A small letter

Dear my future girlfriend,

What you’re about to read here is a little soppy as hell, but hopefully you will understand why this is important to me – I need to ask you for a favour;

I know that the typical response to hearing someone you love say the words ‘I love you’ is to say ‘I love you too’. This is a wonderful thing to hear, and I hope I hear it from you one day. However, there is something else I need to hear, that is just as important to me, in return for saying those three little words to you: I know.

I want to make you feel loved, and wanted, and beautiful, and… everything. Because I’m sure that to me you will be everything, even if I’m too awkward to tell you these things. So please, please tell me you know that I love you, because one of the worst feelings in the world is when you believe no one will ever love you, or that you don’t deserve to be loved. I felt this way before for the longest time, and I need to know  that you don’t feel that way – that you don’t feel that pain. I need to know that I’m doing it right.

I don’t feel so hopeless about my situation anymore. I just hope my new found optimism is warranted, and that we may meet each other soon.

Yours,

Stupid Cupid

I traverse the WLW section of OKCupid sometimes just to see how many compatible women live around my neck of the woods – which unfortunately is not a whole bloody lot. I usually end up changing the radius section just out of curiosity to the 500 kilometer option (which is the furthest it will go, I believe), and sometimes I spot one or two women who I think I’d like to get to know. Though, as is usually the case with my own specific brand of bad luck: these women tend to hail from places some ways away from my North Walian location 😦

For instance, tonight I spotted a woman living in a notable English seaside town who instantly caught my eye. She was a few years older than me, which I don’t mind at all, and well… she just seemed too good to be true, really (*^_^*)

I seem to be attracted to women whose looks lean towards the butch or androgynous end of the spectrum, and I’m more comfortable with the thought of an older woman rather than someone closer to my age (I don’t like the idea of dating women younger than me, for some reason). What really makes me sit up and take notice though, is when a woman is as dorky as I am (bonus points if her dorkiness surpasses mine!) – this woman ticked all my boxes. Trouble is, I’m just not in the right place for a relationship right now (not that I’m assuming she’d want to!!!).

I’ve mentioned before how insecure I am about my weight, my personality, my speech problems, etc. and I think I really need to tackle these things head on before attempting to initiate a relationship with anyone.

I feel like it wouldn’t be fair to inflict all my insecurities on a partner, and that if I did date before I was really ready it would only lead to greater heartache in the end. I know no one is perfect, and that everyone in the world has their own little foibles that they inevitably end up bringing into their relationships, but I feel that I need to make some positive changes to my own life (or in the case of things that cannot be changed; make peace with myself), in order to get to the place I need to be before I can seek the kind relationship I want to have.

Having said that, there are some issues that can only be resolved by… experience. Urgh! *grumbles* Right! I’m going to tell you something now that is REALLY EMBARRASSING (thinking about it now is making me cringe so hard I’m practically developing a six-pack!), ok? And you have to promise not to laugh! Promise me! Ok, ready?

When I was in my last year of university I met someone I got along with really well. She like-liked me, but in retrospect we’d have made better friends that girlfriends. We went on a date and hung around, but nothing major happened (stick with me here!). Anyway, one day she invited me to stay over at her place. Now, bear in mind we had only really held hands up until this point, and she knew I had never had sex or even kissed* another person before. She, on the other hand, was way more experienced than me, so needles to say: I was shitting bricks. That night she tried her hardest to reassure me, but no matter how much I tried I just couldn’t overcome the anxiety that I would be a bad kisser**. So I just let her touch my tits instead :I

That’s right; I’ve never kissed (unless blind drunk), but I have let someone fondle ma titties (I literally turned beet red as I typed this Istg).

What I’m trying to say here, is that I have a few anxieties that are only curable by being with someone patient and understanding. And I guess that has caused yet another little anxiety to pop up – is there actually anyone out there willing to be that patient with me? What if my intimacy issues are the barriers that prevent me from ever finding happiness with another woman?

I have no idea how much time I would need to come around. The thought of being intimate with someone is both arousing and frightening (which I’m sure is the case with everyone), and in the past the fear has overpowered the arousal and put a halt to intimacy – boob fondling notwithstanding (I do have nice tits though, so there’s no anxiety there at least).

I guess the only way to find out is to actually do it. NOT ‘do it‘ do it… well, yeah do it, but… you know what I mean. Anyway…

Signing off,

>:I >:I >:I

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*there was an incident that I don’t count because the girl (a separate girl) just sprung it on me out of nowhere, and it was more of a sloppy lick than a kiss. I didn’t lick her back, and tbh it left me kinda traumatized… 0.0

**I can pinpoint exactly where this anxiety started! Don’t. Fucking. Laugh!!! When I was about 8, a girl I knew had one of those fortunetelling fish things. You know the ones – those silly, floppy little fish shaped pieces of plastic that curl up to ‘reveal the truth’ when you place it in the palm of your hand. Well, when I placed it in my hand it ‘revealed’ something about me which turned into an anxiety – an anxiety which has stayed with me ever since: ‘Crap Kisser’.

Lesbians: the ultimate validation

This is exactly why I fear for the safety of any young lesbian caught up in the LGBT ‘community’;  This is a Tumblr post from a gender critical blog.

If you’re having trouble reading the first screenshot it says:

“why would a lesbian ever want to date a pre-operative transgender woman? Um, because strap-ons are expensive but condoms are cheap?”

The blog I linked to isn’t mine, but I wanted to include that second screenshot in the link. The other comments are well worth a read too, here’s what I wrote;

Wtf are we to these people? Sex objects? Tools of validation?

Like all males who want sex with women they don’t seem to understand the dangerous risks they’re demanding we take in order for them to be ~*~validated~*~ as ‘lesbians’. Let’s just put aside, for a  second, the fact that no lesbian actually wants to see a real dick, let alone fuck it; what they’re asking us to do is to accept a risk of pregnancy that wouldn’t be there with a female partner. Do they know how harmful and dangerous pregnancy can be? How uncomfortable and inconvenient even healthy pregnancies are to go through? How difficult/expensive abortions are to get in some countries/states? How much emotional turmoil a woman goes through when debating whether to get one, or go ahead with the pregnancy and keep the baby/adopt it out? And a myriad of other horrid and unavoidable risk that are there when sleeping with someone who could get you pregnant.

In an ideal world lesbians would never have to deal with such risks, but there are now males in dresses running around trying to coerce young lesbians into submitting to their sexual advances, or else risk being ostracized from the only ‘community’ that is supposed to accepts their sexuality as natural and valid.

They’re no different than non trans males tbh; as long as there are no barriers to them getting their dicks wet they don’t care about the consequences we could be facing.

When will this bullshit be rejected? When will women’s sexual integrity and safety finally be seen as something worth protecting? When will lesbians find an island where we can get away from all this coercive shit??????

 

Screenshot originally posted on Tumblr by transgender-harms-women

Impenetrable*

Warning! Embarrassing sex stuff ahead! :I

I believe I have vaginismus, as I can’t insert a tampon or even have a pap smear (it hurt so much the nurse stopped the exam before it could be completed), but I’m also a lesbian, which means that penetrative sex is optional for me.

However, my friend told me that I would never be able to fully enjoy sex if penetration wasn’t involved. She told me about vaginal dilators and suggested giving them a go. Now, I’ve looked at the… umm… things , and I have to say they look scary as heck to me (especially the last one! O.O).

I’m still a virgin, so don’t know much about what it’s like to have sex with another person. I’ve never had trouble having orgasms before, but I really don’t want to miss out on a fulfilling sex life, or more importantly; cause any future partner to miss out on a fulfilling sex life, due to my problem.

I guess my question is: is the vaginal dilation program worth doing even though penetrative sex is completely optional? Will my sex life be affected by this even though I will never sleep with someone with a penis?

Please help! I’m really torn with what to do.

This is a message I left on a sexual health website quite a few months back. At the time this subject was really playing on my mind for some reason, and I just couldn’t find any decent information relating to the importance of penetrative sex in lesbian relationships (well, info that didn’t revolve around the whole ‘some lesbians have dicks‘ malarkey anyway – in other words; no info relevant to me). So the only thing I could think of was to ask around and get  (experienced) people’s responses. Along with this message on the sexual health website I also asked two people on Tumblr; a midwife who answers people’s sex related questions, and a lesbian radfem.

The midwife never answered my question, and though I can’t say for sure, I think it probably had something to do with me equating lesbian sex with dickless sex, which as we all know is considered a sin to the trans cult – which she appears to be a supporter of.

The lesbian radfem gave a rather hopeful answer, which was followed by several other hopeful answers from her followers. The answer, iirc, was something along the lines of;

*touch yourself to get to know what you like

*Don’t worry about penetration, as a lot of other lesbians don’t like it either

*don’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable

This simple yet pretty solid advice left me feeling better about my situation, but as the months have gone on I’ve seen things that have made me reevaluate:

  1. I’ve seen a few different lesbians express how much they enjoy using sex toys to penetrate their partners
  2. I’ve heard/read about how many women (hets, bisexuals, and lesbians) enjoy penetrative sex.
  3. And have seen a lot of women say that penetrative sex is the most pleasurable type of sex for them.

Now, as I said in the above message, I really don’t want to miss out on having a fulfilling sex life**, and more importantly; I hate the thought of depriving a partner of a fulfilling sex life because of my problem. I really have nothing against the idea of using dilators to ‘fix’ the problem (except for the price of the fucking things!!!), I’m just trying to work out if it would be worth the hassle and potential pain, or not.

Therefore(!), I have some questions that I’m going to ask here, in the hope that maybe some nice lesbians will be kind enough to be brutally honest with me on this subject (I know there are a lot of lesbians on this site, even if only like 2 ever read anything I post on here XD);

1 – Is penetrating a partner (strap-ons etc.) a big deal for many lesbians, especially certain types of lesbians, e.g. the more dominant women (which I seem to be more attracted to)? Are there lesbians who would be put off getting with a woman if they couldn’t penetrate her during sex? If so, are they in the minority, or the majority?

2 – Is penetrative sex really that good?

3 – Can there be a fulfilling sex life without penetration?

I know this is a REALLY embarrassing subject, but I’d be really grateful for any answers I can get.

Untitledd

Signing off!

xXx

 

*like fucking Fort Knox! Double entendres ftw!!! XD

**Yeah, I know I’m kinda jumping the gun here, what with me not even having a partner to have a fulfilling sex-life with, but I’d rather ask these questions now instead of crossing that bridge when (if) I get to it, because… well, just because 😛

 

I am bleed!!!

So, this was sitting in my draft folder for a couple of days:

Another month, another miss

I’ve gone two months without a period now. I thought I was coming on the other night (due to cramps, boob pain, feeling teary over nout, libido x1000, and difficulty getting to sleep), but alas; no flow.

This is something I’ve been dealing with for a few years now, and have been diagnosed with PCOS as a result. I was even prescribed the pill to try and get a ‘normal’ rhythm, but the side effects were too much of a burden for me to bother refilling it the next month.

——

But today?! Today = many much flow!!!

Kind of a mixed blessing really, isn’t it? It sucks that I’m bleeding, but at the same time at least I’m bleeding now… ladies you know what I’m trying to say.

It’s not like I could be pregnant, so I’m never worried about that, but there’s just something fundamentally unsettling when you know your body is out of kilter. There’s also the fact that this problem could seriously hinder my chances of becoming pregnant in the future.

Ah well… periods just sap my motivation to do stuff so I think I’ll leave this here and go check out my fave blog for new posts/comments on old posts!

I’ll definitely revisit this topic again in the future though, because, as with every woman ever, reproductive health is a majorly important part of my life.

xXx

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A letter

Dear my future girlfriend (I hope you exist :I),

There are a few things about me that you should probably know. So, here goes;

I won’t know how to behave for a while, because the things I should have learned in my late teens went unlearned. This means I’m going to need to learn them with you instead, which… should be fun?

Things like the kind of compromise it takes to make a relationship work, and how to communicate my feelings for the sake of someone else’ happiness, instead of just bottling everything up to make myself look tougher than I really am. It also means that I may miss one of two signals you send my way, so please be patient as the cogs in my noggin do their thing. On the bright side I am a quick learner, so I’m sure the epiphanies will come sooner rather than later.

I’m awkward when it comes to expressing my emotions, and I hate the thought of someone seeing me cry. This will probably lead to misunderstandings and hurt feelings when I don’t say the things I should be saying, or when I don’t act in a way that conveys what I’m actually feeling inside. Rest assured though; if I don’t say the thing it’s probably because I’m afraid to, and not because I don’t feel the thing. But once I start saying it I won’t stop.

I don’t do things to deliberately hurt other people, but I am only (an extremely inexperienced) human, and sometimes I can be a bit dense, and daft, and awkward, and clumsy, and sometimes my foot likes to live in my mouth. I’ll definitely  probably fuck up sometimes, but I’m not a mean person, so if I ever do something that hurts you: PLEASE tell me – I promise I’ll make it up to you.

I’m not selfish, but I have gotten used to being on my own. I’ll need some time to adjust to being in someone else’ company in such an intimate way. Though once you break through my shell your next challenge will be working out how to get rid lol.

It’s probable that I may panic at least once as we get to know each other. It’ll probably happen when I realize I want to kiss you, or you want to kiss me. Or it will probably happen when the topic of sex crops up. Or it’ll probably happen when I realize I’ve fallen in love with you, or that you love me. Panic when I think I’ve said something to hurt you. Panic over how much we’re texting. Panic over holding your hand. Panic over… it will probably happen more than once. I’ll deal.

In the past I’v been told that I’m a bit of an ‘ice queen’, but this is only because I’m nervous around new people, or when the group is bigger than about 4. In reality I’m a soppy mess. I watch YouTube videos of soldiers coming home to their kids/dogs – and cry. Other things that make me cry: births, thinking about time, Disney films, captive whales, free whales, captive animals being rescued, pet animals being rescued, Welsh lullabies, whales… a lot of things really. You probably won’t ever see this though :/

It will look like I can’t take compliments. They make me feel embarrassed and shy, but I do appreciate them. Giving compliments is also awkward for the exact same reason. This is something I’ll be working on, but just because I don’t say it doesn’t mean I don’t think your hair looks nice, that your voice is lovely, that you look pretty/dapper/cool in today’s outfit, or that I think you’re the best in the world. K?

I’m romantic, but unfortunately; also deathly afraid of embarrassing myself. In other words I will constantly be dying to do something really doofy to show you I care, whilst simultaneously restraining myself out of a fear that you will laugh at me. I WILL do doofy things. But I might not stick around to see your reaction, at least for the first couple of doofages.

I get sad sometimes for no apparent reason. It’s no ones fault. I’ll try not to let it affect you.

I will do whatever I can to make you happy.

I also come with a free cat*

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This is the first letter. I’ll write more when I think of moar stoof!

Yours,

xXx

 

P.S. If you ever catch me staring off in to space rest assured that I’m not thinking about another woman – it’s probably zombies, or chocolate, or Christmas, or whether our current cats would get on with that one I spotted on preloved.com earlier. OR, ya know: you.

P.P.S. I will love you so much!

*Customer notice: any Girlfriend/s that come with a promotional Free Cat, must be returned with that Free Cat to receive a full refund.

 

A secret

I thought long and hard about sharing this with complete strangers over the internet, and I’ve decided that since I can’t tell my friends and family about this, that means the only place I can share this is with strangers over the internet.

So, here goes nothing; I’m 27 and have never had a girlfriend.

Well, there it is. The truth. Well, only part of it. I’ve also never had sex, kissed whilst sober (certainly not with anyone I knew for more than 2 minutes), and I’ve never experienced one of those famed ‘all consuming’ crushes either (you know the type – butterflies, nausea, sweaty palms, can’t stop thinking about them, heart racing, etc.). Whoever said that it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all was a smart dude, because let me tell you; it’s heartbreaking in its own way. And all without the benefit of having experienced love, or at the very least knowing the joys of sharing something like that with another person.

I guess it started with a lack of confidence. First, a lack of confidence in my looks, as I’ve been overweight since I was a child, and coming from a weight-obsessed family that’s a disaster waiting to happen. Then I guess came a loss of confidence in my personality, due to my father (my primary care giver as a kid) not understanding me, and constantly willing and wishing me to change my naturally introverted tendencies, leading to the belief that I was boring, unfunny, lacking anything important to say, etc.. This became a self fulfilling prophesy, and later led to a loss in ability to speak properly. These issues made it difficult for me to find new friends, and I’ve found myself unable to make deep, lasting connections with anyone since I went to secondary school, where I met the only women I consider to be my friends – all two of them.

In university I felt disconnected from the other lesbians I met, as the thought of getting close to any of them, and eventually opening up to someone on an intimate level, frightened me so much I ended up never getting close to anyone. I actually started each year saying to myself ‘this year I will do it! I will meet someone’, but with every passing year that got more and more difficult, as the embarrassment factor got bigger and bigger.

If lack of confidence was the first barrier, and embarrassment the second, then that would make shame the third. I was ashamed that I had gotten as old as I was and had missed so many ‘milestones’ that a girl my age was supposed to have reached by that point. I was still ashamed of my body and personality, and I was ashamed at my ever decreasing ability to speak without stuttering, say the correct word I was thinking, and my tendency to forget what I had just said (making me unable to finish sentences properly). I was ashamed to tell my friends, because I knew they would feel sorry for me – which I cannot abide!

Then came doubt. Doubt that I deserved that kind of happiness. Doubt in my ability to make someone else happy. Doubt in my ability to be someone a girlfriend could proudly introduce to their parents, and build a future with. Doubt that any woman would want to take someone like me on, what with all these problems. Doubt that I’m even capable of having a fulfilling relationship, due to all my hangups. And everybody knows: doubt leads to fear.

And so fear is an ever present ghoul in the back of my mind now too. Would the fact that I’m 27 and have no experience with sex and relationships what so ever put potential partners off?  Would I be laughed at? Will I ever find someone?  Who in the world has the amount of patience needed to deal with me?

Urgh! It’s like I’m drowning in a glass box – I can see ‘simple’ solutions to my problems; all I need to do is get my confidence and self esteem back, and get over my fear and doubt, right? But I’m stuck. How do I do these things?

Soul destroying loneliness is the result of all of the above, especially since I also feel isolated from my friends when it comes to this.

All my friends are in long term relationships, and have no idea about this. I’d rather lie than let them know the truth too, as they are not likely to be understanding. They are all het, for a start, which is a barrier, as much as I hate to admit it. Then there’s the fact that they have a ‘sex-positive’ attitude, which makes sex a very difficult topic to discuss with them under the best of circumstances, as they believe every woman is ‘a little bisexual’. This attitude has led to some instances which border on harassment, as they’ve tried to persuade me to go out with one of the men we regularly hang out with, as a group. I don’t know… I gave up in the end, and now I just switch-off and nod along every time they talk about sex. Talking to them is not an option for me.

Family is also not an option.

So here I am. Spilling my guts on the internet, hoping for… something??? Idk. It has made me feel better to get this down in writing (typing?), so there’s that I guess.

Thanks for tuning in! Next time: maybe something not as depressing, but probably just as personal 🙂

xXx

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To post, or not to post – that is the question

I’ve spent the day writing a potential post about a VERY personal subject, and I can’t decide if I should post it or not.

Though this blog in fairly anonymous I still can’t help feel ashamed and embarrassed at what this potential post is about. It’s a shame I know is stupid to bear, and that no one will believe it to be that bad of a thing, plus it’s likely nobody will read it anyway. Still the thought of sharing this thing is making me feel sort of sick.

I’ve never shared this secret before, even though the truth of it hurts my soul, and makes the problem harder to overcome the longer I leave it fester.

I think it would be beneficial for me to finally put it out there (even if no one sees it), which is why I haven’t deleted it (yet!).

I’m just trying to work up the courage… in the meantime – enjoy my ramble 😀

*screams into the void*

xXx

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What’s reoccurrin’?

Over the past couple of years I have been having the most bizarre reoccurring dream.  First, I’m in America, happily married to a beautiful woman (so it starts off pleasant enough!), and we have a load of young kids together (again, all very pleasant, at least as far as I’m concerned). We live in a nice house, not too small, not too big – just what I’ve always wanted. God knows what we both do for a living, but it seems we’re doing quite well, and our kids are happy and healthy (the number of happy kids we have seems to fluctuate between 4 and 15 between dreams for no discernible reason, but I’m down with that).

Anyway, one day, out of nowhere, the sperm donor turns up at our door with his wife in tow (apparently it was an anonymous thing so god knows how he found us… oh well!). He tells us that since his last donation he got into an accident which has left him sterile, and asks us for his sperm back. Weird enough, right? Buuutt we oblige, feeling sorry for the poor man, and knowing that if we did want any more kids we could use the frozen embryos we just happen to have lying around some lab somewhere. Yeah, I know…

Unfortunately for him his stuff doesn’t last long enough to get his wife pregnant. Not our problem, you would assume, right? Wrong. He then lawyers up and takes us to court over the embryos. In a panic I have them all implanted before he can get an injunction* to stop us from doing so. Pissed, the donor decides he’s not quite done ruining our lives. So now me and my wife find ourselves in a situation where we’re battling a sperm donor for custody of an unknown quantity of fetuses.  Don’t ask me who wins, I have never found out.

Usually the donor’s infertility is caused by some accident (I remember one where it was a car accident, and one where it was an injury sustained in battle), but a couple of months ago a completely new infertility causing situation arose in the dreams – as if it couldn’t get any fucking weirder – the donor transitioned to live as a woman. Where once the worry seemed to be a homophobic judge siding with the straight couple, now me and my dream wife worry about a liberal media frenzy.

Like I said, I never do get a resolution to the dream, but events usually go a little something like this:

  • Happy family situation – like that feeling where you just know, ya know?
  • Suddenly talking to the donor
  • Give sperm
  • Letter from a lawyer demanding the embryos
  • Am suddenly pregnant with all the embryos
  • Wife is now suddenly worried about a foetus custody trial
  • Worrying about homophobic judge/liberal media frenzy
  • Wake up/another dream suddenly starts

I’m not into dreamology or whatever the fuck it’s called, but can someone please explain to me what the fuck this is all about? Because I’m fresh out of ideas here. It can’t be as simple as me watching too much Ally McBeal and Law & Order, along with spending too much time online reading about trans related shyte, right?

Also, should I turn this into a script…? XD

xXx

*is that even how injunctions work?

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