It’s a metaphor #innuendo
Cake or finals?
I choose cake.
I fly to Maui in two weeks! Keep on pushing!!!
Listening to Rent for the first time in 5000 years
bby y did i let u go
All done up for my last night out at this school and for Finals Blowout
I defs changed my outfit eight times before deciding because I’m one indecisive female.
Watching Catching Fire interviews and there is one where Woody Harrelson’s lightbulb goes off that Chris Hemsworth and Liam are brothers and he didn’t know it before.
It’s pretty great.
September | October 2013
Freedom & Sexuality
There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, by the way. I’m bisexual.
And I figured I would get that information on the table first, as it explains all the rest. I want to apologize to any of my friends back at home who are just now hearing of this. I tried to get to all of you over the Thanksgiving break, to tip you off myself, in person. Break was busy though, and I was only home for a handful of days before we shot off to North Carolina for Gaga’s.
I’ll start from the beginning, and I’ll warn you now that there will be no filter for any of this. So if you aren’t used to me talking about masturbation and porn and sex, consider this a heads up. All I ask is that you keep an open mind.
I’ve always been this way. I’ve always been attracted to both woman and men. At least, I’ve been curious for as long as I remember. A long while ago—God, it must have been eighth grade—I was watching some normal, everyday porn. Don’t ask me to remember what website, because I don’t. And while I was, I had accidentally clicked on an advert for gay porn. Long story short. I got off to both, and thoroughly enjoyed myself. But I wasn’t happy about it, I really wasn’t.
I resented myself for it. I felt guilty, and I regretted doing it. But a good portion of the times I watched any kind of porn, I would search for gay porn too, because it’s hot as hell—frankly, hotter than straight porn, but that’s a different story. Point is: every time I would watch and get off to the stuff, I felt undeniably ashamed. For no reason either. I would say that it was probably because I was afraid. Afraid of being gay. Afraid of my parents, and afraid of my siblings, and afraid of people at school. I didn’t want to be weird. I never wanted to be an outcast—what self-respecting rising freshmen in high school wants to be an outcast?
So I forced myself to stop. I would bargain with myself: “Okay. If you don’t watch gay porn for 5 sittings of normal porn, then you can watch gay porn and get off to it.” “If you do all of your homework tonight, and get your paper done, then you can watch gay porn.” Just, stupid shit like that.
Well, it got the job done. I stopped watching gay porn. But it honestly didn’t have such a positive effect on me, and only now, looking back on my life then, I realize what was happening.
This is when I developed an utterly unhealthy problem with Envy. In my personal experiences, the deadliest of the seven sins. I became so obsessed and damaged by how other men looked, acted, did, and said. Especially the looks. Especially the bodies. I hated myself. I hated my body. I would see people like Taylor Lautner, or Zac Efron, or the Jonas Brothers, or any male celebrity whose body and face was so unbelievably hot, the flames of hell were put to shame. It was in the biceps, or the pecs, or the abs. I hated them. I hated them for having such perfectly defined features, such beautiful jawlines, and phenomenally cut bodies.
You see, I was subconciously attracted to them, but didn’t want to be. And that’s why I got envious.
It was awful. I spent my first two years in High School caring about nothing more than the way I looked. It was so unhealthy. I worked out viciously, and I cried when I did. I bench pressed and I crunched and I lifted and I squatted, and I cried because I knew I still wasn’t as good as they were—and I used that pointless, childish suffering and anger to motivate myself. Repeat. Every afternoon after school. On the Bowflex or doing p90. Protein shakes. Water. Running laps in my backyard. That’s how I lived. That’s what I cared about.
And all throughout, I wanted a girlfriend. So badly, more than anything, I wanted a girlfriend. I wanted a kiss. I wanted to hold hands with somebody, to feel that electric/chemical response that triggers when you grab someone’s hand and lace your fingers in theirs. And I will admit I was oblivious. Today, through the grapevine I hear about all these girls in High School who would have killed to be my girlfriend, but I was so obsessed with myself, I hardly noticed.
And all throughout, people thought I was gay. I can’t count on two hands how many times someone asked if I was gay during school, and I went home and cried about it. Of course, I didn’t have anything wrong with gay people, but I didn’t want to be. And I felt like that’s what everyone was talking about.
And all throughout, I couldn’t make friends with guys. Honestly, I had less than 5 really good guy friends. Because I felt uncomfortable around guys. If it wasn’t because I didn’t feel as if they were making fun of me behind my back, it was because I was jealous of their bodies and didn’t want anything to do with them.
And I started finally seeing results. I finally started looking in the mirror, and being proud of what i saw—I knew I had an ectomorphic body, and once I accepted that fact, the results came quicker. I saw toned biceps, and washboard abs and calves that looked delicious when I ran. The pecs were lacking, but I didn’t care. I was lean. And I finally started to be happy about the way I looked.
Everything got better from there. Junior and Senior year, not only did I find myself in the Ocean and in Science, but I finally found a girl. I didn’t work out because of envy any long, but I worked out to stay fit, and to keep what I had worked so hard for.
I still felt envious though, and still hated men because I was attracted to them. But I was at least confident, and that gave me a weapon, at least, to combat my demon.
With Emma though, I eventually stopped destroying myself, and thought less and less of what other men looked like, because all my time was consumed by chasing this girl in LA.
It was when Emma and I started being sexual with each other that I started watching gay porn again. And let me clarify: this was before we had sex for the first time. So, I mean sexting and skexing and all that noise. Also, it wasn’t often that I watched gay porn, but it happened. And looking back on this, I realize that I never really regretted it either, or felt ashamed. It was just sort of a subconscious thing that I did. Emma had no idea though. No, she didn’t have any idea at all, and it never really crossed my mind to tell her…
…a year and months passed, and Freshmen year of college came to be. If I remember correctly, I told Emma right before Winter Break. We were having a debate about labels. I had told her that I thought labeling sexuality was superfluous, and a stupid thing to do—citing that everyone is a little bit gay, because it’s human nature. She refuted and started talking about society and identity, and had rhetorically and hypothetically posed the idea of she and I having a threesome with another guy. I told her that I wouldn’t mind it at all, which caught her off guard. So she asked me directly if I would do things with a guy, and i told her that yes, yes I would. And she was perfectly okay with that. The idea actually turned her on. I told her that I had always been bicurious, which shocked her yes, but she was not bothered. She told me that of course she would support me in my sexuality, and that her love was not dulled or diminished by this confession. Neither was mine.
And the butt-sex jokes came rolling in. God, my girlfriend was mature.
And I can’t tell you how happy it all made me though, that this was a thing and that I was bicurious and proud. And women are hot. And men are hot. And sex is nice.
Throughout the remaining semester, and the months that followed into the summer and up to Sophomore year, Emma and I had a lot of discussions about sexuality and labels and what sex is to us. I made a case for the argument I came out to her with, and I still think it’s true to this day: Labels are, frankly, bullshit. Yes, I know I label myself bisexual, but let me get there. Labels are stupid, at least in my opinion. Because sexuality is not linear. Of course it isn’t. Because it’s human. Sexuality—all sexuality—is undeniably, naturally, human. We want sex! That’s what we are wired for, after all. That’s our purpose as a species. To live, to survive, and to have sex. (Basically.) So, any kinks or quirks or desires, are natural. I don’t know what other evidence I have to present to make that point any clearer. Now, to what I was saying before. Labels are bullshit, but they are needed because Society deems them necessary. It’s only because there are those out there that deny the existence of spherical sexuality, that we have labels. And so, I, like everyone else, should label myself because it’s the normal thing to do.
Point is, Emma and I philosophized and constructed our sexual ideology. And it basically goes like this: Sex is human. Sex is natural. And because sex is human, and because we are wired for the very need of it, sex should not be as taboo as it is. Sex should be experienced to its fullest. You should experiment. Sex should be an expression of who you are, and nobody can take that away from you.
Coming to this conclusion, led us both to the tentative idea of an open relationship.
And again, I ask for an open mind. Knowing Emma and I, and knowing how strong a relationship we are, bare with me and keep in mind everything I’ve already said.
First Semester, Sophomore year. A couple of weeks in. We make the decision to enter into an open relationship—for three reasons.
- So that I can experiment with my sexuality. So that I can know for sure that this is who I am, and that this is what I want to be.
- Skype sex can only do so much. I mean, come on. After having sex with each other, in person, for more than a handful of times, it just didn’t cut it like it used to. Even if she has a dildo, and I have a Fleshlight. Nothing beats the real thing.
- To experiment with our sex life. To get a better understanding of sex. To “broaden our horizons,” if you will. To see what kinds of sex are out there, that she and I hadn’t thought of before in our own bedroom.
Well. Long story short, I met a guy, Brian (via Grindr, which I know is sketchy sometimes but, hey). He was in an open relationship too, and understood where I was coming from. We became friends and got to know each other for a couple weeks before we hung out. And when he and I had sex for the first time, he understood that I hadn’t been with a guy before. He went slow and took his time, and made sure I was comfortable throughout. And to spare you the details: basically I learned that I can take an 8” dick like a champ, and that I’m most definitely Bisexual.
It ended up playing out that he became a friend with benefits, in a way. Even in an open relationship, I’m not looking for hookups. I don’t want to randomly meet some stranger and have sex with them, blindly. I want to get to know the person first. Makes sex more enjoyable, anyway.
Being open has done so much for us. Emma is confident. I repeat, Emma is confident. She finds it empowering, “using” men for sex and nothing more. It makes her feel good about herself, which is fantastic. More importantly, it has brought us closer together as a couple, it really has. I’ve realized that I couldn’t be with a guy emotionally. I couldn’t love a guy. My love for Emma has grown stronger, and more vibrant than it ever has.
Weeks passed and there was a weekend when Aaron (Brian’s boyfriend) and Emma both came to CCU to visit the each of us. We all went out to a nice restaurant that I had made reservations for, and then we went and saw a theatre production. We also went out to the shore at night after the play, before heading to WalMart for mixers, and then back to my place. And I’ll admit, we all had a foursome.
Judge, please. I want you to, so long as you let me defend. It was phenomenal. I’m not even speaking sexually. Just experiencing that raw, carnal energy was so freeing. So fantastically human. Nothing but skin and pure human desire. I guess that may sound disgusting or trashy, but it wasn’t. It was like Mayday Parade’s music video for Kids In Love.
Because that’s just it. All of this has been freeing beyond words. Defining my sexuality. Experimenting with sex. It has been eye-opening. Adventurous. And just what I needed.
Alongside all of this, I have been making great strides in putting things into motion for my future. As a research volunteer with Dr. Barthet, I am impressing more than enough people with my skill, and my work ethic. Just the other day, Dr. Lin (the “owner” of the lab), told me she was promoting me to Lab Manager. Here’s the thing about that: Sophomores never get picked up by professors doing research. Research assistant’s tend to be second semester Juniors. I’m sorry to gloat, but that’s how good I am. On top of that, I’ll be a paid lab aid for the Marine Science Department next semester. Networking. That’s what I have been doing.
And I can’t tell you how happy it is to be in the lab. The place is my second home. I’ve been defining more specifically what I want to do with my education, and it feels incredible.
Basically: I am at the highest point in my life today, yesterday, and have been for the entire semester. Because of my new found sexuality, and because of the future career that lies in front of me. And honestly? I don’t see myself going down hill for a very long time.
I am undeniably happy. And I am utterly whole.
Recorded myself singing songs.
May make a video of the funnny parts when im sober
Now to play world of warcraft because life
- Him: Hey babe what are you doing?
- Me: Fighting the patriarchy
- Him: That's my girl! I mean...woman