Let me preface this by saying that I love sex. It could be because I’m hyper sexed, for one
of a number of reasons; however, I’m getting ahead of myself. Anyway, I do like sex, I've liked it for most
of my life, had daydreams about it for as far back as I can remember. Like so many little kids, I ‘experimented’
with myself. Also, after I started my
period and it was sporadic, I thought that I might be pregnant. That comes later. I remember that my mother had some post card
photos from her decorating class, one of them being a picture of David I think,
the statue with the arrow in it. I was
maybe five or six, and I found it so fascinating, and probably erotic, and it
also became a part of my daydreams. Not
the pain of the arrow part: to this day, I can’t stand the idea of inflicting
pain, sexual pleasure but not pain; I can’t even slap a person, however that’s
more apprehension and fear than anything.
I think it was more about the saving of him, more than likely the
somewhat sexual organ that was in full display and the playing with him while
tied up, so that he couldn't get away.
Anyhoo…
I remember having attractions with a great number of my
schoolmates from a young age, boys, a girl or two. I would try and get their attention, not in a
sexual way I’m sure, at least I don’t think so, more like a pay attention to me way. That I’m sure also has a lot to do with the
bipolar and ADHD, the trying to get the attention of people that thought me
different and somewhat strange, a ‘motor-mouth’—nickname through elementary—and
the anxious crybaby that could be tricked into crying by her supposed ‘friends’
(to this day, I remember most of their names) by things like ‘we don’t want to
be your friend anymore’ followed by ‘we were just playing’ after I started
crying in front of them, embarrassed yet again.
First movie reference: the movie Stand
by me, the somewhat fat kid—Corey Feldman--that was kind of ‘allowed’ to
hang around the other three, kind of like that.
They knew they could do it, so like any other unthinking school kids,
they did. By 4th grade
though, I was better at controlling it, however by then other things would set
me off, like being embarrassed by being sent to the hall so much, usually for constantly
over talking. Due to the bipolar and
ADHD, it was almost compulsive, ‘pressure of speech’ I think it’s called. By junior high, ‘motor mouth’ was switched
with ‘obnoxious’ for being so talkative and butting into other conversations. There was also the ‘problem’, which I still
have to this day, that when I’m hyper, my ‘internal thinking’ does not stay
internal, and I’m sure that caused me to be in trouble quite a number of
times. A few years ago, it finally occurred
to why some incident in the 4th grade happened to me. We had a substitute teacher, an old lady
maybe 65-70 years old—grey haired and wrinkly so somewhere near there, and no
one could stand her—instead of the left-handed teacher who wrote mirror of
right-handers (which is where I think I learned it and technically IMO is how
it should be, kind of like mirror twins) and insisted that every left-handed
student, almost 10 of us, were going to learn to nice penmanship. Anyway, a number of students had been talking
and she harshly got onto us about it. I
remember thinking something like she’s
mean and I don’t know why she’s doing that.
The next thing I knew, she was standing over me with the same harsh
face, and I’m looking up like ‘what!?’ I believe that I asked the girl in front of
me what I had done and I believe that she had said that I had talked out loud
and I also believe that I forcefully insisted that I didn't and she said back forcefully
that I did. Oh, I’m also sure that added
to students not believing stuff from me, since it didn't stay in my brain that
I did do something or I didn't even realize that I did it. The ‘thinking out loud’ as I refer to it now,
got me in trouble a number of times: commenting to a fellow band student about
a sister of hers, whose picture she had shown me, was darker than she was, and
her given a shocked reply back. I
probably was trying to think it and it spilled out in words, because one I felt
flabbergasted that it happened and two I wasn't sure exactly why I had again
pissed someone off again. My face would
have been red if it could actually turn red from the embarrassment; my mother
once commented that some years back she had started crying over something and
she said that I had commented that I thought she did it for attention. After that, she made a point of never crying
in front of me. In my mind, I can see
the situation, but I never remembered saying what I was supposed to say. For the longest time, I thought that it was
something that one of the twins would have said out loud, although I definitely
would have thought it to myself. A few
years ago, after my mother insisted that it was me, it then occurred to me that
I was probably thinking out loud/talking to myself and had not realized I said
it loud enough for her to have heard me.
In the end, due to those types of mistakes and the fear that developed
from it, and probably due to the anxiety that I was probably already born with,
have left me still to this day, anxious around people, worried about saying the
wrong thing, becoming too comfortable that the door most have that keeps people from saying things, having
subjects on the brain that would more than likely embarrass most women (like
sex, and not the usual, like kids: I have never wanted them and don’t have them
because of that; men don’t mind that however that also sets a certain view in
their heads about some women; sad but true.
I may have tried to have more male friends than female friends because
of the subject that I am now about to get back to in a moment: talking about
sex. I did come across something on
Jagger’s radio show a short time back about how a study showed that drunken
people don’t lose their inhibitions, not being afraid of doing something. Instead, it’s a matter of people not feeling
shame over doing something, which is somewhat different. It’s more like it’s not PC to do something
but once the shame is gone, you really don’t give a fuck anymore. The others on the show were arguing that the
person should still be considered guilty, because if it wasn't a matter of PC
and not hurting someone’s feelings or something like that, they would actually probably
be inclined to do the deed. I found that
interesting because I’m already like that, trying and restrain myself because
it’s not PC, especially to people that I am close to and feel somewhat
comfortable and safe around, like BFs and ex’s, to say each and every thing
that comes to mind, things that I don’t even get to try and restrain much
because it’s thought so fast and comes out so fast. After that though, there is the ‘I probably
shouldn't have said that’ moment. Things
that make you ponder…. Anyway, back to
the other subject…
Oh, I forgot to mention that the one person that could always
embarrass me, make me feel fear, was, and still is, my mother. She has the opposite bipolar, mostly
depressive, but just as impatient with the immediate switches in temperate that
we both still have; it drives BF and ex crazy that it happens. (Sometimes, I don’t even realize the significance
of it: I think I’m mildly miffed about something and everyone sees anger, which
I never did, and still don’t understand.
It’s like I either don’t recognize the emotions well enough or just don’t
see it for what it actually is, or don’t even see it at all. Who knows.)
To this day, I walk on eggshells around her and won’t tell her how I
really feel about things. I feel disdain
and disgust over things she’s done, the fact that she had me, planned it—she told me so—and my
youngest sister just to have someone to love
her and keep her from being lonely, when after all of these years, I thought
that an almost-17-year-old had an oopsie.
In 1964, who wouldn't think that?
That is one of the things that I have no respect for in any woman, duping men like that. I don’t even know if my father knows what she
did, even to this day. I feel disgust
that she left one of my 3-year-old sisters alone at home while she and Bonner
dragged us to various places, I don’t know if any of them were necessary. When we got home, a bunch of neighbors and a
fire truck were there, dealing with a frightened 3-year-old that only wanted
her mother and was frantically crying and afraid of all of the adults around
her that she didn't know. In this day
and age, she would have been arrested and we would have gone to social
services. Later, that same 3-year-old, I’m
not sure which twin it was, got spanked because she ate some of mother’s precious
fruitcake because was hungry. Stupid and
selfish things like that, plus so many others.
Having no respect for her mother, although now I believe I know why. Other things.
I’m sure that I’m probably like a number of women that would
probably be considered to have issues
concerning sex and would not usually turn it down when offered. Of course, I do prefer men that I’m very
attracted to (usually white, as I said, I’m sure that Bonner had a lot to do
with that). You know that movie Coyote Ugly, with the chick on the CIA
show on USA, Piper something, when her boss was explaining the reason behind
the name of the bar: being drunk enough to go to bed with something less than
desirable and then in the morning, would be willing to bite your arm off if it
was trapped under the guy, just like a trapped coyote will bite its foot off to
escape. Yeah, I've been with those too,
and then later, I’ll try not to make a face as I realize while sober just what/who
it was and trying to come up with
excuses to not repeat the situation just
because they were hot to lol. Men seem
to find it interesting that I make a lot of noise when I have sex, what can I
say....
I believe that a number of my sexual preferences/problems
come from history, most from my mother’s boyfriend. She moved us to Dallas, he coming along,
after she and my father split up. I’m
sure that I, like so many young children, felt that I had been abandoned by my
father, and absolutely hated the fact that Bonner, the boyfriend, had
permission to spank us, and other things.
Of course, it’s the other things
that really caused problems with me. He
would touch me in all of the wrong ways.
Years later, my mother asked if he had done anything to me, which was
pretty hypocritical since she’s discussed the same thing happening to her with
her father and her mother doing nothing.
I’m sure that has something that had me hating black men, especially those that were more forceful in
nature, as in the brash, 70’s hip ‘black exploitation’, 80’s gangster. I also remember that there was a maintenance
man on the complex, a nice white guy, that I more or less felt a weird
safeness/attraction to, around the age of 5-6.
For many years afterward, I mentally, and physically, avoided men like Bonner
and fellow classmates, because of my natural apprehension and anxieties that
brought about deer in the headlights. I remember a kid in elementary ‘demonstrating’
what I looked like in silhouette: very small breasts and a big-ass butt, which
I had even before puberty, which I’m sure the adult BP pills I had to take greatly
contributed to. There were other things
that perpetuated this. My first cousin
playing ‘house’, or more specifically, ‘man and wife’, by bouncing on me while
he had me lay over the end of the bed and me too afraid to say anything about
it (maybe it was just as much fear of my mother’s anger and everything, but I
digress). In junior high, some guy that
sat behind me and he would pinch my ass and I was too afraid to make him stop
or to tell the teacher (the woman not liking my actions in class, like reading
my book for a few days because my schoolbook was missing off of the shelf and
since we were not supposed to use anyone else’s I took it upon myself to just
not do anything. Yeah, I know.) Later, another guy, another white guy that I
also happened to have a crush on, had asked if I had liked the guy and when I said
no, why I didn't stop him. I remember a
guy in high school sitting next to me and putting his hand on my leg during
lunch and when he left bursting into tears over embarrassment, so much so that
I wouldn't even tell the teacher why. I
once cut an hour of class walking around downtown, where our school was and let
a guy kiss me, another of the 3 I had a serious crush on, then went into tears
over reasons to this day I’m not sure of.
A neighbor’s husband would feel me up when I would babysit and he even
kissed me but it was when he tried to reach under my shirt that I stopped
him. There’s a guy that we used to make sexual
innuendos over however he just bores me because it’s all talk now and no
action, yet I've yet to tell him to get lost and to stop feeling me up.
In the last few years, even though I liked sex with my ex
and currently with my boyfriend, I rarely initiate it; this happened in years
past as well, which bugs my boyfriend to no end, since his previous girlfriends
had no problem stating when they wanted sex.
I’m sure that it makes a guy self-conscious. And then add in the manic/ADHD problem of
being irritated/impatient that whatever it is I was/am in the middle of is
being interrupted, which I hate. Middle
of the day sex doesn't help either: I prefer evening sex in bed—lights not
being a problem—so that I don’t have to get dressed again; nothing like going
home after having sex at someone’s place, clothes not fitting exactly the same
as they did that morning, underwear no longer fresh, let’s not even go into
stockings, etc. Ew, it’s so
irritating. I have never been one to
initiate sex, probably due to that apprehension thing. It doesn't help that I have found myself
attracted to guys that aren't necessarily attracted to me. Some article I read a couple of years ago
pointed out why that was. It was less to do with what I look like—big butt,
size B boobs (when 135lb) to DD as I am now at about 165lb. However, after reading that, it came to me
that it probably has more to do with the fact that even though people in the
world, most especially the states, are starting to mix more, most people IMO
still gravitate to what is most comfortable to them; i.e. those that are similar
to them in things, most especially looks, skin and eye color, etc. I've always been attracted to white guys,
both ex and BF are white, but I’m sure most guys don’t/didn't find the same
attractiveness and probably maybe felt a bit weird at my overt attentions. Although, I have noticed that many a black or
Hispanic guy have no problem with my Selena (the original Tejano singer) -sized
butt lol, just not the (mostly white) guys that I am always eyeing and
attracted to. Oh, well, I've learned why
and I've learned not to take it personal even though I still have the
attractiveness to them. There’s many a
guy I work with that I would definitely have sex with, although there are a
handful of those guys that I would not want
to be the GF of. Oh well, all I can do
is look, sometimes drool, and try not to try
too hard to get their attention and flirt too much.
I've probably droned and rambled on long enough…
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