Thursday, March 30, 2017

A Strange First

Last weekend, I attended my first public yoga class.  Even when I taught dance at a yoga studio, I didn't make it to a class.

My wifey friend knows the owner of a brewery, and they have a fancy yoga class every other week, then reward everyone with a flight of adorably tiny beers.  We decided to go as a way to kick off a new set of dance classes after going to a hafla together recently.

I've got to say, there was a lot of weird things about it, and not all of them were bad.

When we got there, we went up the stairs, and I saw a bunch of people around the room, and noticed there was a good mix of different body types, and a handful of guys in the class.  Of course there were a good chunk of super super skinny girls all in designer yoga pants that probably cost more than all the clothing in my closet, and overpriced mats.  I giggled to myself when the teacher asked who had done yoga before, and they all said it was their first time, as I am there in my loose thai fisherman pants that were as cheap as possible, and my old mat from a big box store.

At the beginning of class we were encouraged to make whatever modifications we felt we needed to feel right while moving, and I took advantage of that.  I went into the full expressions of every pose, holding them with strong posture, or even doing things that I know make them a little harder, because I needed that to feel a challenge, and not just go through the motions.  I noticed that even as one of the heavier people in the room, I had some of the best form and flexibility.  I also made my friend lose balance at one point because I decided to move into a headstand and an arm balance in the middle of a pose and she started giggling.

It was a bit affirming in a way.  That I'm making progress with what I do, even if I don't see it normally.  Also that proof of how surprisingly strong and flexible I am compared to the average person.  While I don't think it's something I need to do all the time, I think going to classes and having those reminders once in a while needs to happen in the future.  Just as that little proof that you don't need to be a size 0 and have name brand gear to be proficient in something.

Sunday, March 26, 2017

Wrong Way

I put a lot of focus into trying to instill a good sense of right and wrong when it comes to the wee beastie.  Not just for how she should act, but in the actions of others around her, and what is acceptable, and what she should never allow or back down from.

Unfortunately, my parents are a constant example of everything she should never do or allow.

With very few exceptions, I make sure to respect whenever Squishy says she doesn't want hugs, or when I've snuggled her up too much and she wants a bit of space.  In return, she knows to respect that from me, and while we might pout a little if one says no, it's never meant maliciously.

However, lately she hasn't wanted to hug my parents at all.  They openly treat me with very little respect, and try to force Squishy to show affection when she doesn't want to.  Usually she tries to run away in order to avoid it, and often winds up wanting to hug me.  Every time I ask her, she just says she doesn't want to hug them, and I don't blame her.

If their trying to force her wasn't bad enough, my mother has openly been throwing screaming fits about it, saying that Squishy is acting horribly and taking advantage of her. 

Um, excuse me?

My daughter wants to show affection to those who respect her as a person, and you have a problem with that?

Of course you do, because you see no problem with treating people like shit and acting like it's perfectly fine.

So, I sat Squishy down, and talked to her about gaslighting.  About examples that she's seen, and why it's bad, and that if people ever do it to her, or to others around her, to stand up and fight against it.

I shouldn't have to explain this to an eight year old.  She shouldn't need to be aware of this yet.  And while yes, by the time she's grown, she'll already be strong willed, and be used to fighting against shit like this, she should have that time to be a kid.

And she already does fight back, and she comes to me and asks why some people don't respect when she tells people to back off, and it's hard to keep from just flat out saying that so many people in her life are emotionally abusive, and to never let people like them become a part of her life in the future.

Taking care of an infant was no problem.  Now that she's a person, and I need to prepare her for people in the world, that's the hard part.

Thursday, March 23, 2017

Pretty

So, the other day Lux was feeling some kind of way, and after some encouragement, he sent me some nudes.  Which, I mean, getting to check out cute boys I like while they're far away is something I'm not going to complain about ever.

However, I saw very clearly that he was uncomfortable with it, which is not something normal for him.  We talked about it, and how he doesn't want to feel so self conscious anymore.  That I would help him figure out things to do about it, and affirmed that I will nom on him as much as necessary until he feels pretty again.  And then after, because I already think he's pretty.

Afterward, when he'd gone to work, and was busy in meetings, I thought about it more.  That his goal is to feel sexy again, and not feel so self conscious in front of a camera again.  And about how he wouldn't have much problem if I was on the other side of the room instead of a lens.  That usually I am reaffirming, and making contented grabby hands at him before climbing up and then clinging on like a koala while with him.

And, I realized I don't really know how to help him.  I don't know what feeling sexy is like at all in this point in my life, and so it would be hard for me to know what might instill that in someone else.  At the same time, because of that, and my dysmorphia on top of it, I have issues with being in front of people as well as in front of a camera.

With someone there, I feel too much like I'm faking everything.  The few times I had a partner force me to strip for them or whatever, I legitimately almost walked out because I hated it so much.  The entire time I wanted to curl up in a ball because I felt like I was being told not to be me.  And at the same time, because my dysmorphia kicks in, and the fact that the vast majority of any positive words regarding my appearance were just an attempt to get into my pants, I feel like they're seeing what I judge in myself, and that they feel the same way.  It is absolutely panic inducing, and something I've never been able to shake in the slightest.

At the same time without people there, it doesn't matter if I'm dressed or not.  Lately, my dysmorphia is at a point where even the aspect of being in front of a camera gives me anxiety, and having to look at the finished product is something I want to avoid like the plague.

I guess we both have work to do.

Sunday, March 19, 2017

Balls First

To start off, a short story:

Kitty left the larp we attended before I did.  He was done there, and no longer having fun, and so he needed to leave.  As we were both doing logistics at the time, I took over, and continued to attend.  However, given the amount of time we spent together at events, no one really bothered trying to do anything with me because he was always there.

Well, literally the event after he left I'm walking up to where some people are hanging out to join in on conversation, and a guy who is a known douchebag walks up to me.  He cuts me off in my tracks, grabs me by the shoulders, and tells me he's high, and that he wants to drag me into the woods to fuck me.

Needless to say I'm a little put off by this and say something to the president of the larp.  He comes back to me later, telling me that he said he was just joking.

Um, excuse me, the fuck?  He's not my friend, and if he was, he'd know that any sort of joke like that would be met with a fist to the sternum.  

The next event, a friend and I are staying in a kitchen inside the building that gets used in winter as sleeping space.  I'm up against the wall, and he's across the center of the room.  We're each in our own little set ups, with several feet between each other.  Shortly after we go to bed, we hear the door open, and the same douchebag walks in, and I tell him the room is being used, and to go find somewhere else to sleep.  He asks if it's me, and I say yes, and tell him to go, because I'm tired, and want to go to bed.  

To which I hear him walking up, and unzipping his pants.  As he gets midway across the room, he nearly steps on my friend, who hasn't made a sound.  Douchebag asks who is there, and my friend just says "Hi" grabs his ankle, and twists it until he falls on his ass.  I tell him to go find somewhere else to sleep, and that if he ever comes near me again, he won't be able to.

And now we fast forward to present day.

I read an article the other day that talked about cismenfolk and sexuality.  That they're taught to be predators, that women are to simply fear it, and that it's simply excused away as how things work.  And, given the story above, I have some real world experience that this can be very true.  

It also talked about how men tend to be the one to pursue women, and they are rarely the ones feeling desired.  Which, in a lot of ways I also agree with.  It made me think of conversations I've had in the past, where friends who legitimately meant well would talk about how they were working on getting closer to a girl in order to have a chance at sex with them, and how I'd be telling them that if they have to work on earning sex, they aren't the person you should be having sex with.

It reminded me of a friend and a conversation I had with Lux lately.  About how our friend is throwing himself at people just for the chance of getting laid.  He's seeing women as a source of sex, rather than just people, and so he's attracting the type of women who will string him along while he hopes his dick might get wet at the end of the day.  

Here's the thing though, when you see people as a source of sex, either someone gets hurt, you wind up with sex you don't want, or sex that won't last.  It also is generally very visible, and if people see that desperation, they usually won't bite.  Which, again, starts to go back to the article.  At that point, the men crave feeling desired, but women are taught to repress their sexuality, and makes things way more difficult overall.

Now, I have no problem showing menfolk that I'm attracted to them (so long as they aren't awkward).  I however know that I am very much in the minority when it comes to actively showing men attention.  In return though, I notice that when men see that, they're either offput, or they treat me more like a person than before, which kind of creates more of a problem with it.

There's a lot of issues with how we're bred into sexuality, and it's going to take a while to break all of those habits.

Thursday, March 16, 2017

Aspirations

So, as a more lighthearted topic, something I often giggle at.

As much as I don't want to get old, stop doing things, or become ignorant to the world, I absolutely can't wait to become a crotchety old person.

Lux already says I'm a crotchety old man.

Sometimes, we sit together either on his balcony, or my back porch, or while camping.  We set ourselves up with a cigar, or our pipes, smoke something tasty, and sip rum.  We look exactly like an 80 year old couple yelling at the hoodlums running around outside.  It's probably adorable.

There are times even when it's just me, with a cigar and a drink, reading a book and hollering at anyone making too much noise.

The other day, a remake was made of my favorite NES game.  I went on an old person rant with a friend, about how back in my day, we weren't able to save our game, and limited lives, so we had to get good enough to beat the game in a day.  And we couldn't just leave the console on, because the cartridge would fuck up, and we'd have to remove it and blow in it to make it work again.

Friends and I will sit for an evening with a cup of tea, and yarn, and talk about how many people dismiss too much of everyday life.

Rather than buy junk food, I'd rather spend all the time and work to bake something myself, because store bought baked good just taste like sugar.

Fuck waiting, I'm impatient.  I'm a crotchety old man now, and I'm happy about it.

Sunday, March 12, 2017

Signs from the past

It's been a long time since I've broken up with Thrax, and gone without an abusive partner in my life.  A long time since I've had that negative influence, and everything that comes with it.

In that time, I've learned a lot.  I've gotten stronger in a lot of ways, and discovered a lot about how I actually am when I'm encouraged to be me, and not having a partner trying to force me to be someone else, or that I'm undeserving of more.

Sometimes though, after dealing with it for that long, little things peek through.

I don't think past abuse ever really goes away at this point, because I deal with it all the time.

Always feeling the need to apologize, as though it's all my fault.  Being afraid to ask for anything, or help at any time.  Feeling panic when I do speak up about my own basic needs, because I've gone too far, and don't want to be attacked.

Even when I know the same things won't happen because I have healthier people in my life, I still deal with the same feelings years later.

The random triggers that come about in which I have to stop everything and talk myself down from, because they're related to such shitty events from my past don't go away.  I just keep finding new ones.

I notice the habits in others too.  Signs of too much gaslighting, and emotional abuse, and the effect it has now.

It's sad to think about, and worse to see, especially over time when the other people are far from our lives and minds.  Sometimes things take far too long to heal over completely.

Thursday, March 09, 2017

Becoming

So, I found out some spoilers of the new Logan movie that came out recently.  Apparently, one of the main themes is the concept and lesson of "Don't become what they've made you into".  And, I think it's a hell of a theme for a story like that, and one that really gets into some of the nitty gritty of the old marvel comic universe, especially for a character like Logan.

But, when I heard that the theme was something like that, I thought about it, and how much I fought to be different from what others have tried to force me to be.

I was taught to cower.  To just take whatever others do to me, because they're entitled to treat me like shit.  I was taught to have to do without because I must be like others, and plan to fuck things up in exactly the same ways.  I was taught that wanting to be treated with respect made me uncontrollable.  That I should never ask for help, but expect to have to do absolutely everything for others.

I was taught to take advantage of people because of my size, and gender.  That I should play up the small and demure card to get people to do things for me.

I was taught to tell people what they wanted to hear, rather than the truth.  I was taught that I should accept lies and deceit and move on like nothing happened.  I was taught to forgive consent violations.

I was taught to be a princess and a doormat.

I was taught to be something that couldn't be farther from who I am.

And to be honest, because those people who taught me that were truly toxic, they all hate who I've become, and try to villainize everything that isn't they're ideal picture of a doormat that they want me to be.

To the point where when I started to actively fight back, I was sent to a therapist because there must have been something wrong with me.  And I told her what was happening.  It was met with the response that I was fine, and sane, and nothing was wrong with me.  That they were abusive, and toxic, and delusional, but I was so close to eighteen that they couldn't do anything.

And since then, anything that has been a form of self expression or independence has been actively used to put me down.  To shove me lower until I would hopefully give up and become what they wanted me to be.

But that's not me, and it can never be.

Sunday, March 05, 2017

A Reset

The other day, I started having a serious conversation with Kitty, and told him that I didn't think I could really get much positive from it until I got my baseline at a better state.  That we're all in a shitty place, and we all need to make these steps to get better, and then start making bigger improvements.

Later in the week, I was talking to Lux, and mentioned that I think a beating to catharsis would be good for me.  I also said that I wasn't sure if he was in a place where he would be comfortable beating me to that point.  That I was worried if he were to try, and he pushed himself too much I wouldn't be able to take care of him afterward.  That he wasn't in a state to be able to do that safely, even if he said he can.

And, it's a big thing to beat me to that point.  Honestly, I don't think it's ever been managed.  I hold on for too long, unable to relax, and let go, and with too high a pain tolerance for most people to get me there.

It's a tall order for any top, and given how few people I would trust to do it, means it's pretty much a very small chance for me to get there.

I suggested having someone else there, either as a way for Lux to tag out and take a moment mentally, or if he were to push, to be there to look after us both when it was done.  Which honestly might be the best plan regardless, because having someone there to start coffee and order pizza is important.

At this point, I'm in a state where while it would probably be one of the best things for me to make steps to move forward, I don't think I have the resources to actually manage it.  I will  find other ways to get that much needed reset with the people in my life, and continue on.

Thursday, March 02, 2017

Quick Dose of Society

The other day, I got what I thought was a smart idea.  I'd just google "Thunder thighs" and get to enjoy lots of pictures of men with big pretty legs and cute butts.  It seemed like a great plan, full of awesome rewards.

Well, I tried it, and what came up was a ton of images of things like ways to get rid of thunder thighs, ways to slim down legs, and what exercises are necessary to have thin thighs and legs.  To have "sexy legs" and how to get them.

Then I looked and saw more showing women who were talking about how strong they were with their thicker legs, and how it was them showing love for themselves, and not needed to find a partner.

It very blatantly showed this divide in society for women.  That idea that you can be strong an independent, or thin and attractive, but never can they mix.  And I think that's more media than real life right now.

And we know how much I like to follow the suggestions of media.

I hate that there is this divide.  That women can't be seen as attractive if they are strong.  That we still encourage this thin ideal for the sake of fashion and society and media, as pushed by other women to not be healthy, but thin.

Meanwhile, I can never have that societal preference of a body.  I'm built like a linebacker, with broad shoulders, a large rib cage, and a very tiny waist in comparison to my hips.  My natural figure is similar to the painted pin up figures of the 40's, just with smaller breasts.  That's so far from the current standard and well into what is seen as strong but unattractive in the eyes of media.

However, I do look strong, and I am strong.  I'm in better shape than most people I know, and I doubt that my partners find that unattractive.

And, I'm noticing that the more I look at my strength, and how my figure reflects that, and the healthier I look, the happy I am with my appearance.  I'm not worried with having this super perfect body to the outside world.  If I am strong, and healthy, and feel like me, I will be happy to have my thunder thighs, and big butt, and tell the media to fuck off.