Monday, May 30, 2011

New Blog

Hey, so I never really recommend blogs to read. Most of them (from my experience) are either uninteresting or updated so rarely that they aren't worth following (....unlike this one, right?....).

I've known MW since I was about ten or eleven. She's an extremely compassionate person and super sweet. Our time in high school was pretty tumultuous (mostly my fault), but our adult relationship is fantastic. I got drunk my first time with her, skinny dipped for the first time with her, and she introduced me to apricot scrub. Those three things alone make us connected for life.

She started a blog out of the need for emotional healing. "Words of a Drug Addict's Daughter" is the name (and link). It's very personal and honest, so go read without judgment and no preconceived notions. I think she's immensely brave to write about her uncensored emotions with such a personal experience. I've been urging her to go into therapy after observing the positive changes I'm experiencing through my own sessions, and she's making movements to get there.

Comment, too! People don't realize that there is so much comfort in sincere words. Though I don't give a fuck what you say on my blog, be gentle with your words when you respond to hers. Think about how you would want someone to talk to you if you had experienced what she has.

All is this is from me, not her. All I asked for was her permission to post an entry about her writing.

Sunday, May 29, 2011

Female Wisdom and Thinking with My Heart

The month of May has been a fucking whirlwind. I have never had so many positive things happen to me in such a short amount of time. I'm feeling all empowered and shit, so just stay with me here. All of this excited ranting has a point.

I have the BIGGEST intellectual crush on Dr. Christiane Northrup. She gives my brain such a hard-on. I don't think any other person has stimulated me (on the topic of women's health) like she has. Go buy "Women's Bodies, Women's Wisdom" by her. I started reading it at the beginning of this month and I am jaw-dropped at some of the things she has written. We've all read books by doctors. We've all read books about a women telling her personal experience on certain topics. I, however, have never read a book by a woman who is a doctor (an OB/GYN) and she includes personal information about herself. I always prefer books written in first person, and this one is. It is PACKED (the book is over 700 pages, not even including the other 200 of notes/the index) with so much vital information. It's valuable to women of ALL ages, because it goes deeper than "This is why cramps happen. You should take this." There are so many things that contribute to physical ailments that we don't even realize. It's about accepting that you're an emotional being and that it's a GREAT thing. She talks about "egg wisdom" and all of this amazing stuff that you (likely) didn't know existed right inside of you. God, you should see me when I talk about her to other people. I get all bouncy and excited (like I do when I talk about Betty Dodson). I love sharing knowledge with women. Speaking of, she has a Facebook page. "Like" her. She sometimes interacts with us in the comments and updates daily.

With all that said, by nature, I'm a pretty... heartless person (find out your personality type here. I'm an INTJ. Describes me PERFECTLY). When I do something wrong, I don't blame other people. I can think of a million reasons why I could have done it differently or better. I'm a big self-blamer. I'm the same way when it comes to the plight of women as a whole. I've always wondered why I'm so unsympathetic when it comes to my own sex, and I think I finally know why.

I expect more of us. I think so very highly of women. Truly, I do. I expect us to be able to make wise choices and balance all aspects of our lives with poise and complete self-assurance.

Well, fuck. *I* can't even do that shit, not all the time. I need emotional support. I make dumbass choices. I finally realized that I'm doing a massive disservice to myself and other women by writing them off as "stupid" for their choices, without caring to listen to the details or go deeper, because I'm the same way with myself. How bitchy. But, that's how I have always been. It's how my mom is. She takes EVERYTHING at face value and doesn't care to ever listen to the details of anything. Knowing we have that in common is enough of a reason for me to make a change.

I don't think of us as the superior sex (and DEFINITELY NOT the inferior sex, for that matter), but seriously? We're powerful. By "powerful," I'm not just talking about female doctors or lawyers; not just people who are out there changing the world before our eyes. I mean in general. We're powerful human beings. We have the ability to nurture EVERYONE and EVERYTHING, not just our own children. There's a reason we call it "Mother Earth" and "Mother Nature". We're fertility, wisdom, and nourishment: personified. That fucking blows my mind.

So, I said all that to say this: I'm actually learning to think with my heart. If you knew me in person, that would have just about knocked you over, because I'm a good listener, but rarely compassionate. I woke up yesterday, and the first thing that popped into my head, out of NOWHERE, was "I'm going to let my mind be my map, but let my heart be my tour guide." You know, sometimes you can be going on a trail and have a general idea of where you're going, but the tour guide always points out all of this amazing stuff you would have missed had you have been location-oriented. I can't NOT think logically. It's just something I do. But, I can have a healthy scoop of willful understanding and compassion during that process. Since making this choice a few weeks ago, I've been crying more. It seems like my hand is permanently stuck to my heart, because I always put my hand to my chest when I feel something deeply.

I felt empathy for the first time in my life last week. Me. Empathy. I didn't even know that shit was possible. I hurt *with* another person. Another woman in my life (MW, in fact), going through a rough time like I am, shared how she felt with me. I listened without judgment and I actually felt a new emotion, because I was open enough to allow it to happen.

The changes in my life seem to happen in stages. First, it was sexual. I didn't even realize it was something that was destined to change, but it was. Now, it's emotional. I always knew there had to be a reason why I'm so heartless and brutal, but I couldn't pinpoint it, and I need a damn good reason to change before I initiate it.

I have that reason. To be a better (and happier) person, I have to think with my heart. Something that's so natural, but I've been fighting it my entire life. It's like I'm losing my emotional virginity.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Oh, Yeah. It's My Birthday

I finally hit the big 2-1. Who would have thought that I would be COMPLETELY burned out on drinking by 21? Damn my friends who actually thought about underage drinking, because I never did, lol. I was set to wait until 21. I made it to 19 before I got drunk.

No alcohol can be sold here on Sundays, and I don't want to deal with my dad's disapproving looks if I WERE to drink, so I shall have a sober 21. That's okay, because the only thing that worse than drinking alone is drinking with your parents.

So, yes. I plan to spend today like any other day, but it definitely feels like my birthday.

Happy birthday to me. :)

Friday, May 13, 2011

If I Have a Daughter...

So, Dr. Christiane Northrup (Google her; I would love to model my career after hers and I intend to do that in my own way) posted this poem on her Facebook page. I thought it was beautiful and the woman who wrote it had so much passion and love for her unborn (yet to even be conceived) child.

So, it got me thinking about what things I want so intensely for my future daughter. I wrote about it in my "therapy journal". It started out as a letter, but I didn't like that format. It felt more natural to take the sentence "If I have a daughter..." and fill in from there. I cried, but it was deeply cleansing. I love my future daughter. I don't know if she's going to be a biological creation from me or from someone else, but I have so much love to give to her, I can't even start to articulate it. But I tried, lol.

"If I have a daughter, I'll be sure that hearty laughter is a daily ritual in our home.

I'll hug her for no reason. When she's in my arms and startled by my surprise embrace, she'll ask why. I'll close my eyes, with my face nestled in her beautiful hair and whisper "Because I love you."

I'll do my best to save her from heartache, but when I fail (because moms aren't perfect), I'll let her know that it's okay to cry. Never questioning the validity of her tears. I'll hold her and say nothing, because we both know that when she's in my arms, no words can equal that amazing amount of emotional safety and comfort.

I'll let her know that her beauty and worth can't and won't be seen or understood by everyone. Of course, she'll look at me and smile, because she already knows that her worth exceeds the most precious thing in the universe, and her inner AND outer beauty is both blinding and breath-taking.

I'll never teach her to be loving, compassionate, or caring, because I know that it's only through heart-felt experience that these things can be deeply understood and shared.

I'll be her solid rock of comfort, honest wisdom, and never-ending love. Our connection will be so real. So organic. We'll be able to feel it in our bones. Our hearts.

When we're not together, she won't feel incomplete. On the contrary, she'll feel ready to face challenges on her own with jaw-dropping confidence and poise. Still, at the end of the day, she may call just to hear my voice, because she knows my words are laced with every ounce of TLC that I can muster.

I won't protect her from everything, but I'll help to mend ANYTHING. When she feels alone and her heart is in shambles, she'll say that one word. The word that holds so much meaning. The word that lets her remember that she holds a spiritual, emotional, physical, and cosmic connection to another being that will last forever.

"Mom?" she'll say. And I'll always be the one to answer. Her foundation of tangible comfort and safety. I'll hold that name in such high esteem. I'll dissect it and memorize the way she says it and carry it with me.

I want her to know that mothering was never a job (though I won't knock the difficulty that we likely both have experienced), but a privilege that I feel so deeply blessed to have been given.

When I'm gone, she'll looks for "signs" of me in the night sky, or our favorite places, or just in her dreams. I want her to be able to whisper "Mom" and feel that overwhelming sense of love and comfort, even though I'm not physically there to answer."

It's always easy to say "I want my child(ren) to have it differently than I did." But I really do. I never want her to doubt the love I have for her, like I have with my mom. I want to cultivate an amazing individual who can think for herself, love herself, and share that with other people.

Fuck. I'm emotional.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Happy Mother's Day

I currently hate that Mother's Day exists.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Masturbation Infatuation

May is "Masturbation Month". I've said before that it's fortuitous (SAT word) that I was born in the middle of said month. I beat off all the time. It's now common knowledge.

In one of my therapy sessions, I mentioned the fact that I blog. My therapist was intrigued and, naturally, asked what I blog about. Well, fuck. What could I say? I wasn't going to lie and say "Oh, just everyday things." I also couldn't be brutally honest with "Oh, I talk about how I masturbate all the time and how I love mature women..." So, I pussed out and said "Have you ever heard of Betty Dodson?" and I went off on a tangent about D&R and how it covers topics for sex to masturbation to social issues, etc. I ended with saying "So, yes. I blog about all the sex I'm not having." She laughed. We left the topic. Crisis averted.

In retrospect, I hate the way I worded that. Even if I didn't want to disclose all the personal details to her (fuck, I had only seen her three times), I could have expressed myself better. I made it sound negative. "All the sex I'm not having." Why not "I blog about self-sexuality" or "I blog about my solo-sex life"? I guess I was trying to keep the questions to a minimum.

I hold myself in very high esteem when it comes to being self-sexual. I know myself. I know how to get down and dirty and crank out a raw and sexy orgasm. I can turn on my favorite porn and hold myself to a time limit before I finally let myself come. I can lay in soothing darkness and take things really slow and build to a great release. Masturbation can be just as varied, fun, and intimate as partner sex.

People should talk about masturbation more. Bottom line. I don't think I missed a massive conversational opportunity with my middle-aged therapist, but I definitely could have responded better. Everybody is doing it! Let's fucking *talk* about it.

I hadn't planned on making a goal for masturbation month, but I think I have one now. No, I'm not going to up the orgasm count; I think I have that covered. I'm going to be more... Outward? with my solo sexuality. I'm not going to water things down or avoid the topic. It's a part of me, so why not willingly share that with other people face-to-face like I do in my writing? Maybe I can't be so blunt and talk about my fantasies in excruciating detail, but I can certainly be honest. With everyone.