That Girly Thang

Writing has happened in my life of late, though not here. This is taking longer for me. Mostly because my sexual desires are suppressed by the hormone therapy I’m forced to take to control my illness. However, that is improving a bit, I am happy to report. My partner isn’t seeing more sex from me, but I am feeling better about myself and I feel desire present in my most days again. That’s pretty sweet. I’m just enjoying that charge being available in my body.

I’ve contemplated relationship as an overall topic in my life. I’ve got good things going on in my life. My partnership with Remus (Note to self: ask him if I can use his first initial or something in future, instead of Remus) is good. It’s not as sexy as we’d both like and we’re not sharing massage nearly enough for our tastes, but our connection remains close and happy. We are laugh a great deal together. As usual. No, my contemplation is about women. I want a relationship with a woman, as well as one with Remus. I know that I’m in my way about that. Totally. Setting aside my energy levels in winter, there’s emotional barriers in me. If I’m to negotiate them or remove them to have an emotional/erotic relationship with a woman I have to examine those barriers. That’s what this note is about, so this isn’t going to be sexy yet, but I’ll get there.

So here’s the thing…

Betrayals tend to cause a person to be fearful of emotionally intimate connections. If a betrayal is also sexual, this will tend to make it even more difficult to be emotionally intimate in a potentially sexual relationship. The thing is, I’ve experienced betrayals from women I should have been able to trust. Some of those betrayals were with women in my family and those betrayals spanned the gamut of emotional, physical, spiritual and sexual abuse and neglect. For instance, I know my grandmother molested my son. He is okay and I kept him safe, but knowing what she did to him, I am certain she did it to me also. For instance, I suspected that my mother had sex with my son’s father when he and I were dating in highschool. Recently my brother inferred that she’d done so in a conversation we had. For instance, some of the women in my life broke my confidences, picked fights with hurtful behavior and then blamed me for it, were intensely jealous and talked behind my back to solicit allies against me or just refused to speak to me any more because I was dating someone they wanted to date, stole from me, traded secrets so they could get dirt on someone else I cared about, got me fired from jobs without reason because they were sabotaging my work, assumed I did or meant something that wasn’t true at all, caused so much chaos in my life that I lost opportunities, just plain lost interest because I didn’t live right beside them any more.

I could likely keep pulling examples from my memories, but you get the picture. Shit happens to people and when we are learning to be good friends, we often get hurt. That doesn’t change with maturity. At the very least, we’ll lose friendship, just through sickness and old age. I don’t feel too wounded to make friends, though I am slow to grow close to them. I do have some difficulty in friendships with letting people get really deep in my heart, but I do it. Mostly successfully.

I have never been able to let a woman be as intimate with me as I’d like emotionally though, nor been able to have sex. I just haven’t been able to let anyone get close enough. Plenty of women have tried, so I know it isn’t because I’m unattractive to women. They like me plenty. When I attend bdsm socials, women flirt, they kiss and caress with me. They act aroused by my presence and appearance and they like my attention for playing. I love that and avidly seek it. It’s felt really good to me. But there’s been no take-home relationship. It’s only what I can share there and that’s it.

I have examined “the why” beyond my stuff. I think some of it is the fear gay women have of having a relationship with a bisexual woman. They assume that a bisexual woman wants her jollies until time for domestic bliss and then she’ll wander off to a man to nest with and she’s left high and dry. Then there’s the stuff that bisexual women have going. Usually I meet bisexual poly women. They trend toward wanting to have couple to couple relationships, not woman to woman or they have man/woman relationships other than their nesting partner. This is not to mention that women tend to be the primary parent, even in the cases of two parent families. The act of giving birth tends to make them the primary caregiver (they have the boobs after all) and that naturally extends on an ongoing basis throughout childhood. Parents have an all-consuming task of caring for children which includes earning money. There’s not lots left over for developing relationships outside their home of any kind, let alone a poly relationship with a woman.

There are also fewer women looking for a woman of my age to make love to and fall in love with. This is not a common lifestyle for women my age. It’s very common with women who are fifteen or twenty years younger than I am, but those young women I’ve met, just aren’t too handy. We haven’t been able to connect. There’s a lovely young woman I keep encouraging to connect outside of our social group, but it’s not happening. There’s another woman near my age I’ve been friends with for years. We’ve talked a great deal and deeply. We know we want to, but we can rarely get any time together and then it’s usually for a birthday or a social, not one to one.

Thus I make an effort. But I am not connecting. I am a believer in the idea that people come along when we’re ready. I think I must not be ready or it would be happening. And I’m realizing that I need to process. I also need to decide how that happens. This is one way I am doing that. I know that Remus reads here when I post. It helps me to let him know what I’m thinking and why, but I rarely confide in him in person. It’s just not my habit to babble about emotions all that much any more. I used to, but that’s not what I do these days. I don’t need to. After all, how many times can you say, today I am happy, today I am wishing I were more well, but I am happy and I’m glad you can share that with me. Or I love you, really alotta. Well that I say every single day or every single time I see someone I love. I just do. It’s important to me to let people know I love them and to express it openly. I didn’t have that as a girl, so I create that in my life with great intention as an adult.

In any case, I feel blessed with knowledge of what’s going on for me. What happens next is my choice. Now I’ve written about it, I’ve got to decide what’s next…

Thanks for listening,



tumblr_lxzbk3sVsF1qfm2v7o1_500It is interesting to me that I keep picking women in my life who cancel, disappear, are so busy I rarely get to see them, who reject, or who are dying. As an introvert and a child of a dysfunctional family, I suppose it’s no surprise, but how is this the least bit interesting? And furthermore, why is it still happening despite all efforts to change it? It is hilarious, boring and dumb, quite frankly.