I need to help my youngest sister understand that she's skinny, not obese. I need to make both sisters understand why using the words 'retarded' and 'gay' are hurtful and shouldn't be used as alternatives for rubbish, stupid, etc. I need to make my parents realise that skinniness has nothing to do with how healthy or fit a person is, and that it has no bearing how 'good' they are as people. I need to somehow stop them being so shallow, homophobic, racist, sexist, and understand that someone having different viewpoints or a different religion doesn't make someone any 'worse' than them, that all people are equal, and that they shouldn't look down on other people for not being the same as them.
I can't fix everything, why is there so much to deal with?!
Sunday, 30 December 2012
I don't know what to do about this
My youngest sister, who's 14, is obsessed with being 'skinny'. She's a gymnast, is super fit and very athletic. She's skipping breakfast and sometimes other meals. She's been going on about losing the 'fat' which she apparently has on her stomach. She has a flat stomach, and a normal, healthy amount of fat which insulates her, yet today she declared herself to be 'practically obese'.
My mum and dad ignored this, haven't said anything to the contrary, and my dad's even been giving her tips on how to lose weight and which exercises will work out which bits of the body. I tried saying that she was being obsessive about this, and dad just said 'I don't think she is'. Well, that's that sorted then, conversation closed! If dad thinks it's fine then it's obviously healthy!
It makes me want to cry, it really does. Julia seems to be heading dangerously close to the anorexic mindset and no one in my family is doing anything to prevent this, or to tell her that no, she's not obese, she's actually skinny already.
My parents have always had an obsession about fat, having repeatedly told me and Julia that we're fat and need to lose weight, commented on how much we've eaten, etc etc. I was worried about their attitudes about fat when Julia was 12 and they kept telling her she was fat, and told them it'd lead to an eating disorder. Well done parents, thanks a lot for proving me right.
Why does no one understand how damaging this could be? I just want to cry!
My mum and dad ignored this, haven't said anything to the contrary, and my dad's even been giving her tips on how to lose weight and which exercises will work out which bits of the body. I tried saying that she was being obsessive about this, and dad just said 'I don't think she is'. Well, that's that sorted then, conversation closed! If dad thinks it's fine then it's obviously healthy!
It makes me want to cry, it really does. Julia seems to be heading dangerously close to the anorexic mindset and no one in my family is doing anything to prevent this, or to tell her that no, she's not obese, she's actually skinny already.
My parents have always had an obsession about fat, having repeatedly told me and Julia that we're fat and need to lose weight, commented on how much we've eaten, etc etc. I was worried about their attitudes about fat when Julia was 12 and they kept telling her she was fat, and told them it'd lead to an eating disorder. Well done parents, thanks a lot for proving me right.
Why does no one understand how damaging this could be? I just want to cry!
Saturday, 29 December 2012
"Man Up"
So, something's pissed me off today. First of all, my little sister, Julia, has damaged her knee, and has been told to avoid exercise for about 6 weeks while it heals. While we're all on holiday, skiing, tobogganing, ice skating, rock climbing, etc. It really is quite unfair on her. Naturally, she's feeling a bit pissed off because of this - bored, left out, and really wanting to take part.
This evening she asked if she could come tobogganing with us tomorrow, as she wanted to join in and have fun and see her friends. My parents said that it'd probably be bad for her knee, because she'd have to use her feet for braking and steering. Julia said it wouldn't that it'd be fine, etc etc. This went back and forth a few times and got a bit heated. Whenever Julia said she'd be fine, my dad just told her to stop being so 'stupid'. She told him she wasn't being stupid, she just really wanted to go sledging, and he kept countering with saying how 'stupid' she was. She, obviously hurt, started crying, and my dad told her to just 'man up'.
When she told him that that was a horribly sexist remark, he told her not to be stupid, and that it was just a saying.
Later on, he came into the room where I was sat with Julia, and said that he was 'sorry if he hurt her feelings, and that he hadn't meant to.' Hadn't meant to? Really? Why would you insult someone if you had no intention of hurting their feelings?! Also he said he was sorry IF he hurt her feelings, not that he had said what he had.
Ok, on to the whole "man up" thing. This makes me so angry, along with his insistence that he is never ever sexist, homophobic, racist, etc etc. But that could fill about a thousand posts.
The reason "man up" is sexist is in the words - MAN up. Why not woman up? Because women are not considered as good as men. It's not considered a good thing to be a woman. To be a "real man" (emotionless, strong, decisive, uncaring, controlled by their genitals) is considered the thing everyone should be, or aspire to be. To care about others, communicate, think things through, show empathy or any other emotion are seen as female attributes, and weak, and less desirable. By telling someone to 'man up', you are saying that you see being a woman as something less than being a man. That's it's undesirable to be seen as female, that you see men as better. That's sexism if ever I saw it.
It's the same as "don't be such a girl", calling someone a "big girl's blouse" etc. If I try to pick my dad up on these things when he says them, I'm told I'm being ridiculous, over-reacting, etc etc - all the standard things misogynists say when confronted with their own sexism.
This evening she asked if she could come tobogganing with us tomorrow, as she wanted to join in and have fun and see her friends. My parents said that it'd probably be bad for her knee, because she'd have to use her feet for braking and steering. Julia said it wouldn't that it'd be fine, etc etc. This went back and forth a few times and got a bit heated. Whenever Julia said she'd be fine, my dad just told her to stop being so 'stupid'. She told him she wasn't being stupid, she just really wanted to go sledging, and he kept countering with saying how 'stupid' she was. She, obviously hurt, started crying, and my dad told her to just 'man up'.
When she told him that that was a horribly sexist remark, he told her not to be stupid, and that it was just a saying.
Later on, he came into the room where I was sat with Julia, and said that he was 'sorry if he hurt her feelings, and that he hadn't meant to.' Hadn't meant to? Really? Why would you insult someone if you had no intention of hurting their feelings?! Also he said he was sorry IF he hurt her feelings, not that he had said what he had.
Ok, on to the whole "man up" thing. This makes me so angry, along with his insistence that he is never ever sexist, homophobic, racist, etc etc. But that could fill about a thousand posts.
The reason "man up" is sexist is in the words - MAN up. Why not woman up? Because women are not considered as good as men. It's not considered a good thing to be a woman. To be a "real man" (emotionless, strong, decisive, uncaring, controlled by their genitals) is considered the thing everyone should be, or aspire to be. To care about others, communicate, think things through, show empathy or any other emotion are seen as female attributes, and weak, and less desirable. By telling someone to 'man up', you are saying that you see being a woman as something less than being a man. That's it's undesirable to be seen as female, that you see men as better. That's sexism if ever I saw it.
It's the same as "don't be such a girl", calling someone a "big girl's blouse" etc. If I try to pick my dad up on these things when he says them, I'm told I'm being ridiculous, over-reacting, etc etc - all the standard things misogynists say when confronted with their own sexism.
Friday, 14 December 2012
Some bad days.
TW: depression, suicidal ideation
I had a seriously bad day today.Yesterday I'd been feeling low and down all day, but unable to vocalise any of it. I was at Azariah's house and really didn't want to leave. He was needing some space and time to himself, and all I wanted was for him to pay attention to me and cuddle me. I felt a bit left out and like I was getting in the way, and guilty for that, but couldn't express any of these feelings. Finally Azariah told me that I needed to go, as I had a doctor's appointment to get to and the roads were icy. In my low state, this sounded to me like him telling me to leave because he didn't want me around. The thoughts in my brain went a bit crazy, telling me how selfish I'd been for not giving him some space, how useless, worthless and pathetic he was and how he didn't even like me any more because I'd annoyed him.
I drove away, and started crying my eyes out. After a while I realised I wasn't even really able to see the road clearly anymore because of the crying. I tried to calm myself down, and managed for maybe a minute, but during that time all I could think about was accelerating really hard into a tree or ditch or off the road. I realised I wasn't in a safe state of mind to drive, and pulled over. I started composing a text to Azariah about the feelings I hadn't been able to vocalise (but was somehow now perfectly able to understand and write down in a text) and received a call from him asking where I was. He told me to stay where I was and drove to collect me. I hadn't asked him to, I hadn't told him I'd pulled over or was feeling this bad, he just knew.
He was going to take me back in his car, but I didn't like the idea of leaving my car at the side of the road, so instead he drove in front of me very carefully and slowly until we got back to his house. The thoughts were still there, but now that Azariah was in front of me I thought that I couldn't kill myself because he'd see and it'd traumatise him, or maybe make him feel it was his fault, or think badly of me. God that sounds so selfish.
When we got back I showed him the text I'd been composing, and he reasured me about all the silly things I'd been thinking. He said that after I'd gone he'd realised that I'd been reluctant to go despite him having said he needed some time to himself, and then knew that I was in a worse way than I'd been letting on. He held me asked me what I needed, or what he could do to help me or to take my mind off things.
He set me up playing a computer game to take my mind off things, while he had some time to himself playing on his Xbox.
I don't know whether he told his parents why I was staying an extra night, but they didn't mention anything about it. He took me along with him to Judo so I could talk to some people and socialise a little, which did help somewhat, and then I felt exhausted and went to bed.
This morning I felt that same wave of depression starting, and basically curled up on the sofa all morning. Moving, talking and eating were out of the question. Azariah's mum offered me a drink, and I managed to ask for tea. She asked if I was ok, and I said I just felt down, so she offered me sugar in my tea (which I never normally have, but really helps when I feel crap). I was so touched that she just accepted this and didn't judge, and that I could be myself here without any pressure or judgement. It's ok to be having a crap day for no reason. I don't have to wear a mask. It made me want to cry with happiness that people could accept me like this, and cry inside with sadness that my own parents wouldn’t understand.
This morning I wrote a facebook status saying I was having a bad day. I just wanted to let friends know that I needed support, and maybe seeing people would be useful. Friends as always were lovely, but later I saw someone else's status about having read someone's "depressing, attention-seeking status" and wanting to just tell them what a "special snowflake" they are. I don't know if the person in question was talking about me (though I suspect they might have been - that may however be the silly depressed brain talking) but the idea that someone reaching out and asking for help makes you react in that way and then respond with a passive-aggressive statement of your own (which they can obviously see) just makes me angry. If you don't want to offer someone support then don't, but then talking about how they just want attention and praise when it might genuinely be a cry for help seems cruel.
So yeah. Now I'm pissed off too. Argh.
I had a seriously bad day today.Yesterday I'd been feeling low and down all day, but unable to vocalise any of it. I was at Azariah's house and really didn't want to leave. He was needing some space and time to himself, and all I wanted was for him to pay attention to me and cuddle me. I felt a bit left out and like I was getting in the way, and guilty for that, but couldn't express any of these feelings. Finally Azariah told me that I needed to go, as I had a doctor's appointment to get to and the roads were icy. In my low state, this sounded to me like him telling me to leave because he didn't want me around. The thoughts in my brain went a bit crazy, telling me how selfish I'd been for not giving him some space, how useless, worthless and pathetic he was and how he didn't even like me any more because I'd annoyed him.
I drove away, and started crying my eyes out. After a while I realised I wasn't even really able to see the road clearly anymore because of the crying. I tried to calm myself down, and managed for maybe a minute, but during that time all I could think about was accelerating really hard into a tree or ditch or off the road. I realised I wasn't in a safe state of mind to drive, and pulled over. I started composing a text to Azariah about the feelings I hadn't been able to vocalise (but was somehow now perfectly able to understand and write down in a text) and received a call from him asking where I was. He told me to stay where I was and drove to collect me. I hadn't asked him to, I hadn't told him I'd pulled over or was feeling this bad, he just knew.
He was going to take me back in his car, but I didn't like the idea of leaving my car at the side of the road, so instead he drove in front of me very carefully and slowly until we got back to his house. The thoughts were still there, but now that Azariah was in front of me I thought that I couldn't kill myself because he'd see and it'd traumatise him, or maybe make him feel it was his fault, or think badly of me. God that sounds so selfish.
When we got back I showed him the text I'd been composing, and he reasured me about all the silly things I'd been thinking. He said that after I'd gone he'd realised that I'd been reluctant to go despite him having said he needed some time to himself, and then knew that I was in a worse way than I'd been letting on. He held me asked me what I needed, or what he could do to help me or to take my mind off things.
He set me up playing a computer game to take my mind off things, while he had some time to himself playing on his Xbox.
I don't know whether he told his parents why I was staying an extra night, but they didn't mention anything about it. He took me along with him to Judo so I could talk to some people and socialise a little, which did help somewhat, and then I felt exhausted and went to bed.
This morning I felt that same wave of depression starting, and basically curled up on the sofa all morning. Moving, talking and eating were out of the question. Azariah's mum offered me a drink, and I managed to ask for tea. She asked if I was ok, and I said I just felt down, so she offered me sugar in my tea (which I never normally have, but really helps when I feel crap). I was so touched that she just accepted this and didn't judge, and that I could be myself here without any pressure or judgement. It's ok to be having a crap day for no reason. I don't have to wear a mask. It made me want to cry with happiness that people could accept me like this, and cry inside with sadness that my own parents wouldn’t understand.
This morning I wrote a facebook status saying I was having a bad day. I just wanted to let friends know that I needed support, and maybe seeing people would be useful. Friends as always were lovely, but later I saw someone else's status about having read someone's "depressing, attention-seeking status" and wanting to just tell them what a "special snowflake" they are. I don't know if the person in question was talking about me (though I suspect they might have been - that may however be the silly depressed brain talking) but the idea that someone reaching out and asking for help makes you react in that way and then respond with a passive-aggressive statement of your own (which they can obviously see) just makes me angry. If you don't want to offer someone support then don't, but then talking about how they just want attention and praise when it might genuinely be a cry for help seems cruel.
So yeah. Now I'm pissed off too. Argh.
Tuesday, 11 December 2012
Fun with wax!
I know this one's a bit blurry, but others had faces in or were rather more explicit. Oddly enough I hadn't really done waxplay before. Turns out it's awesome and I like it! Azariah seemed to have fun too... =P
Wednesday, 21 November 2012
Language
Azariah did what I could never do - he stood up to my parents in a discussion of freedom of speech or words which didn't use to be insults, but now can be used as such. My parents were saying that those who'd grown up in a different generation weren't to blame for saying things that could be considered homophobic or racist, because words have changed their meanings, so it's not their fault and they don't mean anything by it.
Azariah stated that those who considered themselves intelligent should educate themselves on the fluctuating nature of language, or else avoid talking about those topics which could be considered inflammatory.
I was so grateful to him! It's a small start, but my parents have always vehemently refuted the idea that they're homophobic, because my dad 'knew some gay people at school'. The fact that he referred to a gay person last night as 'a gay' had me biting my tongue. I wouldn't say 'I was talking to a straight yesterday...' I'd say 'I was talking to a person', or if their sexual orientation was a point that needed mentioning, I'd say 'I was talking to someone/a person who's straight'...
They just don't seem to be able to see the dehumanisation that their language creates - talking about someone as 'a gay' removes from being a person, distancing yourself from them so that it's easier to cast judgements and insult.
Overall, last night was very tame with regards to conflict or inflammatory remarks because there were guests round, and my parents always do everything to appear open and accepting when in company, but there are always little things I notice that slip through the net.
Azariah stated that those who considered themselves intelligent should educate themselves on the fluctuating nature of language, or else avoid talking about those topics which could be considered inflammatory.
I was so grateful to him! It's a small start, but my parents have always vehemently refuted the idea that they're homophobic, because my dad 'knew some gay people at school'. The fact that he referred to a gay person last night as 'a gay' had me biting my tongue. I wouldn't say 'I was talking to a straight yesterday...' I'd say 'I was talking to a person', or if their sexual orientation was a point that needed mentioning, I'd say 'I was talking to someone/a person who's straight'...
They just don't seem to be able to see the dehumanisation that their language creates - talking about someone as 'a gay' removes from being a person, distancing yourself from them so that it's easier to cast judgements and insult.
Overall, last night was very tame with regards to conflict or inflammatory remarks because there were guests round, and my parents always do everything to appear open and accepting when in company, but there are always little things I notice that slip through the net.
Monday, 19 November 2012
When you think about it, it's pretty creepy...
What's annoying me recently is people's attitudes about body hair on women. For those who don't know, I just leave mine alone. The argument for women shaving or getting rid of it in some way seems either to be that it seems more hygienic or 'cleaner'. I don't understand why anyone would think this! Pubic hair especially, performs a function similar to the cilia in the nose and eyelashes - it prevents dirt and other particles from entering the body, helping to prevent against infection.
The act of shaving, waxing, or any other form of hair removal removes this protective barrier, leaving you more open to infections. Shaving especially, leaves the skin with tiny cuts all over, which makes it even more likely to become sore or infected. Along with the higher chance of things like ingrown hairs from hair removal, this doesn't exactly help the case for 'hygeine' as the reason we perform these tasks. (Also there's a thing called washing, which you can do no matter how much hair you have...)
Pubic hair is also a signifier to others that you have gone through puberty and are physically mature enough to engage in intercourse and to carry a child. (This has nothing to do with emotional maturity though.) It helps in releasing pheremones which are attractive to mates.
Originally the removal of pubic hair started off in porn in order to get better camera angles and a better view of what was happening. It was something very different and 'out there', which no one in society actually did, it was purely in porn, but has gradually infiltrated society's conciousness as something which is 'natural' and all women should look like.
Leg hair - well it's there to keep us warm when we're cold, and cool us down when we're hot. Underarm hair helps in cooling us down, and also in releasing pheremones.
Removing all of our body hair can not only actualy increase the chances of infection, but also removes the signifiers that we are past puberty. This is similar to the way that wearing high heels imitates the way we look as we're going through puberty - our limbs are longer in comparison to the rest of our bodies, which is a visual signal that we are on our way to physical maturity. It's this infantilisation which unnerves me. Our whole society seems to encourage the idea that women should appear pre-pubescent. Even our language echoes this - while the term 'boy' refers to children, or as a putdown to those considered inferior, women are referred to as girls throughout their lives: grown women engage in 'girl talk', go round to visit the girls, and are encouraged through this language and pressure to conform to pre-pubescent body images, to remain childlike. The implication here is that they are immature, without power, and therefore less than men.
The idea that women are only sexually appealing when they look like children, well that's just damn creepy.
The act of shaving, waxing, or any other form of hair removal removes this protective barrier, leaving you more open to infections. Shaving especially, leaves the skin with tiny cuts all over, which makes it even more likely to become sore or infected. Along with the higher chance of things like ingrown hairs from hair removal, this doesn't exactly help the case for 'hygeine' as the reason we perform these tasks. (Also there's a thing called washing, which you can do no matter how much hair you have...)
Pubic hair is also a signifier to others that you have gone through puberty and are physically mature enough to engage in intercourse and to carry a child. (This has nothing to do with emotional maturity though.) It helps in releasing pheremones which are attractive to mates.
Originally the removal of pubic hair started off in porn in order to get better camera angles and a better view of what was happening. It was something very different and 'out there', which no one in society actually did, it was purely in porn, but has gradually infiltrated society's conciousness as something which is 'natural' and all women should look like.
Leg hair - well it's there to keep us warm when we're cold, and cool us down when we're hot. Underarm hair helps in cooling us down, and also in releasing pheremones.
Removing all of our body hair can not only actualy increase the chances of infection, but also removes the signifiers that we are past puberty. This is similar to the way that wearing high heels imitates the way we look as we're going through puberty - our limbs are longer in comparison to the rest of our bodies, which is a visual signal that we are on our way to physical maturity. It's this infantilisation which unnerves me. Our whole society seems to encourage the idea that women should appear pre-pubescent. Even our language echoes this - while the term 'boy' refers to children, or as a putdown to those considered inferior, women are referred to as girls throughout their lives: grown women engage in 'girl talk', go round to visit the girls, and are encouraged through this language and pressure to conform to pre-pubescent body images, to remain childlike. The implication here is that they are immature, without power, and therefore less than men.
The idea that women are only sexually appealing when they look like children, well that's just damn creepy.
Sunday, 18 November 2012
Does this make me a bad person?
Ok, so I know lots of kinky folk, and the questions that seems to pop up with all of them at some point in their journey of self-discovery, is 'Why do I like this? Am I normal? Am I unhealthy for liking this? What if the reason I like this is rooted in something crazy, sick or makes me a bad person?'
And you know what? I think if you didn't ask yourself those questions at some point, then there might be something to worry about. If you like hurting people, or being hurt, it's normal to ask yourself if it's ok.
I asked myself those questions when I was first starting out, and after thinking up lots of 'reasons' why I might like what I like. I finally came to the conclusion that as long as it's not causing me or my partners any harm, and we're both enjoying it, then it doesn't matter where my kinks stem from. It doesn't have to come from a place of purity etc to be ok, as long as it doesn't harm you.
So I guess I just want to say, to all those people who are questioning why they enjoy something, breathe. It's ok. That fact that you're worrying about it is good, and shows you're a decent person. And as long as you're not harming yourself or your partner (and btw there's a difference between hurt and harm) then you don't need to worry. You and your partner's enjoyment is what matters.
And you know what? I think if you didn't ask yourself those questions at some point, then there might be something to worry about. If you like hurting people, or being hurt, it's normal to ask yourself if it's ok.
I asked myself those questions when I was first starting out, and after thinking up lots of 'reasons' why I might like what I like. I finally came to the conclusion that as long as it's not causing me or my partners any harm, and we're both enjoying it, then it doesn't matter where my kinks stem from. It doesn't have to come from a place of purity etc to be ok, as long as it doesn't harm you.
So I guess I just want to say, to all those people who are questioning why they enjoy something, breathe. It's ok. That fact that you're worrying about it is good, and shows you're a decent person. And as long as you're not harming yourself or your partner (and btw there's a difference between hurt and harm) then you don't need to worry. You and your partner's enjoyment is what matters.
Guys should talk about sex more. No seriously...
So, women had this whole 'sexual liberation' thing - we have shops like Ann Summers everywhere convincing us that sex is ok, that we're allowed to be horny, and even to pleasure ourselves. That masturbation is ok, & there are even toys to help us make it feel even better. Yes, a lot of it is packaged up in a "it's sexy for the men if you do it in front of them", and there's still a huge amount of pressure from society telling us completely the opposite - that it's wrong, shameful, that women aren't sexual creatures, that women don't feel horny but it's ok for men to be turned on, etc etc.
But for the most part, the idea that women can and do use sex toys is accepted in a fair amount of society, even if it's still not something that some people want to admit.
But for males? When you talk about men using sex toys, people tend to thing of them as weird, freaks, perverts, creepy, or desperate. You don't hear men talking about an amazing new sex toy they've found that they love, or even acknowledging the existence of masturbatory aids apart from their own hands. Guys in general don't discuss intimate details of their sex lives with their friends beyond a 'yeah, we had sex and it was hot' type conversation, and it's such a shame! Despite all of the ways society tries to control and repress women's sexuality, it's at least accepted that we talk about it, and discuss intimate details and share tips with each other - hell, there've been entire TV series' dedicated to just this premise!
There are so many negative ways that women's sexuality is controlled, but beyond the idea that men are permanently turned on sex-machines that would have sex with anything, to the point that they can't even control their own desires enough not to rape someone if they're attractive/wearing certain clothes etc, there is no discussion about men's sexuality. It's kept under wraps, as something that is so over-sexualised, but never mentioned as more than a fact that they're turned on all the time, or masturbate frequently.
I'd love men to start talking more openly about their sex lives - about what works for them and doesn't, about things they enjoy, about sex toys they like. I think it'd make people more aware that male sexuality isn't a 'one size fits all' thing - every one is different, everyone has different turn-ons. There's no Cosmo-type solution of 'how to turn your man on' or 'how to make him orgasm'. You need to discuss and find out how to help this particular man achieve orgasm, or to enjoy a sexual experience. What works for one person is completely different to what works for another.
I remember one of the first times I had my hands on a guy's cock. I'd read in Cosmo that a thing that all men liked was having their balls played with. So I moved my hands to his balls to play with them. He didn't tell me that that didn't work for him, or that he'd prefer me to touch him somewhere else, he just moved my hands. And being young and not realising that he hadn't liked it, I moved them back, thinking 'why would he move my hands away from there? Men like that!' Ok, so part of this was my youth and complete lack of reading this body language as a 'actually I don't want your hands there', but also the complete lack of communication, because 'men don't talk about sex'.
So guys, if you find something that seems 'abnormal' that turns you on, talk about it! Silence around sex can lead to all sorts of assumptions about what's 'normal', which are really unhelpful. I'm pretty sure you'll find that it's a lot more normal than you thought it was.
And hell, if you find a sex toy that just makes your toes curl and turns your legs to jelly when you use it, just use it! The idea that using it makes you creepy or desperate or perverted is outdated, and is only denying you pleasure!
But for the most part, the idea that women can and do use sex toys is accepted in a fair amount of society, even if it's still not something that some people want to admit.
But for males? When you talk about men using sex toys, people tend to thing of them as weird, freaks, perverts, creepy, or desperate. You don't hear men talking about an amazing new sex toy they've found that they love, or even acknowledging the existence of masturbatory aids apart from their own hands. Guys in general don't discuss intimate details of their sex lives with their friends beyond a 'yeah, we had sex and it was hot' type conversation, and it's such a shame! Despite all of the ways society tries to control and repress women's sexuality, it's at least accepted that we talk about it, and discuss intimate details and share tips with each other - hell, there've been entire TV series' dedicated to just this premise!
There are so many negative ways that women's sexuality is controlled, but beyond the idea that men are permanently turned on sex-machines that would have sex with anything, to the point that they can't even control their own desires enough not to rape someone if they're attractive/wearing certain clothes etc, there is no discussion about men's sexuality. It's kept under wraps, as something that is so over-sexualised, but never mentioned as more than a fact that they're turned on all the time, or masturbate frequently.
I'd love men to start talking more openly about their sex lives - about what works for them and doesn't, about things they enjoy, about sex toys they like. I think it'd make people more aware that male sexuality isn't a 'one size fits all' thing - every one is different, everyone has different turn-ons. There's no Cosmo-type solution of 'how to turn your man on' or 'how to make him orgasm'. You need to discuss and find out how to help this particular man achieve orgasm, or to enjoy a sexual experience. What works for one person is completely different to what works for another.
I remember one of the first times I had my hands on a guy's cock. I'd read in Cosmo that a thing that all men liked was having their balls played with. So I moved my hands to his balls to play with them. He didn't tell me that that didn't work for him, or that he'd prefer me to touch him somewhere else, he just moved my hands. And being young and not realising that he hadn't liked it, I moved them back, thinking 'why would he move my hands away from there? Men like that!' Ok, so part of this was my youth and complete lack of reading this body language as a 'actually I don't want your hands there', but also the complete lack of communication, because 'men don't talk about sex'.
So guys, if you find something that seems 'abnormal' that turns you on, talk about it! Silence around sex can lead to all sorts of assumptions about what's 'normal', which are really unhelpful. I'm pretty sure you'll find that it's a lot more normal than you thought it was.
And hell, if you find a sex toy that just makes your toes curl and turns your legs to jelly when you use it, just use it! The idea that using it makes you creepy or desperate or perverted is outdated, and is only denying you pleasure!
Tuesday, 13 November 2012
A rather fun evening =P
If you don't want to read about hot guy-on guy action, three-way kisses and generally hot, yummy stuff, don't read this post!
Last night was fucking hot. =P
Azariah and I went over to a friend of mine's house. Hmm, he can be called Isaac. He cooked us dinner, we chatted and drank wine, and played around a little bit with kink stuff. Azariah and I both switch, but Isaac is a Dom. We played around with knives, and there was some wrestling, hair-pulling, neck-biting and laughing. At one point Isaac put a knife up to Azariah's throat (which really turns him on) and got so close to his lips that Azariah was whimpering and straining to kiss him, but Isaac just turned and walked away, leaving him very frustrated. He told me later that he really wanted to kiss Isaac, because he hadn't been allowed to, and that was mean! =P
I told Isaac this later on, and he said that he'd see what happened...
Around midnight, and we all headed up to bed, as Isaac had to get up at 6am for work. We all lay there, limbs draped over each other in a sleepy, warm, haze, all snuggled up to each other. As we lay there, me in the middle, and Isaac and Azariah either side of me, they started stroking and scratching each others' backs. I was slowly drifting to sleep listening to their little intakes of breath, gasps and moans as they played with each other. I turned onto my back and watched them both, gently scratching both of them while they whimpered and groaned in pleasure.
Isaac grabbed Azariah's head and pulled him close and they started making out on top of me. The little moans and whimpers coming from Azariah (who'd wanted to kiss Isaac all night since the playing with knives had happened) were soo hot and watching the two of them together made me so wet!
There was hair-pulling, neck-biting, and lots and lots of yummyness as the two of them made out over me, right in front of my face. Then they moved closer to me, and all three of us were kissing, our tongues mingling in each others' mouth, not always quite sure whose was whose. It was amazing =P
It got to the point where I had no idea whose limbs were whose as everyone was stroking, scratching and generally doing very yummy things to each other =P
Gradually the attention turned to me, as I'd been in the middle just watching (quite contentedly!) for a little while. Isaac and Azariah were both sucking on my nipples, playing with my breasts, biting my neck and running their hands up and down my body. I had hands and tongues, lips, teeth and nails all over my body, sending shivers and tingles of pleasure through me, and two hot guys making out and turning each other on above me - it was a rather exquisite form of torture, which went on for quite a long time. =P They teased me mercilessly and were very mean - they got me desperately turned on, until I finally said "can't we all just fuck, please?" Isaac laughed, and said no, because he had to get up early, and it'd give us something to look forward to for next time, which I thought was very unfair! This went on for quite a long time... not that I'm complaining! ;)
Finally we all decided we were actually tired now, and were really going to sleep this time. I got up out of bed to go to the bathroom and almost fell over because my legs were so shaky! I could barely stand up, but managed to get there using the wall to keep me upright. I overheard the two of them talking about me, sharing little tricks they knew to turn me on or make certain reactions happen.
When I came back, Azariah was cuddled up to Isaac in the most adorable way ever, so I tucked myself in behind him and we gradually drifted off to sleep, contented, and with warm limbs draped over each other.
Early in the morning I heard Isaac get up to leave for work. I got out of bed and stretched, and went to use the bathroom. When I returned, I got a long lingering kiss from Isaac to say goodbye. I crawled back into bed behind Azariah, and Isaac went around the other side and gave him a goodbye kiss as well. After he'd left, Azariah turned to me sleepily, and said happily, "I got a kiss!" He seemed so pleased with himself, it was adorable!
I gave him a kiss, and we snuggled up and went back to sleep until a more reasonable time in the morning.
Last night was fucking hot. =P
Azariah and I went over to a friend of mine's house. Hmm, he can be called Isaac. He cooked us dinner, we chatted and drank wine, and played around a little bit with kink stuff. Azariah and I both switch, but Isaac is a Dom. We played around with knives, and there was some wrestling, hair-pulling, neck-biting and laughing. At one point Isaac put a knife up to Azariah's throat (which really turns him on) and got so close to his lips that Azariah was whimpering and straining to kiss him, but Isaac just turned and walked away, leaving him very frustrated. He told me later that he really wanted to kiss Isaac, because he hadn't been allowed to, and that was mean! =P
I told Isaac this later on, and he said that he'd see what happened...
Around midnight, and we all headed up to bed, as Isaac had to get up at 6am for work. We all lay there, limbs draped over each other in a sleepy, warm, haze, all snuggled up to each other. As we lay there, me in the middle, and Isaac and Azariah either side of me, they started stroking and scratching each others' backs. I was slowly drifting to sleep listening to their little intakes of breath, gasps and moans as they played with each other. I turned onto my back and watched them both, gently scratching both of them while they whimpered and groaned in pleasure.
Isaac grabbed Azariah's head and pulled him close and they started making out on top of me. The little moans and whimpers coming from Azariah (who'd wanted to kiss Isaac all night since the playing with knives had happened) were soo hot and watching the two of them together made me so wet!
There was hair-pulling, neck-biting, and lots and lots of yummyness as the two of them made out over me, right in front of my face. Then they moved closer to me, and all three of us were kissing, our tongues mingling in each others' mouth, not always quite sure whose was whose. It was amazing =P
It got to the point where I had no idea whose limbs were whose as everyone was stroking, scratching and generally doing very yummy things to each other =P
Gradually the attention turned to me, as I'd been in the middle just watching (quite contentedly!) for a little while. Isaac and Azariah were both sucking on my nipples, playing with my breasts, biting my neck and running their hands up and down my body. I had hands and tongues, lips, teeth and nails all over my body, sending shivers and tingles of pleasure through me, and two hot guys making out and turning each other on above me - it was a rather exquisite form of torture, which went on for quite a long time. =P They teased me mercilessly and were very mean - they got me desperately turned on, until I finally said "can't we all just fuck, please?" Isaac laughed, and said no, because he had to get up early, and it'd give us something to look forward to for next time, which I thought was very unfair! This went on for quite a long time... not that I'm complaining! ;)
Finally we all decided we were actually tired now, and were really going to sleep this time. I got up out of bed to go to the bathroom and almost fell over because my legs were so shaky! I could barely stand up, but managed to get there using the wall to keep me upright. I overheard the two of them talking about me, sharing little tricks they knew to turn me on or make certain reactions happen.
When I came back, Azariah was cuddled up to Isaac in the most adorable way ever, so I tucked myself in behind him and we gradually drifted off to sleep, contented, and with warm limbs draped over each other.
Early in the morning I heard Isaac get up to leave for work. I got out of bed and stretched, and went to use the bathroom. When I returned, I got a long lingering kiss from Isaac to say goodbye. I crawled back into bed behind Azariah, and Isaac went around the other side and gave him a goodbye kiss as well. After he'd left, Azariah turned to me sleepily, and said happily, "I got a kiss!" He seemed so pleased with himself, it was adorable!
I gave him a kiss, and we snuggled up and went back to sleep until a more reasonable time in the morning.
Recovery
Y'know what? I'm starting to enjoy life again! Slowly but surely, things seem to be starting to get better! =D I don't know if this is because the depression is lifting, or the tablets are starting to kick in, or just that I've spent time with people I love doing things that make me happy, but either way, I've enjoyed the last couple of days =)
Yes there are still times when I feel the black cloud coming down and I just want to curl up and cry, but it's not as severe as it has been in the past, and doesn't seem to last as long. I realise that there will be really tough times while I'm getting better where it feels like I'm getting worse again, but that's just the way the progress goes. Today at least, I feel good, and hopefully on my bad days I can look back at this and remember that overall, things are improving. =)
Looking hopefully towards a happier future =)
Yes there are still times when I feel the black cloud coming down and I just want to curl up and cry, but it's not as severe as it has been in the past, and doesn't seem to last as long. I realise that there will be really tough times while I'm getting better where it feels like I'm getting worse again, but that's just the way the progress goes. Today at least, I feel good, and hopefully on my bad days I can look back at this and remember that overall, things are improving. =)
Looking hopefully towards a happier future =)
Sunday, 11 November 2012
Love is not an obligation
Love shouldn't be something you give to someone only to get something back. I hate it when people say 'I love you' to me, and are obviously expecting me to say it back, because they said it. That's not how love works. When I tell someone I love them, that's all it mean.
"It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I’ve seen your kindness and your strength. I’ve seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You’re a hell of a person." - Joss Whedon
And that doesn't mean that you need to love me. You shouldn't need to feel awkward if you don't. If I tell you I love you, just smile, or say thank you, or just carry on chatting about something else. I won't feel awkward.
I realise I've been guilty of this in the past. Occasionally I've said "I love you" and waited to hear those words in response. I'm sorry to the people I've done this to, for making them feel awkward, or possibly pressured into saying something they didn't feel like saying at the time.
When I tell Azariah I love him, a lot of the time he just smiles and says 'I know', and I like that. I'd like to feel more comfortable doing that myself as well.
I don't necessarily just mean romantic love either. I love a lot of my friends, but I know some people might find it awkward or confused if I told them this. In this society, people don't generally tell their friends that they love them, except in that drunken 'I love you guys!' sort of way.
Well I met a wonderful girl in hospital. We only knew each other for a few days, but we went through a lot together, and as we'd both been through similar situations with our depression we bonded quite quickly. When I left, we hugged a lot, and kissed on the lips, and I can honestly say that I love her. I have seen her at her weakest moments, and seen her strength and kindness. But I didn't feel that I could tell her I loved her in case it made her uncomfortable.
I wish love between friends were less taboo.
"It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I’ve seen your kindness and your strength. I’ve seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You’re a hell of a person." - Joss Whedon
And that doesn't mean that you need to love me. You shouldn't need to feel awkward if you don't. If I tell you I love you, just smile, or say thank you, or just carry on chatting about something else. I won't feel awkward.
I realise I've been guilty of this in the past. Occasionally I've said "I love you" and waited to hear those words in response. I'm sorry to the people I've done this to, for making them feel awkward, or possibly pressured into saying something they didn't feel like saying at the time.
When I tell Azariah I love him, a lot of the time he just smiles and says 'I know', and I like that. I'd like to feel more comfortable doing that myself as well.
I don't necessarily just mean romantic love either. I love a lot of my friends, but I know some people might find it awkward or confused if I told them this. In this society, people don't generally tell their friends that they love them, except in that drunken 'I love you guys!' sort of way.
Well I met a wonderful girl in hospital. We only knew each other for a few days, but we went through a lot together, and as we'd both been through similar situations with our depression we bonded quite quickly. When I left, we hugged a lot, and kissed on the lips, and I can honestly say that I love her. I have seen her at her weakest moments, and seen her strength and kindness. But I didn't feel that I could tell her I loved her in case it made her uncomfortable.
I wish love between friends were less taboo.
Friday, 19 October 2012
Logic vs Emotions
So I'm going into hospital for a couple of weeks.
I had a really bad week last week in terms of depression, and went to the Doctor to ask about changing my tablets. The thing is, because of the dosage I'm on and the way the drugs work, I'd first need to lower my dosage on my current pills, leave it for a few days to allow my brain to settle to that, then add the new drugs, then leave it a few days, then get rid of the current ones completely.
All of this could play havoc with my mind and potentially make me worse while my brain and body gets used to the new medication, so I'm going to go into hospital for a couple of weeks while they do this. This will allow them to monitor my progress, keep a close eye on any weird side effects and generally just keep me safe from my crazy brain while it's going a bit loopy.
Logically I know that this is good news - I'll be well looked after, won't need to do anything, and it should help speed up my recovery in the long term as I'll be able to have counselling almost every day rather than once a week, and should be on drugs better suited to my brain.
Emotionally, I'm a bit scared. I'm worried that being in hospital on my own will make me feel lonely and therefore more down. When I'm feeling down I forget that I have friends who wouldn't mind coming to see me. I get into a 'who would want to be with me when I'm like this?' state of mind.
I'm also worried about getting behind with uni work. It'd mean missing a couple of lectures, and though I've tried telling myself that I could do work while I'm in hospital, I'm doubt I'll be able to in the state I'll be in. I'm not able to cope with it now, on a relatively 'good' day. I really hope the new tablets help, because if I carry on like this I'm not sure I'll be able to finish my course, and I really want to be able to! Also my parents paid for it, and I'd feel terrible for wasting their money if I had to drop out.
Also, probably stupidly, I'm worried what people will think. There's still rather a big stigma around mental health, and it's really not all that understood. I'm worried that people will look down on me, or see me as something less because I can't cope with life. I guess I'm still struggling to acknowledge that this is an illness rather than me being pathetic and stupid and unable to cope with everyday life like 'normal' people. I don't want people to see me as 'that person who had to admit herself because she couldn't look after herself'.
I'm just scared generally. I don't want to lose friends, I don't want to be judged, and I don't want to have to stop my course, but at the moment it's looking like I might have to.
What I'm most scared of though, is that I'm losing a sense of myself. I feel like I'm losing who I am. Like in some of my more depressed states, I have no feelings, no emotions, no thoughts anymore. That I'm just this shell that looks like a person with nothing inside.
No matter how many times people tell me that of course they won't lose interest, I can't quite make myself believe it. I still have a little voice saying 'but who'd want to be friends with you when you're like this?' After all, no one would want to be friends with someone with no personality, right?
I had a really bad week last week in terms of depression, and went to the Doctor to ask about changing my tablets. The thing is, because of the dosage I'm on and the way the drugs work, I'd first need to lower my dosage on my current pills, leave it for a few days to allow my brain to settle to that, then add the new drugs, then leave it a few days, then get rid of the current ones completely.
All of this could play havoc with my mind and potentially make me worse while my brain and body gets used to the new medication, so I'm going to go into hospital for a couple of weeks while they do this. This will allow them to monitor my progress, keep a close eye on any weird side effects and generally just keep me safe from my crazy brain while it's going a bit loopy.
Logically I know that this is good news - I'll be well looked after, won't need to do anything, and it should help speed up my recovery in the long term as I'll be able to have counselling almost every day rather than once a week, and should be on drugs better suited to my brain.
Emotionally, I'm a bit scared. I'm worried that being in hospital on my own will make me feel lonely and therefore more down. When I'm feeling down I forget that I have friends who wouldn't mind coming to see me. I get into a 'who would want to be with me when I'm like this?' state of mind.
I'm also worried about getting behind with uni work. It'd mean missing a couple of lectures, and though I've tried telling myself that I could do work while I'm in hospital, I'm doubt I'll be able to in the state I'll be in. I'm not able to cope with it now, on a relatively 'good' day. I really hope the new tablets help, because if I carry on like this I'm not sure I'll be able to finish my course, and I really want to be able to! Also my parents paid for it, and I'd feel terrible for wasting their money if I had to drop out.
Also, probably stupidly, I'm worried what people will think. There's still rather a big stigma around mental health, and it's really not all that understood. I'm worried that people will look down on me, or see me as something less because I can't cope with life. I guess I'm still struggling to acknowledge that this is an illness rather than me being pathetic and stupid and unable to cope with everyday life like 'normal' people. I don't want people to see me as 'that person who had to admit herself because she couldn't look after herself'.
I'm just scared generally. I don't want to lose friends, I don't want to be judged, and I don't want to have to stop my course, but at the moment it's looking like I might have to.
What I'm most scared of though, is that I'm losing a sense of myself. I feel like I'm losing who I am. Like in some of my more depressed states, I have no feelings, no emotions, no thoughts anymore. That I'm just this shell that looks like a person with nothing inside.
No matter how many times people tell me that of course they won't lose interest, I can't quite make myself believe it. I still have a little voice saying 'but who'd want to be friends with you when you're like this?' After all, no one would want to be friends with someone with no personality, right?
Doing away with labels
In the past I’ve defined myself as heteroflexible, bisexual, and
pansexual, but none of them ever really seemed right. They didn't fit properly. None of them
seemed quite ‘me’.
I’ve also definied as polyamorous. I certainly agree with the notion that love shouldn’t be restricted to one person in your life, and am happy when a partner talks about their crushes. But I don’t feel ‘polyamorous’. No, I’m definitely not monogamous. At the moment I’m only in a romantic relationship with Azariah. I’m not looking for anything else, but am not closed to the possibilty of finding someone I click with for any sort of relationship. I also really hope Azariah gets together with someone else he’s been crushing on for a while - it'd be so cute.
So I’m doing away with labels. I’m not polyamorous, or bisexual, or pansexual, or heteroflexible. I’m me.
I’ve also definied as polyamorous. I certainly agree with the notion that love shouldn’t be restricted to one person in your life, and am happy when a partner talks about their crushes. But I don’t feel ‘polyamorous’. No, I’m definitely not monogamous. At the moment I’m only in a romantic relationship with Azariah. I’m not looking for anything else, but am not closed to the possibilty of finding someone I click with for any sort of relationship. I also really hope Azariah gets together with someone else he’s been crushing on for a while - it'd be so cute.
So I’m doing away with labels. I’m not polyamorous, or bisexual, or pansexual, or heteroflexible. I’m me.
Wednesday, 10 October 2012
Cold toes and procrastination
I can't find my fluffy slippers. My toes are cold.
Also I know I'm meant to be doing work but in fact I'm messing about on facebook, tumblr, emails and blogspot trying to pretend that because I'm on the computer it's sort of like working... *ahem* I mean, I have to do typing for uni, and I'm typing now - just not quite the same things. But it's halfway there, right? =P
Also I know I'm meant to be doing work but in fact I'm messing about on facebook, tumblr, emails and blogspot trying to pretend that because I'm on the computer it's sort of like working... *ahem* I mean, I have to do typing for uni, and I'm typing now - just not quite the same things. But it's halfway there, right? =P
Monday, 8 October 2012
Terror
Trigger warning: self harm
I want to slice deep into my forearm and watch the blood seeping out. I want to watch the life force drain away until there's nothing left. I want to stab and slash and slice and cut myself up. Dear god I need help.
These thoughts keep going round and round my head and I'm fucking terrified. I have people coming round to look after me. Thank god for friends.
Sunday, 7 October 2012
Pathetic.
What the fuck is wrong with me? I mean seriously, I've just been sat on my computer looking at tumblr and facebook, and then suddenly these deep gut-wrenching sobs came out! Now I keep crying intermittently every minute or so, and I have no reason why! I feel so pathetic and stupid - there are people far worse off than me and I'm sat here pathetically bawling my eyes out for no apparent reason. I just can't cope anymore. I want a hug. I want the world to just go away for a bit. I want to be asleep so I don't have to deal with this. I want cuddles, I want to be left alone. I want to cry my eyes out, yet I feel so pathetic and stupid when I do. I don't know what I want. I don't know what's wrong with me. Fuck you depression, I hate you. I just want to cry.
Friday, 5 October 2012
No internet but some kinky fun =)
I've been without internet for aaaages! I moved into my new house on 1st September, and it's not being installed until the end of October! I'm having to use my phone for everything, which is a little frustrating!
Yesterday I did some life modelling for an art tutor who wanted to build up his portfolio of charcoal drawings. Last time I modelled for him we chatted and I mentioned the fetish society at Uni which I used to run, so this time he asked if I could bring a few kinky things for him to draw to make the pictures a little bit different. It was quite fun and actually rather relaxing. After tying my own legs together with a corset tie, I just sat still for 25 minutes letting my mind wander and thinking about all sorts of things. We did 4 other poses - some with bodage tape, some with heels and a corset, some with a collar and lead, and some with a gag. Most of them (even the positions that were difficult to hold) allowed me to just let my mind drift, only concentrating on keeping my body in the same position.
We did this for 2 hours, until I had to go home.
Later I headed to the first fetish society meeting of term. I wasn't sure about going last night, but I ended up having lots of fun.
Because I already had a lot of my gear in my car I took it inside with me and laid it out for people to look at and try out. I taught a few people how to do basic rope ties, and 2 people asked if I could use my crop on them to see what it felt like. I gave them a gentle warm-up, checking how it felt for them the whole time and gradually increasing the force (and part way through the first person I realised we hadn't exchanged names, so I said 'oh, by the way, my name's Electra...' and he laughed and told me his name too).
After the cropping, I asked a friend of mine if he'd tie me up in some way that was secure and restrictive, which was exactly what I got.
He secured my right arm under my left breast, my left arm down by my hip, and then secured them both in tightly with a chest harness, pulling the rope tightly with each new wrap. He then sat me on a chair and placed a rope gently around the front of my neck. As we chatted he gently pulled on the rope, dragging it across the front of my throat, making my head go all floaty. He carried on doing this, pulling it tight and letting it loosen up, dragging it across my throat, each movement making it harder to concentrate on what I was saying and making me feel light-headed and floaty and happy.
He also teased me by tilting my chair backwards which made me panic and squirm but being unable to do anything about it. By the end of the session I was so floaty and spacey I was unable to speak - nodding and giving a thumbs up was about all I could manage.
It's a while since I've been in subspace like that, it was wonderful, and made me very happy, although I forgot what it did to me and in that state wasn't able to communicate with him that everything was fine (apart from grinning inanely and nodding when he asked me).
Depending on what sort of play I've done, sometimes I want to be left alone, sometimes I want cuddles and chocolate, and sometimes I want a blanket or just to curl up for a bit. Once I'm in that space though it's very difficult to actually tell people any of this. So the negotiating of safewords, what we wanted to do etc was all fine and responsible, I just need to remember to tell people what I get like if I'm spacey and that me not speaking is ok!
Yesterday I did some life modelling for an art tutor who wanted to build up his portfolio of charcoal drawings. Last time I modelled for him we chatted and I mentioned the fetish society at Uni which I used to run, so this time he asked if I could bring a few kinky things for him to draw to make the pictures a little bit different. It was quite fun and actually rather relaxing. After tying my own legs together with a corset tie, I just sat still for 25 minutes letting my mind wander and thinking about all sorts of things. We did 4 other poses - some with bodage tape, some with heels and a corset, some with a collar and lead, and some with a gag. Most of them (even the positions that were difficult to hold) allowed me to just let my mind drift, only concentrating on keeping my body in the same position.
We did this for 2 hours, until I had to go home.
Later I headed to the first fetish society meeting of term. I wasn't sure about going last night, but I ended up having lots of fun.
Because I already had a lot of my gear in my car I took it inside with me and laid it out for people to look at and try out. I taught a few people how to do basic rope ties, and 2 people asked if I could use my crop on them to see what it felt like. I gave them a gentle warm-up, checking how it felt for them the whole time and gradually increasing the force (and part way through the first person I realised we hadn't exchanged names, so I said 'oh, by the way, my name's Electra...' and he laughed and told me his name too).
After the cropping, I asked a friend of mine if he'd tie me up in some way that was secure and restrictive, which was exactly what I got.
He secured my right arm under my left breast, my left arm down by my hip, and then secured them both in tightly with a chest harness, pulling the rope tightly with each new wrap. He then sat me on a chair and placed a rope gently around the front of my neck. As we chatted he gently pulled on the rope, dragging it across the front of my throat, making my head go all floaty. He carried on doing this, pulling it tight and letting it loosen up, dragging it across my throat, each movement making it harder to concentrate on what I was saying and making me feel light-headed and floaty and happy.
He also teased me by tilting my chair backwards which made me panic and squirm but being unable to do anything about it. By the end of the session I was so floaty and spacey I was unable to speak - nodding and giving a thumbs up was about all I could manage.
It's a while since I've been in subspace like that, it was wonderful, and made me very happy, although I forgot what it did to me and in that state wasn't able to communicate with him that everything was fine (apart from grinning inanely and nodding when he asked me).
Depending on what sort of play I've done, sometimes I want to be left alone, sometimes I want cuddles and chocolate, and sometimes I want a blanket or just to curl up for a bit. Once I'm in that space though it's very difficult to actually tell people any of this. So the negotiating of safewords, what we wanted to do etc was all fine and responsible, I just need to remember to tell people what I get like if I'm spacey and that me not speaking is ok!
Monday, 27 August 2012
Argh, hide me from the terrifying nudity!
What's so wrong with just being naked? Society seems to want us to be ashamed of our bodies and cover them up with anyone other than ourselves and our (one and only) partner. I just don't see the reason why. Our bodies are just the casings that stop our blood and guts from falling out. Yes, they're different shapes and sizes depending on how much they need to fit inside. Some of them have different bits attached to them to hold different things. And they're wonderfully clever, well-engineered things which have taken thousands of years of evolution to produce - so why do we have to hide them?
I think being naked can help people to become more comfortable with their own bodies - covering them up only helps to add to the idea that our bodies are dirty, shameful secrets that no one should see. The way the media eroticises nudity only helps to add to the idea that being naked is either naughty or erotic and no one except you and your partner should ever see it. Which is damaging - there are so many people with issues about body confidence because people are taught to be ashamed of their bodies, especially the 'naughty bits'. Even the terminology is damaging. For someone to learn that some parts of themselves are ok and some are not creates a weird, unhealthy relationship with parts of their bodies. Certain parts are seen as always erotic, no matter what the context. There've been cases of people being taken to court for owning pictures of their spouses breastfeeding their child - because obviously a breast in the picture makes it erotic and therefore child porn! I mean, what the hell?!
Happily, I got to the point over the last year where I'm now in a really happy, comfortable relationship with my body and how I view myself. I've no idea how much I weigh (I never really got the idea of using weight as a measure of health) and I don't care. If I'm happy with my body and feel healthy, then that's what matters.
I'm really pretty happy with my body. Not in a 'I'm so proud of it, it's amazing, I want to show it off' sort of way, but in a 'it's just a body, what's the big deal?' kind of way. I'm don't have that many feelings one way or the other about it. It's just the casing that keeps by blood and guts from spilling everywhere, and well... it looks like a body. I've become a lot more happy being naked - when I'm at Azariah's house I don't bother putting on clothes at night if I get up to go to the toilet. If his mum or dad see me naked, well, they see me naked. It's just a naked body! They've got them, they have children so have presumably seen other people naked before, and I'm pretty sure they wouldn't care or make a big deal about it.
If I see a person getting changed, I don't get automatically turned on. If I fancy them - find them amusing, intelligent and intriguing - then that might change my response. I can appreciate body forms that I find aesthetically pleasing, but without the mental interaction it's not sexy, just 'oh, that's pretty!' The more attracted to someone I am mentally, the more attractive I find them physically. The mental side plays a huuuuge part in attraction for me.
There've been lots of times recently where I've been hot and sweaty, and Azariah has taken his top off. I went to do the same, and then realised that I might get reported for doing exactly the same as him. Because obviously my chest is inherently sexual, whereas his isn't. Well y'know what? I'm fed up of it. I want to be naked if it's too hot, and it not be seen as some sort of act of rebellion or anarchy. It's just skin, and sometimes it's too hot to wear clothes. Or I can't be bothered to get dressed. But I'm not trying to be 'sexy' or 'erotic', or prove some kind of point about feminism not having reached its goals yet (there's a lot that could be said about that, but I'll leave it for another post), I just want people to start viewing bodies as just that - bodies. No body part is inherently sexy or erotic, eroticism depends on the context, the relationship between the people involved, the way they feel about themselves and the chemistry between those involved.
So, from now on, I'm going to care a bit less. If I'm round at someone's house and feel hot I'll ask if they'd mind me taking a layer off. I'm not going out of my way to make others uncomfortable, but I don't want to feel uncomfortable either. I won't be wandering the streets naked anytime soon, but I do wish that that were an option if I wanted it to be.
I think being naked can help people to become more comfortable with their own bodies - covering them up only helps to add to the idea that our bodies are dirty, shameful secrets that no one should see. The way the media eroticises nudity only helps to add to the idea that being naked is either naughty or erotic and no one except you and your partner should ever see it. Which is damaging - there are so many people with issues about body confidence because people are taught to be ashamed of their bodies, especially the 'naughty bits'. Even the terminology is damaging. For someone to learn that some parts of themselves are ok and some are not creates a weird, unhealthy relationship with parts of their bodies. Certain parts are seen as always erotic, no matter what the context. There've been cases of people being taken to court for owning pictures of their spouses breastfeeding their child - because obviously a breast in the picture makes it erotic and therefore child porn! I mean, what the hell?!
Happily, I got to the point over the last year where I'm now in a really happy, comfortable relationship with my body and how I view myself. I've no idea how much I weigh (I never really got the idea of using weight as a measure of health) and I don't care. If I'm happy with my body and feel healthy, then that's what matters.
I'm really pretty happy with my body. Not in a 'I'm so proud of it, it's amazing, I want to show it off' sort of way, but in a 'it's just a body, what's the big deal?' kind of way. I'm don't have that many feelings one way or the other about it. It's just the casing that keeps by blood and guts from spilling everywhere, and well... it looks like a body. I've become a lot more happy being naked - when I'm at Azariah's house I don't bother putting on clothes at night if I get up to go to the toilet. If his mum or dad see me naked, well, they see me naked. It's just a naked body! They've got them, they have children so have presumably seen other people naked before, and I'm pretty sure they wouldn't care or make a big deal about it.
If I see a person getting changed, I don't get automatically turned on. If I fancy them - find them amusing, intelligent and intriguing - then that might change my response. I can appreciate body forms that I find aesthetically pleasing, but without the mental interaction it's not sexy, just 'oh, that's pretty!' The more attracted to someone I am mentally, the more attractive I find them physically. The mental side plays a huuuuge part in attraction for me.
There've been lots of times recently where I've been hot and sweaty, and Azariah has taken his top off. I went to do the same, and then realised that I might get reported for doing exactly the same as him. Because obviously my chest is inherently sexual, whereas his isn't. Well y'know what? I'm fed up of it. I want to be naked if it's too hot, and it not be seen as some sort of act of rebellion or anarchy. It's just skin, and sometimes it's too hot to wear clothes. Or I can't be bothered to get dressed. But I'm not trying to be 'sexy' or 'erotic', or prove some kind of point about feminism not having reached its goals yet (there's a lot that could be said about that, but I'll leave it for another post), I just want people to start viewing bodies as just that - bodies. No body part is inherently sexy or erotic, eroticism depends on the context, the relationship between the people involved, the way they feel about themselves and the chemistry between those involved.
So, from now on, I'm going to care a bit less. If I'm round at someone's house and feel hot I'll ask if they'd mind me taking a layer off. I'm not going out of my way to make others uncomfortable, but I don't want to feel uncomfortable either. I won't be wandering the streets naked anytime soon, but I do wish that that were an option if I wanted it to be.
Sunday, 26 August 2012
Soppy lovey dovey submissive stuff.
So I tried to write some poems last week. One morning I couldn't get any ideas out at all. I thought I'd try just writing a stream of consciousness and see what came out, and maybe I could make something of whatever was going on in my mind. This is what came out:
Azariah
You are my rock, my crutch to lean on when times are hard. You know me better than I know myself. I trust you completely because I know you wouldn't do anything to harm me. I am yours completely to do with what you wish. If you choose to ignore me, hurt me, or cast me aside, I know it's because you have my best interests at heart, and though it might be hard to understand in those moments, your actions always turn out to be what I needed most at the time. I do not feel worthy of being yours, but I will do everything in my power to keep you happy and make you proud of me. When you need someone to lean on, you only have to call me and I'll be there, and I will do my best to make sure you don't have to call. I am yours to make you happy, whatever that may take. You are incredible, you take my breath away. I don't have words enough to describe my depth of feelings for you. All I can do is give you myself. All that I am, I give to you. I love you, Sir. In my eyes you are perfect.
Azariah
You are my rock, my crutch to lean on when times are hard. You know me better than I know myself. I trust you completely because I know you wouldn't do anything to harm me. I am yours completely to do with what you wish. If you choose to ignore me, hurt me, or cast me aside, I know it's because you have my best interests at heart, and though it might be hard to understand in those moments, your actions always turn out to be what I needed most at the time. I do not feel worthy of being yours, but I will do everything in my power to keep you happy and make you proud of me. When you need someone to lean on, you only have to call me and I'll be there, and I will do my best to make sure you don't have to call. I am yours to make you happy, whatever that may take. You are incredible, you take my breath away. I don't have words enough to describe my depth of feelings for you. All I can do is give you myself. All that I am, I give to you. I love you, Sir. In my eyes you are perfect.
This is pretty hard to write.
Trigger warning for rape/abuse.
Ok, this might be a bit too close for comfort for some. Others will probably know the person I'm talking about despite the use of pseudonyms. It's a bit explicit in places. If you think it might make you feel uncomfortable I'd stop now. Have some tea and kittens instead...
_____
Right. Okay.
When I was in University, I met someone I'll call Julian. We were performing in a panto together, and he seemed funny. I little odd and quirky, sometimes a bit annoying, but we had a giggle together.
One day I went over to the halls he was staying in at Uni. We sat and drank tea in his kitchen, I said hi to some of his flatmates, and we ate some cakey thing - I don't remember what it was. Then we went into his room and ended up kissing. After that he told me that when he first met me he knew we'd end up doing this. I found that a little bit arrogant, but also thought that nerves after just kissing someone for the first time can sometimes make you say things you wouldn't normally. Looking back I probably should have heard the alarm bells then, but they were too small for me to actually worry about anything.
There's a bit of a gap in my memory here - the next bit I remember is lying on the floor while his fingers were inside me, feeling decidedly uncomfortable and knowing that I didn't really want this, but I didn't want to make him feel bad, and I thought it wasn't doing any harm - he'd get bored soon and stop surely. I felt nervous and a little pressured, but not out of my depth. I wasn't scared.
Then he got out a condom and put it on his cock. There wasn't any talking. He didn't ask me if I wanted to have sex, or check for my consent. I think he interpreted my silence as consent enough - I hadn't said no, so I couldn't have a problem with this, right? At this point I knew I definitely didn't want to have sex with him, but I thought 'well he's opened the packet now, he'll be annoyed if he's wasted it. I can't really say no after I let him have his fingers inside me, he'll expect me to have sex with him now...'
I tensed up. I didn't want sex, I didn't want to offend him by saying no, I thought he'd think that I'd led him on, teased him. I was still lying on my back, but I sat up and backed away from him, hoping he'd take it as a hint. He crawled forward until he was positioned above me. I tensed up. I couldn't talk. I clamped my cunt muscles closed as tightly as I could, thinking that if he couldn't get it inside it just wouldn't happen and he'd give up.
He tried to force himself inside me. He couldn't get more than the head inside. He tried again a few times, laughing at his inability to get inside. I didn't say anything. I'm not sure I could've.
After a few more tries he gave up, took the condom off and that was it. I didn't feel like I'd been raped, I just thought that that sort of thing sometimes happened if one person wanted sex and the other didn't. I left his place and have never seen him since.
Looking back, with hindsight and a lot more knowledge about consent, I was raped. It wasn't the pantomime villain in an alleyway with a knife, it was someone I knew, in the middle of the day, after tea and cakes. I wasn't kicking and screaming, struggling or held down. But I didn't consent. I wasn't even asked whether I wanted any of this, it was just either a naive assumption that because I hadn't said stop that I wanted him to carry on, or he realised that I wasn't into it but decided to carry on unless I said no - that way justifying it in his head. I really hope it was the former, but I tried to physically push him away, remove myself from the situation, and at no point did I say yes (or any variant thereof).
This happened quite a few years ago, and I only remembered it in March this year, at which point I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach, my guts had been pulled out and I was going to vomit. I was confused, because I hadn't said no, so it couldn't have been rape right? And it was someone I knew! Also lots of my friends know him, think he's nice or funny or odd, and nice people with friends can't be rapists surely.
The trouble is that everyone knows him. I don't feel like I can tell anyone (except a few close friends) in case they think I'm making it up, or I'm exaggerating, etc. Every time his name has been mentioned since I remembered this incident, I shut down. I feel hollow, like there's a sinking emptiness in my stomach. I lose the ability to talk. I feel like curling up and crying, and most of the time I have to make my excuses (non-verbally) and get away from the conversation.
I've been to two weddings in the last few weeks. At the end of the night after the first wedding, his name was mentioned. Not just his name, but also the fact that he was a bit odd, and had written a load of stories about rape. It was right at the end, and I had about half an hour of being unable to speak. People asked if I was ok and I just nodded or gave a thumbs up. I couldn't say anything.
The following weekend at the start of the reception he was brought up again. The conversation went on for a good 5 minutes about his 'hilarious' stories, weird cooking habits and generally just how amusing people find him. I had to find a close friend and just hold her hand for a while without speaking. After I'd recovered from that, an hour or so later he was mentioned again in another conversation with a separate group of friends!
It seems that he's being mentioned around me more and more often, and I need to find a way to deal with my reactions to him so that I'm able to hear his name without completely shutting down. Maybe writing this will help. Julian raped me.
Ok, this might be a bit too close for comfort for some. Others will probably know the person I'm talking about despite the use of pseudonyms. It's a bit explicit in places. If you think it might make you feel uncomfortable I'd stop now. Have some tea and kittens instead...
_____
Right. Okay.
When I was in University, I met someone I'll call Julian. We were performing in a panto together, and he seemed funny. I little odd and quirky, sometimes a bit annoying, but we had a giggle together.
One day I went over to the halls he was staying in at Uni. We sat and drank tea in his kitchen, I said hi to some of his flatmates, and we ate some cakey thing - I don't remember what it was. Then we went into his room and ended up kissing. After that he told me that when he first met me he knew we'd end up doing this. I found that a little bit arrogant, but also thought that nerves after just kissing someone for the first time can sometimes make you say things you wouldn't normally. Looking back I probably should have heard the alarm bells then, but they were too small for me to actually worry about anything.
There's a bit of a gap in my memory here - the next bit I remember is lying on the floor while his fingers were inside me, feeling decidedly uncomfortable and knowing that I didn't really want this, but I didn't want to make him feel bad, and I thought it wasn't doing any harm - he'd get bored soon and stop surely. I felt nervous and a little pressured, but not out of my depth. I wasn't scared.
Then he got out a condom and put it on his cock. There wasn't any talking. He didn't ask me if I wanted to have sex, or check for my consent. I think he interpreted my silence as consent enough - I hadn't said no, so I couldn't have a problem with this, right? At this point I knew I definitely didn't want to have sex with him, but I thought 'well he's opened the packet now, he'll be annoyed if he's wasted it. I can't really say no after I let him have his fingers inside me, he'll expect me to have sex with him now...'
I tensed up. I didn't want sex, I didn't want to offend him by saying no, I thought he'd think that I'd led him on, teased him. I was still lying on my back, but I sat up and backed away from him, hoping he'd take it as a hint. He crawled forward until he was positioned above me. I tensed up. I couldn't talk. I clamped my cunt muscles closed as tightly as I could, thinking that if he couldn't get it inside it just wouldn't happen and he'd give up.
He tried to force himself inside me. He couldn't get more than the head inside. He tried again a few times, laughing at his inability to get inside. I didn't say anything. I'm not sure I could've.
After a few more tries he gave up, took the condom off and that was it. I didn't feel like I'd been raped, I just thought that that sort of thing sometimes happened if one person wanted sex and the other didn't. I left his place and have never seen him since.
Looking back, with hindsight and a lot more knowledge about consent, I was raped. It wasn't the pantomime villain in an alleyway with a knife, it was someone I knew, in the middle of the day, after tea and cakes. I wasn't kicking and screaming, struggling or held down. But I didn't consent. I wasn't even asked whether I wanted any of this, it was just either a naive assumption that because I hadn't said stop that I wanted him to carry on, or he realised that I wasn't into it but decided to carry on unless I said no - that way justifying it in his head. I really hope it was the former, but I tried to physically push him away, remove myself from the situation, and at no point did I say yes (or any variant thereof).
This happened quite a few years ago, and I only remembered it in March this year, at which point I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach, my guts had been pulled out and I was going to vomit. I was confused, because I hadn't said no, so it couldn't have been rape right? And it was someone I knew! Also lots of my friends know him, think he's nice or funny or odd, and nice people with friends can't be rapists surely.
The trouble is that everyone knows him. I don't feel like I can tell anyone (except a few close friends) in case they think I'm making it up, or I'm exaggerating, etc. Every time his name has been mentioned since I remembered this incident, I shut down. I feel hollow, like there's a sinking emptiness in my stomach. I lose the ability to talk. I feel like curling up and crying, and most of the time I have to make my excuses (non-verbally) and get away from the conversation.
I've been to two weddings in the last few weeks. At the end of the night after the first wedding, his name was mentioned. Not just his name, but also the fact that he was a bit odd, and had written a load of stories about rape. It was right at the end, and I had about half an hour of being unable to speak. People asked if I was ok and I just nodded or gave a thumbs up. I couldn't say anything.
The following weekend at the start of the reception he was brought up again. The conversation went on for a good 5 minutes about his 'hilarious' stories, weird cooking habits and generally just how amusing people find him. I had to find a close friend and just hold her hand for a while without speaking. After I'd recovered from that, an hour or so later he was mentioned again in another conversation with a separate group of friends!
It seems that he's being mentioned around me more and more often, and I need to find a way to deal with my reactions to him so that I'm able to hear his name without completely shutting down. Maybe writing this will help. Julian raped me.
Thursday, 26 July 2012
Fraud
There's nothing that seems to be wrong, nothing that should be making me depressed - am I just making this up?
I'm relatively healthy, have wonderful friends and partners, am about to start a second university degree and can't think of any reason why I should feel like this.
I feel like a fraud. I feel like I don't really have depression, that I'm just making it up because I'm lazy, or want sympathy, or can't be bothered to do things. I don't know.
Logically of course I know that I'm not - I rarely get a day where I don't feel like crying at some point, for no apparent reason. Sometimes even the idea of eating is an overwhelming, insurmountable task. I'll be hungry, sometimes go as far as actually making food, but once it's in front of me I just have no motivation to eat it. I just feel pathetic at not being able to do something as simple as feeding myself.
I had to go to be put on a higher dose of antidepressants recently because I couldn't get through a day without feeling like curling up and crying. Since then I haven't had quite as much of the needing-to-cry feeling, but I still have no idea why I feel like this, it just doesn't make any sense. I feel stupid for feeling like this with no apparent reason.
Addendum - it doesn't seem like it's actually getting any better, just after writing this I got another wave of depression. I can barely move my limbs or speak it's such a big effort. I'm just sitting on the sofa watching shit on the TV. Writing this addendum has taken a ridiculous amount of effort and about 10 minutes. What the hell is wrong with me? This is pathetic.
Extra addendum: When the wave of depression comes all I can do is curl up and cry, sometimes even that feels like too much effort. I'm worried that I'm losing who I was, that the depression is taking over and the happy fun girl I normally am will be trapped inside unable to get out again. I'm worried that my friends will see the change in me and realise I'm not worth being friends with anymore, that I'm a different person - someone who's constantly down, crying, not going out to social gatherings and I'll lose touch with them. I'm scared that Azariah won't want to be with me any more because I'm constantly crying and feeling down and bringing him down, that I'm not fun to be around any more. I know that all these feelings are just the depression talking, and logically I know that it'll go away and that these thoughts and feelings aren't real, but they seem so very real.
I also had a scary thought today. I wondered what it'd feel like to cut myself, not to hurt or try to kill myself, just because I'd really like to see and feel the blood trickling out. I realise this is a stupid thought, and won't carry through with it, but I just feel so numb right now, and the idea of seeing and feeling the crimson escaping is fascinating. Right I'm going to get off the internet and go outside and try to get rid of these ridiculous thoughts.
I'm relatively healthy, have wonderful friends and partners, am about to start a second university degree and can't think of any reason why I should feel like this.
I feel like a fraud. I feel like I don't really have depression, that I'm just making it up because I'm lazy, or want sympathy, or can't be bothered to do things. I don't know.
Logically of course I know that I'm not - I rarely get a day where I don't feel like crying at some point, for no apparent reason. Sometimes even the idea of eating is an overwhelming, insurmountable task. I'll be hungry, sometimes go as far as actually making food, but once it's in front of me I just have no motivation to eat it. I just feel pathetic at not being able to do something as simple as feeding myself.
I had to go to be put on a higher dose of antidepressants recently because I couldn't get through a day without feeling like curling up and crying. Since then I haven't had quite as much of the needing-to-cry feeling, but I still have no idea why I feel like this, it just doesn't make any sense. I feel stupid for feeling like this with no apparent reason.
Addendum - it doesn't seem like it's actually getting any better, just after writing this I got another wave of depression. I can barely move my limbs or speak it's such a big effort. I'm just sitting on the sofa watching shit on the TV. Writing this addendum has taken a ridiculous amount of effort and about 10 minutes. What the hell is wrong with me? This is pathetic.
Extra addendum: When the wave of depression comes all I can do is curl up and cry, sometimes even that feels like too much effort. I'm worried that I'm losing who I was, that the depression is taking over and the happy fun girl I normally am will be trapped inside unable to get out again. I'm worried that my friends will see the change in me and realise I'm not worth being friends with anymore, that I'm a different person - someone who's constantly down, crying, not going out to social gatherings and I'll lose touch with them. I'm scared that Azariah won't want to be with me any more because I'm constantly crying and feeling down and bringing him down, that I'm not fun to be around any more. I know that all these feelings are just the depression talking, and logically I know that it'll go away and that these thoughts and feelings aren't real, but they seem so very real.
I also had a scary thought today. I wondered what it'd feel like to cut myself, not to hurt or try to kill myself, just because I'd really like to see and feel the blood trickling out. I realise this is a stupid thought, and won't carry through with it, but I just feel so numb right now, and the idea of seeing and feeling the crimson escaping is fascinating. Right I'm going to get off the internet and go outside and try to get rid of these ridiculous thoughts.
Thursday, 12 July 2012
I like weirdness =P
Azariah has shaved his armpits. He normally trims the hair a bit because he doesn't like it huuuugely long, and he just thought he'd try shaving it all off and see what that was like. And y'know what? I kinda like it! It's different, and isn't what you expect to see on a guy. I don't dislike unshaved armpits on men, it's just what you expect to see, I don't really have any feelings on them.
So it turns out I'm attracted to things which aren't in the mainstream - who'da thunk it? =P Ok, so I probably should have realised this sooner - I generally go for 'alternative' folk, whatever that means anyway (whether it's their lifestyle, world views, dress sense, hair length/colour, tattoos, piercings, etc) but I just thought that was, well... normal!
It seems odd that I needed him to point out the fact that I like things because they're unnexpected, different, and a little bit quirky. I honestly hadn't really given it much thought before the other day, but Azariah mentioned that he'd noticed that he liked people and things which were different (I'm not exactly your stereotypical mainstream gal) and that I obviously did too.
That's not to say that I dislike all mainstream things, or that I judge more conventional people negatively, just that I tend to gravitate towards those who're, well... a little bit different. =)
So it turns out I'm attracted to things which aren't in the mainstream - who'da thunk it? =P Ok, so I probably should have realised this sooner - I generally go for 'alternative' folk, whatever that means anyway (whether it's their lifestyle, world views, dress sense, hair length/colour, tattoos, piercings, etc) but I just thought that was, well... normal!
It seems odd that I needed him to point out the fact that I like things because they're unnexpected, different, and a little bit quirky. I honestly hadn't really given it much thought before the other day, but Azariah mentioned that he'd noticed that he liked people and things which were different (I'm not exactly your stereotypical mainstream gal) and that I obviously did too.
That's not to say that I dislike all mainstream things, or that I judge more conventional people negatively, just that I tend to gravitate towards those who're, well... a little bit different. =)
Wednesday, 11 July 2012
M/s, rain & happiness
Azariah and I went out for a meal the night before last, while in our M/s state, which meant I had to follow the rules we've agreed upon so far - waiting until he sits down before sitting down myself, , not looking him in the eyes (quick glances are ok, staring is not), etc. He also asked me to recommend a wine to go with his meal. I panicked a bit. I know nothing about wines except that I don't like most of them.
Before we arrived there he told me his pin and said I had to remember it, as I'd be paying with his card, and I wasn't allowed to forget it. I spent most of the walk there chanting the numbers to myself in my head.
We talked about how he'd like me to be eventually, once he's introduced all the rules - I'll have to learn to know when he wants a drink and what he wants without asking, be able to choose wines to go with meals, and if we're entertaining I'll need to know when to bring in food or drink without asking, see when people want more drinks and see to them, guage when people are getting bored of a conversation topic and be able to subtley steer it onto something different.
I'm also going ot need to learn when it's ok to be a bit cheeky and silly and when he's not in the mood for it. When it's ok for me to switch and when it's not. When we're together in public I'm not to look obviously subby, I'm just not to look at his eyes. I'm not allowed to answer a question with 'I don't know' (I often do this when asked what I want to do or eat etc - I'm pretty indecisive) I need to give an answer of some sort.
I'll need to know what food he feels like and when, and be able to order for him. This is going to be a lot of work!
At the end of the meal the waiter came over with the card machine and I typed in Azariah's pin. As I did so I looked up and saw him mouth 'fuck'. He told me he'd never given anyone that information before - it was a big thing for him. He put his hand on his chest and said it gave him a warm feeling there. *smiles*
While we were in the restaurant it started raining. Raining is a bit of an understatement - the water was running down the road in streams! We had to walk back. We got the the door, and strode outside into the rain. Y'know what? It was amazing! We justs walked along, hand-in-hand, getting absolutely soaked. Azariah pulled me in and kissed me. We stood there kissing in the rain for some time.
'You've broken me' he said. 'We're not meant to like being in the rain. People walk fast, with their heads down, and hate it. This is brilliant. Tabboos are brilliant. I love you so much, it scares me sometimes.'
'I feel so free with you. I'm with you, but I'm not tied down, I'm my own person and I can do what I like, and you trust me to make the right choices. And you're free to do exactly as you like and I trust that you'll do the right thing. Even if it's breaking up with me, I trust you to do it in the most loving way possible.'
We both strolled back in the pouring rain just beaming and holding hands. And later I just grabbed him and kissed him. "That was very forward of you" he said, but not disapprovingly. As we walked back he took his top off. The confidence he walked with was so attractive. I pushed him up against a lamppost and kissed him, dragging my nails accross his skin and pulling his hair to make him whimper. Oh yeah, I might've switched a bit. =P
When we got to my front door Azariah leaned against the wall, topless and dripping wet and innocently said "Can I help you?"
Teasingly, I said he looked awfully wet and cold and he should come inside to warm up. There was more kissing and scratching and I cheesily said "We'd better get you out of those wet clothes..."
Azariah told me that was possibly the corniest, tackiest chat-up line ever. I pointed out that if you'd got to the topless, almost ripping each others' clothes off stage then it didn't really matter what you said, he was hardly going to say 'hold on, that was terrible, get out'.
I think you can all imagine what happened next. (No, he didn't tell me to get out...)
Before we arrived there he told me his pin and said I had to remember it, as I'd be paying with his card, and I wasn't allowed to forget it. I spent most of the walk there chanting the numbers to myself in my head.
We talked about how he'd like me to be eventually, once he's introduced all the rules - I'll have to learn to know when he wants a drink and what he wants without asking, be able to choose wines to go with meals, and if we're entertaining I'll need to know when to bring in food or drink without asking, see when people want more drinks and see to them, guage when people are getting bored of a conversation topic and be able to subtley steer it onto something different.
I'm also going ot need to learn when it's ok to be a bit cheeky and silly and when he's not in the mood for it. When it's ok for me to switch and when it's not. When we're together in public I'm not to look obviously subby, I'm just not to look at his eyes. I'm not allowed to answer a question with 'I don't know' (I often do this when asked what I want to do or eat etc - I'm pretty indecisive) I need to give an answer of some sort.
I'll need to know what food he feels like and when, and be able to order for him. This is going to be a lot of work!
At the end of the meal the waiter came over with the card machine and I typed in Azariah's pin. As I did so I looked up and saw him mouth 'fuck'. He told me he'd never given anyone that information before - it was a big thing for him. He put his hand on his chest and said it gave him a warm feeling there. *smiles*
While we were in the restaurant it started raining. Raining is a bit of an understatement - the water was running down the road in streams! We had to walk back. We got the the door, and strode outside into the rain. Y'know what? It was amazing! We justs walked along, hand-in-hand, getting absolutely soaked. Azariah pulled me in and kissed me. We stood there kissing in the rain for some time.
'You've broken me' he said. 'We're not meant to like being in the rain. People walk fast, with their heads down, and hate it. This is brilliant. Tabboos are brilliant. I love you so much, it scares me sometimes.'
'I feel so free with you. I'm with you, but I'm not tied down, I'm my own person and I can do what I like, and you trust me to make the right choices. And you're free to do exactly as you like and I trust that you'll do the right thing. Even if it's breaking up with me, I trust you to do it in the most loving way possible.'
We both strolled back in the pouring rain just beaming and holding hands. And later I just grabbed him and kissed him. "That was very forward of you" he said, but not disapprovingly. As we walked back he took his top off. The confidence he walked with was so attractive. I pushed him up against a lamppost and kissed him, dragging my nails accross his skin and pulling his hair to make him whimper. Oh yeah, I might've switched a bit. =P
When we got to my front door Azariah leaned against the wall, topless and dripping wet and innocently said "Can I help you?"
Teasingly, I said he looked awfully wet and cold and he should come inside to warm up. There was more kissing and scratching and I cheesily said "We'd better get you out of those wet clothes..."
Azariah told me that was possibly the corniest, tackiest chat-up line ever. I pointed out that if you'd got to the topless, almost ripping each others' clothes off stage then it didn't really matter what you said, he was hardly going to say 'hold on, that was terrible, get out'.
I think you can all imagine what happened next. (No, he didn't tell me to get out...)
Tuesday, 3 July 2012
New job nerves!
I'm starting a new job tomorrow! I'll be working with The Challenge, supervising a group of 12 16 year olds from different social & economic backgrounds but the same area of Birmignham. Most of the days I'll be working from 7am 'til 11pm. We've been told that when physical fights occur we're not expected to get involved physically to break them up. Not if. When...
So, it's going to be pretty knackering! There are going to be culture clashes, disagreements, arguments, kids with special needs, disruptive or trouble-making children and ones who just don't care or don't want to be there.
I've got to be approachable, motivating, respected enough for them to follow my rules and listen to what I say, yet still fun so that they want to join in rather than just make trouble.
I'm nervous to say the least, but also excited. It could be amazing and rewarding, or overwhelming and disheartening. I really hope it's the former.
I'm nervous as to how well I'll cope given the affect the antidepressants seem to be having on me. Maybe I'll just be so busy that I won't have time to feel shit!
Fingers crossed that it all goes awesomely!
So, it's going to be pretty knackering! There are going to be culture clashes, disagreements, arguments, kids with special needs, disruptive or trouble-making children and ones who just don't care or don't want to be there.
I've got to be approachable, motivating, respected enough for them to follow my rules and listen to what I say, yet still fun so that they want to join in rather than just make trouble.
I'm nervous to say the least, but also excited. It could be amazing and rewarding, or overwhelming and disheartening. I really hope it's the former.
I'm nervous as to how well I'll cope given the affect the antidepressants seem to be having on me. Maybe I'll just be so busy that I won't have time to feel shit!
Fingers crossed that it all goes awesomely!
Monday, 2 July 2012
Depression
So I went to the Doctors and told them I was finding it harder to cope. I'm still on the extremely long waiting list for counselling, but that's not exactly comforting or helping with the whole feeling-shit thing.
The doctor I saw just gave me some antidepressants, said she'd call me in 2 weeks to see how they were working for me and sent me on my way. The drugs she gave me didn't have an information leaflet in them, so I had no idea about side-effects, other drugs they might interact with, when to take them or in fact anything useful at all.
Luckily Azariah takes the same tablets, and I was able to read his leaflet. He told me all about the side-effects he and other people he knew had had, including the fact that for the first two weeks they'll probably make me even more depressed.
Well that's certainly true. Since I started on them I haven't had a single day where I haven't wanted to curl up and cry at some point. Yesterday this lasted almost all day, so much so that I couldn't even leave the friend's house I was staying at to drive home, it was just too much to cope with. I left this morning and felt ok, but once I'd got home the feeling came back again. I managed to eat some food which seemed like a huuuge task, and am meant to be packing ready for the residential work I'm starting on Wednesday but just can't face it yet. I don't want to go, I just want to cry. If I'd known the tablets would do this to me I'd have waited until after the job finished in a couple of months and just stuck with the depression - I don't know if I'm going to be able to cope with the job while I'm feeling like this.
The doctor I saw just gave me some antidepressants, said she'd call me in 2 weeks to see how they were working for me and sent me on my way. The drugs she gave me didn't have an information leaflet in them, so I had no idea about side-effects, other drugs they might interact with, when to take them or in fact anything useful at all.
Luckily Azariah takes the same tablets, and I was able to read his leaflet. He told me all about the side-effects he and other people he knew had had, including the fact that for the first two weeks they'll probably make me even more depressed.
Well that's certainly true. Since I started on them I haven't had a single day where I haven't wanted to curl up and cry at some point. Yesterday this lasted almost all day, so much so that I couldn't even leave the friend's house I was staying at to drive home, it was just too much to cope with. I left this morning and felt ok, but once I'd got home the feeling came back again. I managed to eat some food which seemed like a huuuge task, and am meant to be packing ready for the residential work I'm starting on Wednesday but just can't face it yet. I don't want to go, I just want to cry. If I'd known the tablets would do this to me I'd have waited until after the job finished in a couple of months and just stuck with the depression - I don't know if I'm going to be able to cope with the job while I'm feeling like this.
Not crazy! Well, maybe not... =P
Since I was about 19 I've occasionally had some weird turns, which the doctors all thought were mini strokes. They were very scary, I've had hundreds of tests done, none of which can find anything significant wrong with me. Most of the doctors thought it was to do with the hole in my heart I had, which was closed when I was 19.
Anyway, I've finally been referred to a neurologist, who's absolutely amazing! After one session, he's narrowed it down to 3 possible things, taken a load of blood and other samples and as soon as he has the results he'll call me to arrange another appointment! I feel like I've finally found someone who knows what they're talking about, and actually cares about fixing me! =D
I explained what happened when I had these turns, and he said he could immediately rule out mini-strokes (TIAs), MS (which I never thought it was anyway) and anything to do with my heart. Woohoo! He also had a list of 3 things he thought it could be: a rare type of migraine called a Basilar migraine, a rare genetic disorder called porphyria, and something else which I've forgotten.
I really hope it's just the weird migraine thing, it'd be such a relief to know it was just a migraine that was happening and not a possible stroke or heart problem! Fingers crossed that it's something easily treatable or preventable and I'll be all fixed soon!
Anyway, I've finally been referred to a neurologist, who's absolutely amazing! After one session, he's narrowed it down to 3 possible things, taken a load of blood and other samples and as soon as he has the results he'll call me to arrange another appointment! I feel like I've finally found someone who knows what they're talking about, and actually cares about fixing me! =D
I explained what happened when I had these turns, and he said he could immediately rule out mini-strokes (TIAs), MS (which I never thought it was anyway) and anything to do with my heart. Woohoo! He also had a list of 3 things he thought it could be: a rare type of migraine called a Basilar migraine, a rare genetic disorder called porphyria, and something else which I've forgotten.
I really hope it's just the weird migraine thing, it'd be such a relief to know it was just a migraine that was happening and not a possible stroke or heart problem! Fingers crossed that it's something easily treatable or preventable and I'll be all fixed soon!
Tuesday, 26 June 2012
Afterthought
I've been thinking that describing a relationship as M/s makes it seem all very formal and not at all lighthearted and jokey. That's definitely not the case - here's a slightly shortened version of a conversation Azariah and I had while lying in bed a couple of nights ago:
A: (after licking my eyebrow) You need to wash your eyebrows.
Me: What? I'm not going to wash just my eyebrows, that'd be odd.
A: You're right, if you wash your eyebrows it'll make you tired.
Me: What?
A: If you go and wash your eyebrows now, you'll be tireder later.
Me: Why would washing my eyebrows make me tired?
A: I don't mean washing eyebrows makes people tired, but if you go and wash them NOW, you'll be tired.
Me: ...?
A: Go and wash your eyebrows.
Me: What? Seriously?
A: Go and wash your eyebrows! Thoroughly!
Me: *sighs, goes to bathroom. washes eyebrows quickly with water (and soap - go me!) Goes back into the bedroom.* Now I have cold eyebrows.
A: You could have used hot water.
Me: Then I'd have had to wait for the hot water and it's late.
A: Go and wash them with hot water.
Me: *sighs, goes and washes eyebrows with HOT water. Re-enters the bedroom, lies down.* Wow, I'm really tired now! NOT because I washed my eyebrows!
A: I told you! Washing your eyebrows makes you tired!
Me: I'm not tired because I washed my eyebrows, I just happen to be very tired now when I wasn't before. And it's not because you told me I'd be tired. You can't condition me to be tired from washing my eyebrows.
A: Oh can't I?
Me: I didn't mean you couldn't physically do it, but... you shouldn't. There'd be no point.
A: (giggling) I could make you tired whenever I wanted to just by making you wash your eyebrows!
Me: Why don't you go and wash your eyebrows so you can fall asleep quicker?
A: Because I'm the one in charge and I'm don't want to wash my eyebrows!
Me: *bursts out laughing*
As you can see, it's all very serious and formal... =P
A: (after licking my eyebrow) You need to wash your eyebrows.
Me: What? I'm not going to wash just my eyebrows, that'd be odd.
A: You're right, if you wash your eyebrows it'll make you tired.
Me: What?
A: If you go and wash your eyebrows now, you'll be tireder later.
Me: Why would washing my eyebrows make me tired?
A: I don't mean washing eyebrows makes people tired, but if you go and wash them NOW, you'll be tired.
Me: ...?
A: Go and wash your eyebrows.
Me: What? Seriously?
A: Go and wash your eyebrows! Thoroughly!
Me: *sighs, goes to bathroom. washes eyebrows quickly with water (and soap - go me!) Goes back into the bedroom.* Now I have cold eyebrows.
A: You could have used hot water.
Me: Then I'd have had to wait for the hot water and it's late.
A: Go and wash them with hot water.
Me: *sighs, goes and washes eyebrows with HOT water. Re-enters the bedroom, lies down.* Wow, I'm really tired now! NOT because I washed my eyebrows!
A: I told you! Washing your eyebrows makes you tired!
Me: I'm not tired because I washed my eyebrows, I just happen to be very tired now when I wasn't before. And it's not because you told me I'd be tired. You can't condition me to be tired from washing my eyebrows.
A: Oh can't I?
Me: I didn't mean you couldn't physically do it, but... you shouldn't. There'd be no point.
A: (giggling) I could make you tired whenever I wanted to just by making you wash your eyebrows!
Me: Why don't you go and wash your eyebrows so you can fall asleep quicker?
A: Because I'm the one in charge and I'm don't want to wash my eyebrows!
Me: *bursts out laughing*
As you can see, it's all very serious and formal... =P
Monday, 25 June 2012
M/s explained
I forgot when I posted the last post that some people might now know what M/s or D/s relationships are. I'll try to be clear:
D/s stands for Dominant/submissive, M/s stands for Master/slave.
In a D/s relationship, one partner is submissive to the other. This can be purely sexual, or 24/7, or anything in between. The dominant partner could have the last say in making decisions, giving rules or orders for the submissive to follow etc, and in return they look after and protect the submissive partner. It's always consensual, it's in no way forced or coerced. The submissive (shortened to sub) gets to be taken care of and enjoys making their Dominant (Dom/me) happy.
This can translate to the bedroom, with some people seeing D/s as a purely sexual thing, while others see it as a lifestyle.
An M/s relationship is similar to a D/s one, but in an M/s relationship the slave (not sub) gives 'ownership' of themselves to their Master/Mistress. Of course they're not legally owned, but it's about giving up control, putting full and complete trust in your partner and giving them permission to make decisions for you, and treat you as their own. The main difference between M/s and D/s is that the 'slave' in a relationship gives up ownership of their body to their master or mistress, while the submissive is generally not seen as 'owned'. A submissive may choose not to do things, or use safeworda, which a slave doesn't necessarily have (of course it all depends in the individual relationship, and the line between the two can get quite blurry and wiggly).
Have a look at the Wikipedia article for this, as it's actually quite good! http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Master/slave_(BDSM)
D/s stands for Dominant/submissive, M/s stands for Master/slave.
In a D/s relationship, one partner is submissive to the other. This can be purely sexual, or 24/7, or anything in between. The dominant partner could have the last say in making decisions, giving rules or orders for the submissive to follow etc, and in return they look after and protect the submissive partner. It's always consensual, it's in no way forced or coerced. The submissive (shortened to sub) gets to be taken care of and enjoys making their Dominant (Dom/me) happy.
This can translate to the bedroom, with some people seeing D/s as a purely sexual thing, while others see it as a lifestyle.
An M/s relationship is similar to a D/s one, but in an M/s relationship the slave (not sub) gives 'ownership' of themselves to their Master/Mistress. Of course they're not legally owned, but it's about giving up control, putting full and complete trust in your partner and giving them permission to make decisions for you, and treat you as their own. The main difference between M/s and D/s is that the 'slave' in a relationship gives up ownership of their body to their master or mistress, while the submissive is generally not seen as 'owned'. A submissive may choose not to do things, or use safeworda, which a slave doesn't necessarily have (of course it all depends in the individual relationship, and the line between the two can get quite blurry and wiggly).
Have a look at the Wikipedia article for this, as it's actually quite good! http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Master/slave_(BDSM)
The start of an M/s relationship...
Right, so hopefully second try lucky - the first time I posted this the website completely messed up all of my paragraphs and even deleted huge chunks in the middle which left the post almost indecipherable! *hmph* Hopefully I've remembered everything I wrote the first time round...
So, I've been staying at Azariah's house for a while. When I turned up he said: "I read your blog post."
"Oh yes?" I said, tentatively probing for a response "Aaaand... what did you think?"
"I read it, and read it again, and just felt..." He put his hand over his heart "I just felt a warm feeling right here when I read it, which spread out through my chest. Not like a sexual thing, just... warm, and happy. I think I could do that." I smiled. And it wasn't mentioned again.
And then last night (I arrived here on Monday, it's Sunday now) his brother had some friends over, who were being stereotypically laddish and playing beer pong downstairs, so we decided to take a bottle of wine (which later became two bottles and rather a lot of chocolate liqueur) upstairs and get tipsy and maybe watch a film.
Yeah... the film didn't happen. Not even a little bit. Instead, there was lots of nakedness, giggling and about 3 hours of foreplay. The sort that leaves you unable to keep your hands off each other. It was hot =P
Anyway I went to the toilet (a whole bottle of wine will make you need to wee quite a lot!) and when I came back Azariah had poured chocolate liqueur aaaallll over his torso! I tried licking it all off, I really did, but just ended up with a very sticky face. And then I was covered in a yummy chocolatey mess.
Oh and he bit my face. Yes. You read that right. Not my neck, not in an 'ooh-I'm-going-to-nibble-your-earlobe/bite-your-neck-and-it'll-be-sexy' way. Just, my cheek. It hurt a bit, and in my drunken state made me a bit teary. I was also now all sticky and just suddenly wanted to get clean and get rid of the sticky mess.
We thought a shower would be a good idea, then we could pick up where we left off. Y'know, with the sex part...
While the shower was warming up, Azariah cuddled me and held me and told me everything was ok. He told me I was beautiful, gorgeous, hot, attractive, and sexy lots of times (but in my drunken teary state I didn't really believe him) and then later, once we were less sticky and under the jet of the shower, he asked if I still wanted to be his. He said he'd protect me from harm, look after me, and own me. There'd be rules, which I'd be allowed to question if I think they might cause me harm but ultimately his anything would be his choice. And if I felt anything was violating my human rights I needed to tell him, and be willing to go above him if necessary. He was quite insistent that I understood that part, and it was odd agreeing that I would go to the police if I needed to when I trust him so much, but I did. He said that sometimes he would require me to domme him, sometimes to hurt him, but at all times I would still be his.
He said lots of other adorable, touching things which made me glow inside with happiness, but the gist of it is that I'm now his. I want to please him, to make him happy, and will do what he wishes even if I don't always want to, as I know he'll have my best interests at heart. I'm sure it'll be hard at times, there'll be difficulties to overcome, and we'll probably both make mistakes but I'm really happy and looking forward to everything that comes with this.
Of course we talked about all of this the next morning while sober, and came to the conclusion that we hadn't said or agreed to anything stupid that we didn't actually want to do.
We've introduced a couple of rules so far, which I'm still trying to get used to, but we're taking things slowly and training will progress at a pace we're both comfortable with.
In short, I'm happy, and everything in this part of my life is awesome and wonderful. *grins*
Any questions?
So, I've been staying at Azariah's house for a while. When I turned up he said: "I read your blog post."
"Oh yes?" I said, tentatively probing for a response "Aaaand... what did you think?"
"I read it, and read it again, and just felt..." He put his hand over his heart "I just felt a warm feeling right here when I read it, which spread out through my chest. Not like a sexual thing, just... warm, and happy. I think I could do that." I smiled. And it wasn't mentioned again.
And then last night (I arrived here on Monday, it's Sunday now) his brother had some friends over, who were being stereotypically laddish and playing beer pong downstairs, so we decided to take a bottle of wine (which later became two bottles and rather a lot of chocolate liqueur) upstairs and get tipsy and maybe watch a film.
Yeah... the film didn't happen. Not even a little bit. Instead, there was lots of nakedness, giggling and about 3 hours of foreplay. The sort that leaves you unable to keep your hands off each other. It was hot =P
Anyway I went to the toilet (a whole bottle of wine will make you need to wee quite a lot!) and when I came back Azariah had poured chocolate liqueur aaaallll over his torso! I tried licking it all off, I really did, but just ended up with a very sticky face. And then I was covered in a yummy chocolatey mess.
Oh and he bit my face. Yes. You read that right. Not my neck, not in an 'ooh-I'm-going-to-nibble-your-earlobe/bite-your-neck-and-it'll-be-sexy' way. Just, my cheek. It hurt a bit, and in my drunken state made me a bit teary. I was also now all sticky and just suddenly wanted to get clean and get rid of the sticky mess.
We thought a shower would be a good idea, then we could pick up where we left off. Y'know, with the sex part...
While the shower was warming up, Azariah cuddled me and held me and told me everything was ok. He told me I was beautiful, gorgeous, hot, attractive, and sexy lots of times (but in my drunken teary state I didn't really believe him) and then later, once we were less sticky and under the jet of the shower, he asked if I still wanted to be his. He said he'd protect me from harm, look after me, and own me. There'd be rules, which I'd be allowed to question if I think they might cause me harm but ultimately his anything would be his choice. And if I felt anything was violating my human rights I needed to tell him, and be willing to go above him if necessary. He was quite insistent that I understood that part, and it was odd agreeing that I would go to the police if I needed to when I trust him so much, but I did. He said that sometimes he would require me to domme him, sometimes to hurt him, but at all times I would still be his.
He said lots of other adorable, touching things which made me glow inside with happiness, but the gist of it is that I'm now his. I want to please him, to make him happy, and will do what he wishes even if I don't always want to, as I know he'll have my best interests at heart. I'm sure it'll be hard at times, there'll be difficulties to overcome, and we'll probably both make mistakes but I'm really happy and looking forward to everything that comes with this.
Of course we talked about all of this the next morning while sober, and came to the conclusion that we hadn't said or agreed to anything stupid that we didn't actually want to do.
We've introduced a couple of rules so far, which I'm still trying to get used to, but we're taking things slowly and training will progress at a pace we're both comfortable with.
In short, I'm happy, and everything in this part of my life is awesome and wonderful. *grins*
Any questions?
Saturday, 16 June 2012
For Azariah...
Cravings:
I've been craving some high protocol D/s today. I mentioned it to you briefly earlier, but what I didn't say was that I'm craving it purely with you, not as an abstract craving with anyone.
I want something formal, not our usual style of play - just being told what to do because that's what you want, and quietly doing it to make you happy, because that's what makes me happy. Having simple, easy-to-follow rules. I will eat when you tell me to, and what you say I can. I'll wear what you ask me to and sleep when I'm told to. Nothing forced, nothing violent, I don't want to be broken this time.
I want to give myself to you completely in order to serve you. I want to please you, to serve you, to give up all control to you and obey you. I'll do what you ask in order to please you. I want to be owned, to wear a collar. And I'd like it to be longer term than our regular scenes - more like a few days at a time.
In short, after actually examining my feelings, I'm craving some more M/s scenarios rather than D/s, though the line between them is rather blurry.
I wasn't coherent enough to tell you in quite this much detail earlier because I was feeling rubbish (despite having eaten looooads of ice cream!) and my brain wasn't working very coherently.
I love you.
Moan, rant, drama queen - feel free to ignore.
Well the next post I published was going to be about something saucy and scandalous but I'm just not up to it. I just can't do anything right now.
I've spent the day sitting on the sofa not even having the motivation to reach the TV remote to change channels from the horrible reality programmes which kept cropping up. I've been feeling like crying all day, but not wanting to cry in front on people in case it disturbed them or made them feel awkward. I've resorted to crying silently every time I leave the room to go to the bathroom or refill my cup of tea.
Everything's just so daunting at the moment and I can't cope. I don't know what to do. I don't know what I can do. I feel so pathetic and useless for sitting around in my pyjamas all day and not getting anything done, I'm not helping anyone or doing anything productive to society. I signed on with the job centre on Thursday and have to apply for 4 things by Tuesday. 4 things. That should be easy peasy, but it's just so daunting. I've also got to fill in my backdating form to show every single job I applied for last month to get the money they owe me for May, and just thinking about doing that makes me want to cry.
I've got no income, I'm not even paying rent at the moment - I'm owing it to D'Artagnan so when I finally do get some money I have all that to pay off before I can even think of finding somewhere to live in Birmingham, and I really want to move out. I don't know whether to take the postgrad degree I've been offered in Birmingham since realising that it's not quite what I want to do, but it's near all my friends and I'd be happy while doing it. I have to decide in less than a month, and I have absolutely no idea what to do! There's just so much pressure to know what's going on, what I want, and what I need to do and I haven't a fucking clue.
I feel like a fraud, a failure, and I'm letting people down - I've got people hanging on wanting to know if I'll be living with them, but I can't look for anywhere else until I have a job and can afford it.
Seriously, I'm such a waste of space to humanity at the moment. I feel like crying so much of the time. That seems to go away when I'm around friends and doing things I enjoy, but as soon as they're gone or I remember that it's there it comes back with a vengance, like it's a programme constantly running in the background, often masked but almost always there.
I've had a lovely evening with Jacques and D'Artagnan making me feel a bit better, and now they've gone to bed I feel completely worthless again. I just spent half an hour in bed with D'Artagnan crying, but I was afraid of keeping people awake so I've come downstairs to drink tea. My mind won't let me sleep, I'm just worrying and feeling shit and hoping that writing some of this down will help. Well it's hard to cry and type so I guess it's working, at least I'm concentrating more on my sentences being vaguely coherent than everything else at the moment. I'm sorry if you've actually read through all this bullshit. Have a free 10 minutes of life back. It's on me.
Oh, and to top it all I now have really itchy red swollen tonsils and itchy insides of my ears. Great.
I've spent the day sitting on the sofa not even having the motivation to reach the TV remote to change channels from the horrible reality programmes which kept cropping up. I've been feeling like crying all day, but not wanting to cry in front on people in case it disturbed them or made them feel awkward. I've resorted to crying silently every time I leave the room to go to the bathroom or refill my cup of tea.
Everything's just so daunting at the moment and I can't cope. I don't know what to do. I don't know what I can do. I feel so pathetic and useless for sitting around in my pyjamas all day and not getting anything done, I'm not helping anyone or doing anything productive to society. I signed on with the job centre on Thursday and have to apply for 4 things by Tuesday. 4 things. That should be easy peasy, but it's just so daunting. I've also got to fill in my backdating form to show every single job I applied for last month to get the money they owe me for May, and just thinking about doing that makes me want to cry.
I've got no income, I'm not even paying rent at the moment - I'm owing it to D'Artagnan so when I finally do get some money I have all that to pay off before I can even think of finding somewhere to live in Birmingham, and I really want to move out. I don't know whether to take the postgrad degree I've been offered in Birmingham since realising that it's not quite what I want to do, but it's near all my friends and I'd be happy while doing it. I have to decide in less than a month, and I have absolutely no idea what to do! There's just so much pressure to know what's going on, what I want, and what I need to do and I haven't a fucking clue.
I feel like a fraud, a failure, and I'm letting people down - I've got people hanging on wanting to know if I'll be living with them, but I can't look for anywhere else until I have a job and can afford it.
Seriously, I'm such a waste of space to humanity at the moment. I feel like crying so much of the time. That seems to go away when I'm around friends and doing things I enjoy, but as soon as they're gone or I remember that it's there it comes back with a vengance, like it's a programme constantly running in the background, often masked but almost always there.
I've had a lovely evening with Jacques and D'Artagnan making me feel a bit better, and now they've gone to bed I feel completely worthless again. I just spent half an hour in bed with D'Artagnan crying, but I was afraid of keeping people awake so I've come downstairs to drink tea. My mind won't let me sleep, I'm just worrying and feeling shit and hoping that writing some of this down will help. Well it's hard to cry and type so I guess it's working, at least I'm concentrating more on my sentences being vaguely coherent than everything else at the moment. I'm sorry if you've actually read through all this bullshit. Have a free 10 minutes of life back. It's on me.
Oh, and to top it all I now have really itchy red swollen tonsils and itchy insides of my ears. Great.
Monday, 4 June 2012
Hairy legs exposed!
So on Wednesday last week I was well enough to leave the house and get outside. Finally. And it was HOT! I was boiling in my jeans, really uncomfortable! Anyway, while I was in town with an old school friend I ended up buying a new outfit from Primark - a skirt and a top for only a fiver, woop!
That's when I realised that since the whole not shaving my legs thing started, I haven't worn a skirt or dress without tights on, or it being full-length so no one would see me legs.
And I realised then that it didn't matter anymore - I didn't care! I changed into my new shortish (above the knee) skirt and strappy top (showing off my wonderful hairy armpits) and went out into town. To a pub. With people I know! And nobody said anything - they didn't even seem to notice! I thought I might feel selfconscious so I brought a long-sleeved zip-up top with me, thinking I could put it over my legs if I needed to (under the guise of being cold) or wear it to cover my pits. But in actual fact, everything was fine!
And I've even reached he stage where I don't just 'not dislike' or 'not mind' the natural look - I actually like it! I'm used to the look of my legs with the soft hair on them rather than shiny and plasticcy, and y'know what? They look so much more normal! I really like it. I'm going to start wearing skirts more often! =D
That's when I realised that since the whole not shaving my legs thing started, I haven't worn a skirt or dress without tights on, or it being full-length so no one would see me legs.
And I realised then that it didn't matter anymore - I didn't care! I changed into my new shortish (above the knee) skirt and strappy top (showing off my wonderful hairy armpits) and went out into town. To a pub. With people I know! And nobody said anything - they didn't even seem to notice! I thought I might feel selfconscious so I brought a long-sleeved zip-up top with me, thinking I could put it over my legs if I needed to (under the guise of being cold) or wear it to cover my pits. But in actual fact, everything was fine!
And I've even reached he stage where I don't just 'not dislike' or 'not mind' the natural look - I actually like it! I'm used to the look of my legs with the soft hair on them rather than shiny and plasticcy, and y'know what? They look so much more normal! I really like it. I'm going to start wearing skirts more often! =D
Sunday, 6 May 2012
Freedom makes me happy. AKA 'Why poly is awesome' =P
Last night, D'Artagnan had a birthday party. It was a house party, with drinks, BBQ, and friendly people to chat to. And quite a lot of punch containing mystery a selection of miscellaneous drinks we found around the house. It was rather yummy!
Anyway, there was lots of drinking punch, talking, eating burgers, drinking more punch, and getting generically tipsy and giggly.
At possibly around 12 or 1 (I lost track of time during the evening) I ended up kissing a friend of mine, we'll call him Jacques. Kissing makes it seem like we had a bit of a snog. It kinda lasted for 2 episodes of Family Guy and part of American Dad. And that's all we were doing. There was a small amount of hair-pulling, stroking of necks etc, but we literally kissed for at least 45 minutes. Other people came in and out a couple of times, and no one said 'Oh my god, you're kissing someone other than your boyfriend!'
When I saw D'Artagnan later I told him that we'd been kissing, and he said 'I assumed that was what was happening - the talking stopped and I could hear slurping noises.' First of all - I don't "slurp" when I kiss. But anyway.
I sent Azariah a message saying I'd been kissing Jacques. He sent a message back saying that was great, but he'd just got into bed and was trying to sleep, with the tone implying 'shut up, it's the middle of the night!'
Before going to bed, Jacques said 'We should probably talk about this in the morning before I leave.'
Ah, to be around grown-up people who communicate properly about things like this! I know people who would've just upped and left in the morning, assuming that it was just a drunken one-off, or then assumed that we were going out.
This morning we sat down and said that neither of us knew what we wanted out of this, whether we wanted a relationship or were happy with the way things were. We said that we enjoyed the kissing, would like to do more of that, and would like to play together at some point in the future. Also that Jacques isn't looking for another primary partner - he has a very lovely girlfriend who I get on with who fills that spot - but he does have room for others if we do decide that that's what we want. If things happen it'll have to progress at a pace that his primary is comfortable with, as he hasn't dated other people yet while he's been with her, so this side of poly will be new for her. And that's all fine 'n' dandy, because we know where each other stands. He asked whether D'Artagnan and Azariah already knew. I said they did, and that D'artagnan had described our kissing noises as 'slurping'. Jacques laughed, kissed me some more and made slurpy noises. We laughed. Then kissed a bit more.. =P
So we're playing it by ear, and seeing what happens. But what has made me most happy are the reactions of D'Artagnan and Azariah. Last night D'Artagnan suggested I go and sleep in the other room with Jacques if I wanted to. I declined, being extremely tired and still rather drunk (and aware that the best decisions are generally not made while drunk) and just wanting my own bed.
This morning I spoke to Azariah on the phone. He made it very clear that I don't need to clear things with him first, that I'm my own person and can do what I like. He said that he trusts me to do what I want without hurting him, and that if I do make a mistake I'll tell him. This means so much to me. I know he keeps saying this, but I still check things with him because we're still relatively new to all of this. Some people might find it odd, but him saying this just makes me love him even more. Being given the freedom to be my own person, make my own choices which may or may not include being intimate (physically or emotionally) with other people makes me feel even closer to him.
So today, I feel wonderful, happy, contented and smiley. This was made even better by the sunshine and reading Terry Pratchatt books outside on a deck chair. I have no expectations at all with Jacques, and if it turns out that nothing happens again, that's also fine with me. I'm just filled to the brim with gratitude for having such wonderful people in my life!
Anyway, there was lots of drinking punch, talking, eating burgers, drinking more punch, and getting generically tipsy and giggly.
At possibly around 12 or 1 (I lost track of time during the evening) I ended up kissing a friend of mine, we'll call him Jacques. Kissing makes it seem like we had a bit of a snog. It kinda lasted for 2 episodes of Family Guy and part of American Dad. And that's all we were doing. There was a small amount of hair-pulling, stroking of necks etc, but we literally kissed for at least 45 minutes. Other people came in and out a couple of times, and no one said 'Oh my god, you're kissing someone other than your boyfriend!'
When I saw D'Artagnan later I told him that we'd been kissing, and he said 'I assumed that was what was happening - the talking stopped and I could hear slurping noises.' First of all - I don't "slurp" when I kiss. But anyway.
I sent Azariah a message saying I'd been kissing Jacques. He sent a message back saying that was great, but he'd just got into bed and was trying to sleep, with the tone implying 'shut up, it's the middle of the night!'
Before going to bed, Jacques said 'We should probably talk about this in the morning before I leave.'
Ah, to be around grown-up people who communicate properly about things like this! I know people who would've just upped and left in the morning, assuming that it was just a drunken one-off, or then assumed that we were going out.
This morning we sat down and said that neither of us knew what we wanted out of this, whether we wanted a relationship or were happy with the way things were. We said that we enjoyed the kissing, would like to do more of that, and would like to play together at some point in the future. Also that Jacques isn't looking for another primary partner - he has a very lovely girlfriend who I get on with who fills that spot - but he does have room for others if we do decide that that's what we want. If things happen it'll have to progress at a pace that his primary is comfortable with, as he hasn't dated other people yet while he's been with her, so this side of poly will be new for her. And that's all fine 'n' dandy, because we know where each other stands. He asked whether D'Artagnan and Azariah already knew. I said they did, and that D'artagnan had described our kissing noises as 'slurping'. Jacques laughed, kissed me some more and made slurpy noises. We laughed. Then kissed a bit more.. =P
So we're playing it by ear, and seeing what happens. But what has made me most happy are the reactions of D'Artagnan and Azariah. Last night D'Artagnan suggested I go and sleep in the other room with Jacques if I wanted to. I declined, being extremely tired and still rather drunk (and aware that the best decisions are generally not made while drunk) and just wanting my own bed.
This morning I spoke to Azariah on the phone. He made it very clear that I don't need to clear things with him first, that I'm my own person and can do what I like. He said that he trusts me to do what I want without hurting him, and that if I do make a mistake I'll tell him. This means so much to me. I know he keeps saying this, but I still check things with him because we're still relatively new to all of this. Some people might find it odd, but him saying this just makes me love him even more. Being given the freedom to be my own person, make my own choices which may or may not include being intimate (physically or emotionally) with other people makes me feel even closer to him.
So today, I feel wonderful, happy, contented and smiley. This was made even better by the sunshine and reading Terry Pratchatt books outside on a deck chair. I have no expectations at all with Jacques, and if it turns out that nothing happens again, that's also fine with me. I'm just filled to the brim with gratitude for having such wonderful people in my life!
Monday, 23 April 2012
Wednesday, 18 April 2012
Want some of my ice cream?
I've seen an unusually high number of articles entitles things like
How to make your man/woman feel X
10 things women do that really annoy men
10 cruel things men do to women
6 psycho things women do...
8 things that secretly turn men on...
appearing as things that my friends on facebook have read. I mean, they've actually taken time out of their day to read these sweeping generalisations damning a whole sex with the same ridiculous statements. I'm not going to dissect these and list why they're wrong, sexist, and just basically terrible - that should be pretty obvious to anyone with a brain. What I'm more amazed about is that people actually read these! Why? Do they really think that an article like this will give them some enlightening insight into their friends/partners which they'd never discovered, which they can use to their advantage? Do they think it'll somehow help them in their communications with people of that sex? Don't people realise that if you don't read them, people won't write as many of them!
People are all different! What turns one person may seem utterly revolting to someone else, and what I might find really annoying can seem adorable to other people. The amazing thing about humans is how different we all are - by trying to tar everyone (or everyone of a particular sex) with the same brush you create an image of the world which is very two-dinemsional and dull. There are people on this world who are also female but who I have absolutely nothing in common with - yet according to these articles, because of our genitalia we should act in the same way. If you feel you need to read these to understand a whole sex, you've got it all wrong - you need to treat people as individuals, and get to know them. Their personality, likes/dislikes, turn-ons, annoyances will be different to everyone else you've met. Sure, some people have similarites, but if you treat a whole sex as one object sharing the same brain, you're really not going to get far in your relations with other people.
So to my friends - I really, really hope you were reading those so that you could comment critically on the generalising and sexist nature of those articles, or just to laugh at how stupid and ill-informed they are. Seriously. Or I might have to reconsider your suitability to share in my ice-cream.
How to make your man/woman feel X
10 things women do that really annoy men
10 cruel things men do to women
6 psycho things women do...
8 things that secretly turn men on...
appearing as things that my friends on facebook have read. I mean, they've actually taken time out of their day to read these sweeping generalisations damning a whole sex with the same ridiculous statements. I'm not going to dissect these and list why they're wrong, sexist, and just basically terrible - that should be pretty obvious to anyone with a brain. What I'm more amazed about is that people actually read these! Why? Do they really think that an article like this will give them some enlightening insight into their friends/partners which they'd never discovered, which they can use to their advantage? Do they think it'll somehow help them in their communications with people of that sex? Don't people realise that if you don't read them, people won't write as many of them!
People are all different! What turns one person may seem utterly revolting to someone else, and what I might find really annoying can seem adorable to other people. The amazing thing about humans is how different we all are - by trying to tar everyone (or everyone of a particular sex) with the same brush you create an image of the world which is very two-dinemsional and dull. There are people on this world who are also female but who I have absolutely nothing in common with - yet according to these articles, because of our genitalia we should act in the same way. If you feel you need to read these to understand a whole sex, you've got it all wrong - you need to treat people as individuals, and get to know them. Their personality, likes/dislikes, turn-ons, annoyances will be different to everyone else you've met. Sure, some people have similarites, but if you treat a whole sex as one object sharing the same brain, you're really not going to get far in your relations with other people.
So to my friends - I really, really hope you were reading those so that you could comment critically on the generalising and sexist nature of those articles, or just to laugh at how stupid and ill-informed they are. Seriously. Or I might have to reconsider your suitability to share in my ice-cream.
Tuesday, 10 April 2012
You've been a bad girl...
I have a formspring account, where people ask me questions anonymously
and I will answer them. But the number of times people have said
something along the lines of "what's the dirtiest thing you've ever
done?" is rather large. And I'm always baffled when trying to come up with a
response to this. I don't view my sex life as something negative, which
is what the word dirty seems to imply. And how would one even begin to categorise
things into 'more dirty' or 'less dirty' - how does one compare sex
acts?
Ok, so obviously when people say 'ooh you dirty boy, you need punishing', they're not consciously thinking that the fact that their partner wants sex with them is bad, or they wouldn't want to 'do terrible things to them', but it still reinforces the shame and guilt felt around sex.
We hear these sorts of phrases all the time:
Why does it all have to be so negatively phrased? I guess it all falls back to the virgin/whore dichotomoy we still struggle to break free from, where virgins are good, clean girls who never have sex, and 'whores' are unclean, dirty, sexual beings. There's so much to say on this topic but that would completely derail this post. I'll try to keep to the topic at hand.
As a society we have this huge shame and guilt issue around sex, but even in the kink community, which is generally pretty good on the consent and sex-positivity side of things, falls down here.
Yes, it can be all very fun in a roleplay scenario, or during a scene for those who enjoy humiliation and other such things, but when this transcends into common useage it turns an act that can be exhilerating, beautiful, mind-blowing, intimate, euphoric, hot, and just great fun into something which make people feel shame, guilt and negativity. And this isn't because I think all sex needs to be beautiful and deep and intimate. Sure, some sex is, but some is raw and animalistic involving teeth and nails and fists. I still wouldn't call one more 'naughty' or 'bad' or 'filthy' than the other. That, to me, seems to be using completely the wrong language to talk about it.
So, instead of seeing your partner(s) in their lingerie/latex catsuit/banana costume/birthday suit/other (delete as appropriate) and saying 'You bad girl(s)/boy(s)/person/people/dinosaur, I'm going to take you upstairs and do terrible things to you', why can't we tell them how awesome they are, and how you're going to do wonderful things to them? Then you can throw them on/in the bed/cage/dungeon/garden/paddling pool and beat/fuck/tickle/glomp them silly.
Dirty = unclean.
I did some googling (I know, impressive research!) and found a definition. Just in case I was wildly wrong (unthinkable, I know!) and here's what I came up with.
Definitions of unclean:
So by saying something or someone is dirty, (assuming you don't mean they're covered in mud)you're making a few assumptions. Let's leave out the ritual definition, because I assume that people don't use that one very often in this kind of scenario (or at least, I'm not going to address it. So there.) You're assuming they
a) Have no morals, or knowingly go against morals, (I'm assuming this isn't what's meant between two people in a sexual relationship, so we'll leave that one out too)
b) Don't abstain from sex, or do have sexual intentions,
and that
c) having sex or sexual intentions is BAD!
Ok, so obviously when people say 'ooh you dirty boy, you need punishing', they're not consciously thinking that the fact that their partner wants sex with them is bad, or they wouldn't want to 'do terrible things to them', but it still reinforces the shame and guilt felt around sex.
We hear these sorts of phrases all the time:
- 'You've been a naughty girl...'
- 'I'm going to do terrible things to you...'
- 'You filthy thing...'
Why does it all have to be so negatively phrased? I guess it all falls back to the virgin/whore dichotomoy we still struggle to break free from, where virgins are good, clean girls who never have sex, and 'whores' are unclean, dirty, sexual beings. There's so much to say on this topic but that would completely derail this post. I'll try to keep to the topic at hand.
As a society we have this huge shame and guilt issue around sex, but even in the kink community, which is generally pretty good on the consent and sex-positivity side of things, falls down here.
Yes, it can be all very fun in a roleplay scenario, or during a scene for those who enjoy humiliation and other such things, but when this transcends into common useage it turns an act that can be exhilerating, beautiful, mind-blowing, intimate, euphoric, hot, and just great fun into something which make people feel shame, guilt and negativity. And this isn't because I think all sex needs to be beautiful and deep and intimate. Sure, some sex is, but some is raw and animalistic involving teeth and nails and fists. I still wouldn't call one more 'naughty' or 'bad' or 'filthy' than the other. That, to me, seems to be using completely the wrong language to talk about it.
So, instead of seeing your partner(s) in their lingerie/latex catsuit/banana costume/birthday suit/other (delete as appropriate) and saying 'You bad girl(s)/boy(s)/person/people/dinosaur, I'm going to take you upstairs and do terrible things to you', why can't we tell them how awesome they are, and how you're going to do wonderful things to them? Then you can throw them on/in the bed/cage/dungeon/garden/paddling pool and beat/fuck/tickle/glomp them silly.
Being overlooked
So a couple of weeks ago I damaged the soft tissue in my ankle. I've been on crutches to keep the weight off it while it's healing, and mostly people have been very helpful - holding open doors for me when they see me behind them, holding the lift, letting me go first etc. Because I'm just one of them, but I'm temporarily hurt. It's nice that people are being helpful.
On Monday I had a day in London with some of my family. We were going to the Natural History Museum, and my mum suggested we borrowed a wheelchair rather than me hobbling around on my foot all day, so that I didn't get too tired. Great idea, I thought.
So I got into a chair, and started wheeling myself around. After the first few moments of 'Woo, this is fun! Look, I can go backwards! I can turn this way too!' it got a bit tiring on my arms. Then I started to notice a shift in people's attitudes and even perceptions towards me. I was no longer 'one of them', who needed their assistance. I was an object that was in their way. Everyone looked over the top of my head, apart from the children for whom I was at eye-level with, but even they regarded me differently. I was now 'other'. When people realised they'd been standing in front of me blocking my view (it was rather loud and saying excuse me didn't always get heard) instead of acknoledging me, saying something like 'oh I'm sorry', or 'I'll be out of your way in a minute', they muttered under their breaths to the people with them and quickly moved out of the way embarrassedly. It was like I wasn't a person to be interacted with, I was differently-abled, and therefore 'other' and 'different'.
I was having to be careful of my foot - the thing which hurt, and was also the most protruding part of me and easiest to trip over - while wheeling myself around. People backed into me, or just stepped over my extended leg to get to places. No one said 'excuse me'. In fact, no one other than my family said anything to me. I felt quite invisible.
I was only in a wheelchair for 3 hours, and in a few weeks I'll probably be off crutches as well, but I experienced a huge shift in attitude towards those in wheelchairs which I hadn't been conscious of before. It's hurts to think that some people must live their lives experiencing this kind of prejudice. Why aren't people just treated as people? I'm definitely going to make sure that when I'm having a happy, 'smile-at-everyone' day, I smile at everyone.
On Monday I had a day in London with some of my family. We were going to the Natural History Museum, and my mum suggested we borrowed a wheelchair rather than me hobbling around on my foot all day, so that I didn't get too tired. Great idea, I thought.
So I got into a chair, and started wheeling myself around. After the first few moments of 'Woo, this is fun! Look, I can go backwards! I can turn this way too!' it got a bit tiring on my arms. Then I started to notice a shift in people's attitudes and even perceptions towards me. I was no longer 'one of them', who needed their assistance. I was an object that was in their way. Everyone looked over the top of my head, apart from the children for whom I was at eye-level with, but even they regarded me differently. I was now 'other'. When people realised they'd been standing in front of me blocking my view (it was rather loud and saying excuse me didn't always get heard) instead of acknoledging me, saying something like 'oh I'm sorry', or 'I'll be out of your way in a minute', they muttered under their breaths to the people with them and quickly moved out of the way embarrassedly. It was like I wasn't a person to be interacted with, I was differently-abled, and therefore 'other' and 'different'.
I was having to be careful of my foot - the thing which hurt, and was also the most protruding part of me and easiest to trip over - while wheeling myself around. People backed into me, or just stepped over my extended leg to get to places. No one said 'excuse me'. In fact, no one other than my family said anything to me. I felt quite invisible.
I was only in a wheelchair for 3 hours, and in a few weeks I'll probably be off crutches as well, but I experienced a huge shift in attitude towards those in wheelchairs which I hadn't been conscious of before. It's hurts to think that some people must live their lives experiencing this kind of prejudice. Why aren't people just treated as people? I'm definitely going to make sure that when I'm having a happy, 'smile-at-everyone' day, I smile at everyone.
Saturday, 24 March 2012
Bodily Autonomy
For reasons out of my grasp, I ended up watch '10 years younger' and found myself disgusted by the attitudes on it! For those who haven't had the misfortune of watching it, a woman (it's almost always a woman) who looks her age is taken out into public, where people give their opinions of how old they think she is.
The average is taken, and it's always older than her actual age, and this is terrible! You wouldn't want people to know that you have lived your life, that you have experiences and memories and a personality! All that matters is that people see you as a blonde, twenty-something person with a very stretched, poisoned forehead with no working facial muscles.
The woman, having been told she looks older than she is and that this is terrible, is told that she needs surgery, a hair cut, younger looking clothes, more makeup to hide her face, and if she has grey hairs and is actually aging normally?! Dye it, quickly, before anyone realises that you're not 25 anymore!
Because god forbid that people realise that you're human and therefore not immortal or in possession of eternal youth. What is it with the obsession of covering one's grey hairs? What happened to growing old gracefully? Obviously that's still a possibility for men, what with the 'silver fox' image, and articles like this letting us know that women 'just look older' with grey hair, while men can look 'hunky'. *sigh*
The woman I watched, having had her face sliced and diced, was told that she needed a new haircut. She had long hair. She asked for it to be kept long, but just restyled, or trimmed. The hairdresser put his hand where he was about to cut, and said 'how's that?'. She said 'no, I'd like it about here please', putting her hand a little lower down. He nodded, and proceeded to cut where he wanted to, then showed it to her. 'How's that?' he said. She looked horrified, and said 'No, put it back!' slightly jokingly, because obviously she realised that that was impossible, but - she said no! She specifically said that she didn't want this to be done to her, and he went ahead and did it anyway. Because y'know, he knows best, he's the hairdresser, she's just an old, unfashionable woman!
Which gets me on to this. Women's bodies are seen as public property. If society doesn't like something about you - your fashion sense, your haircut, your face - they will change it for you. Because you don't get a say about your own body. I've seen women brought onto things like the Jeremy Kyle show who'd been growing their hair all of their lives. It was long and it was their pride and joy. Their families didn't like it, they said it 'got in the way', or 'made them look older', and they cut it. On live TV. While the women cried their eyes out, protested and told them to stop. But their families didn't like it, and it's only hair, so what were they making such a big fuss about?
If this is the sort of attitude that society has towards women's bodies, then it's no wonder that things like rape are so often dismissed, trivialised, given other names. 'Grey rape', as a term, shouldn't even exist. And it's because our bodies aren't our own, so why would people even need our consent?
The average is taken, and it's always older than her actual age, and this is terrible! You wouldn't want people to know that you have lived your life, that you have experiences and memories and a personality! All that matters is that people see you as a blonde, twenty-something person with a very stretched, poisoned forehead with no working facial muscles.
The woman, having been told she looks older than she is and that this is terrible, is told that she needs surgery, a hair cut, younger looking clothes, more makeup to hide her face, and if she has grey hairs and is actually aging normally?! Dye it, quickly, before anyone realises that you're not 25 anymore!
Because god forbid that people realise that you're human and therefore not immortal or in possession of eternal youth. What is it with the obsession of covering one's grey hairs? What happened to growing old gracefully? Obviously that's still a possibility for men, what with the 'silver fox' image, and articles like this letting us know that women 'just look older' with grey hair, while men can look 'hunky'. *sigh*
The woman I watched, having had her face sliced and diced, was told that she needed a new haircut. She had long hair. She asked for it to be kept long, but just restyled, or trimmed. The hairdresser put his hand where he was about to cut, and said 'how's that?'. She said 'no, I'd like it about here please', putting her hand a little lower down. He nodded, and proceeded to cut where he wanted to, then showed it to her. 'How's that?' he said. She looked horrified, and said 'No, put it back!' slightly jokingly, because obviously she realised that that was impossible, but - she said no! She specifically said that she didn't want this to be done to her, and he went ahead and did it anyway. Because y'know, he knows best, he's the hairdresser, she's just an old, unfashionable woman!
Which gets me on to this. Women's bodies are seen as public property. If society doesn't like something about you - your fashion sense, your haircut, your face - they will change it for you. Because you don't get a say about your own body. I've seen women brought onto things like the Jeremy Kyle show who'd been growing their hair all of their lives. It was long and it was their pride and joy. Their families didn't like it, they said it 'got in the way', or 'made them look older', and they cut it. On live TV. While the women cried their eyes out, protested and told them to stop. But their families didn't like it, and it's only hair, so what were they making such a big fuss about?
If this is the sort of attitude that society has towards women's bodies, then it's no wonder that things like rape are so often dismissed, trivialised, given other names. 'Grey rape', as a term, shouldn't even exist. And it's because our bodies aren't our own, so why would people even need our consent?
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