NotBlueAtAll

I'm just a fat gal with a blog and an opinion. Well, lots of opinions.

Life is Performative

August20

Being a highly functioning individual with anxiety, depression, and PTSD, I can tell you that much of life is performative. Even folks without mental health concerns often feel the need to put on airs or keep up appearances. But is that living? I mean, with so much of what I catch myself doing as performing my life, in those actual moments, am I living my life at all, and who for? There are times when it is a matter of survival. Any marginalized group knows this, when a certain set of behaviors allow you to pass by would-be oppressors without detection or harassment. How we act around our family or grandparents versus our close friends. Perhaps we don’t even realize we’re doing it because it’s just been the way things are for so long that it requires no conscious thought.

I have worked long and hard to strip away these notions, my mask, if you will. I believe in being my truest self always. I surround myself with people who love and support me and I them. This becomes becomes abundantly clear when I’m alone in a busy city around lots of people. My posture changes, I catch myself smiling at strangers and instantly dropping my eyes to the ground to avoid eye contact or instigation. That’s not something I do in my daily life, not since I stopped working in San Francisco and had to fight through the hordes to get to my office each day. Or the usual support staff smiles and niceties I would have to provide as part of my job as an administrative professional.

Social media adds another layer to this whole thing, too. I have often seen a quote online about not comparing someone else’s highlight reel to your blooper reel, in regards to their Facebook posts versus actual life. There was a time when what happened online wasn’t necessarily “real life” and yet now that line is entirely blurred or erased in many ways. Do you post about your hardships as well as your victories? I certainly do. It has been a great resource for me in feeling connected and even in asking for support. It is still performative, though. While I write how I speak in an everyday sort of way, I wouldn’t consider emailing individuals the same messages that I post on my FB.

There are people in this world that I have interacted with directly that feel, to me, as though they are not real. I don’t mean not human. I mean that deep down even they don’t know who they are or what their own true desires are. They live in a manner that is for show in a world that rewards that behavior. They self aggrandize on the daily. They live their life through pure egotism and it works for them, until it doesn’t. These folks do not know how to handle hardships, like at all. Minor inconveniences can be absolutely life halting to them. Actual life things that are tough? Forget about it! These are not the friends you call at 3 am to take you to the ER! They are there to cheer you on when it makes them look good. That is all. I feel a small grain of pity for them, but no more than that.

As a means of survival, whether in the world or for a job, presenting your “best” self is necessity! I put quotes there because I do not believe for a second that those moments are our true selves, but are definitely – usually – the best time to be that version of ourselves. I am not my work self when I’m with friends or at home. And my work self is fucking awesome! (No, seriously, ask around!) It is a version of myself that I have developed, rehearsed, and mastered over time. Little bits of my true self seep in from time to time, often through sarcasm or sass, this is just one facet of me. If you only ever interacted with me at my place of work, you’d still like me, maybe even a lot, but you wouldn’t know me at all.

For me that is where the performative part fails. We cannot truly connect with others in a deeper or more authentic way if we’re all just using a single facet of our personalities. At least that is not the kind of connections I want in my life. I hope I’m not alone in that want. We all have friends we have just clicked with and it didn’t come from being fake or putting on a show. Often it is in moments of vulnerability, strife, or accidental mishaps that we connect with someone new and bond because of it. Yet we spend so much energy and thought on how to never appear vulnerable to anyone ever. It is such a waste!

I hope that wherever you are, whatever situation you find yourself in, that you can be okay with that vulnerability. Why? Because there is so much beauty and power in vulnerability. Being able to be open to the awkwardness that those moments create is honestly fucking magical! If you can just be present in those moments and really let them seep into you, I promise it can be a moment of inspiration and clarity. In my most vulnerable moments I have connected with my deeper self, connected with fellow humans, and have grown over all as a person because of it. (I highly recommend the Ted Talk on Vulnerability by Brene Brown, and her book Daring Greatly.) I think when you see and feel for yourself without trying to cover or hide the vulnerable moments of life, you’ll actually become a more compassionate and open human being.

Rad Fatty Love to ALL,

<3
S


P.S. Check out and use the hashtag: #FatAndFree on Instagram & Facebook!

Check out the Fat AF podcast on your favorite podcast app for all things fat sex with me and my BFF, Michaela! (You can listen straight from the web, too!)

Donate to this blog here: https://www.paypal.me/notblueatall

My blog’s Facebook page for things I share that aren’t on this blog (and updated daily): http://on.fb.me/1A18fAS 

Or get the same “shared” content on Twitter: @NotBlueAtAll

Are you on MeWe? I started a fat-feminist group there called, Rad Fatties Unlimited, look for it!

I also have an Instagram, though I need to get back into posting there: https://instagram.com/notblueatall/

And as always, please feel free to drop me a line in comments here or write me an email, I love hearing from readers. (Tell me your troubles, I don’t judge.): notblueatall@notblueatall.com

 

Active Jobs for Fat Bodies

August17

Every Monday and Wednesday morning (though it used to be Fridays, too), I work up a sweat right after arriving to work. You see, I am an office manager for a tech startup in Silicon Valley. Part of my job is to ensure that our beverage fridge and snacks rack are fully stocked. I haul cases and cases of glass and plastic bottled beverages across two kitchens to fill the fridge at 8:30 am. I also keep our kitchens tidy and organized, surfaces clean and safe for food to be displayed and consumed. I run our food program which is a near impossible task when we have nearly 130 people insisting they only want “healthy” food options when the data shows me that they really just wanna load up on heavy proteins at lunch, and complaining about non-issues seems to be a competitive sport around the office.

I am easily the fattest individual here. I am also the queerest (as in the only non-heterosexual human at this particular location). Both of these facts are only slightly unsettling, but don’t typically bother me. I like my job, it’s different every day and presents limitless challenges and issues to untangle. I like startups because they are scrappy, like myself. I can use both my creative and analytical brains to accomplish a myriad of tasks and projects. I find this to be mostly fulfilling. I have no lofty aspirations or goals, I can’t even say that I’m terribly career minded. I know what I excel at what I can do, my experience is unparalleled, my professional reputation impeccable. This isn’t bragging, though. Manual labor is just as much a part of my job as event planing or security protocols. None of this is new to me what so ever.

Fat people often hold very physical jobs. Of the most physically demanding jobs in the U.S. most are held by people most folks would consider fat. This isn’t an anomaly, this is true as hell. Our heft and girth can assist in and protect us from our physical tasks and I would imagine sustain us, too, for the long haul. As the sweat is now mostly evaporated from my brow and neck and the chill of the air conditioner overhead has me reaching for my sweater, I can’t help but reflect on the minimal effort any employee here puts in to do anything at all in a physical way. Yet they will go on and on about their “Keto” this or “fasting” that, “clean” eating and protein shakes. *barf* It’s all bullshit and I know it is. It doesn’t mean they stop the toxic talk, though. I have had to put a few folks in their place whilst demonizing fat in front of me. “And what exactly is wrong with being fat?” I have said with determined and steady eye contact (intimidating no doubt). “What’s wrong with all of what I got going on?” as I gesture dramatically to my entire body.

They tell me it’s “unhealthy” to sit at a desk all day. Don’t I know it! But it’s not like that for me because I’m jumping up from my chair about 50-75 times a day to take care of these adult babies and their endless needs, wants, and complaints. It’s never boring! Ha-ha! I don’t mean to place a negative spin on my role or the people, really, but it is a mixed bag and I’m a very sarcastic human. Ha! I was just thinking this morning as people talked with me or were sharing space while I was sweating it out in the kitchen filling fridges, that it makes some uncomfortable. It’s almost as if they’d rather not know or see someone doing manual labor on their behalf, like only they benefit from it, so I get it, but also, they know me and have to interact me with me constantly. I have no doubt that most assume all the things about me due to my committed ownership of this fiiiiine fat body ‘o mine. They are wrong and it makes me laugh.

I once had a job as “Director of Happiness” for a startup (okay I’ve held that title twice), where my job was so physical, every single day, that I had to change the type of under garments I wore! I was just sweating so much it was uncomfortable (I’m not typically very sweaty, but who wouldn’t be hefting and hauling all day?!). At one point I even sprained my spine on the job. It was an insane the amount of work, really the work of 2-3 people/jobs, and pressure on me in that place, but all of the vegans and juice cleansers weren’t ever trying to pitch in. So quick to shame or hate on fat folks, but you don’t see skinny-minnies doing these jobs! (JFC! Do NOT search google images for anything about fat people working or having a job! Your blood will boil!) I’m often in roles where the job wears many hats or would traditionally be 2 or 3 separate roles. I get shit done, so I’m used to it, but it’s not sustainable. Trust.

I love my body. I trust my body. My body has taken me places and allowed me to accomplish things no one thought possible, myself included. I may be forty, but I’m feisty as fuck with no intention of ever chilling out! Every fat roll and dimple has fired up its cells to allow me to move mountains by starting my own business from scratch, starting a fat positive event for the public, for dancing every year in the Big Moves show with my dance partner Tigress, to leave a waning marriage and to strike out on my own and rebuild a life of my own choosing and design. I have had struggles and injuries and hardships, but my body has been there and seen me through each and every phase of this wild ride called existence. I have no regrets!

Rad Fatty Love to ALL,

<3
S


P.S. Check out and use the hashtag: #FatAndFree on Instagram & Facebook!

Check out the Fat AF podcast on your favorite podcast app for all things fat sex with me and my BFF, Michaela! (You can listen straight from the web, too!)

Donate to this blog here: https://www.paypal.me/notblueatall

My blog’s Facebook page for things I share that aren’t on this blog (and updated daily): http://on.fb.me/1A18fAS 

Or get the same “shared” content on Twitter: @NotBlueAtAll

Are you on MeWe? I started a fat-feminist group there called, Rad Fatties Unlimited, look for it!

I also have an Instagram, though I need to get back into posting there: https://instagram.com/notblueatall/

And as always, please feel free to drop me a line in comments here or write me an email, I love hearing from readers. (Tell me your troubles, I don’t judge.): notblueatall@notblueatall.com

Annual Big Moves Show: The Sweet Barre

August16

Surrounded by fatness

This past weekend I had the privilege of being a guest performer in the annual Big Moves (dot org) dance show in Oakland, California. My dance partner, Tigress, and I have been performing in this show together for six years now. Every year is an emotional, and often physical, roller coaster. Luckily this year wasn’t so bad in the physical department and emotionally, well, I may write about it later but I’ve been pretty dead inside since March and it’s workin’ for me. *Shrugs* It was a great show, though! It always is. Just being backstage with these incredible performers has been such a gift and source of inspiration. As much as I do the show to give that feeling to others, I do it for myself as well.
In a world that tells me every second of every day that I am not worthy of love and empowerment, this show and the performers in it show me and remind me that isn’t so. Being surrounded by fellow fat activists is something I wish every fatty in the world could experience. Because you can just be yourself! You don’t have to defend or demand, there’s no need to hide or seclude yourself at all. Literally every person in the show already knows what all of those things feel like in a very real and visceral way.
Many of the people in the show I have known in some way or another for many years now. Performing in this show for the 6th year in a row is just mind blowing! Where did the time go?! Also, it still feels new. Okay, not all of it, but each performance is a new opportunity to show the world and more so the audience what fat bodies can do. Fat people can do anything! Period! Each year I look forward to the costumes and music and how it will all come together in the end and it’s all just a lovely organic process of a thing!
I don’t have much else to say about it, other than you should come next year! Or in October when they host their annual A Taste for Dance with a chocolate tasting/buffet! I sang in that show for the last two years…this year I am tempted to shoot for a solo dance number, but taking things one day at a time right now. You should still come! It is a special and wonderful show, each and every time! The powerful emotions you will experience are worth the ticket price alone! It is the most positive and empowering thing! But I digress…
So, here are some pics! Ha-ha!


I was really into this outfit and asked Tigress to snap a couple of pics for me.

Before the first performance!

Was trying to get a flirty-ish sneak peek sort of pic, oh well. 


Tigress ironed-on those letters backstage before dress rehearsal…You know you wanna buy one! 


Tigress’ costume was so effing cute!


C’mon! Amazing!

I wore this old af Eshakti dress for the curtain call the first night.

 


This was also Eshakti, 3 years old, a hi-low plaid dress that I’d only worn once. I wore for the curtain call at the second show.
You can see more of our costumes here: https://www.instagram.com/p/BkzIB72gQg0/
More pics from the show: https://www.instagram.com/explore/tags/thesweetbarre/
We danced together to Jesse J’s “Queen” and if you haven’t heard it or watched the video, please don’t deprive yourself any longer!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hw8k0dW3DrkTigress danced solo to “Bounce” By Calvin Harris Featuring Kelis: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ooZwmeUfuXg

Nope, we don’t have video of our dance number…you gotta buy a ticket to the show for that! Ha-ha!

I am eternally grateful to have access to the things that I do and the fat community here in the bay area. I am truly blessed to have such incredible humans in my life. When everything else in my life feels terrible, they make me feel like I matter, and that is a rare and special thing. To not only bare witness to their talents, skills, and beauty but to also share space, conversation and community with them is something I never could have even dreamed of. To share a stage, to be in the same fight, if you will, for fat liberation, is indescribably awesome and inspiring! Each of us individually prove that fat people can do anything, but together we are unstoppable!
Rad Fatty Love to ALL,

<3
S


P.S. Check out and use the hashtag: #FatAndFree on Instagram & Facebook!

Check out the Fat AF podcast on your favorite podcast app for all things fat sex with me and my BFF, Michaela! (You can listen straight from the web, too!)

Donate to this blog here: https://www.paypal.me/notblueatall

My blog’s Facebook page for things I share that aren’t on this blog (and updated daily): http://on.fb.me/1A18fAS 

Or get the same “shared” content on Twitter: @NotBlueAtAll

Are you on MeWe? I started a fat-feminist group there called, Rad Fatties Unlimited, look for it!

I also have an Instagram, though I need to get back into posting there: https://instagram.com/notblueatall/

And as always, please feel free to drop me a line in comments here or write me an email, I love hearing from readers. (Tell me your troubles, I don’t judge.): notblueatall@notblueatall.com

Alone, Not Lonely

August15

I had not spent much time alone, like completely and with intention, until I was almost forty. Even at that point in my life, I can’t say it was with intention, at least at first. Now I seek it out with all of the intention in my very soul. It is a special sort of solace I didn’t truly think existed. I think it is a lost art form in some ways. I had read so many books on Buddhism, zen, feng shui, meditation, mindfulness, being present, and blah blah blah. I spent a good portion of my life seeking outside of myself what was always right there within me.

Image result for alone not lonely

Okay, that may sound very corny and all, but it’s also very true. I grew up with two siblings that I shared a room with. Even in the few years that I was an only child, my mother would often instruct me to go outside to play. Sure, as a child, I loved solo imagination time. I created epic dramas with my Barbies and stuffed animals. I imagined myself a Cinderella type of character and would build castles in the air about the day I would be saved. I concocted secret witches brews in my backyard with mud and leaves and bottle brush blossoms. All before the age of six. Ha-ha! Once I had a baby brother, though, everything changed. I was obsessed with him and he was (is) the sweetest lil’ bro a gal like me could have. (We have a younger sister, but we’ve never been as close.)
I spent so much of my childhood seeking joy and company outside of my house upon the instruction of my mother. When I was home I was care taking and tending to my two siblings (my mother being physically present but mentally incapable of managing). As I got older I spent even more time out of the house and with friends. I never questioned or thought about it or an alternative, it was just life.  Later it was boyfriends and housemates until it was just my husband and me.
When I left my marriage I stayed very close to my husband, in proximity as well as emotionally. We were still best friends. And he lived in the same apartment building as my actual bffs. My new roommate and I got to know each other over time and eventually became close. I was new to dating and had a new career path and everything seemed so new and exciting. Yet I didn’t know who I was or what I wanted in life, let alone where I felt I fit in this world.
At the time I had a very close bff with whom I would text every day and hang out at least once a week. They insisted time and again that I needed to be okay with my own company, that I should somehow force myself to be good with just me. That made no sense to me then, and really forcing anything is rarely a good choice. I struggled from time to time when plans canceled or a rough patch would pop up and I needed support. I would muddle through and not really give much thought outside of the issue at hand.
When I moved back to my home town and all of it’s awful triggers, and far from pretty much everyone I know and love, I was also out of work and still recovering from a spine injury. Isolation hit me like a ton of bricks. If I left the house I would get triggered and have a panic attack. If I stayed home I would feel stir crazy and start to climb the walls or consider self harm. It was maddening in a very real fucking way! PTSD is a terrible thing to live with, and I had gone so long without any symptoms that being faced with so much all at once lead to a complete mental breakdown.
I was applying to jobs everyday, interviewing constantly, and losing my fucking mind at the same time. I ended up being out of work for one year and one month to the day. Once I had a steady schedule, a job I excelled at, and a team that supported me, I felt more myself than ever before! I had been out of work for long stretches before, but never on my own. I had a boyfriend at the time who seemed supportive but it was only words, I would later find out. And while I have always had a great support system in my friends and chosen family, when everyone else is struggling as well, it just doesn’t seem right to ask of them too.
Image result for on my own
I realized during this vast stretch of time on my own that it was the first time in my life that I’d truly and deeply had been alone. I was forced to process and deal with things that I’d never confronted before. I had no roommate, except for my puggo, and no one within 20 miles for comfort or whining or whatever else I felt I needed at the time. It was also the beginning of the end of a 4-year and completely sexless relationship (yeah, that…it never happened, not even once). Unwilling to let go of that very last tether, I simply held on until I could right myself and find my footing in the world again.
Then I finally couldn’t continue to settle for a smaller and less satisfying life than I had set out for myself when I left my husband. I broke up with said boyfriend. It took me a month of processing and mourning the relationship before I did what I knew I needed to. And then they talked me into giving them a second chance, something I hadn’t done before. Let’s just say I won’t be doing it again, either. Ha! So then that was it. I was truly and completely alone…only stoked about it!
For the first time in my adult life I had no paramours or beau, no crushes and no prospects. For the first time I wasn’t chasing or being chased and it felt surprisingly great! I’d been dating (or married) non-stop since I was 12 years old (technically 11, but only by a week). I decided to just fucking chill, ya know? And I relished in it! I read more, I hung out with coworkers more, I just felt more relaxed within myself and more my true self than ever.
When I was wrongly fired from that job (long story), I thought I’d be fine. It didn’t seem as scary as before and yet things felt way worse sooner than I could have imagined. Luckily my friends, former coworkers, and fat community held me up and encouraged me a lot. I was only out of work for three months this time and yet it felt even more desperate than the year previous. I had no safety net, no (selfish) boyfriend, no savings, and for the first time at that point no credit card to fall back on. It was the realest form of alone ever. I freaked out a lot.
To make some room in my non-existent budget I gave up the one thing that had been helping my anxiety so much, cannabis. There were days and nights that bled together and had me literally climbing the walls of my tiny studio/in-law unit. My puggo is a great comfort, but he can’t do it all, ya know? So this was just the toughest of times, and then the holidays hit.
I had never felt more alone in my entire fucking life until that x-mas, early evening. My nearest and dearest were out of town, my family estranged. I dove head first into a terrible bottle of red wine (brand was Bitch with a fab label, but do not drink that shit, trust!). I drank the entire thing in under an hour. Have you ever tried to fucking chug red wine?! DO NOT! I was not kind to myself that night. It was an old self destructive habit that crept up and snatched me, I swear! I guess I was just desperate to numb the pain, but there’s many more layers to it than that.
After sleeping it off, I decidedly pulled myself together and cooked myself a damned x-mas dinner, at 9 pm. Ha-ha! It was actually hella good. It was a Trader Joe’s Thanksgiving Casserole, I highly recommend it if you catch it. I ate that thing for a week, but I digress. I sat with my thoughts while the casserole was in the oven. I didn’t have any screens or even music on. I just sat on my bed and took a deep and hard look at my situation and myself and the life I wanted. It was then that I realized that being single was just alright with me. I had tried to date off and on after the breakup, but just lost interest.
That week between x-mas and new year’s was more of that same soul searching kind of thing. I decided to double down and really go all in on my job hunting. I know what I am capable of. I know what I can and have accomplished. I reminded myself of this and so did my bffs. My PTSD symptoms didn’t pop up this go ’round and I hadn’t had a panic attack in over a year. When January hit I was in full force and how! WHEW! I interviewed every single weekday for a 5 weeks solid and I mean in person and phone interviews, usually back to back. It was intense and exhausting and terrible but I did it and I found a job that fit!
Image result for bitch wine
Having a job, especially one that I feel challenged and stimulated, needed and wanted, makes all the difference in the world. For my mental health especially! Without the usual workday schedule and social cues that go with it, I quite literally fall apart. Now that I’ve been at this job for 7 months, I feel pretty great! Still not dating, still no crushes. I have people who are interested in me like that, but one has become a friendship (thank goodness because they’re awesome just not a romantic match for me) and another who I just don’t even know what to do about (they text me “good morning beautiful” every single day, but we’ve only had 2 dates in 3 months). It’s fine. I am good on my own.
Something shifted in me a couple of weeks after starting my current job. I don’t know what and I don’t know how, it’s pretty tough to explain honestly. I tell my friends and joke about being dead inside but my lovely dance partner explained that it doesn’t seem that way to interact with me. Which is a relief but also just makes describing how I feel harder. Like, I don’t get as excited or upset about anything anymore. I feel things, but not most things. Prior to this happening I was considering seeking anti-depressants for the first time in my life, in the hopes of regaining my energy to do life things like housework and errands. Then when this change occurred it just felt like a relief in a way. Now I’m pretty darn comfortable with it. It’s better than feeling all the things or depressed or anxious all of the time.
I’m still me. I’m still fucking awesome. I’m just calmer, I guess. I rarely even cry anymore, which kind of sucks. A good cry can be very refreshing, even cleansing, or so the Victorians believed. There have been moments when this dead inside thing did make things hard as fuck. I had a conflict with a friend and there were tears and when they hugged me and were just sobbing into my shoulder, I felt nothing at all and it was hella awkward. Yes I said all the right things, but I’m certain it was weird for them, too.
A few people in my life have mentioned to me that I am much quieter than they have ever seen me before. What’s to say? *Shrugs* Seriously, though, maybe this is some sort of new coping mechanism since the world is almost literally and completely a dumpster fire at this point in time. Things were bad before I started this job and have only worsened, and yet I don’t feel nauseated every time I log into my social media accounts like I did then. Meh.
I still feel really good about being alone, though. I seek it out now! It’s odd and not at all what I would have expected had you told me this even last year! I enjoy my own company, I seek out new things on my own, and I ride my own melt. Life is good. It’s not great, but I’m grateful for every breath I get in this world. I have lost people I cared deeply for, some I didn’t know well, others I knew for decades. Cancer is an indiscriminate bastard! I was lucky enough to not lose my best friend to cancer, it was in their body, but it was removed entirely. I thank the stars above every day for that!
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I do feel as though I’m gaining some traction, as hard as things have been and seem at times. Stability is a wonderful thing if you can find it. I think I have minimized, ignored, pretended, and hid my mental breakdowns far more than I realized these last few years. I’m learning to be more open about it and face what happened in a very real way. Like, I know what my issues are, I know how to talk about them and do often, but being able to actually say, “Yeah, I have really struggled with my mental health for the last 3 years and have had a few breakdowns in that time.” is very new as in the last two weeks. It’s not that I wasn’t aware, but somehow saying the words felt like burdening others. Over that! Ha-ha!
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Thank you for reading. I have such a deep longing to write on the regular again. I just don’t know how to get it back. I will keep trying and you have my undying gratitude for paying any attention to this silly ol’ blog o’ mine. **Hugs**
Rad Fatty Love to ALL,

<3
S


P.S. Check out and use the hashtag: #FatAndFree on Instagram & Facebook!

Check out the Fat AF podcast on your favorite podcast app for all things fat sex with me and my BFF, Michaela! (You can listen straight from the web, too!)

Donate to this blog here: https://www.paypal.me/notblueatall

My blog’s Facebook page for things I share that aren’t on this blog (and updated daily): http://on.fb.me/1A18fAS 

Or get the same “shared” content on Twitter: @NotBlueAtAll

Are you on MeWe? I started a fat-feminist group there called, Rad Fatties Unlimited, look for it!

I also have an Instagram, though I need to get back into posting there: https://instagram.com/notblueatall/

And as always, please feel free to drop me a line in comments here or write me an email, I love hearing from readers. (Tell me your troubles, I don’t judge.): notblueatall@notblueatall.com

**I’m in love with my new glasses from BonLook.com, they just arrived yesterday, but I’ve wanted them for over a year!

Single & Ready to Mingle…with Feminists!

June14

Ever set your mind to do something even though you know it’s probably not the best thing to do but you do it anyway because it just feels necessary? It is one thing to push myself out of my comfort zone, it is another thing all together to do something that I know isn’t for me. I think that there are some things that just cannot be forced. I know that I don’t like any food that was originally derived from the sea. I know this. I have tried all the things and they were all terrible. I’m forty years old and I get to decide this for myself. Sometimes there are moments in my life where I say to myself, “This is just what adults do! You can do it, too!” regardless of my actual feelings about whatever that things is in the moment.

Remember that “ex” (that technically isn’t an ex at all since we never dated, but wev) from my Eat Your Heart Out post? Yeah. So…they were in town and I decided that it was perfectly okay to seduce them and sleep with them, even though I have zero feelings for them, because that is what grown ups can do if they want, right?! Ha-ha! UGH!  For the same reasons I kissed him when we met for tea after work several weeks ago, curiosity. Curiosity about if I would feel anything, if my memories were accurate (they were not!) and if I could sleep with someone I didn’t have feelings for. The answer to all of that is NOPE! I mean, I did the thing, and I don’t regret it, but it was not good for me.

Before

He just looked at me the way I should be looked at, and said the right things and was very respectful and never would have dreamed of making a move on me or sleeping with me again though he admits he’s in love with me now. I had remembered him being exceptional in bed and well that rose colored memory became crystal clear to be bullshit pretty damned quick! Perhaps my inexperience played a role, not that I’ve had several lovers since then (I wish!), but more likely it’s because of my own self work and exploration that has upped my game.

After

To have someone worship your body is an experience I would wish on everyone. I have been fortunate to have several lovers of this variety and it has always been…transcendent. So to have this time feel wrong just kind of sucked. I wanted it to happen. I made it happen! My “O” and my pleasure was centered entirely and it was still not good. It was much to do with not having feelings for them, but more so due to their ignorance of how the female anatomy works (I’m guessing). So, while I “got off” it definitely wasn’t bliss. And it just goes to show how much I need to feel emotionally connected to someone. The “ex” had a great time and insisted I stay the night and seemed shocked that I left not long after this interlude.

For me it is the mental seduction that is always more alluring. The banter that leads to seduction. Those will they or won’t they moments. Good conversation often plays a bigger role for me than the typical foreplay. That is what has kept me going back to my usual service provider for the last year and some months, though there’s nothing more between us. It’s still flirty and thrilling and hot, but we don’t have the typical feels for each other. I don’t really get why that works and sleeping with someone I was crazy about years ago didn’t. I do know that this episode has left me processing my shit heavily! Monday I felt nearly sick with confusion because of it. I never hesitate to go deep into my psyche and sort shit out, but this one did give me pause. Why did I want this? What was I trying to prove?

Honestly, walking out of the Westin Saint Francis Hotel in Union Square (SF) that night I felt like a total badass. Waking up the next morning made me feel something I hadn’t before and that was an eye opener. I have since given myself a lot of time to sort out those feelings and the whats and whys of the situation. I have no regrets. I have no need to see that person again. If anything it made me miss my service provider so much more than ever! I guess I just needed to test the waters of all of that. It felt safe with someone I already knew and had slept with before. And hey, they still think the sun shines out my ass so all is right in the world! Ha-ha!

I am happy being single. I’m in no hurry to “find someone” or settle down or whatever. I have no deep longing or yearning to be partnered up, but that is what I want, a partner. I want my equal. I don’t seek perfection, but I do want a whole human being and not someone looking to be completed or fulfilled by others emotional labors. I do think a factor in this latest (is it a tryst?) encounter was that he wasn’t a feminist (thinks he is but I can assure you he is not). My service provider may be a goofball and a knucklehead, but they’re a feminist through and through. I can’t even socialize with non-feminists. Why participate in my own oppression?! Fuck that!

So yeah, I’m on a lot of the typical dating apps and enjoy meeting people, but I’m beyond selective at this point. I start almost every conversation on those apps with, “Do you call yourself a feminist?” and their answers are always very telling. It’s either a hell yes or a hell no. If the first message from anyone refers to my ass (and its bountiful beauty), I will block them. If they refer to women as female or girls, I will block them. If they start off with vulgar descriptions of what they want to do to me, no matter how delightful that may sound, I will block them. I am not here for that and I have no time for games and bullshit. It’s not just cis men either. I date anyone, but I’m looking for that connection, ya know? C’est la vie!

Rad Fatty Love to ALL,

<3
S

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