Showing posts with label blog thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blog thoughts. Show all posts
Friday, June 28, 2013
Saturday, June 22, 2013
Regaining life
Something I did not expect happened to me in May. I was offered a chance at a new life. It was presented in the form of a change switch: switch departments with a coworker and have some of the change I've been asking for from my work. Ok then.
I had no idea it was going to be so life-changing for me. I didn't move desks or even titles. I just switched responsibilities and my life was free. The change wasn't immediately felt. It took weeks of transition and training to get to something new.... and there it was.
Free time.
Something I hadn't quite experienced at this level for more than two years.
Two years.
I knew my life was out of balance, but I had no idea just how much it was until I actually came home from work - during the week - and found out I was bored. I had nothing to do! No work during the week in the evenings? Home by 7p every night? No full day of work during the weekend?
What am I going to do with myself?!
For the first week or so, I came home and just plopped on the couch, bored. I was not used to this free time and felt helpless. My fiance tried to make suggestions: paint, read, play a game, clean, laundry, draw, go shoe shopping, suck his penis, etc etc. It was so weird: so many choices and I had no idea which one to pick.
It wasn't like any of them were the wrong choice, just that I wasn't used to have any choice at all. Faced with so many choices, I froze.
I haven't had a choice in a couple of years.
When I started this blog a year and a half or so ago, I spent my weekends writing 2-3 entries while my fiance was ignored for most of a Saturday. It became a problem so I pulled back and writing and the number of entries and my stats reflected that. The past eight or six months have been a dreadful pause on writing; but I, as one person, can only do so much.
And now that I'm in a new department, I can breathe again! Live again! I was speaking with a coworker about this and found myself saying, "Yeah, I have time for a hobby again" and I just stopped speaking. What's a hobby?
I cannot believe I've been living life of 60-70 hour work weeks for so long, I've given up on any sort of hobby. Or life.
I have (or will have) a life again! I have no idea what to do with all of this time -- but surely I will find a way to occupy myself, right?
Step one: catch up on blogging.
I had no idea it was going to be so life-changing for me. I didn't move desks or even titles. I just switched responsibilities and my life was free. The change wasn't immediately felt. It took weeks of transition and training to get to something new.... and there it was.
Free time.
Something I hadn't quite experienced at this level for more than two years.
Two years.
I knew my life was out of balance, but I had no idea just how much it was until I actually came home from work - during the week - and found out I was bored. I had nothing to do! No work during the week in the evenings? Home by 7p every night? No full day of work during the weekend?
What am I going to do with myself?!
For the first week or so, I came home and just plopped on the couch, bored. I was not used to this free time and felt helpless. My fiance tried to make suggestions: paint, read, play a game, clean, laundry, draw, go shoe shopping, suck his penis, etc etc. It was so weird: so many choices and I had no idea which one to pick.
It wasn't like any of them were the wrong choice, just that I wasn't used to have any choice at all. Faced with so many choices, I froze.
I haven't had a choice in a couple of years.
When I started this blog a year and a half or so ago, I spent my weekends writing 2-3 entries while my fiance was ignored for most of a Saturday. It became a problem so I pulled back and writing and the number of entries and my stats reflected that. The past eight or six months have been a dreadful pause on writing; but I, as one person, can only do so much.
And now that I'm in a new department, I can breathe again! Live again! I was speaking with a coworker about this and found myself saying, "Yeah, I have time for a hobby again" and I just stopped speaking. What's a hobby?
I cannot believe I've been living life of 60-70 hour work weeks for so long, I've given up on any sort of hobby. Or life.
I have (or will have) a life again! I have no idea what to do with all of this time -- but surely I will find a way to occupy myself, right?
Step one: catch up on blogging.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Red Region's Sexiest Blogs List
So, I am quite delighted and surprised to have made the blogroll list of "Sexiest Blogs of 2012" as rated by Reg Region Inferno! Unlike some other lists I've seen, Red Region complied this list himself of blogs that he has found. He did not ask for submissions, suggestions, or opinions. I'm quite honored!
The full list can be found here: http://www.redregioninferno.com/theinferno/top-blogs-2012/ and I highly recommend that you check it out along with the blogs on there. Many of these blogs are ones that I read (or try to read) regularly and the others, well, I have some reading to do!
One thing that took me aback is that: I can't recall ever visiting Red's blog prior to being notified I was placed on his list! That's a shame. I went through many of his prior entries and it's another blog I need to add to my reading list. What I really like is that he is an artist, and his work is regularly featured on the blog. You need to take a look at his artwork and I'll be surprised if it doesn't turn you on.
Thank you! And happy reading!
The full list can be found here: http://www.redregioninferno.com/theinferno/top-blogs-2012/ and I highly recommend that you check it out along with the blogs on there. Many of these blogs are ones that I read (or try to read) regularly and the others, well, I have some reading to do!
One thing that took me aback is that: I can't recall ever visiting Red's blog prior to being notified I was placed on his list! That's a shame. I went through many of his prior entries and it's another blog I need to add to my reading list. What I really like is that he is an artist, and his work is regularly featured on the blog. You need to take a look at his artwork and I'll be surprised if it doesn't turn you on.
Thank you! And happy reading!
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Uhhh, what happened?
Sometimes plans just don't work out. Like, having nearly 14 days off in the last half of December would mean I could fit in a lot of writing and actually get ahead on my blog. I could write up a year in review and think about my 2013 plans and resolutions and post the list as a goal for the New Year.
Well, things didn't quite turn out that way. First, it was a seriously time crunch on my end for Christmas shopping where I was spending many evenings shopping when I thought I would have this all wrapped up (literally). Then work spilled over into my holidays as I ended up having to work and manage social media for my real-life job since the newest employee wasn't set-up or ready to handle it yet. And then, I got a little carried away with cooking and baking and lost huge chunks of time to my kitchen.
And then things just went south. On Christmas Eve, my dishwasher broke. It broke right as I was preparing a full turkey dinner and finishing my baking -- so there was an entire day of just managing dishes & the kitchen. (And on the brighter side, I've no money to replace it, so it looks like we'll be living without for quite a while.)
The day after Christmas, I got sick. Really sick. In fact, a week later, I'm still sick. I was told it's the flu, but since I'm not improving I think another visit to the doctor may be in order. I spent my last 7 days off, including the only 3 my fiance also had off of work, being so sick I couldn't even contemplate getting naked (due to chills) or having sex (complete lack of energy or interest).
I'm mad as hell over this. My plans were going to be:
I've no year-end summary, although I'd still like to write one.
I haven't even fully thought-out my resolutions, but I still plan to.
I will get to these, somehow, once I am recovered enough to really sit and think clearly.
I'm supposed to return to work tomorrow, but I have no idea when I'll actually return to work. Tomorrow is the kick-off of huge work project due in February, so I know I'll be doing a hybrid sick day/work from home day to at least stay current and contribute as I can. I'm so glad I have a job that can flex like this; I only wish it wasn't coming at the very start of the year where I should be well rested for the pile of work that will be waiting for my inevitable return to the office.
In short, I've not abandoned my blog. Really. I'm still fairly active in twitter (I try to keep my complaints about being sick to a minimum, really I do). It's just for the very, very near future, I can't write or even scribble together anything worth reading.
Happy freaking new year.
Well, things didn't quite turn out that way. First, it was a seriously time crunch on my end for Christmas shopping where I was spending many evenings shopping when I thought I would have this all wrapped up (literally). Then work spilled over into my holidays as I ended up having to work and manage social media for my real-life job since the newest employee wasn't set-up or ready to handle it yet. And then, I got a little carried away with cooking and baking and lost huge chunks of time to my kitchen.
And then things just went south. On Christmas Eve, my dishwasher broke. It broke right as I was preparing a full turkey dinner and finishing my baking -- so there was an entire day of just managing dishes & the kitchen. (And on the brighter side, I've no money to replace it, so it looks like we'll be living without for quite a while.)
The day after Christmas, I got sick. Really sick. In fact, a week later, I'm still sick. I was told it's the flu, but since I'm not improving I think another visit to the doctor may be in order. I spent my last 7 days off, including the only 3 my fiance also had off of work, being so sick I couldn't even contemplate getting naked (due to chills) or having sex (complete lack of energy or interest).
I'm mad as hell over this. My plans were going to be:
- Spending a lot of time writing while my fiance was at work.
- Playing housewife while he worked (something I rarely get to do anymore and I do love to indulge my domestic side).
- Paint the entryway of our home
- Relax.
I've no year-end summary, although I'd still like to write one.
I haven't even fully thought-out my resolutions, but I still plan to.
I will get to these, somehow, once I am recovered enough to really sit and think clearly.
I'm supposed to return to work tomorrow, but I have no idea when I'll actually return to work. Tomorrow is the kick-off of huge work project due in February, so I know I'll be doing a hybrid sick day/work from home day to at least stay current and contribute as I can. I'm so glad I have a job that can flex like this; I only wish it wasn't coming at the very start of the year where I should be well rested for the pile of work that will be waiting for my inevitable return to the office.
In short, I've not abandoned my blog. Really. I'm still fairly active in twitter (I try to keep my complaints about being sick to a minimum, really I do). It's just for the very, very near future, I can't write or even scribble together anything worth reading.
Happy freaking new year.
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
My biggest regret, or another reason I'm a sex blogger
My biggest regret has nothing and everything to do with my ex. As much as I want to separate him from it, or include him even to the point of blaming him, I know that's not fair. There is no point of the finger or easy fix to this. And it haunts me.
This will take some explaining.
I was a 16 year old high school graduate (I know I was young -- but homeschooling does have its advantages sometimes)... who wanted to go to college, but whose parents were completely against letting their underage daughter on any university campus. As a compromise, I agreed to go to a very conservative, private Christian college where the dorms had curfews and class attendance was mandatory, so I would be well watched. I was.
I started out as a religious studies major, as I've always loved world religions and how man interacts with them. I met my ex, my first real boyfriend. We started dating in February, and by May I was convinced he was "the one." I spent the year in France studying the French language, and fell in love with what felt like my people and my home. I visited the little French village my grandfather lived in and the home he stayed in during World War 2. My heritage, my home.
Coming back to the States made me an emotional wreck. The first few weeks back at college were terrible. I was depressed and homesick. Now 18, I considered running away... but with a zero balance in the bank knew I wouldn't get far after I charged a plane ticket to my credit card.
I remember sitting at my desk in my dorm room, crying. Sobbing. I was mourning my loss. I had wanted to stay - another 2 trimesters and I would have been ready for the DALF exam to gain access to French Universities --- and then just run off into the sunset of French education. But no, I rocked myself in my chair, arms crossed, and wept. I was stuck... the ex and I were now engaged, and I remember thinking, as I rocked in my chair, how dangerous continuing this relationship was. I wasn't sure if my love for him was as strong as my love for France/Home. I remember saying aloud, "I hope I don't hurt him."
The wedding was 4 weeks after graduation. I ended up a dual major, French and Psychology. I loved both equally. In French I found myself, in Psychology I pursued my interest in sex and research. Every project I completed was related to sex. My senior project had a huge representative sample size and showed a statistically significant correlation between pornography use and sexual activity on our campus. Entirely shocking for our extremely conservative campus; I liked to talk about what no one else would.
Graduation. We both wanted grad school. I was torn - French, or Psychology? In French, I could teach, write, talk, travel. I could still connect to that Home. In Psychology, I could continue learning, teaching, and researching. I loved the research. I couldn't decide, and he did. We mapped out our future like this:
1. Marriage
2. He attends grad school for 5 years while I support him
3. I attend grad school for 5 years while he supports me
4. We start a family and live happily ever after
Here's the problem: I had 2 degrees that require either a teaching certificate or Masters in order to work in those fields, so I ended up working in business -- an area I had no interest in, but could use my ability to teach and work with people to become a trainer and problem solver.
During his 3rd year of grad school, I was already tired of waiting for my turn. I could feel the clock ticking on my ability to transition to a grad program where either a knowledge of very advanced French grammar and vocab OR statistics and all those personality theories would be required. Each semester he was in school, I felt like I was bleeding knowledge. French words came slower; some were forgotten. I wasn't using the language and it was dying inside of me.
In my free time, I researched programs. When I read about Middlebury College and its language programs, part of me died. It was the heaven I wanted in a grad program! But it was so impractical - we were married. Spouses don't just up and live across the country and neither one work and both go to expensive grad programs! So I would wait. And the clock ticked. And more language died in me.
I turned back to Psychology -- and sex. And fascination grew. I loved sex - reading about it, studying it, researching it -- and yet, my sex life SUCKED. I hated sex in real life.... I was so unhappy. Disconnected. I did research. I tried to fix things. Resentment grew for many reasons. But could I actually go down the route of Sexual Psychology? Sexual Anthropology? Counseling Psychology? If I was such a fail in my own life, how could I even consider it professionally? And so the dream died within me.
When I was out of options, I turned to TESOL. This was a program that worked with languages and could be used in the USA or anywhere in the world where an English teacher was needed. If I were ever on my own, I could go anywhere... and not be stuck wasting my talents where I wasn't sure they belonged. So during his fourth year of grad school, I researched schools and planned. During his fifth year I applied, and three months after his graduation, I started my own grad program.
At another private school. A year after his graduation, we were getting divorced. In the mess of things, I didn't stop to think about this consequences of this program, until I was 2 semesters from graduation and realized: my monthly student loan bills + rent + transportation would eat up almost my entire paycheck in this new career field. And that was positive thinking.
I quit the program. Officially I'm on a leave of absence for personal reasons while I consider throwing away 18 credits of grad school in a career and degree I'll probably never use.
So, now what? I'm 28. I owe nearly $60k in student loans. And now, more than ever, do I regret not making the choice to make Psychology and my love of sex a career. I started reading otherwise dull, academic books about sex while I was an undergrad. I am made for this career.
I love to teach. Talk. Listen. Challenge. Research. I've had such a journey from sexual mismatch horror to such perfect connection.... I know so much about exploration and kink. I come from a conservative background - something I still wrestle with in understanding how I think about things.
I've talked a lot about why I'm a sex blogger: Joy. Joy that has to be shared. Joy spilling out. The simple fact is: I love sex. Not just experiencing it. I love the biology of it across all animals. I love the emotional aspect. I love the cognitive process of sex. And that's a major reason why I write this blog: It's my passion.
My passion is sharing, exploring, and hopefully helping others explore and find their satisfaction. I write because if I don't I cannot focus on anything else until its done. I have to write. I've limited this blog to my own sexual experiences for the most part. Perhaps I need to expand to include some of the books and articles I read.
But deep down, there's nothing that I want more than to make this my career. But at $60k in the hole on student loans, I'm not sure I can even afford a student life, not to mention the bill for when in 2-7 years I completely program and press "restart" on my career and debt repayments.
I feel stuck. Trapped. At the bottom of a well.
There is no one to blame. I could blame my parents for limiting my scope of choice in a college and the possibilities connected with that. I could blame my ex for stealing 6 years of possible grad school from me and being OK with me throwing my dreams down the toilet in the name of "love."
Really, I can blame myself. I do blame myself. All along this story I've made choices, and they were ones where my gut was always conflicted. Torn. Uncertain. I'm not sure I ever chose the right road.
Right now I feel conflicted, torn, and uncertain. I don't know what choice to make.
This will take some explaining.
I was a 16 year old high school graduate (I know I was young -- but homeschooling does have its advantages sometimes)... who wanted to go to college, but whose parents were completely against letting their underage daughter on any university campus. As a compromise, I agreed to go to a very conservative, private Christian college where the dorms had curfews and class attendance was mandatory, so I would be well watched. I was.
I started out as a religious studies major, as I've always loved world religions and how man interacts with them. I met my ex, my first real boyfriend. We started dating in February, and by May I was convinced he was "the one." I spent the year in France studying the French language, and fell in love with what felt like my people and my home. I visited the little French village my grandfather lived in and the home he stayed in during World War 2. My heritage, my home.
Coming back to the States made me an emotional wreck. The first few weeks back at college were terrible. I was depressed and homesick. Now 18, I considered running away... but with a zero balance in the bank knew I wouldn't get far after I charged a plane ticket to my credit card.
I remember sitting at my desk in my dorm room, crying. Sobbing. I was mourning my loss. I had wanted to stay - another 2 trimesters and I would have been ready for the DALF exam to gain access to French Universities --- and then just run off into the sunset of French education. But no, I rocked myself in my chair, arms crossed, and wept. I was stuck... the ex and I were now engaged, and I remember thinking, as I rocked in my chair, how dangerous continuing this relationship was. I wasn't sure if my love for him was as strong as my love for France/Home. I remember saying aloud, "I hope I don't hurt him."
The wedding was 4 weeks after graduation. I ended up a dual major, French and Psychology. I loved both equally. In French I found myself, in Psychology I pursued my interest in sex and research. Every project I completed was related to sex. My senior project had a huge representative sample size and showed a statistically significant correlation between pornography use and sexual activity on our campus. Entirely shocking for our extremely conservative campus; I liked to talk about what no one else would.
Graduation. We both wanted grad school. I was torn - French, or Psychology? In French, I could teach, write, talk, travel. I could still connect to that Home. In Psychology, I could continue learning, teaching, and researching. I loved the research. I couldn't decide, and he did. We mapped out our future like this:
1. Marriage
2. He attends grad school for 5 years while I support him
3. I attend grad school for 5 years while he supports me
4. We start a family and live happily ever after
Here's the problem: I had 2 degrees that require either a teaching certificate or Masters in order to work in those fields, so I ended up working in business -- an area I had no interest in, but could use my ability to teach and work with people to become a trainer and problem solver.
During his 3rd year of grad school, I was already tired of waiting for my turn. I could feel the clock ticking on my ability to transition to a grad program where either a knowledge of very advanced French grammar and vocab OR statistics and all those personality theories would be required. Each semester he was in school, I felt like I was bleeding knowledge. French words came slower; some were forgotten. I wasn't using the language and it was dying inside of me.
In my free time, I researched programs. When I read about Middlebury College and its language programs, part of me died. It was the heaven I wanted in a grad program! But it was so impractical - we were married. Spouses don't just up and live across the country and neither one work and both go to expensive grad programs! So I would wait. And the clock ticked. And more language died in me.
I turned back to Psychology -- and sex. And fascination grew. I loved sex - reading about it, studying it, researching it -- and yet, my sex life SUCKED. I hated sex in real life.... I was so unhappy. Disconnected. I did research. I tried to fix things. Resentment grew for many reasons. But could I actually go down the route of Sexual Psychology? Sexual Anthropology? Counseling Psychology? If I was such a fail in my own life, how could I even consider it professionally? And so the dream died within me.
When I was out of options, I turned to TESOL. This was a program that worked with languages and could be used in the USA or anywhere in the world where an English teacher was needed. If I were ever on my own, I could go anywhere... and not be stuck wasting my talents where I wasn't sure they belonged. So during his fourth year of grad school, I researched schools and planned. During his fifth year I applied, and three months after his graduation, I started my own grad program.
At another private school. A year after his graduation, we were getting divorced. In the mess of things, I didn't stop to think about this consequences of this program, until I was 2 semesters from graduation and realized: my monthly student loan bills + rent + transportation would eat up almost my entire paycheck in this new career field. And that was positive thinking.
I quit the program. Officially I'm on a leave of absence for personal reasons while I consider throwing away 18 credits of grad school in a career and degree I'll probably never use.
So, now what? I'm 28. I owe nearly $60k in student loans. And now, more than ever, do I regret not making the choice to make Psychology and my love of sex a career. I started reading otherwise dull, academic books about sex while I was an undergrad. I am made for this career.
I love to teach. Talk. Listen. Challenge. Research. I've had such a journey from sexual mismatch horror to such perfect connection.... I know so much about exploration and kink. I come from a conservative background - something I still wrestle with in understanding how I think about things.
I've talked a lot about why I'm a sex blogger: Joy. Joy that has to be shared. Joy spilling out. The simple fact is: I love sex. Not just experiencing it. I love the biology of it across all animals. I love the emotional aspect. I love the cognitive process of sex. And that's a major reason why I write this blog: It's my passion.
My passion is sharing, exploring, and hopefully helping others explore and find their satisfaction. I write because if I don't I cannot focus on anything else until its done. I have to write. I've limited this blog to my own sexual experiences for the most part. Perhaps I need to expand to include some of the books and articles I read.
But deep down, there's nothing that I want more than to make this my career. But at $60k in the hole on student loans, I'm not sure I can even afford a student life, not to mention the bill for when in 2-7 years I completely program and press "restart" on my career and debt repayments.
I feel stuck. Trapped. At the bottom of a well.
There is no one to blame. I could blame my parents for limiting my scope of choice in a college and the possibilities connected with that. I could blame my ex for stealing 6 years of possible grad school from me and being OK with me throwing my dreams down the toilet in the name of "love."
Really, I can blame myself. I do blame myself. All along this story I've made choices, and they were ones where my gut was always conflicted. Torn. Uncertain. I'm not sure I ever chose the right road.
Right now I feel conflicted, torn, and uncertain. I don't know what choice to make.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2012
I found out today that I was nominated for, and was included, in the Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2012! I had no idea I was nominated so this came as a complete surprise. I'm shocked, honored, and so excited! I don't know all of these bloggers, so I'm going to start reading and, hopefully, find some new blogs to love and explore.
The Top 100 Sex Blogger list is carefully and meticulously compiled by Rori at http://www.betweenmysheets.com .
100. YOU! As always, I want to leave a place on this list for ALL the awesome sex bloggers out there! So please leave a comment on Between My Sheets with your name/URL to tell us about your sexy blog!
The Top 100 Sex Blogger list is carefully and meticulously compiled by Rori at http://www.betweenmysheets.com .
100. YOU! As always, I want to leave a place on this list for ALL the awesome sex bloggers out there! So please leave a comment on Between My Sheets with your name/URL to tell us about your sexy blog!
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Reflections
If you were following me on twitter this week, you saw the emotional rollercoaster I was on. Tuesday was a very low point for me, perhaps the lowest I've been since my divorce. I was coming up to a very important work deadline (that happened today) and at the crisis point of "It's not going to happen!"
I knew October would be busy, but the exact number of "top priority" assignments that happened turned into way too many twelve and fourteen hour days, weekend hours, high stress levels, and very little acknowledgement of just how hard I worked to make it all possible. My boss has said repeatedly he believes in having 5 "number 1 priority" assignments and being able to handle it - its part of how he manages. Well, that culminated to Tuesday, partially.
What else happened Tuesday, because I kept it off twitter, was the BF and I were having an argument. A really, really bad one. I was at work, so it all happened in angry texts (never EVER smart) and things were said out of anger and not clarified for hours.
Even in my crappy marriage, I've never fought quite like this. To some that might be surprising, but I think, when you are really in it, it means more to you and you're willing to fight harder for it.
The text that refocused me was this one:
I am sick of your job spilling over and I pay for it with you being crabby with me.
Ouch. I completely deserved that. My mentor frequently tells me that I need to get a handle on my stress. I need to learn to deal with it in a healthy way.
The thing is, I have almost zero healthy ways of dealing with stress. All I do is internalize it until I explode, like I did Tuesday night, into a pile of tears. And wait for it to happen again. It eats at me. I blame myself. I miss sleep. I skip meals. I stop worrying about my appearance. I'm way to focused on "making it better" when all I do is run around like a mad woman, not realizing I'm the problem, not the rest of the world.
For years I've struggled with "boundaries" on what is in my control vs what I think is in my control. Growing up, you just didn't make mistakes. Every mistake was considered "on purpose" and was therefore punishable. It didn't matter if you forgot or simply didn't know. You should have remembered or been smart enough to figure it out. In a way, it turned my sister and I into over-achieving machines. We both had straight A's until college where, if we got a B or B+, we cried over every test and quiz result. I have few fun stories from college because I spent so many hours studying and doing homework and working. I double majored in two degrees with ZERO overlapping credits while working part time and still managed to graduate in four years with a 3.89 GPA.
My career has been no different. If I'm not promoted at least every 18 months, I feel there's something wrong. If I'm not meeting every deadline and exceeding every expectation, there's something wrong.
That's not a bad goal to have, is it? My parents certainly don't think so. But then again, let's review my personal life. I don't exercise. I barely sleep well. I have frequent neck/head aches. I take stress home and turn on those closest to me. My life is backwards!
Tuesday night, he apologized. Then I apologized. And then I admitted something that is so hard to say: I need help. I don't know how to ask for it most of the time, but I'm going to try. I'm going to be vulnerable to him. I'm going to admit I can't do it all and I'm going to try and be open about how bad I am feeling right now.
Like the amazing, incredible man he is, he just held me and said OK. He helped me find words I needed to say, mostly by repeating, "Tell me. Just say it."
Tuesday night, I remembered to tell myself that: I'm human. Dropping the ball and not juggling all top 5 or 8 priorities is not a requirement. I will be OK.
Wednesday I approached work with a "Let's see how it goes and if its late, oh well" approach. Amazingly, more came together that day than the prior days. Accepting my limits helped me be a more stable and capable worker.
After being fingered to orgasm three times then fucked for at least 10 minutes with legs in all sorts of positions, I feel asleep reflecting on how giving up my insane need to juggle it all actually made me happy and productive. I realized what I needed: more self-acceptance and I needed to make time for myself.
Then I remembered what Kendra Holliday tweeted earlier about Maslow's hierarchy of needs: Your goal should be to reach the tip! The only way to do that is be authentic & think for yourself. Ditch the shame!
Fuck. In Maslow's hierarchy, I was living in "Safety" and flirting with Love/Belonging. At work I had Esteem, but I was nowhere near close to the top. I needed more.
I have a spare room that contains rubbermaid bins and an exercise bike. A dusty, exercise bike. Also, a yoga mat I've never used. The walls are all white. I never go in there. But what if I cleared out the bins and bought some paint? What if I bought a giant pillow for sitting on while I do some calming meditation? What if I painted half the room day and the other half night in a beautiful outdoor setting? What if the theme and purpose of that room was: peace. self-awareness. self-love.
What if I actually made myself a priority and put myself ahead of work -- only to discover what others have told me will happen -- so I can be truly successful as myself in all aspects of life?
I'm going to give it a try.
I knew October would be busy, but the exact number of "top priority" assignments that happened turned into way too many twelve and fourteen hour days, weekend hours, high stress levels, and very little acknowledgement of just how hard I worked to make it all possible. My boss has said repeatedly he believes in having 5 "number 1 priority" assignments and being able to handle it - its part of how he manages. Well, that culminated to Tuesday, partially.
What else happened Tuesday, because I kept it off twitter, was the BF and I were having an argument. A really, really bad one. I was at work, so it all happened in angry texts (never EVER smart) and things were said out of anger and not clarified for hours.
Even in my crappy marriage, I've never fought quite like this. To some that might be surprising, but I think, when you are really in it, it means more to you and you're willing to fight harder for it.
The text that refocused me was this one:
I am sick of your job spilling over and I pay for it with you being crabby with me.
Ouch. I completely deserved that. My mentor frequently tells me that I need to get a handle on my stress. I need to learn to deal with it in a healthy way.
The thing is, I have almost zero healthy ways of dealing with stress. All I do is internalize it until I explode, like I did Tuesday night, into a pile of tears. And wait for it to happen again. It eats at me. I blame myself. I miss sleep. I skip meals. I stop worrying about my appearance. I'm way to focused on "making it better" when all I do is run around like a mad woman, not realizing I'm the problem, not the rest of the world.
For years I've struggled with "boundaries" on what is in my control vs what I think is in my control. Growing up, you just didn't make mistakes. Every mistake was considered "on purpose" and was therefore punishable. It didn't matter if you forgot or simply didn't know. You should have remembered or been smart enough to figure it out. In a way, it turned my sister and I into over-achieving machines. We both had straight A's until college where, if we got a B or B+, we cried over every test and quiz result. I have few fun stories from college because I spent so many hours studying and doing homework and working. I double majored in two degrees with ZERO overlapping credits while working part time and still managed to graduate in four years with a 3.89 GPA.
My career has been no different. If I'm not promoted at least every 18 months, I feel there's something wrong. If I'm not meeting every deadline and exceeding every expectation, there's something wrong.
That's not a bad goal to have, is it? My parents certainly don't think so. But then again, let's review my personal life. I don't exercise. I barely sleep well. I have frequent neck/head aches. I take stress home and turn on those closest to me. My life is backwards!
Tuesday night, he apologized. Then I apologized. And then I admitted something that is so hard to say: I need help. I don't know how to ask for it most of the time, but I'm going to try. I'm going to be vulnerable to him. I'm going to admit I can't do it all and I'm going to try and be open about how bad I am feeling right now.
Like the amazing, incredible man he is, he just held me and said OK. He helped me find words I needed to say, mostly by repeating, "Tell me. Just say it."
Tuesday night, I remembered to tell myself that: I'm human. Dropping the ball and not juggling all top 5 or 8 priorities is not a requirement. I will be OK.
Wednesday I approached work with a "Let's see how it goes and if its late, oh well" approach. Amazingly, more came together that day than the prior days. Accepting my limits helped me be a more stable and capable worker.
After being fingered to orgasm three times then fucked for at least 10 minutes with legs in all sorts of positions, I feel asleep reflecting on how giving up my insane need to juggle it all actually made me happy and productive. I realized what I needed: more self-acceptance and I needed to make time for myself.
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| Source: Wikimedia Commons |
Then I remembered what Kendra Holliday tweeted earlier about Maslow's hierarchy of needs: Your goal should be to reach the tip! The only way to do that is be authentic & think for yourself. Ditch the shame!
Fuck. In Maslow's hierarchy, I was living in "Safety" and flirting with Love/Belonging. At work I had Esteem, but I was nowhere near close to the top. I needed more.
I have a spare room that contains rubbermaid bins and an exercise bike. A dusty, exercise bike. Also, a yoga mat I've never used. The walls are all white. I never go in there. But what if I cleared out the bins and bought some paint? What if I bought a giant pillow for sitting on while I do some calming meditation? What if I painted half the room day and the other half night in a beautiful outdoor setting? What if the theme and purpose of that room was: peace. self-awareness. self-love.
What if I actually made myself a priority and put myself ahead of work -- only to discover what others have told me will happen -- so I can be truly successful as myself in all aspects of life?
I'm going to give it a try.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Positive Reception
I write this blog in relative anonymity. In a way, I really hate having to do this. I love to be honest and just talk and share about sex and sexual experiences. I don't have a problem sharing, yet I suspect others see me as unwilling or disinterested. A couple of years ago, I was compared to "Charlotte" from SATC because, apparently, I'm viewed as very proper and not very kinky at all. If only they knew...
I've actually told 2 real life friends about this blog. The reception has been better than I really expected.
First I told a friend from college who I had actually shared a bit of my private life with before I even started my blog. I know her to be very open minded and I knew she would be understanding if not accepting of my writing. As it turns out, she really likes (possibly love) my blog. She identifies as queer and I love talking sexuality with her. I thought she would only take a look at it, but I think she's become a (semi) regular reader.
Then I told my sister. I really wasn't sure if she'd be interested, but one day I just blurted out "So I'm a sex blogger" and I didn't get much of a reaction. A few months later I mentioned it again and she wanted more details. A few days later, I sent her the blog link.
Within minutes I was getting all sorts of questions. What's pegging? What do you think of ____? What do you recommend for a vibe? What about lube?
And the floodgates of communication opened like I had always wanted but was unsure could happen. We can fully talk about sex and toys... it was such an awesome day when she told me that she no longer felt awkward talking to me about sex. She calls for advice and no question is off limits.
We don't share intimate details (OK, well I do on the blog...). At the most we share topics of how often, what we like, what we did, how sex fits into our normal routines. I've given her topic previews of what is coming up on the blog. Some things she wants to hear, others give her pause with a reaction like, "What? You had a guy over and pegged him? Wow."
There's no judgement. Not everything is a shared interest, but that would just make our conversations boring.
I couldn't have hoped for a more positive response from my college friend or my sister (my best friend). I'd love to share with a few more friends who I think might be open to my perspective, but I'm not rushing things. For now I really enjoy my anonymity and I have no intention of just outing myself to the world (however fun the initial shock might be).
In reality, it took a leap of faith for my college friend to come out to me and then for us both to share about sexuality and our personal experiences. The same could be said for my sister. If either had had a negative reaction it wouldn't have changed a thing, but I've gained so much in return. The most important is being valued for my true self, which is the best I think anyone could hope for.
On a final note, the funniest thing that's been said about my blog: "Now I know you've been naked on everything, especially your couch. I don't want to sit on it now."
My response, "Hey, we haven't spilled any bodily fluids on it!"
I've actually told 2 real life friends about this blog. The reception has been better than I really expected.
First I told a friend from college who I had actually shared a bit of my private life with before I even started my blog. I know her to be very open minded and I knew she would be understanding if not accepting of my writing. As it turns out, she really likes (possibly love) my blog. She identifies as queer and I love talking sexuality with her. I thought she would only take a look at it, but I think she's become a (semi) regular reader.
Then I told my sister. I really wasn't sure if she'd be interested, but one day I just blurted out "So I'm a sex blogger" and I didn't get much of a reaction. A few months later I mentioned it again and she wanted more details. A few days later, I sent her the blog link.
Within minutes I was getting all sorts of questions. What's pegging? What do you think of ____? What do you recommend for a vibe? What about lube?
And the floodgates of communication opened like I had always wanted but was unsure could happen. We can fully talk about sex and toys... it was such an awesome day when she told me that she no longer felt awkward talking to me about sex. She calls for advice and no question is off limits.
We don't share intimate details (OK, well I do on the blog...). At the most we share topics of how often, what we like, what we did, how sex fits into our normal routines. I've given her topic previews of what is coming up on the blog. Some things she wants to hear, others give her pause with a reaction like, "What? You had a guy over and pegged him? Wow."
There's no judgement. Not everything is a shared interest, but that would just make our conversations boring.
I couldn't have hoped for a more positive response from my college friend or my sister (my best friend). I'd love to share with a few more friends who I think might be open to my perspective, but I'm not rushing things. For now I really enjoy my anonymity and I have no intention of just outing myself to the world (however fun the initial shock might be).
In reality, it took a leap of faith for my college friend to come out to me and then for us both to share about sexuality and our personal experiences. The same could be said for my sister. If either had had a negative reaction it wouldn't have changed a thing, but I've gained so much in return. The most important is being valued for my true self, which is the best I think anyone could hope for.
On a final note, the funniest thing that's been said about my blog: "Now I know you've been naked on everything, especially your couch. I don't want to sit on it now."
My response, "Hey, we haven't spilled any bodily fluids on it!"
Monday, June 11, 2012
Our Anniversary: What we want for the future
Our anniversary is today. One year ago, I made the trip to meet him at a bus station, and drove him back to my place. It was our very first meeting. And, very unlike anything I had ever done. Have you not read our story? You should. Read first how we met, and then our story of our first night in part one and part two.
The plan was simple: he would visit for three weeks so we could get to know each other in person, and then I would go with him back up to his home and meet his family and we would decide our next steps. Of course, should things not work out, there was a bus home at any moment. Two weeks later, he asked to move in with me. I said "probably not." It was too soon, too fast. I was crazy about him; I loved him. But move in together after only 2 weeks?
And then I thought about him not being there. And how hard it was to wait for him to come and visit me. I didn't want to say goodbye.
Three days before he was to return home, he asked again. I felt so vulnerable. I told him, " You can stay, but don't break my heart." I started crying a little, so scared it would end up with me being burned by another man. He pulled me into a gentle hug, and whispered a promise in my ear he would never hurt me. I nodded my resolve to take a chance, open myself up, and said yes.
And today, it's been one year. We are so happy together we pretty much ooze love around each other.. we can't help it! From the start we agreed we wanted to be to have an entire year together before we discussed the "next step." That led to the introduction to the famous "Rule" which we started breaking last November, and in March we completely dumped it altogether. Enough time had passed, we knew: this is it.
I asked the boyfriend what his favorite moments from the past year were. His answer: "Every moment is my favorite, honey. It's been the best year of my life."
I have some special moments that I remember fondly, but in so many ways he's right. It doesn't matter what firsts we've shared or how awesome sex was last night; what's important is that we shared it together. We've fought, cried, laughed at, and shocked the one another. But nothing has ever caused us to think this was the end.
The main reason I started tweeting last October and then blogging in February was my excitement and happiness. I couldn't stand to not share our joy with someone! The world needed to know! I wish I could share with our vanilla world, but all I can hope is that our friends and family are experiencing some joy in their lives as well. It's been wonderful to share, and I can't wait to continue sharing.
The future! We are so excited for the next step and have started talking about engagement, rings, marriage, children... we see it all before us. Next month we move into a house about three times the size of our current apartment. It's just the beginning of the next stage of our journey: our home.
I asked him what he wanted for the future. He said: "House, marriage, children (born or adopted, it doesn't matter to me), a life together."
That's exactly my answer, too.
Happy Anniversary, to us.
The plan was simple: he would visit for three weeks so we could get to know each other in person, and then I would go with him back up to his home and meet his family and we would decide our next steps. Of course, should things not work out, there was a bus home at any moment. Two weeks later, he asked to move in with me. I said "probably not." It was too soon, too fast. I was crazy about him; I loved him. But move in together after only 2 weeks?
And then I thought about him not being there. And how hard it was to wait for him to come and visit me. I didn't want to say goodbye.
Three days before he was to return home, he asked again. I felt so vulnerable. I told him, " You can stay, but don't break my heart." I started crying a little, so scared it would end up with me being burned by another man. He pulled me into a gentle hug, and whispered a promise in my ear he would never hurt me. I nodded my resolve to take a chance, open myself up, and said yes.
And today, it's been one year. We are so happy together we pretty much ooze love around each other.. we can't help it! From the start we agreed we wanted to be to have an entire year together before we discussed the "next step." That led to the introduction to the famous "Rule" which we started breaking last November, and in March we completely dumped it altogether. Enough time had passed, we knew: this is it.
I asked the boyfriend what his favorite moments from the past year were. His answer: "Every moment is my favorite, honey. It's been the best year of my life."
I have some special moments that I remember fondly, but in so many ways he's right. It doesn't matter what firsts we've shared or how awesome sex was last night; what's important is that we shared it together. We've fought, cried, laughed at, and shocked the one another. But nothing has ever caused us to think this was the end.
The main reason I started tweeting last October and then blogging in February was my excitement and happiness. I couldn't stand to not share our joy with someone! The world needed to know! I wish I could share with our vanilla world, but all I can hope is that our friends and family are experiencing some joy in their lives as well. It's been wonderful to share, and I can't wait to continue sharing.
The future! We are so excited for the next step and have started talking about engagement, rings, marriage, children... we see it all before us. Next month we move into a house about three times the size of our current apartment. It's just the beginning of the next stage of our journey: our home.
I asked him what he wanted for the future. He said: "House, marriage, children (born or adopted, it doesn't matter to me), a life together."
That's exactly my answer, too.
Happy Anniversary, to us.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
To pimp out, or not to pimp out
As a sex blogger, you are sometimes offered opportunities to use your blog to advertise for other companies. I've done this a couple times with some sex toy reviews (with toys I purchased at full price and for no other reason than to share my experience, not for any kick-backs). I don't mind mentioning where I purchase an item from; I consider that part of the toy experience. There are some shops I prefer above others based on their offerings and their customer service.
But, what about accepting a toy for free in exchange for a review? Or writing a blog entry in exchange for free access or gift cards to their store? Now I am entering an agreement where, ultimately, without my blog I would never be in a position to get this product for free. So, am I pimping out my blog?
Is offering my blog up to the best free products or offers what I want to do with my blog?
I started writing this blog for two key reasons and those reasons still run strong. First, it was a way to explore my own budding sexuality within the best relationship I've ever experienced. What better way to reflect and learn than to write about it? Secondly, I wanted to show others who are in or were in my prior situation of sex-negativity that being sex-positive was possible.
You can come back from the negative. You can find a partner who truly meets your wants, desires, and expectations. While I'm not guaranteeing everything will come out 100% (as in, I will never have the dick to be the she-male my BF would love to see on me, nor do I enjoy being peed on), there is always room for discussion and compromise (as in, occasionally I do let him pee on me).
So far, I feel very good about the direction of my blog.... now do I allow in some sponsors and freebies?
My initial reaction is: yes, if it matches or enhances the purpose of my blog.
But what about if its borderline? What if its something where I'm really do it for the freebie and it has less to do with the blog post? That is where the word "pimp" and terms like "whoring out" come to play.
I obviously have some thinking to do.
I've watched the blogs of my twitter/blog friends, and I do envy when they get freebies or perks I obviously do not have. I am not the wealthiest lover of kink on the planet; I'm relatively young and fairly early in my career. I have mounds of student loans from choosing a private college over public (mis-taaaaaaake!) and I'm trying to buy my first home.
My sex toy budget is tiny. I've pretty much blown it for the year already. And I am almost in desperate need of lube again.
So... do I do it in favor of continued sexual experiences? Pimping out to sustain the blog, as it were? Or do I keep out everyone and continue on my merry way? Somehow, I think I will toe a fine line of somewhere in-between pimp and pure sex blog.
Is offering my blog up to the best free products or offers what I want to do with my blog?
I started writing this blog for two key reasons and those reasons still run strong. First, it was a way to explore my own budding sexuality within the best relationship I've ever experienced. What better way to reflect and learn than to write about it? Secondly, I wanted to show others who are in or were in my prior situation of sex-negativity that being sex-positive was possible.
You can come back from the negative. You can find a partner who truly meets your wants, desires, and expectations. While I'm not guaranteeing everything will come out 100% (as in, I will never have the dick to be the she-male my BF would love to see on me, nor do I enjoy being peed on), there is always room for discussion and compromise (as in, occasionally I do let him pee on me).
So far, I feel very good about the direction of my blog.... now do I allow in some sponsors and freebies?
My initial reaction is: yes, if it matches or enhances the purpose of my blog.
But what about if its borderline? What if its something where I'm really do it for the freebie and it has less to do with the blog post? That is where the word "pimp" and terms like "whoring out" come to play.
I obviously have some thinking to do.
I've watched the blogs of my twitter/blog friends, and I do envy when they get freebies or perks I obviously do not have. I am not the wealthiest lover of kink on the planet; I'm relatively young and fairly early in my career. I have mounds of student loans from choosing a private college over public (mis-taaaaaaake!) and I'm trying to buy my first home.
My sex toy budget is tiny. I've pretty much blown it for the year already. And I am almost in desperate need of lube again.
So... do I do it in favor of continued sexual experiences? Pimping out to sustain the blog, as it were? Or do I keep out everyone and continue on my merry way? Somehow, I think I will toe a fine line of somewhere in-between pimp and pure sex blog.
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