The story of Spork.

Zen was wonderful last night. I think I might share, in an album here, a picture of us that was taken at the NYE party. I love the look on my face. I try really hard to put into words the way he makes me feel, and I half-think that I sound like a crazy person when I do. It's like his energy and my energy interact in this really exciting and compatible sort of harmony...it is thrilling and peaceful at the same time and fills me with such joy. It's why I cannot keep my hands off of him, I want to be all over him all the time.

I have been at times afraid that the intensity of how I feel and the way I act will be annoying and clingy to him, like sitting here thinking about it, I can fear that a little bit, intellectually, I worry that I should tone it down. But when we're together, I absolutely don't, because it seems he is the same way. We cannot get enough of one another.


So. I am going, today, to peel back another layer on my discomfort. This one is not flattering. It makes me look petty and jealous. It brings my ego into all of this.

I'm not very good at...woman-ing. Girl-ing. Doing pretty, feminine things. I cannot wear high heels because my feet have a slight defect...bony bunions, I was born with 'em, and there is nothing that can be done. But too much pressure on the ball of my foot, by my toes, causes me AGONY. Elevating the heel puts my weight on that part of my foot and triggers extreme pain. I only recently discovered this fact...always thought other women just put up with the pain and got used to it...no, they don't hurt as much as I hurt. I'm a masochist for godssakes, with a pretty high pain threshold, I should have known earlier in life that there was more to it than me being bad at being a woman, not willing to suffer enough to be beautiful. I'm in much more pain than most women when I wear heels. And I won't put myself through it.

I don't wear makeup. For some reason, even when I've bought expensive products, I put it on, and within a couple of hours if that, I feel like it's turned to cruddy crud on my face. It doesn't feel good and it doesn't look good. It only looks good for a very short time (in my eyes and my opinion) when I put it on. After that, it's just an ugly mess. I like my face much better without it. So I don't bother with it, since clearly I don't know how to do whatever it is other women do to make it work out.

I'm not shaped right. I've already talked about this. My body has never had the right shape. When I was younger, I had better bosoms but my butt was thin and small and flat and I had boyish hips. Now I have hips, but my backside is flattish and not plump and round as it should be, and I have lame and small breasts since breastfeeding my sons years ago. I do my best to keep my stomach reasonably flat and my body slim, but I'm scared to death because I can't "diet" like other women due to my food issues and I have a hard time making time for exercise. What if I get fat? All of the other women in my family are. And I have a litany of flaws that mean that I can and will never be a proper beauty.

I'm clumsy and not graceful. I can't dance or sing.

And I am not even going to get into my perceived shortcomings in bed. But there are definitely some things there, too, that make me feel LESS when it comes to my worth as a woman for a man to want or love.

So I cannot use the scale of worth and value, of "pretty" and "beautiful" women, the usual social rules that the masses adhere to, I cannot. BUT! My mind is pretty good. I can be funny, quirky, a silly fun character. I have good taste in entertainment (in my own opinion) and I can show someone a fun time, and participate in fun discussions. I connect well with others, everybody likes me when they meet me. I'm nerdy and geeky and comfortable to interact with. I'm wise and give good advice, and I'm caring and compassionate. I can be very loyal and loving, understanding and forgiving.

I don't have low self esteem, exactly. There are in fact parts of myself that I love a LOT. But I think of myself as "cool" and not "hot." I'm not the hot chick but I can be a cool person. I don't see myself as arbitrarily inferior, in fact if anything I think of myself as superior in some ways, and I personally place more weight upon the things that I care about.

But I feel like it's a hopeless cause when it comes to men, and sadly they are the ones I want love from. I crave the love of a man, despite the fact that I do like women, too, I am more straight than not...but I feel like I cannot expect a man to love me for the reasons I love myself. I can pretend to be what they want, but it's a sham. Inside...I'm not. I'm me. When a man says that I am pretty or beautiful...I don't know how to feel. How can they not understand, that I can't compete on that stage. The world is chock full of women that are so much more beautiful than me, and many of them are all too happy to show you everything they've got. Why would you look at me? I'm not...that. I'm something else.

And I'm only going to get older. My looks will depart further and further from the "standard" of what feminine beauty means. My eyes see beauty everywhere...in all kinds of people...but I don't expect most men to. I figure they just settle, most of them, for the best that they can "get."

Except when they...don't... So I started going to the BDSM scene and I saw really heavy women getting play and partners and attention, and older women, and older men, and just all sorts of people really. Actually, most of the girls are at minimum what the fashion industry would call plus sized. And the men like them! So I assume that our community has smart people who are more flexible in their ideas of what is lovely, or...or...something. The normal rules aren't in play. It is a different world in there, somehow. A wonderful one.

And you know at first I felt ugly because I was so skinny. No one wants to smack a bony ass, and so many womanly curves everywhere. I envied the heavy women at the club. Very much.

But Zen likes my body. Fire does. Hefe and Analyst do, and Supernova. Supernova. It's very "facepalm" to me...he wants to have sex with me and he's on about it all the damn time, and he only wants it because he's never had it. Like the guy has had sex with lots of women, and I want to be like "dude seriously, you'd be disappointed. I'm no different from the hundred other women you've banged, less if anything than many, I'm clumsy and I'm not amazing. Stop. You're chasing something that isn't worth your time, dude." I'm never going to wear high heels or makeup or be able to dance. I'm barely a proper woman at all.

So... It's not hard for me to have faith in being liked or even loved. But it's very hard for me to have faith in being sexually desirable, or sexually satisfying. I mean, on the surface maybe for like a minute, but underneath, once somebody gets a close look and starts seeing everything that is wrong with the model I drive around... Guys' dicks don't respond to smart or funny or kind or character. They respond to symmetry and proportion and shapes and motions...all of the signals of "woman", and I feel very deficient in that area. And I feel that while I've been able to wow people up front sometimes, I let them down sooner or later.

I think that is the...ultimate answer?...as to why I am uncomfortable about porn and strip clubs. It sort of highlights all of my deficiencies and punches me in my weakest areas. Makes me feel inside like admitting defeat and slinking away because I can't be these...Things that Woman Should Be.

But then look at the idea of my male lover having another woman, honestly in a V situation I'd probably be pretty insecure. I'd compare myself to her. But in a triad, whether a relationship or just a sexual encounter, if I could say that she is also Mine, she sees me and likes me, and I like her, and we're into each other, then yeah that'd be fine and good. So like Fire is in many ways the Woman that I am not and cannot be. But she and I had good juju flowing between us, in my opinion, in fact I am and was more invested in her feelings towards me, than I was the men in the quad...I never felt threatened by her or diminished by her. I wasn't jealous of her. I love her.

I think I'm getting better at exploring my thoughts without feeling miserable feelings in connection. Trying to process stuff intellectually instead of emotionally...
 
And...forgive me the volume of my posts, I beg, but it is my blog and this is what I need it for...

This is the emotional part.
I'm going to be a bit florid and use an analogy. It's over the top but it makes the point, I think.

Imagine a movie where there is a crowd of folks at some sort of a dance thing, and a shy girl, and she's hiding out in the shadows because she's clumsy and you can't easily see it but she's very flawed and not like other people. She's shy, she's an artist, she loves books more than flowers and fancy things. She is comfortable in conversation, but not being expected to...perform. She certainly can not dance. She stands in the shadows with paint under her nails and she watches the other girls, so graceful and perfect, and wonders what it would be like, to glide around like that. She can't imagine, because her body doesn't move that way.

In the movie, or story, the most popular and rich and handsome young man comes galloping up to her like a golden stallion and takes her hand and magically she's the most beautiful girl in the room, and somehow even though she didn't think she could and she never learned, she knows all the steps.

But real life isn't like the movie. In real life, she gets dragged, terrified and protesting, out in front of everyone. They're all staring, waiting for the magic to happen, and she bumbles around for a moment but fails to magically know the steps. She retreats in humiliation and runs out of the room. Feeling a mix of mortification and anger at herself for even going to the dance, resolves to do what she's good at and avoid those things. Stay at home and make art. Go to discussions where you can talk and show off your mind. Don't try to compete with the pretty gliding swans, little duck, little sparrow. What a foolish thing.

The handsome prince of the story would humiliate and mock her. She doesn't like handsome princes. Or mean swans.

The happy ending would be a man who loves and appreciates her truly for what she is. But deep down she suspects they all just wish she'd learn the dance and be like the other girls. She doesn't know what they'd see in her, not really, and when she talks to them and they seem so interested, she thinks, "he is imagining me in the role of dancer, and doesn't understand that I can't be that. I don't think he is seeing ME at all."

That analogy pretty accurately describes how I feel about the entire dance of human sexuality and trying to be feminine and womanish and all of the institutions that sell sex to eager consumers and the whole damn thing.

Except for Zen. Because we can talk together and laugh together. He enjoys topping me and I enjoy bottoming for him. And he hasn't exactly spent his life doing a ton of dancing either. And he makes me feel amazing things. For the first time I feel like when a man is telling me that I am beautiful, it's not because he's imagining the day I magically know the steps, which is a day that will never come...he's not painting over me with an illusion. Maybe he actually looks at me and sees something pretty, and it's ok that I'm not all fancy plumage and graceful gliding...that I'm a sparrow and not a swan, because I'm HIS.

At least, well...I hope.
 
I can't wear high heels because of balance issues. I don't wear makeup because to me, it isn't worth the time to put it on, fuck it up, remove it, try again... I just am not able to do it right. I've been told I think more like a guy than a woman. I'm about 30 pounds overweight but have excess skin from losing weight over a decade ago, and my ties are so small I have to wear a padded bra to look like I have any. And in a world where some men apparently prize sexually confident women, I still have trouble talking about sex and asking for sexual things with my committed partners, let alone anyone else. And socially, I'm just a mess.

All of which is a long way of saying I know how you feel, and you aren't alone.
 
Spork I think you and your blog are so great and I've been meaning to say so for a long time.

It seems like you're conflating two different things here. Men might be attracted to them, but they don't give love to porn or body parts. They give love to people. I certainly believe the internet has opened my eyes to the fact that there are a lot more gross men in the world than I thought from personal experience, but there are a lot of decent ones. Plenty of men do see women as people and want to have relationships with people. Plenty of men are looking for someone cool to share their life with.

I completely relate to the not womanly or girly enough thing. I spent all week shopping for a dress to wear to this party (and failing) and every time I've asked his opinion he'll say he thinks I look really cute in some sweatshirt I have. I feel like a failure because I'm in my 30s and never figured out make up. He prefers women who wear very little make up but it still doesn't click for me. I want to be pretty for him. He can and does "get" women who are far more attractive than me. That feels weird and its hard to believe he would want me but he obviously does. Even so I don't think I'll ever be hot like other women. But I taught him how to shit in the woods and he loves me for it.

It's possible you're seeing the BDSM community as more open to different types because you're seeing people put their sexuality on display. I certainly find it hard to imagine the majority of people I see everyday having a sex life but most of them do. So it's not just standard attractive people who are having sex either.
 
unreasonable beauty standards

Hello, Spork!

This is my very first post on this forum. I've been lurking here for a couple of years, and, over the fast few weeks, I have read your blog in its entirety. I feel compelled to weigh in on your most recent post. The thing that stands out for me the most is your lack of love for your physical being.

I am someone who has never been the most beautiful woman in the room. If I'm compared to American societal standards of beauty, I fall short. I have a big nose, weak jawline, prominent vericose & spider veins, serious chicken wings under my arms, jiggly thighs, flat cellulite butt. I've gained & lost weight so many times that my neck has gone a little crepy & my boobs sag. I've gained weight over the winter, and I'm forty, so my skin has lost its elasticity. When I lose it again, my stomach will droop a bit. I don't shave my legs. My hair is flat on top, with no volume.

This is all true.

I also have a gorgeous smile, an infectious laugh, a direct gaze, a pretty face. Strangers have often complimented the timbre of my voice, which is made both for radio and smoking hot sex talk. My skin is extremely soft & feels good to stroke. My calves and thighs are strong from cycling. I have an elegant old world profile, with a graceful line from my neck to my shoulders. My hands are strong, skilled, and lovely. My long wavy hair cascades over my shoulders when I ride my lover. The twentysomethings who hit on me are often shocked to find out that I'm ten years older than they thought.

My partner adores me and my body. He prefers curvy ladies who look Italian or Jewish. He often compliments my strong back, tells me how much he loves my "gorgeous face."

This is all true.

As Hamlet put it, "there is nothing either good nor bad, but thinking makes it so." Your lover is not inside your head & cannot see what you think about yourself. He can only observe what HE sees & thinks & feels, which is likely a very different story. There is no objective reality, it is a matter of perspective. You do not have to believe that you are beautiful, but you could attempt to believe that your lover finds you beautiful. Perhaps this change of view could help?
 
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another thought

Also, my partner is attracted to ME, not just my body. He's been with more beautiful women. Those relationships didn't work for him, as those beautiful women didn't offer him the stability, openness, kindness & clear communication that I do.

He loves that he is able to feel safe with me, that we can nerd out about our shared & separate interests, that we can debate without arguing. He is attracted to my intellect, my love of books, language, and learning, my singing voice. He loves that we cook dinner together & dance around the kitchen while singing. He is attracted to the affection and understanding that we share.

I'm not listing all these things to puff myself up, merely to illustrate that I am / you are / we all are more than the sum of our physical parts. It sounds as though you & Zen share much more together than base physical attraction.

It took a long time for me to shut down the shitty internal voice of negative self-talk. It may take you much longer. But you are smart, funny, interesting, loyal, and loving - I can tell this much from your words alone. I'd be willing to bet that others see that in you, and more.
 
Thank you so much. You can't see, but I'm smiling even though my eyes are trying to mist a bit. That's just it. Zen DOES love me. I feel it and believe it and don't doubt it. The whole thing feels more real than any connection I've ever had with another human being, and I've attempted plenty. This is special. It's new and unique and precious and amazing.

I did post the picture of us. It's in my profile albums. For now it is publicly available to be seen...I could change that, and make it private to contacts only, but I don't feel I have cause to do that right now. If Zen wants me to though I will. For now, you can see it, anyone can.

He makes me feel like a plant soaking up the sunshine. And you can see it, I think, in that picture. My brain was humming, in that moment.

And that's just it...this is different. For the first time, I really feel like he's looking deeper and he's seeing me, and for the first time, every wall that I put up to protect myself is down with him. I think he loves something real in me, as I love the real man in him. All the depth and color, the feeling and philosophy, all the world behind his eyes. I'm in love with all of that. And I believe in his love of me. I only occasionally feel a bit...insufficient...when it comes to him and us, and that is a matter too personal to share here. But we are working on that, he and I.

But sometimes you have to go to a dark place to find what you're looking for. I need to shine some light into some dark corners. It sounds like self loathing, but it's not...again, I love myself for what I perceive myself to be.

I love myself quite a lot, actually. Enough that I make fun of myself over it sometimes.

And I believe in Zen's love of me.

So what is left is to try and lay to rest this sense of discomfort, in that part of male sexuality that enjoys just looking at women's bodies without any interest in the person inside...that's where the real struggle is. I don't do that, don't get it. Even in my fantasy of being touched by anonymous others...and how am I connecting with them, if I'm blindfolded and don't know who they are, right??...I am in their heads imagining their thoughts and feelings. It's a sort of energy loop.

Had a post regarding sapiosexuality on Facebook today, and I commented on the long thread of comments (it was a clickbait article, lots of comments.) Plenty of people chimed in saying that sapiosexuality wasn't a real thing, that looks always come first. They figure that if you're not drawn to the appearance of someone, you won't even take the time to hear them and learn who they are. Not true for me. There is a floor of attractiveness, where bad hygiene and other extremes of unappealing-ness will put me off enough to turn me away...but it's got to be pretty extreme. If a person passes that fairly generous threshold, they get to talk...if they don't say or do anything that seriously puts me off, there is a chance, we might connect mentally, and if the connection is strong, if the mental compatibility and the maturity and the feelings and energy are there...that person, even if very mediocre to look at, will then look to my eyes like the most beautiful thing in all of creation.

For me, the mental and the emotional and even...spiritual, I guess...all influence whether I find someone "attractive." Much, much more than looks. I know people, such as the musician Voltaire, I can acknowledge are gorgeous to look at, and I wouldn't want anything to do with trying to date or have sex with them. Because I sensed that the connection mind to mind or heart to heart could not exist. So looking at them is like looking at a pretty cloud or something. I am not filled with any urge to do anything with or about that. "Yes, he's very pretty. I don't actually CARE, but sure."

So the visual stimulation thing, and I know it isn't just men, I know women who love porn and I know women who love looking at standard-sexy men, well it is foreign to me. It's a thing I don't get. Which is another reason I'm...distrustful, I guess...of it. Being a bit afraid of what I don't understand.

A lot of this process is me sort of poking different ideas with a stick and seeing if it hurts or not. And if it does, I pause and explore the discomfort and try to analyze it a little. It probably looks like I'm really torturing myself, and I'm sorry if anyone finds it hard to read. ?? But I'm hoping to journey to a more healthy place once all of the scary, hurtful triggers are laid bare in the light of day.

The place that I begin to waver is, as I mentioned in talking to Magdlyn, is...how to heal? I hope that Zen will help me with that. I'm cleaning the wounds here, but I need to heal them. I'm not sure if I can do that alone.

Anyhow, I am deeply grateful for those who read what I write, and who share their perspectives. Deeply, muchly and truly, from the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU. <3
 
That picture is truly beautuful. And your Zen looks nothing like I had expected! You have talked before about how you don't think others see his attractiveness... How could anyone miss it??? ;)
 
GirlFromTexlahoma said:
That picture is truly beautuful. And your Zen looks nothing like I had expected! You have talked before about how you don't think others see his attractiveness... How could anyone miss it??? ;)
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Well thank you! I see it. I mean I dunno, he's not some 20 or 30 something with like, chiseled abs and tattoos. But I wouldn't want that guy. I think that Zen is very sexy.

We had a moment not long ago at a party where Fire and I were standing together, she wanted to watch a couple who were wrestling, doing "takedown play" (it's just people in their underwear or nude, wrestling on mats on the floor)...and she mentioned to me how hot she found the guy in that couple to be. I could acknowledge that he was...conventionally attractive? Like something out of a magazine? But not my type.

Funny thing, when I first broke up with my ex, I thought I wanted a guy about my age, with long hair, piercings and ink. An eye catcher, a head turner. A real rebel, Dottie! (Sorry, having a Pee Wee moment there--I am SUCH a nerd.) But the more I talked to people, the more I realized that I wanted someone older, I couldn't relate to people my own age. And I wanted someone who was unique on the inside, not flashing rebel cred on the outside. My ideas about attractiveness shifted very dramatically in a matter of months.

But I was visiting an idea that I'd had sealed up in a box in the dark since I was 18. I had to do a quick spot of growing up, I guess. I tried to connect with a few that I thought fit my initial idea of what I wanted...and interest turned into "meh, no" within minutes of talking to them.

My initial thought about Zen was "hmm...interesting...yeah, I think I could go there..." and then layer by layer as we got to know one another better, he became more and more appealing to me over time, until we hit a point of full saturation, critical mass, a bomb went off, I don't know...and now, yeah. The young rebels with their abs can fuck right off. Sexy is my lover's face and the touch of his hands, his voice and his silver hair.

So yeah though I don't know who sees what, I'm in love, in all its glorious silliness. I see what I see.
 
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So there it is, as much as I make fun of this thing of having a word for every kind of attraction, sexual behavior, and shade of spectrum under the damn sun... "You're a sapiosexual, polyamorous, genderfluid, straightedge, furry vegan Volkswagon? Whatnow?" ...the fact is, sapiosexual or demisexual or something encompassing both or in between, is probably what applies most to me. I've always felt like my attractions to other people haven't been always respected or understood. Part of that was my Mom. She likes younger, hispanic (preferably) dumb and pretty guys. Like she's happy if they don't even speak English! She wants them nice to look at and she seriously doesn't care if there's anything going on between their ears at all. No need to connect that way.

And I'm repelled by that.

And she's given me a hard time for some of the guys I've been with, and I finally had to accept that our attractions simply don't function the same way, at all.

There is no way I could date someone if there was a language barrier. No fucking way. I have to be able to have all sorts of conversations and really dig into their mind and stories, or I'm just not attracted, and I don't care how "good looking" they are.

OK so Zen asked me to think about defining porn, and differentiating from "erotica" or visual stuff that I do find appealing.

Here is another thing. I find pornography to be unflattering to the people involved, more often than not. They just don't look nice. You know how sometimes you get a picture taken and you're making a stupid face or something and you're like, "ugh, I want this picture GONE before anyone sees it!" Well most porn looks that way to me. The faces they make, the lighting is usually horrible, it's just not appealing, and if I were one of those women, I'd think, "Ugh, I look awful and gross in that, why would anyone want to see that picture." It's not flattering!

So like you take this beautiful person...and render them gross and strip away the cool humanity...yeah, I'm not getting it. What is beautiful? Well, much of Zen's art collection is beautiful. Or funny. Or has some kind of aesthetic appeal and interest. It's invested with the human depth and spirit of having been created by an artist. Then there are the sex scenes in mainstream movies and TV that I like. The people are beautiful and the light is flattering and there is this expression of passion there...the gasping and the light and shadow on muscles and the motions of sensuality... And that, to me, is vastly different from repetitive bounce-bounce-poke-poke-ah-ah-ah.

Next step down into that idea...

I have mentioned before that I've had lots of sex. Many partners. I guess maybe this is different for some people. But most of those encounters, I did not get off, I did not even feel that good. I enjoyed the tension, the pursuit, the lead up, there were things that were fun about it. But once it came to the actual act...I was putting on a performance, pleasing the guy, and it was all about him getting his. It was over when he finished. And he assumed I got mine, but usually (almost always) I didn't. Of course I said I did. But I didn't. I might be lying there doing that thing of, "beige...I should paint the ceiling beige..." And to me, that's porn. That is not a good sex experience. There is nothing there for me. No connection. No enjoyment. It's boring. And sometimes, it's gross.

Now. Contrast. Passionate love scenes where I can imagine what they are FEELING... Bring something a little more complex than skin deep...a head thrown back, a purposeful thrust, an artful gasp, light and shadow... Hell, there are plenty of instances where the game of flirting is far sexier to me than actual sex. It's about what engages my mind, and what does not. And to me, porn feels so much like all the times I just lay there pretending. Such a difference to when Zen and I make love and I feel like something inside of me is reaching and embracing, and connecting and interacting, with him. There is real, really real, enjoyable sex...and there is sex that you just do, because whatever. Checked out, "yeah sure we banged" sex. And my own mental associations of these things are quite close.

Am I making any sense to anyone or just talking bullshit right now?

I'm saying, I have kind of lost interest in doing sex with no love or passion. I did that for a goddamn long time, I used to (not in his hearing) refer to sex with Old Wolf as "husband maintenance." It was not beautiful or sacred or full of feeling, it wasn't even erotic, it was just...yeah, you need this, so let's do it I guess. Ten minutes later, we were watching TV. As he likes to point out. It stopped being fulfilling for either of us pretty early on. I don't want anything to do with that kind of sex. And porn to me has a lot in common with...that.

OK, enough of that rumination for now. I think I'm making progress. I'm definitely digging around pretty aggressively in my own head here. But I don't want to spend much of my day thinking about this stuff, because it's my Birthday, and even though I did my celebrating on Tuesday, I want to have a happy day.

I'm also thinking...this is a thing of having both the New Year and my Birthday so close together...about what I accomplished last year, and what I hope to accomplish in the year to come.

Last year, I moved out of Old Wolf's house. I sorted out my love life, more or less. I quit smoking. I am taking much better care of my teeth. (My dentist says I have very nice teeth....I'd like to keep them that way if I can. I did have one go bad, and a root canal, and that was enough to convince me to try and prevent such nonsense in the future if possible.)

My goal was to make more art. I don't think I've really met that goal. I want to keep that one in the back of my mind...but I'm not pressuring myself about it right now.

In the year to come, I want to exercise more. I want to get moved in with Zen. I want to get the bankruptcy done, and cut the anchor on all that damn debt. I want to see Ninja off to college and Q do well in high school, and both of them make progress in learning to drive. I am about 75% convinced I want to go back to college...I am not thrilled about the effect it's going to have on my life and my time, but I recognize the importance of it... I definitely want to put time and energy into a few dedicated "chosen family" type friendships. Fire being one of those. And I would like to have some experiences at party settings with multiple tops, doing sex things, and if that is Zen and Fire or other woman or women, whatever. I'd like to do more with a female partner, and I'd like to cultivate closeness with at least one other woman, to some degree.

And yes, make more art.
 
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Spork your picture of you Zen (he's fantastic by the way), is so amazing.

I wanted to say I think you have a distorted perception of what a swan looks like. For starters swans have long graceful limbs, and are very adaptable on land water and air. Seems to meet you're pretty adaptable. Swans, are fiercely protective of their own "flock". Yup you check that too. Swans have long graceful necks and let water run off their back. I think you do a fantastic job of letting bad things run off you and not stick, and you certainly have an enviable graceful neck!

So i don't see any ducklings here.

Besides since when can swans dance? ;)
 
starlight1 said:
Spork your picture of you Zen (he's fantastic by the way), is so amazing.

I wanted to say I think you have a distorted perception of what a swan looks like. For starters swans have long graceful limbs, and are very adaptable on land water and air. Seems to meet you're pretty adaptable. Swans, are fiercely protective of their own "flock". Yup you check that too. Swans have long graceful necks and let water run off their back. I think you do a fantastic job of letting bad things run off you and not stick, and you certainly have an enviable graceful neck!

So i don't see any ducklings here.

Besides since when can swans dance? ;)
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I appreciate what you're saying, but I was talking in metaphor...princessy, girly women...who make me feel awkward, is what I meant there.

I'm a nerdy, dorky little muppet of a woman. Thing is...being as dorky as I am, is an asset in the relationship I'm in, because I appreciate my Zen for who he is, toys on the wall and everything. Hell, I HAVE some of the same toys. We go to ComicCon together.

It's just when we brush against the question of what turns him on, and it's the same thing that turns all men on, and that isn't something I know how to relate to or be, I feel like I don't have it in me to do that. Like I could never be a stripper, I'd fall and kill someone. Other women know how to work that female sexual appeal, and I...don't. I feel embarrassed to try. I feel like it's an invitation for people to make fun of me, because I just can't really pull it off. I was not one of the pretty girls, not ever. And no matter what I look like now, I don't FEEL like one.

And a lot of this is new new new territory for me. Like I am trying to process this now, because I never really cared before if most of the men in my life liked pornography because I wasn't extremely invested in them being pleased by me, sexually. I didn't care as much, and I care a LOT now. I have someone in my life that I want very much not to disappoint, and I'm afraid that I will.
 
Happy birthday!
You look like a fairy in your picture.

Spork, you know, if you really wanted to, you could learn to dance. You might have to accept, if you're clumsy, that every new figure takes you three times more time to learn then the average is, but from my experience, eventually you do learn to hold balance and hit the rythm just well enough to enjoy the song. It's a typical skill needing practice, so there's no point in regretting that you didn't learn dancing.
(Btw, I suck at girlish stuff too. Let me assure you, that a lot of nerdy boys want nerdy girls.)

Spork said:
Now. Contrast. Passionate love scenes where I can imagine what they are FEELING... Bring something a little more complex than skin deep...a head thrown back, a purposeful thrust, an artful gasp, light and shadow... Hell, there are plenty of instances where the game of flirting is far sexier to me than actual sex. It's about what engages my mind, and what does not. And to me, porn feels so much like all the times I just lay there pretending. Such a difference to when Zen and I make love and I feel like something inside of me is reaching and embracing, and connecting and interacting, with him. There is real, really real, enjoyable sex...and there is sex that you just do, because whatever. Checked out, "yeah sure we banged" sex. And my own mental associations of these things are quite close.

Am I making any sense to anyone or just talking bullshit right now?
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It makes perfect sense. I agree that most of porn production is unappealing (even disgusting) for that very reason - you just don't see the passion, or any real connection, nothing really to enjoy about what is happening.
It's often said, and I don't know how far it's a stereotype but it certainly goes for me, that the female sexuality needs more stories, not visual. And while it's probably true that men are more easily turned on by the visual ... it doesn't mean it's the only form of beauty they appreciate, and neither of my lovers seemed to have it as the primary stimulus in bed. Nope.

I didn't watch much porn in my life, but with my ex who wasn't very kinky, we sometimes used bdsm porn as a stimulus. We chose the more authentic stuff of course, and I was never so much looking as emphathising with the sub. It worked somewhat.

And you know at first I felt ugly because I was so skinny. No one wants to smack a bony ass, and so many womanly curves everywhere. I envied the heavy women at the club. Very much.
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Envy in the bdsm community is so funny. I envied the light and skinny girls because suspension seems easier for them. Heck, I sometimes wish I was more masochistic, so that I could handle one or another beautiful shibari figure :D All nonsense of course :eek:
 
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Yes, I find it peculiar and tricky, the things that spark my envies and little personal feelings of diminishment.

I want to learn to belly dance. I would like that. For some reason, it feels more plausible to me that I might be able to learn it, than other kinds of dancing that involve a lot more moving about. But I feel like I can't coordinate my body to do what I want it to do. I'm very good at fine motor skills, like painting or drawing, painting tiny miniatures, stuff like that...but trying to get my whole body to do what I want it to...not as much. I looked on Youtube and tried to find some beginner belly dance moves once. I did not want to go to a class, because I don't want people to see me not being able to do the thing. It will probably be much easier for everyone else to learn, and I'll be behind...it was that way in my martial arts class I tried to do, and I stopped going because I couldn't remember the kata and stuff that was so much easier for everyone else. But the initial moves I found for belly dancing, was a mere twitch of one hip, up and down....but you have to make it isolated, so you're not moving muscles of legs, butt, stomach, your shoulders remain perfectly still...it's only the one hip. Then the other. I could not pull off that isolated motion without other stuff moving, too. And I get off rhythm so easily. I can't even confidently tap my fingertips on a table to a beat without losing the rhythm. And if I try to turn myself in a circle, I get immediately dizzy. It's very discouraging.

I often feel a weird disconnect between my brain and my body. Who I am internally and externally. It's like the wiring is off, there's a glitch in the machine. EDIT: another small thought...it's like my body is not familiar to me, like if someone were to take YOU out of the body you've lived in your whole life and put YOU into a strange one. My body is always strange to me, to some extent. And I always feel like apologizing for it.

I don't like people looking at me when I feel like I'm looking foolish or doing something badly. Probably goes back to the activities like tumbling or soccer or any number of things my parents put me in as a kid...and I'd fail at them, never having wanted to do them in the first place, even though I tried...and my parents telling me they were so disappointed. They came out to see me do the thing and I couldn't even do it.

I also tried my hand at Florentine flogging. I got some nice matched finger-loop floggers, they are a pretty white elk hide, nice and light. I can coordinate my right hand, but when I bring my left hand into it...havoc and mayhem. And I can draw with my left hand! I can write with my left hand. But not those bigger motions. They jack up my brain.

As for shibari...I can't do that, or at least I'm very limited in it. I cannot be horizontal, because I have something wrong in my spine, in my neck. If my head isn't supported, and I have to either let it hang or support with my neck, it hurts a lot. I risk even a spasm that messes me up for a week or more. And most of the suspensions they do at the clubs, are horizontal. The one time I did it, I had to lace my fingers under the back of my neck and support myself that way, just to tolerate it. I haven't done it since...

But I'm definitely a masochist in that I love love love impact. But I need someone topping who is enough of a Sadist not to be too afraid to hit me, because I appear to be more fragile than I actually am. Bottoming for Zen at the parties is one of my favorite things. I love it when he gets out the dragon tongue...it's something like this: https://ladycleather.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/DSC_1592.jpg ...and it makes a lovely loud crack and he wraps it to my inner thigh and it hurts SO much. He's nearly split skin with it before. Makes me all melty just thinking about it. *le sigh* The marks are beautiful...

EDIT: re-read your response, Tinwen, and thought of something. There was some fetish material that Zen and I had on once, and I didn't see it because I was blindfolded (this was my idea, I'm trying to figure out tricks to crack my own code here)...but I don't like a lot of the fake almighty things they SAY in porn, but I did hear a girl crying, or something like that, and I was cool with that. I was imagining what she was experiencing, and what her Top was experiencing, although I couldn't see it.
 
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Happy Birthday!

I think a lot of the stuff we've both been processing lately boils down to wanting to be truly seen, known, understood for who we are. And valued for that. Not smushed into a shape marked "woman". No matter how beautiful you are (and lady I saw that picture, so I know!) being a pretty girl is not a big part of your self image. It's not what you see as the important, vital, valuable part of Spork.

Sometimes there's nothing more frustrating than being complimented on something you don't see in yourself. It's like, hello, are you looking at me, or just projecting "standard fantasy woman" onto the female person in front of you? (I have had guys tell me they love how spontaneous and free spirited I am. Um. Have you met me, dude? Lol.)

So even as a girly girl who loves high heels and lipstick, I get it. No one wants to think their partner is secretly wishing they were more this or less that - or worse, that their partner is so enamored of the fantasy that s/he fails to see the real person in the relationship with them. I think there's a difference, though, between appreciating certain qualities in other people, and wishing your particular partner had those qualities. If that makes any sense. I can admire the talent and drive (and biceps and abs ;)) of my guy friends who are serious athletes, but that doesn't make me want Andy to be more athletic. I love him for being the exact Andy he is.

Your description of why porn icks you out makes perfect sense to me. Most of the stuff I look at and refer to as porn is probably what you'd label erotica. Soft core and filtered and a lot like the sex scenes in movies, just with full nudity. The boobs bouncing and close ups of genitals don't do anything for me, either. Body parts, meh. What I want to see is ... Lust, passion, emotion turned into action.
 
Happy Birthday!

Reading your last several posts...wow, you and I are a lot alike. I stopped "living in my body," so to speak, by the time I was 4 because of things that were happening. It wasn't until I was 35 that I started getting that connection back, and even now I still have to fight to remember that my body is a thing connected to my brain.

That's particularly true during sex. I like sex, but a lot of the time when I'm actually engaged in it... well, my body's there. My brain isn't. I'm getting a lot better about that, but it still happens; just this afternoon, I started crying when Hubby was trying to get me turned on because my mind wandered to something that had upset me this morning that had nothing to do with him. When sex gets started, I have to consciously remind myself to stay present, and it usually takes a couple more reminders after that.

I hate doing anything that might make people think I'm silly or stupid. At a Pagan festival last spring, I refused to take part in the Maypole ceremony because I didn't want to look stupid...even though literally HUNDREDS of other people were doing exactly the same thing. I'm sure it says somewhere back in my blog that back when S2 first handed me a bass guitar to learn to play, I was afraid to sing or play in front of him because he was a "real" musician (i.e. was in a band that did paying gigs) and I didn't want to embarrass myself by being crappy. And so on.

When I was a kid, my parents used to watch me when I was playing--which was nearly always by myself, because I didn't have friends--and they cross-examined me about what I was doing, why I was doing it, and so on. Most of what I did was "make-believe" things that I would act out; my favorite was pretending a loose hook on our backyard fence would turn the yard into the ocean, and I had fish friends and whale and dolphin friends and a mermaid friend. But since I was acting out these things entirely alone--and therefore talking to myself--my parents interrogated me constantly. Which obviously made me self-conscious, and now I'm afraid to do anything "abnormal" in front of anyone.

So again...another long post that boils down to you aren't alone.
 
Thanks for the birthday wishes everybody!

And your post wasn't really that long. Heck. I'm Ms. Wall O' Text over here, so bring it on with posts of any length ya like. Clearly I love to read and write.

There's only one circumstance I can think of where I have danced. March Fourth Marching Band. Because they are so full of jazzy jazzy energy that it's very hard to be still, and because I wait until I see that plenty of folks have got up dancing and many of them are bad at it, so it shouldn't be a big deal if I am, too.

But then once in a while, they'll try and coordinate a full audience participation choreographed series of simple moves, where everyone does the thing together and there IS a right and wrong way to do it...and suddenly I'm doing it all wrong. I'm in reverse, leading with the wrong side of my body (or hand, or foot) and I'm doing the opposite thing as everyone else, and I just want to run away because OMG I'M DOING IT WRONG AND EVERYONE MUST BE JUDGING ME.

Ugh.

*sigh*

I was just quiet and alone a lot as a kid. I don't remember pretending very much, but I remember building a lot of things. I don't remember doing anything that made my parents happy with me or proud of me. I do have some good memories, but like...my Mom and I would watch a movie or play Scrabble, and drink hot tea. The focus was not on ME, it was on an activity we were sharing. I didn't like attention being pinned onto me. It was usually a bad thing. I can't remember it not being a bad thing, I can't remember a time when it wasn't uncomfortable. I don't know why...whatever started that thinking, I was too young to retain the reason.

I also had no friends, or the rare occasional friend who came and went from my life. I got along better with adults than kids, and was always talking to strangers. I remember going into the houses of some of our adult neighbors, people who didn't even have kids. I remember vaguely that I knew who had a computer and would let me play games on it (ancient machines of the mid-80's!) and I vaguely recall that one of my neighbors had a huge velvet Elvis on the wall.

It's interesting what we remember of our childhoods, what little snips and bits stay and how much is gone and forgotten.

Now, the me of now and today...I am an exhibitionist, so I do like a certain kind or amount of attention...just not if I'm being expected to do something that I'm not confident about being able to do. I'm afraid of being bad at things. I give up easily if I feel like "I can't." But it doesn't take skill to stand there and take a whipping. Just a capacity to cope until the endorphins kick in.
 
GirlFromTexlahoma said:
Happy Birthday!

I think a lot of the stuff we've both been processing lately boils down to wanting to be truly seen, known, understood for who we are. And valued for that. Not smushed into a shape marked "woman". No matter how beautiful you are (and lady I saw that picture, so I know!) being a pretty girl is not a big part of your self image. It's not what you see as the important, vital, valuable part of Spork.

Sometimes there's nothing more frustrating than being complimented on something you don't see in yourself. It's like, hello, are you looking at me, or just projecting "standard fantasy woman" onto the female person in front of you? (I have had guys tell me they love how spontaneous and free spirited I am. Um. Have you met me, dude? Lol.)

So even as a girly girl who loves high heels and lipstick, I get it. No one wants to think their partner is secretly wishing they were more this or less that - or worse, that their partner is so enamored of the fantasy that s/he fails to see the real person in the relationship with them. I think there's a difference, though, between appreciating certain qualities in other people, and wishing your particular partner had those qualities. If that makes any sense. I can admire the talent and drive (and biceps and abs ;)) of my guy friends who are serious athletes, but that doesn't make me want Andy to be more athletic. I love him for being the exact Andy he is.

Your description of why porn icks you out makes perfect sense to me. Most of the stuff I look at and refer to as porn is probably what you'd label erotica. Soft core and filtered and a lot like the sex scenes in movies, just with full nudity. The boobs bouncing and close ups of genitals don't do anything for me, either. Body parts, meh. What I want to see is ... Lust, passion, emotion turned into action.
Click to expand...

Yes.

Very much yes.

So my thing, I am used to being hurt by the Female Illusion. Not being seen, all of that. That WAS the pattern. Before. With my ex, with men before him, and maybe with some since.

But NOT WITH ZEN. And it's what is blowing my mind with him, is that I DO think he sees me. I think he appreciates me for me. I love him for him, and I think he appreciates that about me, too.

And that's the point of all this jibba-jabba, about my bad feelings regarding porn. Because the sweet, amazing guy he is, he is telling me it's ok for me to feel what I feel. And I'm thankful for that. But I feel these squicky feelings because of other people and other situations. Those situations no longer apply, so I want to do the work to break up the feelings that got written in code in my brain by them.

Zen isn't like other men, at least in regard to me. And from what he's told me, he's something better in terms of even how he sees strippers, and I am probably going to be more comfortable in some of the kinds of porn he likes than I would what a lot of guys like...he really IS better and more compatible for me, than others in my past. He needs only to look to his best friend, to imagine what I mean when I say that he's better than other men, he SEES the damn stupid man-fumblings his buddy is doing, the blind spots, and all. That ain't Zen and Zen ain't that.

So this reaction of mine is a reflex. One that is anachronistic to my present situation, obsolete, and that I no longer want. I feel like I am at least in part, tracking down all the threads that built this response so that I can really understand why it no longer applies, and hopefully work towards breaking it.

I'm thinking that probably what might help, is exercise with Zen and I where we actually push the fear-button, make me confront it, but with a lot of positive physical reinforcement that he can be enjoying that, but also enjoying me and that even with that there, I am still wanted and loved...and the comforting structure of him behaving in directing and controlling and Dominant sorts of ways.

Like when someone is scared of something, phobic, and it makes no sense, and they have to confront it...but hopefully in settings where other elements feel safe...until they break the fear response.

Because frankly from where I sit, I feel that it's horribly unfair to let a shadow from my past relationships be cast across anything that involves Zen. He is good enough to really not deserve that, and I have NO desire to make him pay for anything that anyone else ever did to or with me. None of this is a judgment that has anything to do with him. It's just a damned reflex I want to get free of.

(EDIT: So I thought I'd posted this reply, but I didn't, and it was gone, but it wasn't...back button on my browser, I had only PREVIEWED it...ok, fixed, now it's posted... You know I have really enjoyed talking to everybody today. It's made my Birthday really enjoyable actually. :) )
 
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I've said it before...I want to be too clever and logical and skeptical to buy into any sort of woo woo. I am absolutely NOT into religion, divinations and crystals and Ouija boards and whatnot. Rituals and hocus pocus.

I like IDEAS. I like philosophy. I may appreciate the aesthetics of religion, but I let mysteries be mysteries, I take wise philosophy for its own merit, and I don't like to place faith in the "word" of what I consider to be imaginary beings (deities of any sort.)

I love astrology...and yet... I think there are many things in reality that we don't really have the science for. Maybe our brains can touch vibrations from the future, maybe time is only another dimension, maybe there are echoes through parallel universes or spooky quantum particles, I don't fucking know! That's the point. I'm ok with not knowing. I don't care to pick any particular GUESS and say, "Yes, I believe in this. It's the One Twue Twuth!" Thing is...I like to indulge certain mysteries that feel harmonious to me, without demanding that they prove themselves. Like I create in my mind, elaborate color combinations and visual patterns that represent human beings that I know and meet...why?...who cares? I don't care why. I just do it. It simply is. I neither reject it for its lack of logic, nor try to explain or validate it. I simply let it be.

So...astrology. Maybe there's something there and maybe not. Maybe it's only one of many methods to touch the same mystery. Maybe it's all a bunch of baloney. I neither fully accept, nor reject it. But I've found this one woman, Cal Garrison, who writes horoscopes, and I really like her. I don't just like her horoscopes, I like her writing, her speaking, her story, her face. I wish I could meet her in person and spend some time physically near her. She seems like what I call a "bright spirit." There are some people who just...shine. She shines.

And given that the path through my life and the lives in my immediate vicinity, have been pretty peculiar for some years, I would not expect to be able to keep tabs on an ongoing prediction or assessment of where we are, and see truth in it...but she writes to exactly what is happening, as it's happening, with remarkable accuracy.

http://www.calgarrison.com/weekly-horoscopes.html

CAPRICORN (Me.)
Life is filling up with a sense of excitement that you haven't felt in a long time. I suspect that you're at one of those points where whatever isn't working is bound to be sticking out like a sore thumb. Caught between the past and the future, this is where whatever is written is about to be impacted by the choices you make now. There is no 'right' way to handle this. In most cases, the need to grow into new and more creative forms of expression has to be weighed against the need to make ends meet. The question is; can you find a way to live with yourself and do both?

Sense of excitement: I'm over the moon for my Zen and very excited about our future together.
What isn't working/sore thumb: Finances, plans that Old Wolf had with regard to the house, or basically anything to do with him since he's the classic "what isn't working" that has haunted me for years. Yes, it's a jarring reality that I need to resolve some money problems.
The past/future: Um yeah. I'm in transition, have been.
I have some big choices in front of me. The creativity versus paycheck argument deserves a fresh look (I am aware and already contemplating) because if Obamacare continued the way it had been, the whole "punished on taxes for not having insurance" bit prevents me from straying from cubicle hell. So I need to finish my degree (even against my will kicking and screaming) and go for the big paycheck from big corporate America. But on the other hand, I have always got at least a couple of creative opportunities to make money in front of me...and if I put my energy there, instead of into an accounting education, in the next few years... I could be doing both.

It's been my "resolution" every year for the last several, to make more art.

So.

PISCES: (Zen)
The sense that you have turned into a piece of Turkish Taffy is getting to you. The way you've been getting torqued around makes me wonder if you will make it through this. Too much is in the forefront for you to know which priority is which. To top it all off you've got more than your share of opportunities on tap - and it's making you wish you could just drop everything and do your thing. Be patient. Your wish is always the universe's command, but first things first. There are too many things that need tidying up. All of them are here to pave your way; take one at a time.

He's got concerns at work, issues with his landlord, a desire to make me a priority and help me through my stuff, and possibly other things tugging at him that I'm not even aware of. So there is some of that. Opportunities on tap? Well he IS tapping one opportunity lately. But to the point that I know of, I think we have an agreement that we are going to live together later this year...and it is a fact that doing this will require him to put time and energy into preparing for it. He has a lot more stuff than I think he clearly realizes. Getting his physical possessions wrangled and under control is a generally good idea, methinks, because he has been aware he might have to dash off and care for his father...but moving or storing the things he's got would be quite an undertaking. I'm personally (from my limited view) seeing this project as the needful "tidying up." But I might by taking it too literally, I don't know.

SAGITTARIUS: (Fire)
You keep coming up against the same old thing. It may help you to notice that it looks a little different this time. If you can stop long enough to be here for it, you will see that what you expected to get worse, is getting better. In the midst of an unusual amount of chaos you're beginning to realize that 'crisis' is what the universe uses to get us to shape up or ship out. Themes that revolve around getting off the boat, detaching from restriction, and reaching the point where you begin to see that there is another way to do things are popping up everywhere.

This jives very well with stuff that she has had going on in the last week or so. Themes with people in her poly network, personal difficulties, and resolution on some fronts that has actually cleared the air...the restructuring of some relationships and the realization that they can change...and not necessarily go away.

LIBRA (Old Wolf, and our youngest son, Q...god help me):
You are sitting in limbo wondering why things are up in the air. Sometimes life gets into a dead calm and there's nothing you can do but wait. The trick lies in knowing enough not to create a whole bunch of problems while you're sitting around waiting for the wind to blow up. The solution relies on having the patience to be here for it. Your relationships have been subject to issues that come up for all of us when life pulls us up on the rails. It's hard to go through your own personal gauntlet with others looking askance. Do your best to hold steady; keep treading water.

Old Wolf has felt like he's in a purgatory of his own creation this whole time he's been alone...he had a Mommy, and now he doesn't, so he's "just surviving, not living" but when he gets up to where Song is and can be near her (and hopefully drive away her man so he can get all of her attentions and loves) he'll have a Mommy again and he'll be able to heal and live and everything will somehow be ok.

I...doubt it. But certainly he is in limbo waiting for things to change so he can move on. And he's been talking about mouthing off to his employers so that they'll fire him and he can collect unemployment instead of transferring to a decent paying job in one of their offices up there. Which is begging disaster on so many fronts.

Not my problem. Not my problem. NOT MY PROBLEM.

Moving on.

Q. Q wants a job. But he's realizing that if he's going to put a proper amount of effort into school, and get his Driver's Ed done, and still have any time to relax, he's going to have a difficult time working a part time job on top of all that. So he thinks maybe he should wait until the summer. He's not really sure what he's got to do here. And he's coming up against the fact that being a teenager with a rapidly growing body means big appetite and big sleep needs. So he's dealing with that. He got in trouble on the bus the other day and we've had some other teenage mischief crop up here and there this week, so the rest feels true as well, that his restlessness stands to generate thoughtless trouble for him, which he'll regret when he's got to pay for it...he needs to settle his ass down and be patient.

ARIES (My older son, Ninja)
So much good stuff is right here in front of you. Don't give in to the thought that it's anything but perfect. You can't let tunnel vision keep you from seeing that this can go any way you choose. The idea that you have to stay put is insane. Opportunities to travel are about to show up. This will open the door to a whole new raft of relationships and experiences. The message for this week is, 'be ready for anything'. As far as others are concerned? You've got a tiger by the tail and can't be held back. At this point, whoever loves you needs to put you on a long leash and let you go.

He's planning to move to Tulsa for college. He is, in the meantime, going to go live with some friends of the family for a few months until he finishes high school, since his Dad is running off...so this is encouraging, with regard to the Tulsa thing...

I just find it very interesting how right she always seems to be about me and whoever is closest to me. Maybe it's baloney, and maybe it isn't, and maybe it's something valid but utterly different from what it supposedly is based on, I frankly could not say. I just enjoy it. *shrug*
 
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So I think I have done enough of the exercise in my head of, "Trigger the feeling, examine the feeling, explore and feel the feeling, try to explain what it's like." That's what I've been doing.

Thoughts on how to progress from here...

Books? I actually came across, wandering the internet and reading stuff, some interesting books on male sexuality. In trying to reconcile my internal conflict of "male sexuality is all tied up with dehumanizing the subjects of their arousal, therefore I cannot receive love from a man" (it's a more convoluted path than that, but that's the Start to Finish of it.) and then my experience of Zen...well, again I can't get too personal there. That is a very specific thing. But maybe reading some stuff will help me try to be more comfortable with the way male sexual triggers function? I can try.

Therapy or counseling? I have looked...there is one properly certified sex counselor in my city. They don't take insurance, and it's expensive. So basically that sort of help is for people who not only have time, but also money...I don't see myself being able to do that, unfortunately. I'll continue to look around for other alternatives.

Zen and I working together to write new code and work out the issues I have, by some combination of exposure to triggers combined with love and reassurance and connection. My fearful self is looking for the existence of one thing to invalidate the other, and I feel like a course of...re-education...it might be possible for us to rewire my brain if we try, with regard to this.
 
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