Okay, all, please feel free to not do this at all, but I was curious as to what salixbabylon associates with me. I was not let down.
Oh, Lordy… what couldn’t I say about birth right now? But seriously, how *awesome* is that whole process? I’m so so willing to talk about how scary it looks. How loud it is. It is primal in a way most Western culture is *deeply* uncomfortable with. Organic. Raw. Painful. Powerful. Sweaty. Slippery. Sexy. Open. Intense. Birth is *hard.* It’s called labor for a reason. But it is also probably one of the most physical and intensely powerful things a person can do. I said it was sexy, and I stand by that. Not in the high heels and stockings sense- not by a long shot- but still… sexy. A woman that involved with her own body, that intensely focused on physical sensations that she is on a different plane of existence... labor-land… it’s a lot like orgasm-ville in that you kind of have to both let it happen and stay energetically involved in order to get anywhere. There is a kind of beauty in that that it stronger than beauty. More powerful. Sexy in a way that goes far beyond bumping body parts and sexuality as it is defined culturally.Can it suck balls? Oh fuck yes. Can it be mismanaged? Do bears shit in the woods? (You know, wild ones. Who live there. Not ones in zoos. Or wild polar bears.) I kind of want to go into a big long description about how important it is for women to have privacy, to have food and water, to have quiet, warm, and to have sturdy non-judgmental support. Babies don’t come out as easily without it. But that’s a rant for another time. A rant possibly with booklists. I will say that we need a *massive* overhaul of the maternity care in the USA and a *huge* PR push to raise awareness of how birth works on a physiologic level both in the medical community and the public. It breaks my heart a little bit when I hear young women in particular say they really really want to be pregnant but when they talk about birth it comes to “just knock me out and hand me a baby at the end.” What a bummer. .
How I love them. Sometimes hard to find ones that fit due to a ridiculously short torso. but so worth it. I kind of love that the corsets I like best (full hour glass over the tits tight laced types) are more or less two person items of clothing. It is just a metric ton easier to get into and out of with a second pair of hands. I like that. Sharing is caring and all. Dressing and undressing a partner or having them do the same for you for sake of ease as much as for sake of sexy-times is intimate. Romantic. Gentle. Caring. Plus there is something dead sexy about warm flesh pushed tight thrumming beneath the boning of a corset. *pant* And dudes in corsets? *swoon* I just love the sexy subversiveness of it.
How much do I love that someone I have never had sex with associates me with playful sex? A whole bunch, that's for sure. Playful sex is awesome. And perhaps I overuse that word, but playful sex is fun. I kind of think sex isn't worth it if you can't, at some point, play. This is sex. Sex are not Srs Biznus. (Clarification point: serious sex is also great as long as next time or the time after that or the time after that you can play together.) I love the word play. It conveys so much. It's active. It's fun. It's sweet. Above all it is connecting. Playing with your partner (or hell, even yourself) is a chance to let your barriers down and invite someone in on the joke. "Come enjoy this with me, I think you'll like it" is what playful sex says to me. And that connection is what sex is all about.
Now here's something I do not love. Do not like. DO NOT WANT. Okay, sometimes the end results are good. I love where I am currently living. I loved the last apartment I was in (though both of these have more to do with roommate choices than anything else). But man... settling down seems just about the best thing in the history of ever. Moving brings up all sorts of childhood traumas and insecurities and fears that I really wish I were done with by now. I will say that one thing I have learned from my elders is that a lot of that stuff doesn't go away, but it evolves, surprises you less, and that dealing with those childhood things is a lifelong process.
Hmmm... Well, I did this. Quite a while ago to some, fairly recently to others. That's the fun part about "coming out," it's not really a onetime thing. Due to the heterocentric nature of our culture everyone is pretty much assumed to be straight until other evidence is presented. Being in the middle of the sexuality spectrum provides its own unique coming out dilemmas. Talk about the ex-girlfriends or the ex-boyfriends without mentioning one of the other and people come to their own conclusions. I was 21 before I was comfortable with the word bisexual as it applied to myself. I still don't like it that much, but I use it and it doesn't bristle me anymore. I think it's too limiting- implying both that there are only two opposed genders and that my sexuality is bisected between the two. Blech. I like it better than pan- or omnisexual though for myself. Both of those labels hold a connotation of inclusivity beyond what I want to say. I'm very very very picky about who I sleep with. Not by body parts, but I dislike the "game on" implication I think of when I am labeled pan- or omnisexual. Bisexual works. Most people are familiar with it. As I get older I am moving out of the "young college aged girl who makes out with girls while drunk or while her boyfriend watches" implication of the term bi. That's nice.
Coming out is so freaking personal. It happens in steps. And it is so often to come out to those people who don't mean as much to you first. Low risk scenario, ya know? I knew I was attracted to both boys and girls since I was quite young, but didn't come out to my folks until I was 22. Part of that was the whole "I like ladies but I'm not a lesbian" thing and part because I really needed to make sure I had a stellar grip on what I wanted to say terminology wise and be in a place I could accept whatever they had to say and not let it squish me like a bug. I make it a policy to never ever judge someone who chooses to stay closeted. I wish they wouldn't. Wish more that our society was a safe place physically, emotionally, and socially for sexual minorities. But I had a girlfriend for years before I was able to even imagine coming out to folks who weren't effected by our relationship. I wasn't a lesbian! Which was true- is true- but having that fear of people assuming that I was attracted to girls enabled me to see why folks who were lesbians or all varieties of queer folks would want to keep mum. I'm proud to be out. The only place I will even put an effort into being "discreet" is at work because I work with seniors with dementia. Having their trust is more important than having them know I like bums of all kinds regardless what they reveal when they turn around.
Well. That's a post. In other news I'm having a rocking good term despite it being more difficult than terms past. Life is pretty damn good.