. Everybody knows I don't do monogamy...it might be time to have a chat and disclose to C just how little monogamy I do, so there are no surprises.
It was an accident. My friend C had inquired as to my plans for the night and I'd invited him to hang out. He and I hooked up a couple times casually (read: drunk). We've been inching our way closer to sex again for the last few weeks.
The slow pace isn't my usual thing, especially since we've already done the whole sex thing, but I'm liking it. We cuddled and talked for hours the other week and it was lovely. I've been friends with C for years, and while it was weird at first to get sexually involved with him, I really enjoy the time we spend together. I was looking forward to pursuing it more.
He didn't respond, though, to my text telling him I was free and in my room. He'd said he wanted to hang out, but I thought maybe he got sidetracked or was busy. (It happens to the best of us.)
So then I got an instant message from this other fellow, A, who I hooked up with once maybe a month ago. He is in a fraternity, which I find funny, but he's pretty interesting and definitely cute. He's not shy talking in general and about sex, which I like. He asked what I was up to tonight and since I hadn't heard back from C, I invited him over. He said he'd be at my room in a half hour.
Five minutes later, I got a text message from C saying he was on his way to my room.
I had a brief moment of alarm. I would have preferred to see C, but had no easy way to blow off A since he was very definitely coming and was no longer online. I have his phone number, but that would have been either a very awkward conversation or a very rude text message. Since C and I were already friends, I figured I could text him to postpone, see him tomorrow, and it would all be fine.
Two hours later I'm pretty satiated and very much looking forward to tomorrow, when I get to see C. Which is why I am a ridiculous individual.
Lord knows either of said gentlemen could read this post and be miffed, but I'm hoping for the best. Everybody knows I don't do monogamy...it might be time to have a chat and disclose to C just how little monogamy I do, so there are no surprises.
On living, loving, learning, and fucking with the materials I've got at hand.
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