9 years old
Though I am running a fever, I go to a dear friend’s sleepover at her insistence. The conversation turns to my developing body. I am the only girl in the fourth grade wearing a bra. The other girls pressure me, mock me, calling me names, chiding me for my boob fat, » Read more
Polyamory. It’s a woman’s world.
Don’t look at me like that. 😛 I’m not hating on men! I have character witnesses that will testify that I (enthusiastically) love me some men – despite the strange looks I’ve gotten from some of my friends.
That’s the problem, really. The curious double standard. » Read more
We were all children at one point.
The last few days, I’ve been considering the idea that D/s mimics a lot of social interplay in childhood before we are properly “socialized.” Without getting into gory and depressing details, sexual humiliation is a central part of my psyche and formative sexual experiences simply from having been the first girl in my class to develop and having a strict French Canadian Catholic upbringing. » Read more
It’s been a crazy couple of years socially speaking. A year and a half ago, my husband and I opened our marriage. A few months before we came to that decision, I was the heaviest I’d been in my whole life. It was riddled with intense pain so crippling that I couldn’t walk across a room without wincing, » Read more
Why do I crave what many others would consider abuse?
Is it for the pain?
The freedom from my own identity that comes from reflexive self-subversion?
Is it for the attention?
Is it to be useful?
Useful. That word resonates with me.
I, » Read more
I came out about my sexual orientation to my mother today.
It started when we were talking about one of my friends from college. “You knew she was gay, right?” I said.
Mom said, “I think so. I barely remember her.”
“You know, Mom,” I continued. “I have A LOT of gay friends.” » Read more
1998: On my own at UMass Amherst for the summer, I make friends with a hippie gentleman in his late 50’s (a jazz violinist) who informs that he has an open marriage. I am 17 at the time, and he tells me that I’m quite a musician, adorable, and wise beyond my years and would have a relationship with me if only I were a year older. » Read more
Having safe sex with women can be pretty tricky. Oh, the condom! Why must you be so inapplicable to my efforts to sex up the ladies? Or one lady in particular. Don’t get me wrong; I am well aware of the dental dam, but still I worry. It seems patently unfair to have been born with both a penchant for oral sex and a germaphobia that borders on neurosis. » Read more
I took a short nap this afternoon during a break from work and had a dream that I was playing the piano, a piece in a minor key with lots of arpeggios and heavy on the pedal. Some of the notes were not sounding. It occurred to me as I played that they were being randomly censored. » Read more
Silence disturbs me. I grew up attached to the hip of a mother who chattered incessantly. Mostly to me, sometimes to herself, often into the phone. Dishing out the gossip while stirring a big pot of spaghetti sauce, thick links of sausage bobbing beneath the surface. When she was silent, she was sullen, moody, brooding – » Read more