Saturday, April 20, 2013

Sexuality...gender...love.

As if she was telling me she was ordering a blt sandwich, my youngest told me that she is bi-sexual yesterday.

I already knew, but smiled at her and suppressed my urge to do my happy dance right there in the restaurant.

You see...for her to BE and FEEL so comfortable that she could tell me so easily....that is like receiving the gold medal of parenting my friends.

She's only 14 years old but wise beyond her years.
She then expressed sympathy for a friend who is gay and doesn't feel she can come out to her parents. I empathised with her and offered her friend our home as a safe haven if needed. My lovebug had already told her friend our home(and her parents, us) would always be supportive. Aww, she knows us so well.

I know not everyone she meets in her life will be so excepting. However, I can only hope we've done our job as parents to give her that unconditional support so she'll have the strength to put up with the world's bullshit.

My baby is growing up. I look at her and I see so many possibilities for her. So much has changed since I was her age. She has so many positive role models in her life that are gay, straight, bi-sexual, etc.
She doesn't have to ever feel like she's alone. For this I am grateful.

It takes more than just two parents/people to raise your children these days.

To those friends and family that have been there since day one....

I love you and thank you.
xo


Thursday, April 18, 2013

my little wet dream....

I'm a dreamer....literally. I dream every night. Often several times a night.

My sex dreams are few and far between, unfortunately. However, when I have them, they are erotic, dark and leave me breathless when I wake.

I like to try to interpret my dreams on occasion...if the dream seems particularly peculiar. I've given up long ago trying to understand why my subconscious doesn't let me have sex/orgasms in my dreams however.
I feel cheated.
Oh I will start to have sex....and then...bam...monkey girl is wide awake. Every single time since I can remember my first sex dream. Not once have I ever consummated a relationship in my dreams.
My subconscious must really just like to screw with me. Figuratively, of course.

Last night, I was tied up. My dream lover was teasing me relentlessly. He had me hanging by my wrists, while he stood there and played with me.

"Don't come..." he said.

As his fingers played with me and I wiggled in order to gain release, he kept repeating that over and over.

Pressure began to build. He stood there smiling knowing full well how close I was to coming.

"I'll punish you if you come" he said.

I'm sure he felt me clench on his fingers with that threat, for his eyebrow arched in that knowing manner.
I'm so fucked, I thought.

I couldn't concentrate on anything but his fingers. Those fingers that seem to know just where to rub and play with me.

As I felt my orgasm began to tingle...



The groan in my throat wasn't from an orgasm....my alarm went off. Shit.

No orgasm for monkey girl...as usual.




Tuesday, April 9, 2013

and then he married....

Until late 2011, my brother was living in Chicago. Every six months or so I'd fly out to visit and stay with him in his small studio just blocks from the heart of Frank Lloyd Wright's historic district.

In spring, we'd walk the blocks and discuss the homes architecture...and in the winter we'd take the train downtown and wander museums and galleries and stop for late dinners.

We're close. Closer than most siblings I suspect. Up until March of 2011 he was engaged to marry. She was a young little thing(13 years younger). She seemed sweet...if not naïve. I'd only see her for a few dinners when I was in town. I didn't stay long(3-4 days) and she seemed to respect that we like to spend time together just the two of us. I never understood what he saw in her. Yes, she was beautiful. However, she wasn't particularly bright. I always felt he needed someone who would challenge intellectually. He's a prolific reader like me, and we'd often discuss our current reading. One night over fondue, she blurted out how much she hated reading. The statement just hung there in mid air. I wasn't sure where to go with her confession, and my brother continued talking as if she hadn't even spoken.

Thursday, April 4, 2013

my white picket fence...

I never dreamt of the typical white picket fence.
After years in state care, and later adopted, I only hoped for an existence free from loneliness, guilt, violence, and mental illness(my mother's).

Those things seem so far away now that I'm free from them.
But then, they encompassed my everyday life and I hated that life.
The day I knew I'd be free was the day my real life would begin.
My life.
My own.
No one else's.

That was what I dreamed of....being free.

At whatever cost, I craved it, needed it.

Two weeks to the day after I graduated from high school, I moved out, and left early for college.

I never looked back.

My white picket fence was a shabby one room apartment across the street from the university. God, it was ugly, but it was mine. Green carpet, 1970s decor and all, and I loved it.

Every year my white picket fence changed. Each one left its own mark on me and I on it. From sleepy college town to The City....to another country.

Sometimes I feel I might still be waiting for my real life to begin. But then I look around, see the faces of those I love, see the little things I've collected along the way....and realise, this is My Journey.

Even when I was a skinny little girl with a different name waiting for a family to love me. That was My Journey then.

My white picket fence is so different but it's mine.


Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Unexpected

it's unexpected these feelings.
not sure how to file them away.
makes me want to do things.
fills me with doubt.

if I'm honest.
it's to a fault.
maybe this is my problem.
an inability to let go.

fills me with a need to be free.
makes me want to do things.
it's unexpected these feelings.
not sure how to file them away.