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The Boar

I was recently out to a lovely dinner with beloved friends, when I learned that according to the Chinese Zodiac I am Boar. I of course read the small underlying paragraph in which this paper placemat described all of the things that are happening in my life. No joke. As I began to read my friends and I giggled and then belly laughed as it became increasingly more accurate. Below is said tiny paragraph:

Noble and chivalrous. Your friends will be lifelong, yet you are prone to marital strife. Avoid other Boars. Marry a Rabbit or a Sheep.

Let’s break this down shall we.

Noble and chivalrous…I was just complaining the other day how I am always in the role of Prince Charming; noble and chivalrous, always working hard to show the Princess how special she is. Hear me out here. I really only had 2 people in my life pursue me; MFL and this boy whose nick name in high school became nasty Nate. They initiated most things in our relationships. I really should give them kudos for the confidence as we were only teenagers at the time. However, after that, if I were to go on a date or have a relationship, it was because I made the first, second, third and fourth moves. I mean, being the fuckin feminist that I am, this has sort of been a point of pride for me. Especially when it comes to the love story of me and Mr. Ex.  I mean I wanted something; I took the chance to put myself out there and see if he might want me, he did for a while and it was wonderful. Unfortunately, a huge part of our decay was that he stopped pursuing me at all. For years. And denied me when I tried my best Prince Charming moves. Now that I am single and in the mingle, I am starting to feel like if I don’t make a move nothing will ever happen and it is exhausting. I mean just last night, watching movie on my couch with man I am seeing. We have had sex, more than once. I cuddle up to him for the whole damn movie. He told me upon arrival he had to work in morning so couldn’t stay super late. Which lead me to believe we wouldn’t actually be watching the whole movie, right?! I mean we are at least going to make out or some light petting, right?! Not one damn move. I tried every nonverbal to suggest, hey lets rub up on each other, nothing. I mean, I of course initiated some light petting before he left, but we could have done the whole damn thing and had him home and in bed by 10, had he just took a chance to kiss me, just initiate. Ugh, all I am saying is, make the damn move.    

Your friends will be lifelong…as I read this I was sitting next to one of my dearest and beloved friends. Not just a friend, a member of my chosen family. A front row friend. It took me a week to know this was a person I wanted around my life for the long haul. I am so very lucky to have been blessed with handful of these amazing women. My longest friendship has been going strong for 21 years and this particular bestie and I have been friends for 12 years. These bonds don’t break.

yet you are prone to marital strife…seeing as this is the year of the divorce for me, I would call that accurate. However, what is most interesting about this is when you put the sentence together. The reference to the friendships in the beginning implies they may be in part cause of this marital strife and for me this is somewhat true. I have always valued my friendships over almost any other relationship in my life. This has always been true with my romantic relationships. I despised when my friends would chose a boy or girl over me and their friends. I never understood it and it seemed so unnatural and illogical to me. I mean didn’t they understand romance is fleeting and friendship is forever?! Mr. Ex was very jealous of my friendships initially and it was a tough integration at first. I am actually not sure when he hit the place of acceptance that this was just the way I was wired and became grateful I had amazing taste in other humans as friends, but he did eventually. If we simply tackle the end of the sentence I do believe this will be true in the sense that I really don’t know that I want to get married ever again. I am not bitter and given up on love or anything. I just don’t know how much I believe in the Need for my love to turn into marriage. Will I Want my love to turn into marriage? Hmmm, I don’t know, jury will be out on that one for a while I think.

Avoid other Boars…Mr. Ex was also a Boar.

So the moral of the story is, the Chinese Zodiac is 100% accurate and you should all go out and figure out what animal you are. Oh and if you don’t believe me, listen to this shit…2017 is the year of the Cock who is described as eccentric and selfish. If that doesn’t describe the incoming orange dumpster fire of a human that unfortunately will be our next president, then well, I don’t know what does.

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Hey Ladies, she said awkwardly.

Ms. Can’t Do It

I am not good at dating. I have the whole have adult fun time thing down, no problems there. The element of actually wanting to spend time with someone outside of the adult fun time is not going well. Heman is turning out to be too much for me, which is hard for me to admit, but that is what I am here to do. I can intellectually recognize that it is not necessarily Heman himself, but the potential of hope for a nice human, who might want to treat me well, that he has unlocked that is the problem. Heman has jimmied loose the pain of mistreatment that I have sort of become numb, blocked out or gotten use to over so many years of being in a relationship for which I was never enough. It sucks.

I have worked very hard at my self-image over the years. The silver lining of being with someone who constantly deflects your thoughts and feelings, they force you to do a lot of self-reflection. I am lucky mine came in the form of realizing I am a wonderful mutha fuckin human being and damn capable of a whole hell of a lot all by myself! I am a strong independent woman who doesn’t need anybody to take care of her, which is why if I choose to want to incorporate someone in my life it is a big deal. This was something I tried soooo hard to show my husband, to prove he was special because by nature of me choosing to devote my life to him in the context of being my one and only romantic partner he was the most special person. I give a lot to those I love and so if I am choosing you for the most intimate of those loves you better feel fucking special. Unfortunately, he never did. This insecurity destroyed our relationship. His in ability to see me and appreciate that I worked hard at being a good partner to him and sometimes total disregard for my thoughts and feelings just became too much. His words didn’t match his actions and I couldn’t handle it. I know I am awesome and wonderful and I deserve to be with someone who also feels this way about me and therefore is motivated to treat me with kindness and respect. I do deserve that and I want it, I have always wanted it.  

Now I am not saying I want that from Heman, I seriously have known this human for 2 weeks, anyone can be a nice guy for that long and I am not ridiculous or irrational. However, it has highlighted for me that A. I still have some shit to work through before dating is truly an option and B. how fucking hard it is to date in a modern age. I am not talking about meeting people on aps, but the part once you meet someone you want to date and the texting as the fucking new mandatory means of communication. I can’t do text communication. I can barely flirt in person let alone over a fucking phone. Then do you read into the time lapses between texts, how do you put into context tone or use sarcasm? I hate hate hate it!!! I am a big communicator; I mean it is what I do for a living. I need all the non-verbal’s to help me interpret what message is being given to me and then I need to be able to use them to respond effectively. It’s too confusing otherwise. One of the other residual issues from my marriage is that I received a lot of mixed signals and these weren’t even via text. So I have found with Heman that I am really good at coming up with all sorts of bullshit that can skew perspective. So much unnecessary time, energy and anxiety spent on trying to interpret fucking texts! When the reality is you have no idea why they are doing what they are doing, texting or not texting you or what it means to them. I am not prepared for the highs and lows of hearing from someone and then not. I thought I was processing because my ex and I are getting along and I am enjoying my wonderful new life. However, part of what I have been doing to protect myself is not allowing the feelings of anger and pain to surface. I am angry that for years I was not appreciated. I am angry that for years I was told that my thoughts and feelings aren’t as important as those of my partner. I am angry that the reason I was callously disregarded by my spouse for years was because he was not processing his shit about a situation in which another man took advantage of me. Even though I begged for forgiveness and worked hard to show I had learned from what was a traumatizing situation for me. I am sad that I am 33 and never allowed myself to be treated better. I am tired and do not have the energy yet to date. Dating takes patience and the ability to give yourself gradually to someone. I am tired of giving a shit about how someone else feels about me and my default button being that is isn’t positive. So moral of the story is I got some work to do folks. I need to let this anger and sadness do its thing and then let it go. But this means more adult time fun stories to come.    

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By the power of Grey Skull

HeMan

 This piece is titled as such because folks; he, be a Man! I can confidently say this gentleman is the first real human I have met in all of my adult fun time encounters thus far. By real, I mean genuine. Not putting on a show, not a huge guard up, pretty open and easy going. Conversation comes easy when there is little pretense and it’s so nice because I love to talk. Conversation also comes easy when you have something interesting to talk about! This gentleman is world traveled, cultured, intelligent, funny and nice. All of this good stuff comes in a very, Very nice package. Tall, dark and handsome. So naturally when we hit it off so well at the bar there wasn’t a whole lot of question about whether or not I was going to bring him home. I struggled with wanting to talk more and have my mind intrigued or to just get to the good stuff. Speaking of which lets get to the good stuff.

His body is a wonderfully large and strong. Which I am favoring in my male partners more and more because I enjoy the contrast to my petite size. I have never been with anyone who was strong enough to lift, grab and flip me around, manipulating my body in various different positions that require my feet in the air. Now that I have, I just don’t know that I can give it up. It started just how it should, with kissing. Now kissing is difficult and important. I can get it in with someone who is a bad kisser, but the worse you are at kissing the stronger the likelihood that I will only get it in with you a few times. Kissing, when done well can be soooo yummy. Kissing has definitely been few hits and lots misses in my experience. So was very glad when I discovered he knew how to use his mouth. I straddled myself across his waist, took my shirt off and just sort of went to town on his face. And then my first taste of strength happened. He grabbed me by the hair, kissed me hard then wrapped his arms around me and just stood up like it was nothing. He made it seem as if I weighed no more than 10 lbs and I was digging all the alpha male taking charge shit. He just marched me into the bedroom, laid me down and promptly ripped off my leggings. There was lots more kissing and biting and hair pulling until I was having so much fun that I actually had the urge to put a dick in my mouth. Now this is kind of a big deal as I am very stingy when it comes to head. I will absolutely reciprocate when given because that is just fair, but like, rarely do I actually have the urge or desire to just for no reason other than I know dudes LOVE them, wanna do it. Lucky for me HeMan does in fact have the smallest of the dicks I have been with in my recent past. Now, it isn’t tiny by any means, but it is definitely a bit below the average I am use to. The most disappointing thing about his measurements is the girth not necessarily the length. But when it comes to blow jobs this was an ideal dick! Made it super easy and I could totally almost deep throat the whole thing, which again, is something I like NEVER even attempt. But I was feeling super generous and I wanted to give it my all. Boy did this pay off! Front, back, sideways and everything in between! I barely had to lift a finger after that magnificent bj and my pussy got all of the things and an hour and half later we both got off.    

I would like to keep writing about how I managed to maneuver my way into his bed two more times in the week since we met, but I can’t even think about it without becoming overwhelmed with the desire to fuck this guy, the sex is that great. And then there is the stamina on this horse! Just keeps going like a champ, even though he is responsible for most if not all of the heavy lifting. I usually enjoy being on top and sharing the cardio load, but not with this one. I just want him to take me and dominate until my legs become jello and I sort of melt into the bed when it’s all said and done.  

I know what you’re thinking, there has to be a catch! Why is this man still single?! Nothing can be that perfect and wonderful, can it? Well, I am here to tell you that…of course fuckin not! Nothing is perfect and this gentleman is no exception.

What is most interesting about HeMan is the struggle I have with exposing his faults. Hopefully what has come across in my previous writing is that I am pretty good at being objective. I can enjoy the company I keep, but have no dissolutions about who the other person is presenting. However, HeMan is turning out to be a challenge to this guarded and necessary objectivity. I will be completely honest in that I have become slightly infatuated with the prospect of this man. Which is why it is important for me to regain my objectivity by grounding myself in the reality that is; I don’t know that much about him other than he has fucked me in ways I have never been fucked before and I like it a lot! So let’s all come back down to reality by reviewing the struggle that is trying to causally sleep with someone, who is also a cool, fun and interesting human. It is hard because it is the first time I find myself wanting to spend time outside of the bedroom with someone. I want to experience and share things with him and it’s all too weird and making me feel insecure because it automatically takes me back to the place of worrying about what someone else thinks of me. I have been very lucky to have always had what felt like a natural protective layer to this very universal distorted thought pattern of judging oneself based on what you think other people think of you, because I generally have a pretty good opinion of myself and find if others don’t agree I just don’t give a fuck…but the one place it rears its ugly head is when I find myself romantically interested in another person. Therefore, in order to get rid of my brooding insecurity, let’s dive into his.    

The one thing HeMan does have in common with my previous sex buddies is that the inevitable veil of insecurity did rear its ugly head pretty early on. Which is insane to me! This guy is seriously all of the things and I don’t understand how one can still have the exact same insecurity as the men who clearly don’t have the societal advantages as Heman. By societal advantages I mean; HeMan is white, tall, good looking, very healthy and in shape, did I mention white and middle class upbringing? So yea, lots of advantages and fitting into positive stereotypes of someone who is desirable to others in many regards. Yet, the exact same insecurity that has befallen almost all the dudes I have encountered both in my bebop pin around and just life in general and it goes something like this…why doesn’t the world recognize how awesome I am and make it easy or fair for me to get the things that I want?! This almost always comes up in conversation in one way shape or form. The one form that I feel I have been far to exposed to is the following; I haven’t had a lot of luck with women on these dating sites. I am pretty forward about only wanting sexy adult fun times and therefore my assumption is that because of this they feel they can talk to me about dating other people because there is no prospect of actually dating me. However, I also think that it has something to do with my empathic nature. People tell me their shit all the time without regard to who I am or what role I play in their life. From total strangers to my work superiors will inevitably at some point tell me about their childhood or current trauma, issues, insecurities. It’s a thing and/or my super power, I am still holding out for the super strength or another magic power to confirm what I have always known, that I am some form of mutant super human who is meant to do great things, but for now I am just a social worker.

This is how this conversation has gone on multiple occasions:

Dude: Yeah dating sites are hard because you send women messages and they either don’t respond or they do and they aren’t who they presented in their profile.

Me: Yeah, that is how it goes; I mean you have to go through a lot of rejections or whatever to get to find someone you can connect with. At least you don’t have to go through the barrage of “I wanna fuck you” messages before getting a friendly and simple Hello instead.

Dude: Yeah, no that must suck, I have heard about how women get those messages, BUT it is harder for me because I am a man and my ego is fragile and so when I don’t get a response or the girl isn’t as attractive in person as in her photos and wastes my time meeting up, it’s hard.

Me: Yes, please, let me comfort your fragile ego because getting nothing is soooo much harder than getting objectified all of the time, totes get it, let me pat your back.

Dude: Or you meet women and all they want are materialistic things. Like if you don’t have a house w/ a mortgage and a 6 figure salary they want nothing to do with you.

Me: (dramatic eye roll) Well you must not have gone on dates with very many down to earth chicks.

Dude: No, all of them. Every time they find out I don’t have those things I will never hear from them again.

Me: Oh, I am sorry, did I miss something? Am I not here? Am I not a very attractive, very cool, fun, funny and interesting woman? Am I not very aware of the fact you don’t have “all those things” and still interested and literally sitting right in front of you ready and willing to engage in human contact with you?!

Dude: Oh, well, yeah you don’t seem to be like that.

Me: So is that not proof that it isn’t “all women” and just that you happen to have only met a few who are a certain way?

Dude: No, it happens ALL the Time.

Me: (dramatic eye roll)

OHHHHHH, that’s right, for some reason I don’t count. Wait, maybe I have the power of invisibility and I just didn’t know it, because sometimes during this conversation I feel like their eyes gloss over and they really can’t see me sitting right in front of them. 2 super powers = Super Hero! Hmmm, ok, potential invisibility aside, I have had many a lover pour out their woe as me stories of how they can’t find a genuine, nice, non-judgmental and down to earth person to connect with….when they are sitting or laying right next to me. I feel like I am evidence that these types of women exist and it is infuriating that people can be so oblivious to how, even when presented with one (me), they can’t appreciate it!!!! And how they don’t see, that just maybe, they are part of the problem. Allow me to enlighten these fuckers on how these conversations should go, because when you have the thing that you are crying about not having right in front of your face, but you can’t see it because of your blinding insecurity, you have become the problem. You don’t get to cry about not having the ice cream you want when you have a delicious ice cream sundae w/ a mutha fuckin cherry on top sitting on the table in front of you.

Dude: Yeah, dating on these websites is hard because you put yourself out there a lot and get a variety of forms of rejection in return.

Me: Yes rejection is hard, but inevitable.

Dude: that is why it has been so great to meet you. You seem cool and down to earth, you don’t seem to have a lot of pretense about the things other women I have been out with seem to be hung up on.

Me: Well thanks, I do try and live my life just being open minded and kind. Which makes it easier to see people for their strengths as opposed to sizing them up based on certain standards.

Dude: Well it has been really great, wonderful, refreshing to meet you and not get the same ole bullshit responses that I have been met with before. (leans in and show appreciation and gratitude for this awesome experience of getting what he supposedly says he wants by kissing me passionately.)

This friends, is how you lean in to a moment and recognize the thing in front of your face. You get out of the state of pity and let go of your god damn insecurity so that you can appreciate what the universe is offering you! Even if, you still believe that somehow I am a fluke, the exception not the rule, well asshole, then appreciate it while you have it because the fact of the matter is I am here right now and you have the opportunity to attempt to pursue the thing you say you have been trying to pursue and that has been alluding you for a long time apparently and now that you are presented with it all you are doing is complaining to it that it is so hard to find! Sigh.

Which leads to how this affects me, which again, is something none of these men think about. How am I supposed to feel when you describe a girl you’re looking for, that matches my description and yet I am somehow not enough to make you shut up and kiss me? What is it about me that is not good enough for you?  

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Oh, youth

Mr. 25

You know how you know when a person on an online dating website just wants sex? They put up headless photos of their body. You know how you know when a person on an online dating site is probably looking to cheat on their SI? They put up headless photos of their body. This is how I met Mr. 25. A nice set of abs with no head sent me a nice message to which I then replied and so our online exchange began.

Now, I wish I could say that I was savvy enough to have caught on to the above understanding of how to vet your online suitors prior to getting active online, but I was not. It should be noted here, that I got online solely for sex, so no judgement there. I am also not completely morally opposed to having sex with someone who is in a relationship, but there should be some nuance involved in that situation.

Now, Mr. 25 and I hashed out real quick that we were both in fact only looking for some consensual adult fun time and therefore didn’t need to court in such a way that would hopefully lead to any sort of romantic relationship. However, the fact that he is currently in a relationship came up right before he was to meet me for said consensual adult fun time. Here is our Snapchat convo….oh side bar; you know how you know someone you have met online is probably only looking for sex because they are already in a committed relationship w/someone else? They ask to use Snapchat as your dominant form of communication.

Mr. 25: Have you seen House of Cards?

Me: Most of it, why do you ask?

Mr. 25: Well you know how Claire and Spacey character have an open relationship where they do their own thing sexually? I have a girlfriend who is getting her doctorate in another city and we have this sort of arrangement. How do you feel about that?

Side bar again: now I think it is important to remember that we had already talked safe sex logistics, what we wanted to do to one another and planned to meet up prior to this little detail being shared. Context here; I was SUPER horny. The text before “Have you seen House of Cards” was “see you soon”….ok, now for my moral relativism to come into play…try not to judge to hard.

Me: Honestly, I don’t care. My philosophy is we are adults; I want to have sex with you not date you. What you do or do not tell the person you are in a relationship with is totally up to you. I have no interest in an emotional connection/relationship and want to get laid.

Mr. 25: Now that is what I want to hear! Ok, also, if you ever see me/us out in Omaha it is probably best to just not acknowledge anything. Our friends don’t know our arrangement and we want to keep it private.

Ok, I may not have been savvy to the nuance of online dating profiles, but I am not a total moron…just be honest about cheating, I already said I didn’t give a fuck and have NO interest in disrupting your relationship, but suuuuure, we will go with that story.

Me: ok dude you don’t have to worry about me J

Now that we had his “I don’t want to get caught cheating” anxiety put to ease, it was time for consensual adult fun time! Yay!!!

I will let you be the judge if the difference between 32 and 25 makes me a “cougar” (gross, I vomit in my mouth every time). I like to think that the age difference isn’t enough to constitute this horrid labeling of older sexually enthusiastic women, but I have been told it might. Here is the inner dialogue I had going to convince myself otherwise. 25 is not that young.

Unfortunately, I think the story of our adult fun time has proven my inner dialogue wrong.

What could possibly have gone wrong that would make you feel this way, you ask?! Well, I will tell you but even now as I write this I am starting to realize this may not necessarily have to do with his age, but it is the thing that makes me feel like (que vomit in mouth)…(swallow) a cougar.

Was it that he was terribly inadequate in the bedroom and showing his youth and possible lack of experience, you ask? Thankfully no! Not only was he well-endowed as self-reported, also Surprisingly, one of the few gentlemen not to practically beg me to let them send me a dick pic, (seriously dudes what is your obsession w/sending pictures of your dick? Dicks are not attractive they are simply useful) but he was fairly good at using his member.  

The thing that I will say, annoyed me, and at the time I attributed to his youth, was he would not stop blabbering about how “amazing” “wonderful” “gorgeous” and “seriously, this body, you are AMAZING” I am. Ok ok, you can all get your panties out of the twist where you think I am some asshole who can’t take a compliment. Cause I can and actually love them! However, you can twist your panties into a knot thinking I am a narcissist, cause this may be the case.

This over complimentary dialogue annoyed me because I don’t get turned on hearing about myself…oh wait! I think we just figured out, I am in fact, Not a narcissist, untwist panties please!

I mean if you want to tell me those things once or twice to make me feel good I will take it, but if you want to arouse me or keep me in a state of horny, here is a hint: tell me what you want to do with me not how you feel about me! Why did this make me feel like it had to do with his youth and therefore make me feel like a wild jungle cat…the jury is still out on that one. At the moment I am processing it as lack of experience in the communication department, I like my mind to be turned on as much as my body, I do believe this is a concept few grasp but especially young men. Also, it was weird and annoying to have someone be so grateful, like I was some sort of sex mentor who was so graciously allowing him to touch me. As opposed to, two adults who had literally texted and planned a sex date. Oh and I feel it is a good time here to mention that my online profile pics are exactly what you will get in real life. I don’t hide my face, I don’t have any naked body pics but you can see my figure. What you see is what you get with me. Which is, in my opinion, a confident, attractive, fit lady with killer hair. So all the oooing and goooing over me in person just seemed silly and made me feel old for some odd reason.  

So morally of my story, not really sure! Would I see Mr. 25 again, probs not cause, you know, he is annoying. But would I plan a sex date w/a different Mr. or Ms. 25…eh, we will see.

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That dick though

Mr. Dick Pic

Ok folks; remember when I said dicks pics were ridiculously overrated and not a turn on or attractive? Well I stand by those statements, but to every rule there is an exception. This exception for me is Mr. Dick Pic. We chatted on an app then exchanged numbers and have been exchanging some pretty great dirty texting and of course he has sent the obligatory dick pics…and videos. I can hear your thoughts now, how the hell did we get from “dick pic’s are gross” to being sent and admittedly enjoying “dick videos” ?! Well Mr. Dick Pic was actually my very first giver of the dick pic. This is how come I have since given everyone who asks to send a pic at least 1 chance. I mean A. it can’t hurt to know what you are getting into in advance if you actually desire to fuck this person in person; I like to do thorough research and B. Mr. Dick Pic’s dick pic was pretty nice. It was a very nice size, it was a normal flesh toned color, not gross and veiny and a well-manicured crop of pubes. I mean when all things considering, if you can call a penis pretty, this was a pretty dick. Then the first video came in. My thoughts pre-opening the video went as follows:

OMG what am I about to see?!

Who does this, is this normal?

It never occurred to me people sent videos!

I may be in over my head…I am still gonna watch it.

The video was nothing to dirty, just a dick and a hand calmly stroking it. My thoughts post opening the video went as follows:

Shit….

that was kinda hot.

I think I am gonna watch it again…

yea I am gonna watch it again.

My thoughts post opening the video for the second time:

Shit…

I think I like dick videos.

I am gonna masturbate while I watch this some more.

There have been more pics and a cum shot video that you would not believe how many times I have now jerked off too.

So you can imagine how excited I was when Mr. Dick Pic and I were finally able to connect for some consensual adult fun time! I was a bit nervous because you never know what the person will look like once they arrive. What if I wasn’t turned on by him in real life? However, it occurred to me that I could just close my eyes cause I think I am more attracted to the dick in the pics than the dude attached to it who I have been texting with. At this point since I had been using the images for so much of my fantasy life, it had kind of developed a personality all its own. Luckily there were no surprises looks wise once he arrived. Now, I am still not great at the whole “ending the small talk and seductively getting to the sexy foreplay” portion of such encounters. I mean the dirty shit we have texted to each other over the matter of almost a month; I should have been able to say some of that out loud right? It’s so weird how powerfully different it feels without the anonymity of the screen and I say that as someone who is pretty blessed to rarely suffer from any kind of social anxiety.

So after an incredibly unnecessary amount of chit chat he asks to use the bathroom. Which is a great break for me as it happens to be in the bedroom! No need for words when I can just be in my hot and sexy bra and panties when he comes out of the bathroom! Worked like a charm. I was in bed and being massaged all over in no time! What he lacked in personality he made up for in finesse in bed. He kissed in all the right places, was generous with his tongue and capable with his hands. That dick though! Let me tell you what, it was as good as it had been in my dreams!

I do believe I will be seeing Mr. Dick Pic again and will gladly accept more pics and videos. The other super cool thing about Mr. Dick Pic is he does not require any nudes of me in return. Now, not to say I don’t send some subtly suggestive and/or mildly provocative photos, I am not a monster. But I just don’t think vagina pics are sexy either. Vaginas are equally as awkward and weird looking as dicks, in my opinion. I also don’t own a full length mirror and Oh girl, have you ever tried getting any sexy pics at the very limited angles one can achieve when it is just you holding out your phone so that your body, but not your face, is in the picture?! It’s tough. Or at least for me and my short arms.

I have received a few exceptions to the dick pic rule since Mr. Dick Pic’s dick pic’s entered my life. However, if I am ranking all the good ones, his is still the best!

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There are no words...ok a few.

Agenda 2030 and the impending global enslavement of the human race.

Oh where to even begin w/ Mr. 2030. Well, I guess at the very beginning. I was a week into exploring my first, ok technically second, but that 48 hrs doesn’t officially count, dating app. After getting the initial barrage of creepy or idiotic messages that now seem inevitable to one’s first few days on an app; “I like your hair, damn I wanna slam you,” “I am horny as fuck,” I finally received one that indicated the person had actually read my profile. And to boot he used one of my Favorite things in the whole wide world to initiate contact; The Walking Dead. So off we go engaging in some fun online convo about all things nerd related and counter adjacent.

 As I may have mentioned, I got on this train solely for sex, but being my literal first time doing any online “dating” or “courting” or “whatever the fuck you wanna call it,” I hadn’t yet figured out any of the nuance and very honestly had no idea what I was doing. So I usually engaged in way more conversation than I now view to be necessary, but throughout this conversation, it needs to be noted here, and in particular because of Mr. 2030, that I am always upfront about Not wanting any sort of committed relationship. That will come up again later.

 So after a few days of chatting he messages me and asked if he could vent about a discussion he had w/a friend at a party. I, being in the helping professions of course said, go for it! And so he goes into what I will soon discover is a common occurrence w/Mr. 2030, a long rambly boring story that goes nowhere. He is being a bit vague and it is starting to sound like he discovered his friend was a Trump supporter.

 So I ask “OMG is your friend a Trump supporter?!” and then it happens. Those words you never want to hear when you are a super passionately political, angsty, feminist firehouse of emotions.

 “NO, I am a Trump supporter!”

 Dun. Dun. DUUUUN!

 side note here I will debate politics all day long and Trump is a horrible bigot and not capable of running our country. 

 I of course go into my usual tyraid listing off the reasons for why I believe Trump is a garbage human. He comes back at me with some shit about taxes and blah blah blah. I don't know how but we navigate this conversation in a fairly respectable way and continue chatting and agree to avoid politics. I don’t know what I was trying to prove, but I was thinking it was a good challenge to my own ego to try and get past his politics. Also, it was very clear he really had no idea what he was talking about when it came to politics…ok it was clear he was a total idiot but I was like, I am horny.

 We end up meeting for pizza and this is where I start to understand what a truly insecure and unhappy human I am dealing with. This guy talked nonstop about himself. I am not kidding, non-stop. And none of it was good or interesting. He had a lot of woe is me stories and stories that I still don't know what they had to do with anything. But, as I have mentioned, I was horny. I thought, eh, I am not looking for a boyfriend, so let’s just get him to shut up long enough for some adult fun time. So I make my move, invite him to my place for a movie. He comes over and no joke, talks about himself for another hour before I basically say let’s make out and then you can go.  

 I wasn't sure if I would talk to Mr. 2030 again, but he actually messaged me and specifically asked to talk about politics. Being one of my favorite subjects I of course oblige. This is when he drops the Agenda 2030 bomb. The Trump supporter bomb is pretty bad, but this one was 100,000 x more crazy…as if that was even possible.

I like to have informed debates and back my POV with actual facts. So I Google Agenda 2030 at his bequest.

 I will just wait for you to Google Agenda 2030. Specifically check out the Naturaljournal or some website that sounds like that….go ahead, take your time….soak it all in….

 Hopefully your mouth is agape and eye’s a bulged or you are screaming, are you fucking kidding me?! This can’t be serious?! No reasonable or rational human being would even begin to take this seriously, right?!

 Oh, Mr. Agendo 2030 truly believed this was a thing. After I take many, many, many deep breaths. I engage in the conversation.

 Me: I don’t even know where to begin.

 Him: I know, fucked up right.

 Me: It is insane….you can’t genuinely believe this?

 Him: Ok, so I don’t remember the conversation verbatim, but he goes into something about how when you really think about it, it all makes sense. The government is a corrupt fucked up institution and Trump is the candidate you should pick because he is not a part of that system. Blah, blah, blah. Some racist shit about immigration and border control.

 Me: Give me an example of your actual knowledge of government policy and what Trumps plans are for our country in that regard. Choose anything, immigration, women’s reproductive health, education, anything.

 Him: Ok ok Jenna I have no opinion, please teach me.

 Me: No, prove to me you know anything about what you are talking about.

 Him: some insecure bullshit about how he feels attacked by my texts

 Me: you still haven’t answered my question and you are just avoiding it. I then go into a rant about all kinds of policy examples and how Trump would fuck women and remind him my last name is Lopez so school him on immigration and tell him I wish him the best of luck but that I will no longer be speaking to him because we are two inherently different human beings.

 Him: Wait, what?! What do you mean, don’t do this we can still have a relationship of some kind. We don’t have to talk about politics.

 Me: Look, Mr. 2030, I am not looking for any kind of relationship other than a sex companion. I will never be attracted to you after this so, no, we can’t have any kind of relationship.

 Him: You only wanted sex?

 Me: Yes, I said that from the beginning, I said specifically I didn’t want any sort of committed relationship.

 Him: Oh, well I guess I was confused.

 What the Fuck! I mean seriously, Mr. Agenda 2030, I gave no impression that I wanted anything more than sex. You were the one who was soooo nervous and insecure, you had me practically throwing myself at you and all you did was babble on and on and on about your dumb boring life! And honestly, I owe you a thank you. I dodged a huge bullet! I think I even met the challenge I set forth for myself. I gave it an honest try to have calm and careful debate with an admitted Trump supporter and gave it everything to not judge this human solely based on that. However, Mr. 2030, you are in fact a legit crazy person who believes the UN is planning the global human enslavement of mankind…again, reader if you haven’t Googled Agenda 2030, you want to do so now so that you know I am not exaggerating here.

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[adultfuntimes-blog]

And so the debauchery begins...

I thought you were different…

Well, you thought wrong Asshole!

 You know how you know when someone you meet online is super insecure and a waste of your time? You can’t! Or at least not until you have  wasted some of your time in order to find out. However, if anyone has more insight here than I PLEASE share!

I recently met a man online and despite the minor red flag of him only having 1 profile photo, I engaged after receiving a message. And also despite the 1 minor red flag, it seemed to be going smooth and easier than some vetting I have done. I am learning to be much more direct and to the point, if that is even possible b/c I thought I was already “to direct” and not flirty enough, but online flirt and real life flirt are different…I think…let’s be real I have Never been good at the flirt. I digress, that is another post entirely.

Back to Mr. Minor Red Flag, who we will now refer to as Mr. RF for short. Mr. RF and I got straight to point of establishing this would be sexual only. We got real specific about some possible fun kink we would like to explore. He sent the now seemingly inevitable dick pic to verify to me, he does in fact have a penis, and get my approval on its image.

Which we will side bar here just for a moment: Dudes, your dicks aren’t attractive!!! I don’t need nor do I want a picture of it! I need, and very much want, you to use it properly! Size is only a problem if it is like microscopic, even then you have hands and a mouth don’t you?! I mean seriously, it is like, every time I can feel the anticipation on the other end of the dude waiting for me to say something complimentary about his ugly fucking cock. It’s so desperate and unattractive. So far, in my experience, there has only been one exception in this regard, but that is also another post entirely.

Ok, back on track. Mr. RF and I seem to be well on our way to fun consensual adult time! That is until I ask for a photo of Mr. RF from above the waste. Red flag #2 goes up. Mr. RF sends a photo of his face with this context; this is me from before I lost 28 lb.

Ok folks, let me describe the two TOTALLY different people I had now seen being advertised as Mr. RF. The original photo, I am still not even sure was a picture of him. The one and only photo on his online profile, was an average height, brown curly haired dude, albeit w/a hairline starting to recede, but big smile, looked to be having a drink at a bar. If I had to guess the weight of man in photo it was probably 160-175 and he claimed to be 38, but looked a bit younger. The before weight loss photo he now was sending was of a MUCH older guy who was wearing a ball cap and based on the cheeks was pretty overweight.

Ok, ok Mr. RF I will give benefit of doubt that you want to shock and awe me with your after weight loss photo. So I assume to take the bait and ask for a current pic, post 28 lb weight loss. Red Flag #3, he claims to “not take good photos” and attempts to talk me out of said request for one. Well now I am on high alert. Not only was he clearly not trying to wow me with a before and after photo op, he clearly is more confident in older self if that is the image he is sending me and current self is insecure in himself. Which it should be noted is mostly annoying because there was a whole conversation about confidence earlier and it being something I am looking for and turned on by. Mr. RF boasted a lot of confidence prior to being asked to acknowledge what his face looks like. To his credit Mr. RF finally does send a selfie and he is even older looking, bald (although he claims he had just shaved his head for a friend who has cancer...riiiight) and still very round cheeks, no smile.

Grrr! Now Mr. RF has put me in the awkward position of having to tell him that this face is not one that will turn me on and not say the other thing I am thinking, which is that I assume the body that goes with it probably won’t either.

Now to clarify, my opinion on Mr. RF’s looks should not mean anything other than he is not MY type. It doesn’t mean he is unattractive, ugly, fat or any of the other negative connotations that we all put on ourselves upon rejection. This is where the title of our piece comes into play. After sending the photo he immediately texts “ …….” And a further sec later “still interested???” Well dude, actually I am not and for many reasons, your looks being only 1 of those. We have reached an annoying yet, I have a feeling, all too common dilemma. How to be honest in the nicest way possible, knowing any way you slice it, rejection sucks. First, I respectfully say that it seems like his online photo is either an older one or a totally different person and unfortunately I am not attracted to the man he seems to be currently. His response is “wow, I thought you were different.”

Are you fucking kidding me dude?! Different than what? You don’t know shit about me outside of what I REALLY look like and some of the things I enjoy about sex. What about that information made you think I would be the type of person who would not care that you TOTALLY presented a VERY unrealistic picture of yourself and that when I met you in person I would just fuck you anyway?! What about that information made you think I was the type of person who would prefer an older, heavier and bald version of the person I engaged in online convo with? Not to mention the fact that YOU specifically asked in that online convo, what is your type and I said, attractive, fit and tall. Which then you claimed to be since you had recently lost a lot of weight.

I’ll tell you what I think you thought you knew about me. I think you don’t view yourself as a very good looking dude and because of this insecurity you use an old, or I still believe fake, photo to attract women you find attractive. I think we both know I am an attractive human and I think you thought you might be able to get me to meet up with you without having to reveal your face first and that this was your shot because just maybe I wouldn’t say no in person or you could “wow” me with your personality. I think I confirmed your insecurity with my rejection so you then tried to guilt me into engaging with you by saying the terrible phrase “I thought you were different than that.” Again I ask, different than what sir? An honest human being?

Again, I will reiterate that my opinion on your looks is nothing more than that. Everyone has a type, which is simply a collection of their opinions of the things in other humans that turns them on. They are usually wide in range and variety. Using myself as a frame of reference; I like men, I like women, but I like them taller than me, in good shape but no need for muscles I just like someone who takes good enough care of themselves you would say they are within an avg BMI, I like all hair and skin colors. I crave intelligence and passion. I like politics and if you can debate me without being a dick or being patronizing, that fucking turns my engine on! I could go on for another page or more about things that can turn me on, but then I would be turned on and well that makes it hard to focus. So back on message. This does not make them right or wrong or in any way a universal standard for anything. And just to clear up any confusion, I have totally been rejected, know how it feels and can empathize with that experience on many levels. I have put it out there and been turned down and every time it stings, but not in a long ass time have I taken it personally. Like I said earlier, I know I am attractive human because that is my opinion and the only one that matters in that regard. I do understand I am lucky to have been born with an a symmetrical face and fabulous hair, #blessed. This has allowed me to have been lucky to not have to struggle too hard with insecurity, despite being a woman in our body shaming, gender binary enforcing society. However, I won’t lie to you or pity fuck you in order for you to not have to deal with yours. I mean a secure confident man doesn’t use a fake or old photo, a confident man doesn’t let some random chick he just met online determine his value in any way.

And we will sum up our journey with Mr. RF with the last few texts.

Mr. RF: I have to use a fake photo online because I am married.

Me: (remember that nuance I spoke of in Mr. 25, he was not married and claimed to not be lying to his SI, not the case here) Well there is yet another detail you left out, I don’t want to get caught up in a sitch like that. Good luck.

Mr. RF: you wouldn’t get caught

I chose to not further respond as I thought the ‘Good luck’ implied I already was looking for no further response.

Get some real balls Mr. RF, if you are unhappily married fucking get divorced, if you want to get laid don’t be deceitful about what you look like cause like it or not people have types and it isn’t cool to pull a bait and switch. I mean come on dude; I thought you were different than that? J

  �SeT\���n��

[adultfuntimes-blog]

Mr. Ex

I worked really hard on my marriage. I loved my husband and still love him. I love him as I do other good men in my life, but not because I am romantically interested in him. That is what made it so difficult to leave, even though I feel like I knew this truth for a very long time. Mr. Ex is a good man and he tried to be a good husband, but he silently built a wall and kept me out. I don’t know if it’s because he didn’t know how to love me or if he fell out of love with me or what happened exactly. It was a lot of things, of course. We got married young, we grew up, we did love each other and we did hurt each other. Unfortunately, we both internalized these wrong doings differently and grew at different paces. Whereas I took on the guilt of my sins and was in a constant battle of trying to show I was a better person by working on my faults and how I could be a better partner, Mr. Ex built a wall to keep me out and at times punish me. My breaking point was when he told me he did not want to go to therapy but rather read a book on infidelity that suggested we recount, in great detail, what I had done with a boy 12 years prior, from an era in which we had been dating for two years. What the fuck? The fact that he was still upset about this situation from 12 fucking years ago was a huge curve ball.

We were married 3 years after this happened. We got married in the Church. Therefore we had to do the Engaged Encounter retreat weekend. As corny as it sounds, they do make you discuss some very good and necessary things about yourselves, your relationship and what you want for your future. I had been working really hard to atone over those 3 years, but I had to ask out loud one final time.

Me: I want to talk about That Guy and how you feel about it now. I don’t want to get married if you feel we haven’t worked through issues of trust and forgiveness with this part of our past.

Mr. Ex: I know it is still hard for me when I am reminded of it. When I see a guy with a beard it still makes me feel anger. It felt like a trauma so I feel like it’s just going to be a trigger, but I do forgive you. I have worked on forgiving you and trusting that you love me and I know that you do. I want to marry you and I want you to know I forgive you.

Me: I am so grateful for that. I love you so much and I don’t want to make any excuses for the past, but I have been working really hard to try and show you that it was a mistake and I would never want to risk our relationship and I want you to trust me because you are the only one I love.

I don’t know about you, but that conversation would lead me to believe that he had forgiven me for this “trauma.” Let’s talk about this “trauma” he speaks of. When I was 20 and at the height of my alcoholism which meant I drank 5 of the 7 days a week, heavily, blacked out a lot. I met a group of other 18, 19, 20 year olds, including That Guy, who liked to party hard. That Guy was my weed dealer. It was obvious from the gate he was a flirtatious dude looking to get laid. He definitely came onto me and for a while I maintained my boundaries. However, I did make out with him on a few occasions. There were 2 occasions in which I partied, blacked out and spent the night at the party house. On both of these occasions I was asked;

That Guy’s Friend: Do you remember what happened last night?  

Me: Uhh, not everything, I was fucked up. I passed out kind of early.

That Guy’s Friend: You don’t remember you and That Guy?

Me: No, what? What do you mean?

That Guy’s Friend: Oh man, if you don’t remember but you guys were all over each other he was on top of you in my back seat when we were driving around.

Me: What? We were driving around?! I honestly don’t remember that at all.

That Guy’s Friend: Laugh’s hysterically, Oh man!

The other conversation was similar. One night, when I was blacked out in my room, Mr. Ex went through my diary and read a page where I had written the sentence “That Guy is hot, I would fuck him.” Among a bunch of other sentences that were not about That Guy, but just other random thoughts and feelings. Mr. Ex confronted me and said he knew because of this I was having an affair with That Guy. I had admittedly drunkenly, but consciously, made out with That Guy and been told while blacked out I had sex with That Guy, so clearly he was right. I admitted my sins of infidelity and I began my repentance.

Let’s recap folks, in case you missed it, I blamed myself for my own sexual assault because I was drunk and since I previously showed interest, clearly I had it coming. I believed this shit for years. Ridiculous I know. Luckily for me, I have had good therapists and realized that it wasn’t my fucking fault. I am not a horrible cheating woman who spurned her lover. I was young and broken and unhealthy to say the least. To think, 12 years later, the man I devoted my life to, was still hung up on this situation, still calling it “his trauma.” I knew there was nothing I could ever do to get him to understand, the wall I had felt I had been bashing my head into for the past 7 years was real and he built it with a little internal dialogue that went something like this:

Mr. Ex: I just realized that I have had this inner dialogue that would pop up whenever you would come to me with your emotions or how you were feeling about something in our relationship, I would just think “what the fuck does she have to complain about, remember how she cheated on you.” And I would just get mad and ignore you.

When I heard this, there were no words. I was literally speechless because I couldn’t process what was being told to me. It seemed unfathomable to me. I knew he had some sort of grudge or disregard for me and I was always trying to figure out what it was that I was doing that created this and had made it continue to strengthen over the years. I never would have guessed this was what it was all about. That was the moment I knew I was going to leave him.  

I wanted my marriage to work. I wanted to be with a partner for life. I wanted this man to love me and feel loved by me, but love is fucking complicated. We don’t have enough words that describe the complexity that is the act of loving. In fact, we don’t even agree if love is in fact an action, something you choose to actively engage in or a feeling that takes over and is somewhat out of your control. As in all things, it is probably a little bit of both. For me and Mr. Ex it has once again takin on a new form. I love Mr. Ex, but I am gonna love me just a little bit more from here on out.

[adultfuntimes-blog]

Single Bi Female

Hello there! Thanks for stopping by. Welcome to Adult Fun Time! I am a 30 something single, Caucasian, bisexual, cis female…damn that is a mouthful. It’s been a crazy cool, bizarre, wonderful, scary and sometimes mind blowing ride these past 30ish years. I have been through a lot of pretty big life changes lately and needed a place to process it all. So I turned to my old standby coping tool for managing the complexity that is the human brain, journaling. I have always been a “writing of my feelings” type person, diaries with the cute little locks on them in elementary school, more sophisticated black and white composition notebooks in jr. high and the piece de resistance; a journal made of beautifully woven coral thread with gold accents and beads on the cover and all the hormonal raging of my high school years. As I began writing about my now adult experiences, I have found that they are infinitely more interesting, but ironically, just as hilarious as those adolescent rantings. Then it occurred to me that I should not keep these thrills all to myself, so here we are.

Now, one key factor in making this a good and enjoyable experience for everyone involved, which should always be a cornerstone for any adult fun times, is that readers need to understand 1 very important thing; I write like I talk. Period. End of story. Soooo, if you are a grammar enthusiast, if punctuation is incredibly important to you, I want to be super up front so you can make a fully informed decision. I do not know shit about writing, grammar, punctuation. I am not in this to learn how to do or be better at these things. I am writing this solely for my own enjoyment and fun. I am fine, if only my friends, who I make, read this blog read this blog. Therefore, if reading something with these glaring flaws is too difficult for you, if these are the flaws that send you into a rage when you find them in other materials you read, this is probably not something you will enjoy. I understand, no judgement, those things are important….just not to me.

However, if you think you can get past it and want to give it a go, I like to believe you will have a good time. In order for this to happen though, you need to know how I talk. Which is going to be difficult considering this isn’t a podcast…why not do a podcast you might be thinking. Well, I tend to talk really fast and I feel like I sound like a small child voice tone wise, so I would just prefer to write my shit down. SO (the use of capital letters indicates an increase in volume of voice, fyi.), I think the best way to help is to start by writing a brief summary of my past. Hopefully through telling a bit of my story I can give you enough to be able to “put yourself in my shoes” as they say and set the tone for where I am coming from with the musings of my life in the present.  

I have always thought my birth story was pretty magical. I am adopted, that is the magical part or at least in my mind as a child. I believed for a long time that it made me special and unique compared to everyone else and their lame-O birth parents. I was born to an amazing young girl who had the strength and fortitude to make an adoption plan in the 1980’s when 100% closed adoption was the only option and it was still very taboo. Being a beautiful white baby I was prime pickens and was adopted by my wonderful and amazing parents 10 days after I was born. Being that adoption was a very expensive option, (white privilege moment number 2) realistically mostly affluent white folk were adopting. So my parents came with a good solid financial stability that has benefited me my whole life. I mean I am talking, went to private schools my whole educational career with exception of my Master’s degree and I have never paid a student loan because I never took out any. So yeah, lots and lots of awesome benefits of the privilege. I was incredibly lucky that my best friend from 4-13 years old was another adoptee and there were a few others in my very tiny school. So, all the forces combined during my childhood to help me build a nice strong base for my ego and foundation for a positive self-image. The only time this confidence faltered even a bit, was when we would do Family Tree projects, I remember some comments about not “really being my parents kid.” Ummm, what does that mean? They feed me, clothe me, make me do chores, sure feels like I am really there kid, but people are dumb. Moral of this chapter, I had a happy childhood and lots to be grateful for. One thing to know about me is I practice gratitude hard, I don’t fuck around. I respect and will never forget what I have been given in this life, call them blessings, call it luck or call it fate, I don’t care, but be sure to take the time to give thanks for it.

6th grade was when things started to get weird and I started to think maybe there was a little something off about me. Here seems like a good time to explain that I went to Catholic school in a small town, in an even smaller church community, you can imagine this type of bubble. I point this out to explain the exact version of indoctrination I received regarding the ideas and concepts of relationships, sexuality, and love.

To review; Catholics believe any kind of sex is shameful unless it is sex for procreation and therefore teach you that you wait for marriage and you must marry for life. Clearly this is the nutshell version of their dogmatic teachings, but don’t be fooled, I know my Catholic theology. I literally studied it in an academic setting from 5-22 yr old. I was taught by nuns and Jesuits. I also participated as an actual true believing devoted Catholic from baptism to about 14. I faked it for the family until 24. My biggest beef with the Catholics isn’t even the ridiculous traditions, stance on LGBTQ+ humans, or rampant pedophilia (ok this one might be the biggest, but it’s sort of related to what I am about to rant about.) it is the blatant hypocrisy!!!!!! Almost of all the adults and now some of my childhood friend’s, lean right in their politics, view the poor as moochers and criticize people who don’t align with their “moral code,” SO much judgement on everyone and everything they do. Then they act like this real life behavior somehow has nothing to do with their religion. As I write this I realize this hypocrisy isn’t unique to the Catholics, but they are the ones who fucked me up so they get all my rage. I had Catholic teaching drilled into me and there were all these concepts of God is love, God gave us free will the greatest gift of all and Jesus came in to give the message of love thy neighbor no matter what because God is love. But the older I got the more it was painfully obvious no one lived this. I believe it is because the older you get the more you start to learn about the rules. Over the years the Church created Dogmas of judgement about everything. Here is why you can’t love this group or if you do this thing you are bad and at a certain point we will use our judgement to inhibit your ability to use your free will. So gays are deviants and inherently sinful if they choose to love who they want, sex is SHAMEFUL and BAD unless you are making a baby, if your marriage fails you are a failure and its cause God said so. Well muther fuckers, God did NOT say that! Catholics, you taught me that free will is the greatest gift God gave us (it makes us better than all the other species remember?!) and only God can take it with death. You also taught me that God told us our job is to love one another NO MATTER WHAT and treat others as you want to be treated. Well I tell you what; I like to be treated pretty damn good, but at minimum with kindness. I believe that by treating others with kindness and love we all will be more likely to make good and healthy choices, but you don’t get to judge or take away their choices. The morals and values I was taught were important as a child, I am mocked for living out as an adult, its super fucking annoying. Ok rant on Catholics over….for now.

Back to 6th grade and things getting weird. I had “boyfriends” in grade school, the type were you are playing out what you think adults do and adults get into couples so you and your guy buddy write notes and talk on the phone at night. Adorable or gross? But then one day in 6th grade a crew of super smart kids from the rival Catholic elementary school were shipped over to our school for a few hours to get the specialized math instruction my school offered. They would all sit at a table in the back of my classroom. There were all boys except for one. Her name was My First Love or MFL for short from here on out. It hit me so hard. I could not stop looking at her. She was so pretty and smart and totally confident around that table of boys. I knew she played basketball, because everyone knew she played basketball because she was that good. I was so distracted and rarely learned the afternoons that the math kids were there. I never got a chance to really talk to her, but I thought about all kinds of things I would say. Now I hadn’t realized then that what was happening was that I was attracted to her, I just assumed I admired her because she was so cool, someone I wanted to be. Then Jr. High happened. Although there were two Catholic Elementary schools there was only one Jr. High. Actually, our Jr. High and High school were all in the same building 7-12th grade, 200 students. Early on in the 7th grade, our first Social Studies project was to create a diorama of some event from the state history book. It was a team project and the teacher assigned us our partners.

Teacher: MFL, you are going to be partnered with Single Bi Female (SBF for short)

Me: (Oh My God! I got MFL, ok ok go talk to her) Heeey, so what do you wanna do?

MFL: Let’s look through the book and pick one each and then decide.

Me: Ok sounds good. (She is so pretty and smells nice. Her hair is so gorgeous…oh shit, I need to pick something, what page is it on?! Ahh don’t look stupid.)

MFL: Where do you live? We will probably want to get together after school at least once.

Me: (heart pumping weirdly, literally never felt this kind of reaction in my body, so nervous) Oh I live at this address.

MFL: oh wow, I actually just live a block away from you at this address.

Me: (think my heart might explode it starts pumping so hard and so fast and I get this weird rush of adrenaline, talking super fast) Oh wow, that is so crazy! We could just walk to each others houses in like 2 minutes! Do you want to come over today?

MFL: (Cool Calm and Collected) That is crazy, who knew we lived so close all this time, I have to talk to my mom but I will call you, what is your phone number?

Me: (WHAAAAAAAAAATTT) Oh yeah my number is 1236549870.

MFL did in fact come over to my house. I talked a mile a minute because I could not stop myself. To this day when I am anxious the best and most relieving thing I can do is verbalize it. I am much more controlled and tactful now, but I still have to say it aloud. Then I just rambled on and on and on because I didn’t know what all this energy was and or what else to do with it. MFL was so cool, she was so sweet and nice too. I could tell she was being nice to me even though I was kind of coming off as a total weirdo. She laughed at me and we talked for hours. Even after the wonderful wonderful social studies project, MFL continued to want to hang out with me!!! She had me over to her house and her family was so wonderful, chaotic and fun. She clearly loved them and their closeness was contagious. I felt so welcome. It was not long before we were daily figures at each other’s homes. We became inseparable. Then in 8th grade, MFL, the purest most devout of Catholic I knew, came onto me. I will never forget it and how totally natural and wonderful it felt. I never felt the shame I would inevitable feel later on as an adult. I mean we had always cuddled, who didn’t cuddle when they had a sleep over? Ok, so she was the only one I cuddled with, but for some reason that never seemed abnormal. Then one night, as we were finally hitting the hay, I was little spoon and felt her hand reach under my shirt and lay across my bare stomach. I didn’t move, but I did open my eyes. Her hand gently stroked my abdomen as I wondered with nervous energy what was going to happen next. She whispered in my ear;

MFL: is this ok?

Me: Yes

MFL: She proceeded to move her hands over my torso and she asked, Can I kiss you?

Me: Yes

We made out and it was so beautiful and exciting and safe and perfect. I had never been kissed and if this is what it was like, I really wanted more of it. I will not give away the intimate details of my memories with MFL. They are mine and mine alone, but if you keep reading I do promise to give lots of sexy details about every other character in my story. MFL is special and she was never out. I am the only one who knows she was probably a Lesbian or maybe Bisexual like me, but no one else knew the whole time we were “together.” See, we both lived a very complex double life. Whenever I think of it now, it seems sooo crazy. We created this little world of our own where we could be totally ourselves and it felt safe and it felt “normal.” We talked about our hopes and dreams of who and what we wanted to become. No one else existed in this world and only there did I ever feel whole, until now. By day, we were good Catholic school girls who were best friends and dated boys. In our world we talked about how much we loved each other because we could just be ourselves with no fear of judgement or shame. In our world we felt the freedom to talk honestly about not wanting what others had planned for us and feeling like the things we were being raised to believe did not make sense and what giant hypocrites so many of the adults in our lives were turning out to be. And one day in our Jr. Year of high school, we were sitting in the hall against some lockers. MFL was writing her Valedictorian speech for fun, she had a very healthy ego. We had met with a college Rep from Colorado that day.

MFL: What do you think about going to Colorado?

Me: I would love it, I love Colorado, the scenery alone would make it worth it, but it’s expensive.

MFL: What if we went? I mean think about what our lives would be like if it was just you and me, we didn’t know anyone else and we could do whatever we wanted.

Me: That would be awesome; I can’t wait to get away from living in a bubble where everyone knows everything about everyone. I want to be able to try new things without it being everyone’s business.

MFL: I wouldn’t have to play basketball. I don’t want to be a student athlete in college. I am over it and doing what my dad wants me to do.

Me: yeah dude, if you play basketball in college that is like all you will do.

MFL: and I want to be with you.

Me: What? Of course, we are going to be roommates at college together that is another reason you can’t play basketball, I am not going to some small town community college.

MFL: No, I mean, like I want to be with you, we could be open with people we didn’t know. We wouldn’t have to worry about what people thought.

Me: I would love that and I do love Colorado.

I reach over to hold her hand. This is the only time she let me show affection in a public space and only because no one was around.

MFL: Ok let’s fill out the Colorado applications.

It was a few weeks after this beautiful moment that MFL died in a car wreck. It is my most vivid and traumatizing memory. To be clear, I was not in the wreck. MFL and our friend were on a double date with some potential dudes for prom, car slid, hit pole, MFL was DOA. Thankfully everyone else survived. Except for a tiny part of my soul that died that day and that little dead spot started to infect my heart. For a long time I was fucked up from this event. Mainly because it took me a loooooooong time to grieve. I mean truly grieve the loss of My First Love. Because you have to be able to tell people that it’s not your best friend who died it is your first love that died. The first person who made me feel all of the feels, the first person to show me unconditional love and no other person has ever made me feel as special. I grieved my best friend for a long time locking my love for her away like a dirty little secret. Then I went to college and started building my chosen family. The people who to this day love me dearly and I was finally able to say out loud to another human, My First Love died in a car wreck when I was in high school and it was really fucking awful.

I did go off to college somewhere far away and by myself so that I could be free to be who I wanted to be without judgement. I no longer cared about the judgement of people I would meet, you would take me or you could leave me, but I was going to do my best to be my authentic self regardless of what anyone thought. However, to do this I would need to know who my authentic self was. That is pretty fucking hard to do when you have been living in a weird religious bubble all your life. I didn’t even hear the term Bisexual til college, let alone accept that I was one. I have always been genuinely attracted to and do like men and therefore had honestly never considered myself a lesbian. This lead me to conclude for a bit that MFL was just a fluke a very special situation that was unique and one of a kind. However, trying to deny my genuine attraction to women became more and more difficult. Add on top of that the depression, drinking and lots and lots of self-loathing and needless to say my plans to be my authentic self got derailed from time to time.

I did manage to maintain a very long term relationship with a really wonderful man, who I married very young. I did get a bachelors and master’s degree, built a great career and gave birth to an amazing little human. Shortly after the little human arrived, and they tell you this may happen, but you sort of get focused on the fact that your life is going to end. This really sparks some introspection on whether you are truly happy and living the life you wanted for yourself. I got sober and three years later realized I was not living my life. I was living a combination of ideas and goals that I thought were necessary because a lot of important people in my life had in one way or another told me there was a grand plan; high school diploma, college, family then happiness. I was fulfilling “the grand plan” but hadn’t stopped to ask myself, whose grand plan is this? I was not happy or experiencing personal satisfaction or contentment like I had been lead to believe I would by the creators of this particular grand plan.

I started conceptualizing what my life could be like if I made choices based on the things I truly wanted, that were nowhere found in the grand plan. I went to therapy and worked on my marriage and tried everything to find this contentment in my life, but I couldn’t because no matter what I did I couldn’t change the fact that I was not in love with my husband and our relationship had reached and unchangeable breaking point. I decided to initiate the divorce and moved out. I found my adorable little apartment in the city, close to my friends and started over and it was scary as fuck.

But I am fucking loving it!!! That brings us into the moment. I have been writing about my interesting new experiences in dating, sex and all things life transition related. And now I will begin to share them with whoever will read them. I hope by now you have some sense of who I am and where I am coming from. In case you still do not, I am fucking cool. I am a super non-judgmental human who’s got her shit together. I am kind, caring, friendly and fun. I am a successful professional and now I am learning how to be a successful person. I am finally living the life I am supposed to. It has been the hardest and best thing I have done, maybe ever. So come along for the ride! Why the hell not?!