Random January 1

Five ways to win your heart?

1. Candid, forthright honesty.  Tell me what you like about me.  Tell me what you think I can improve on (bonus points if you can offer suggestions on how to do so).  Tell me what you think about the world.

2. Active listening.  I love to tell stories.  I get this from my dad (he will tell stories even to customer support when looking for help – my mother is much more straightforward).  I will tell you a lot about myself in my stories, about what makes me tick, about what I am looking for in life.  If you ask me questions about what I’m talking about, I know you’re listening and that makes me feel very special.  

And yes, I know sometimes I blather on – to tie into #1 – please tell me to shut up if I am.  I would prefer hearing that to disinterest/disengagement.

3. Remembering my little quirks.  Like what my love languages are and why I distinguish between giving and receiving love languages.  Like what my favorite cut flowers to receive are (roses), but that I generally prefer live plants.  My favorite foods.  How sensory processing issues manifest for me and making a comfortable environment for me without the bad ones.  Know how I like my bacon cooked.  So on, and so forth…

4. Take me to the theater/opera.  Talk to me about theater and opera.  Seriously.  I love getting the opportunity to dress up and enjoy a show, then talk to someone about it afterwards so I can process it.

5. Hold my hand in public.  I want you to be proud/happy to be with me where we are and skin to skin contact, especially on hands, helps me feel very appreciated.


November Write 10

I grew up with a vaguely Christianesque religious background – Easter and Christmas, religious overtones at funerals, prayers at family meals both immediate and extended (my sister and I instituted it in our household – I think more as a measure of gratitude than religiosity), and the Christian bible, both Old and New Testament, was available to read easily (though never mandatory).

I “lost” religion like I “lost” my virginity: slightly awkwardly, but have enjoyed the experience afterwards quite a lot.

Right now, I tend towards spirituality of the loosely pagan sort.  I am agnostic about the existence of a god or gods – no one has proved it, nor disproved it solidly enough for me.  I do solidly believe in the great power of nature to create and destroy.  I have occasionally done tarot spreads to help me figure out something that is troubling me or to meditate on a problem or a joy in my life, though I have not found a deck that pulls me in as an adult yet, though I am looking.  I do get a sense of holiness about certain sites – Stonehenge, some churches, the piazza in front of St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome, and the ocean, being the ones that come immediately to mind.

Music is my form of worship (which, I think, may explain why I like gospel music so much).  The closer to up close and personal it gets, the more profound the experience is.  It transcends the bullshit, gets right to the sound of humanity.  Music is something humans have used for many thousands of years to express our joy and sorrow – it is a quintessential part of being human, I think, which makes it very holy to me.  Gregorian chanting is very beautiful and profoundly holy sounding to me but so is the experience in a small comfortable bar listening to a favorite band, or sitting on the deck or in the living room of a friend listening to others jam or jamming one’s self.

To top this off, I offer one thing – Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah, sung by the man himself: https://youtu.be/YrLk4vdY28Q.  This song has been resonating in my brain.  It is, to me, a holy thing.


Processing out of love


Warning:  This is a lot of brain spillage, just getting my thoughts out at this point in time.  It does not necessarily represent my feelings in the future.

Here is the truth – I don’t know what happened here with Grey Sky.

I don’t know why I only got four days to process, to have an opinion of the situation – one that did change over that time, and would have, I suspect, been satisfactory if I’d had the chance to present the final edition – but I did not get that chance.

See my post on Reddit here, trying to figure out how to resolve things.

I do not know why I was punished for doing as I promised – being honest about my feelings.

I do not know what went on in his head.  I do not know why he didn’t think to talk to me in the middle of things, so I could help sort things out, rather than at the end.  It sounds a bit like I’m trying to say this retroactively, to make it sound like I am a better person than it might otherwise appear, but I did actually come to the conclusion that I could be okay with the situation as is.

But here’s the thing – I know I did ask a lot at the beginning – time that wasn’t available, especially.  But it was only ever a problem at the very beginning and once when plans were cancelled last minute.  I am afraid that light-hearted teasing about the subject was taken far more seriously than it was intended.

When the conversation was good, when we talked – one or two days for in person visiting was just fine.  Trydaen is my anchor partner and I enjoy spending most of my free partner time with him, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get attached to the notion of spending time with others who seem to genuinely enjoy me for me, especially comfortable time in home settings.

I could choose to be vindictive, to strike out physically or emotionally.

But I don’t have it in me – I didn’t have it in me to bad-mouth Asa, to reveal their faults, then or now, because there’s a history there that I wanted to value.  So I made my discomfort with the situation seem to be about my feelings, rather than about any real concerns with her, to the extent of masking them.  I don’t know whether this was a mistake on my part.

I know that at some point in time Grey Sky cared for and trusted me enough to reveal some secrets, some more hidden things.  I want him to know that these are safe with me, regardless of what our relationship status is – I have no desire to strike out in fear or sadness.  To him I say – if you do not choose to do the same, I can’t say I would feel good about it, but there is nothing there that I cannot deal with the world knowing.  I hope he does not choose to, out of malice or any other reason – I trust that this will never come up.

To address what came up, I would have to know what went into it.  What thoughts motivated it, what was not shared.

But from what I know here is what I can address (in no particular order, because my memory is shoddy):

  1. I do not believe that our relationship is/was unhealthy for either of us.  I do not know where this notion came from, where its roots lie.  I wish I had had the chance to address whatever it is that’s driving this.  Yes, it was one-sided – I offered to remedy this, but I don’t think my suggestion was heard with sincerity – it was something I was genuinely offering.  I didn’t see any point in offering up what I had come to in the situation regarding Asa because it felt too late anyways.
  2. I genuinely have no idea why you would need to protect your child or family from me – I remember that I used the word unsafe, but that was not what he said exactly.  They all seemed to like me – especially the kid.  Yes, I am a sadist, but like his submission, that does not extend outside the bedroom (not a secret to much of anyone).  I have made extra careful to make sure this is the case.  If it was a matter of pressure to out himself – I will admit that I did push this a bit hard at the beginning – but the truth was, it was never a dealbreaker, just a concern.
  3. Yes, I did beg.  I begged because the relationship was worth a lot to me, because I thought it a thing worth working to save.  I am sorry that he did not seem to think so – I wish this had been addressed earlier, so things didn’t blow up in our faces.
  4. As to whether the two days a month would have worked, was working – at the beginning it was not quite what I was used to, so that raised some flags for me, but by two months, three months, it was something that I felt I could live happily with for awhile – whether he believes that or not.
  5. Yes, I do think our expectations of the relationship were very different.  I think maybe we should have addressed this at the beginning – things might have been a bit more flexible, a bit more loose, if we could have outlined this.  If we ever get back together, this is something that we will need to address as a prerequisite.
  6. If there is love left there for me, I hope that he chooses to consider the good things more than as just memories, but reasons to choose to go on, to consider the idea of repair.  We made such grand plans, even if there was not the time ever to make them come true (this is something that I realized a very short time in – did not make them any less fun to make).

To Asa:

I do not know how much of this you knew beforehand.  And do not think I blame you for it – there was so much there beforehand that really needed to be addressed before you came in, and that was what the fuss was about, at least in my eyes.  Out of my love for you, and for what is, was, and will be – I can offer “I’m sorry” and I hope you decide to talk to me again.  I will not put our mutual friends in the middle of things, so I hope, for the sake of our pre-existing friendship, that we can talk in the end.  I cannot deny that I think this situation will change things for us, but I hope that we can see through this.

To Grey Sky:

I hope you eventually see this as a blip, rather than something permanent – something we can resolve, whoever “we” ends up being.  In the meantime – know that I hold a light in my heart for you and for your dearest.  I still want to see where we can go – I think we have further adventures to go on if we can figure out our issues and communicate.  I hope you find the help you need, find that therapist you were talking about.  I wish I could recommend mine, but I don’t know what insurance she takes and I think that there might be a conflict of interest anyways, but she has been very helpful.

I miss talking to you.  I love you.



Different Love

The idea in poly that we could love people the same is rather silly.  I do not love anyone the same as anyone else.

I love my parents because I honestly believe that they did the best job they knew how to do to raise my sister and me.  They have been supportive even when they had no idea how to handle an introverted bi poly kid.  I appreciate that.  They have both tried to have an adult relationship with my sister and I and respect, generally, that they raised two very independent minded children.

I emphatically love some of my friends.  It’s mostly because they’ve been around when I’ve needed people around and chose to stay in my life and bond with me.  Some of them I want to have sex with, some I’d consider, some I have.  It may have an effect on how I love them.  It may not.  I’m not sure,  and for each it is different.

I love Grey Sky.  I fell in love with him (for lack of a more preferred pronoun) very early on in things, not sure why so early, may be a matter of leaving my heart open.  He is very sweet and I know he tries to be the best partner he can, given the limited opportunities to physically express it.  Grey Sky gives me ammunition to love myself and in doing so, is far more lovable.  I want to convey  that to him – whatever he brings to the table, I will love him for it.  I want to grow my Dom/top self with him, give him chances to know a part of me that I don’t often show.  And I hope he feels comfortable enough to show the same.

I have been with Trydaen for near on four years.  My love for him has blossomed and metamorphosed through that time.  I love him because he folded himself into my life very well,  because he gives me new mysteries every day, because he chose to stick with me even when it was not an easy thing to do, because he touches me even when that is not an easy/comfortable thing for him to do.  We both are strong-willed, so when we fight, we really do, but it never escalates into abusive patterns.  I like that he is willing to stand up to me.


Being a GQ lady

Yeah, I still love the term lady and will continue to use it, despite no longer identifying as the gender that term traditionally belongs to.  Because I want to.  And that’s really what it comes down to.

I’ve halfway joked that my gender should be “Because I Want To”.  I dress in jeans almost every day because I want to.  I wear dresses on fancy occasions, because I want to.  I take naked pictures and share them with friends.   Naked pictures showing a body that looks traditionally female.   Because I want to.  I’ve got a number of piercings.   Because I wanted to.  I crave the day I have the money to get a tailored suit.  Because I want one.

I don’t have any issues with being read as female.  But that’s only because I am in little danger from being so.

I love my men.  I would hate to see them hurt.  But the world does not look kindly on men with feminine sides.  So I have privilege in this regard – I can express that without being dissed or looked down upon.  So booo…

Don’t know where else I was going with this, so I’ll stop there.


Body Love

Like many other female bodied/AFAB (remember – I identify as GQ) people I was taught to hate my body at a young age.  My body was the enemy, to be reduced, enhanced, made to look slim and perky, made to conform.  My mother was always trying to diet away the weight she gained after carrying my sister and I.  Never taught to appreciate what genetics gave me in the way of planes and curves.  The ones that were passed down from my mother, her mother, my dad’s mother, and all their mothers before then, many years back.  What a waste of love.  What a waste of words.

It wasn’t until I was an adult that I learned it was possible to love your body.  Even if I want to lose weight.  Even if I have insecurities about bits that stick out.  I saw women who were bigger than me, smaller than me completely naked like it was the most normal thing in the world.  And it is.

When I started fucking women I began to see and love in them the things I had learned to hate in myself.  Then I realized how silly that was.  Why was that scar, that curve of the hip, that rounded stomach so attractive on her, but I couldn’t see it on me?  The light bulb starts to blink on.

When I got my first tattoo, I had been designing it for years.  I saw how pretty it was, how much it enhanced my look.  Then I got two more on my wrists, little ones.  Then my lower back piece – so simple and colorful, a memorial piece.  One that reminds me of Minx and her delightful curved hips (rounded out from bearing and giving life to two children, which I always admired), long curved abdominal scar (from a tummy tuck after weight loss), sensitive breasts, and a cunt so full of life.  This one reminds me that love of all is not out of reach.

My partners, past and present, male, female, and everywhere in between have given me a wonderful gift in this regard.  They remind me of all the great pleasure my body can give to another, through sight, sound, smell, and touch.  Their imaginations bring me to life and lust in ways that I could have never thought.  They show me, through their enthusiasm for what my body looks like and what it can do and what it can take, how fantastic it is.

I am not still completely in love with my body.  But I have come to appreciate the curve and solidness of my thighs, the ones that help carry me to the tops of mountains, and wrap so sensually around the hips or waist or head of my lover.  The extra pudge on the outside of them that won’t go away – my mom and sister both have that, and it ties me to them.  And my breasts still get in the way in clothing, but are a source of great joy to me, and to others.  My waist, more trim now than before because I weight lifted and made it that way, is still my great source of bodily anxiety.

But all said, my body is what carries me through this life and gives form to my thoughts and ambitions.  For that I am thankful.



I recently started identifying as genderqueer.  I’ve had hesitations about identifying as strictly female for quite some time.  I was a tomboy as a kid and never quite grew out of it, but sort of adjusted to what was expected of me.

A few years ago I figured out that queer was a far more accurate label for my fluctuating sexual sexuality than bisexual or the one that I more often use – pansexual.  I like the term because it evokes something different, something outside of the heteronormative, an oddity that is accurate for who I am.  But recently I realized that this is also accurate for my gender too – a little odd, a bit different.

Genderfluid is probably more accurate – it shifts from day to day (as does my sexual orientation), but I love the word “queer”.

If you’re curious – I choose she/her or zie/zir for pronouns.  I’m not a fan of they/them for myself – doesn’t feel quite right personally  (grammatically is a different tin of worms that I’m not getting into).


Odd Sort of Love

I’m not any sort of sappy romantic.  Most of the traditional courtship things have little to no significance for me.  They are simply not how I prefer to express or receive love.

My parents, my dad especially, tend to see this as odd, despite the fact that my dad is very similar.  He had difficulty seeing romance in my relationship with my partner because we’re not super touchy in public.  Our affection is different.  Less obvious, more private.

He randomly sends me pictures of cute animals because he knows they’ll make me smile.  He’s not a huge fan of big gatherings, but is choosing to do the handfasting with me because he knows it will make me happy.  I choose to debate with him (even though I’m not very good at it) because he wants someone to listen and bounce ideas off of.

This is the person I want with me – there are some things we will never understand about each other and I can guarantee this is and will be frustrating.  But this love works for me, right here, right now.



Today, I am scared.

Since WordPress ate my post I am also frustrated – beautiful, pour my heart out post and it eats all but the first line.

But let me see what I can recreate.

I am scared that I will never fall in love again – not that I will not love, because that is a different thing – but that I will never have that hoping, planning, dreaming, head over heels, hormone racing experience again.  With Minx it was cut down right when it was blooming and I am not sure I can take that again and there’s no promise that won’t happen again.

I am scared that all Trydaen will come to remember of me is this depressed person – angry, sad, frustrated – instead of the good that we had for the more than a year before this all happened.

I am scared that I will never work my way out of this depression, that I will be stuck here forever.

I am scared that all my friends will think that I am not worth their time any more because I can’t be as social as I used to be.

I am so scared.