I'm going to do a risky thing and re-open my box of heavy duty jibba-jabba, to talk about a thought I have just had.
What really pisses me off about all my squicky feelings, besides the terror that I'm going to fuck up the best relationship of my lifetime just by having them, is the fact that I want to be sex positive. I feel like I'm charging at a brick wall with all my might and bouncing off of it here.
I just read a thing on fetlife by a photographer about a project she's doing. A gallery thing, with a coffee table book for sale, too. She's getting up close pics of women's genitals, combining them with flowers in reference to romantic imagery of historical literature. And I just sample-read the opening chapters of "Come As You Are" on Kindle, and there is talk of how regardless the appearance of your lady parts, there's such a wide spectrum of normal and beautiful. About how terminology, ideas, instead of being purely biological as they should be, got culturally warped into this dichotomy where men's parts were out in front, a thing of pride, and women's are hidden, for shame. I have always, since sometime in the vicinity of puberty, thought of mine as kind of gross and disgusting. It's really hard to think of that part of me as
beautiful. Some women are. Those where there isn't much to see, a nice neat line, with perhaps a flash of pure virgin pink, nothing to look wrinkled or darkened or stubbly or anything like that. So I'm not wild about my body. I can join the club, despite how perfect so many of the girls on the internet look, I know that most women I know and speak to, are pretty critical of theirs, too.
I remember an instance where a photographer friend of Fire's was visiting. He was getting a collection of pictures of the clitoris, from many women, for an art project, and I was asked to participate. And I did. Mostly in the spirit of being a good sport and WANTING to be sex positive. TRYING to love myself, though it churns my gut. It made me really uncomfortable. The pics were so up close it was very anonymous, and I was able to see them all, but shame wasn't the issue. After a lot of processing I realized that the problem was,
I didn't know the guy. He'd been really stand-offish the whole weekend, and came off almost like he was unhappy...in all likelihood it was some combination of introversion and altitude sickness. But when it came to the photo shoot, I was so uncomfortable...because this guy was a stranger. I'm uncomfortable at obgyn appointments for similar reasons. I don't like feeling vulnerable and exposed, with people I feel strange to and with. Like if they know me, I won't be judged on the merits of what they see, alone? I will get "kindness points" for familiarity perhaps?
But I'm an exhibitionist at the club, because I feel comfortable, safe, familiar there...even though some people might be strangers, and they might see me, there is a grace that exists through those dungeon doors. I am extremely grateful. It's probably the only place I go where I do feel sex positive. Well, Zen's bed, too. Honestly I feel almost guilty for having these hangups when I'm there. They seem so trivial.
So I grew up forming too much of my sexuality on crafting an experience for others, and on listening to what boys said they wanted (and being upset and confused as hell by it all) ... Boys would lie, beg, bargain, do anything to get a girl to give the sex...and then often enough it seemed, as I often overheard, they'd punish her for it. Shame her among themselves. Why? It's what they wanted? What if she wanted it, too? Why was getting laid a point of pride for a boy, and shame for a girl?
The way I coped with that in my youth, was to take on a masculine and Dominant attitude. I was evil and aggressive, and their shame couldn't touch me. Snarling at the world in my leather trench coat and combat boots. To be a pretty girl, an innocent, in lace and flowers, was to invite trolling, abuse, mockery. So I would not be weak. Simple enough. The closest to feminine I wanted to come was the demeanor of an elegant older lady like my Aunt Jeanette. A dignified creature with a spine of steel. I can still do haughty untouchable elegance if I want, too. Led to the mistake of my marriage in part, he loved me and I didn't give a damn, so I felt like I was in control. Until I clearly wasn't.
Once though, I was a virgin girl with a room full of seashells and unicorns. A different lifetime. The idea of exploring "girly-ness" is terrifying to me. I remember hearing the way the boys talked. And wanting only to be liked by other people. I did not have that, then. But like so many things that make me scared or uncomfortable, there are elements to "girly innocence" that live in the realm of my own fantasies, too. I feel like in order to get off, I have to touch on subjects that discomfort me. That is on occasion one of them.
Sex positive. What does that mean? Are the women on fetlife who are showing the world their bodies, sex positive? I mean, pictures and videos, once they get on the internet, they can go anywhere. My coworkers could find them. My sons could find them one day. I'm far more "out" about what I'm into with lots and lots of people, than most folks I know...but see, I can tell the women at work that I go to a fetish club, tell them what I do, and that does not mean I'm alright with porn of me being passed around my office. I imagine the men, men I don't know, and don't want, leering at me. Like they've had sex with me, but I never consented to it, and if they continue to have access to the material, then they can do it again and again. I have surrendered my agency and ownership, given away my rights to my own sexuality. It's awful, that thought. I don't like it.
Does sex positive mean I need to get comfortable with all of the uncomfortable things? Learn to be so proud of my body that I'm alright with sharing it with the whole damn world like that? Does the fact that some of my discomforts came from bad messages, or cruel social double standards, mean that I need to discard them, overcome them? And how on earth is it, that the women I know who are so far in the closet about kink that they can see Narnia, are ok posting that stuff on fetlife? Do they not understand that anyone could steal that content and share it anywhere? Do people really imagine that the internet is
private? I mean, I could lose my job over something like that. I'd bet, like even though I can get away with telling half the office about my sex life, if a sex video of me showed up, I'd get terminated immediately.
It's like the world demands one thing, and the world demands another thing, and they are in utter conflict but I've got to BE both/all somehow. And I've been trying to figure that shit out since puberty. It probably bears mentioning that I'm not very comfortable about compartmentalizing. Being one person here and a different person there. I prefer to be my own genuine self anywhere. But I still struggle with the whole: Be a lady and a slut and a Mom and a neuter in the workplace and don't be such a prude, but if you share too much and get shamed/judged/raped/whatever you were asking for it, so be sex positive, but protect yourself, don't dress that way for other men, but why do you always wear jeans and sweatshirts, can't you be pretty for me?, know how to please, but be an innocent, be vulnerable, but accept that it's a fun joke when I use it against you...that's the world of my experience as a female in our general society. People pleasing? Of course! Because if you don't then no one will love you. Now I suppose it might be peaceful to be alone with my cat, sometimes I think so, but the fact is I'm too extroverted to be ok with that for very long. And now I'm in the first phase of my life where my needs get to really be important...and I have no idea what to do or who to be.
All I can say is that I have worn pink underwear for Zen and I don't think he has any idea how big a deal that actually is. I still don't know how to roleplay innocence. If that's what he wants. But I'm wearing girly underwear for a change, because he likes it. And because I trust him. And for the first time, right now, right here in this very moment, I think I understand the whole Daddy-Dom/little girl dynamic just a bit. I always thought the "littes" thing was kind of creepy. Like instead of sexualizing children, they were childifying sex...somehow. The blending of themes of childhood and themes of sexuality, which should be for adults. Weird! Not my kink! But there is a vulnerability in sharing your inner child. Maybe it's just about the exchange of trust in that. Acknowledging that any part of me is, or ever has been, a GIRL...that once I was a girl with seashells and unicorns in her room...that the hardened snarly surly teen who did not give a fuck what anyone said ever, is not the first incarnation of who I am and that deep down, I can actually be hurt...and not just by myself... Well, that's scary. Feels like I've spent so long protecting myself that now that I don't have to, it's tough to figure out just what to do, how to feel, or who to be.
Again, I've spent so long just reacting that I barely know who to be when I'm not.
I just took another run at the wall. And the wall was not there. And I promptly fell right on my face. But...I don't THINK...that I broke anything...
In other news of life, the universe, and everything, last night was wonderful. Zen is so good to me, and I love him so much. And...I'm his girl. *shrug*
