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Acceptance

I am 50 years old, and I still don’t know what my purpose in life is. My life has been strange. People have been born because of me, and people have died because of me. People have lived because of me.

Nothing about me has ever been normal. I have been different my entire life. I am shy, and introverted. I’ve always been chubby/fat. I’m not very feminine. I have social anxiety.

I have hurt people, and I have helped people. I have loved, and been loved. People have hated me.

I am bisexual. Some people ask why that’s important. It’s important because I am able to love, no matter their gender. It took me most of my life to accept that. I lost 46 years of being able to know what it was to be bisexual.

I will never really know why I couldn’t accept it earlier. Maybe it was religion. Maybe it was society. Maybe it was my homophobic brother. Maybe it’s because I wasn’t ready to know.

Sometimes I envy people who know when they’re young. They get that chance to explore when their bodies, and minds are young.  I’m older. I don’t have those chances. It’s not impossible for me to explore, but it’s not likely.

The last four years have been a roller coaster ride for me. I had my amazing husband, but I managed to fall in love with two more people. The second person was an absolute shock. I had no idea that it was even possible to love more than one person.

I learned to accept it though. I accepted that I loved him, but I could not be with him. I made peace with it. Then something even more surprising happened. I fell in love with a woman. Once again, I had to accept that I loved her, but there was no way to be with her.

So, I love three very different people. I am blessed when it comes to love. I don’t think that I am worthy of that love. I don’t deserve my husband. It makes me sad to know that I have caused him pain because of the other two.

My life is strange. I’m very well loved. I don’t know why God put any of them in my life, but I’m grateful.

I’ve been watching the latest season of Degrassi: the Next Class. I know it’s meant for kids, but some story lines touched me too. Like Miles being bisexual. I know that being gay is not easy, but sometimes I think it’s easier than being bi.

My sexuality is not a major part of my life, but it’s always right there. I’m attracted to men, and I am attracted to women. Sometimes I want to scream in frustration. I want so badly to be intimate with a woman, and I can’t.

People are like, “Just go find a woman”. I wish it were that simple. Men are simple. I could have sex with another guy without any trouble looking. Women are so much more difficult. So, sex with men is possible, but sex with a woman is not likely.

I have accepted that. Life goes on. I won’t get to know what certain things feel like.

I don’t even know why I’m writing this post. I’ve blogged about this before. I accept that I love three people. I accept that I can’t be with two of them.

I accept that I am not average. I still have no clue why I exist, but here I am. Life is funny. I exist, and I am loved. Maybe that’s the most important thing after all.

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Regrets

I am 50 years old now, and I have more than my share of regrets. I think my biggest regret was that it took 46 years for me to accept that I am bisexual. I didn’t suddenly become bi, it just took me that long to learn that the feelings I’ve had my entire life made it a fact.

Imagine not knowing such a basic fact about yourself like what your own sexuality is. I’ve always been attracted to other females, I didn’t know that not every female felt the same way. I didn’t know that what I felt about my fourth grade teacher was in fact a crush, and not just admiring her.

Facts…I am bisexual. One of my earliest memories was looking at a porn magazine, and liking the pictures of women. I didn’t know what sex was. I didn’t know that I wasn’t supposed to like seeing those women. I didn’t know that some people considered it “unnatural”. It felt natural to me.

Because I was also attracted to males, I didn’t feel weird. I didn’t think that I was odd. I looked at porn when I came across it (considering this was the 70s & 80s, I saw quite a bit for such a sheltered child)  I knew porn was supposed to be “wrong”, so I felt guilty about that, but not because I was looking at women.

I didn’t accept myself until I was 46. I had been married for 20 years at that point. A year after that, my husband agreed to let me explore. I’m sure in his mind, he thought there wasn’t a chance of me finding someone to explore with. I did go on a few dates with a lesbian I met on Craigslist.

That was a rather bizarre experience, mostly because she was a rather flaky person. But she did do one thing, she gave me my one and only sexual experience with another female. I got her off, but she didn’t touch me. I kind of still think of myself as a virgin when it comes to female sex. My fingering her was the equivalent to giving a blow job to a man. It is a sex act, but not actual intercourse.

So my regret stems from coming out so late in life. I didn’t get the chance to explore when I was younger, and not so self conscience. I’m 50, and going through menopause now. My body has changed. I don’t think I could ever relax enough to actually get naked, and have sex with a woman. I regret that I will not get to experience that kind of intimacy.

I am bisexual, and I crave that intimacy. I want to touch another woman. I want to snuggle with her. I want to be close, and be able to caress her. I want the stupid, and sappy things. Just because I am married to a man I love deeply, that doesn’t stop me from wanting those things. I am not greedy, and I’m not selfish. I am biologically wired to want those things.

I wish that I had known that I was bi when I was younger. But I don’t think I was mature enough to deal with it. I was raised in a religious household. I was heavily involved in church, and I went to a Christian college for two years. Even if I had known, I was too shy and introverted to even attempt to meet a woman for the purpose of dating.

There are times when I wish that I was still ignorant. I wish that I still thought that I was straight. Why did I have to learn it? I suppose that I needed to know. I fell in love with a woman. There is nothing I can do about that. I am married to my husband, and she is married to her wife. Why did that have to happen?

I think that is one of the most bittersweet events in my life.  I have the knowledge that I can love a woman in a romantic way. I also have the knowledge that all I can do is love her, and accept that it isn’t something that was meant to become a relationship. I can live with that.

The irony is, we both lived in Miami when I was in my early 20s. She literally worked right across the street from me. But I met her online 25 years later. There will always be that “what if” in my mind. Even if nothing happened, I wish I could have met her, and just have known her then.

I do have regrets that it took me so long to figure things out. But it wasn’t meant to happen sooner. I’m not sure why it had to happen at all. The knowledge has caused grief. It has caused problems in my marriage. It’s like showing someone a bakery window, but telling them that they aren’t allowed inside to try anything.

If I had accepted my sexuality in my youth, where would I be now? I most likely wouldn’t be around at all. I wouldn’t be married to my husband.

They say everything happens for a reason. I believe God made me this way.  So, at the very least, I don’t have an issue with believing it’s wrong or unnatural. I will just always wonder why it took me so long to come to terms with it.

Do I regret that I am bisexual? Sometimes I do. It has caused problems. It is troubling to know that there are people who would kill me because of it. It annoys me that people fetishize it, or think that my sexuality exists because it increases their chance of having a threesome.

I think I most regret the idea I will not get to experience being intimate with a woman. It’s not impossible for it to happen, but it’s extremely unlikely. I have regrets, but they are about things that can’t be changed now. Maybe things will change, but for now, I just have to be content with how things are.

 

 

 

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Let’s talk about sex

Let’s talk about sex. Yeah, right. Sex used to be one of my favorite topics. I’ve been sexually active since 1990. I’ve had 8 partners if you count blow jobs (college boyfriend) and the lesbian I fingered, and made squirt.

I was 23 when I lost my virginity. Why do they call it losing your virginity? I didn’t lose it, I know where it went. Except, do you consider penetration, or actual intercourse to be “losing it”? Or is giving oral sex to a man “losing it”? My answer to when I lost it would vary on the definition of being deflowered.

The term deflowered just made me laugh. In elementary school, I knew a girl with a Filipino grandmother, and her term for vagina was a flower. So maybe that makes sense.

I chose to wait to have sex. I could have had it as young as 8. I had grown men hitting on me at 11. I was very religious when I was young. I wanted to wait until I was married, even though I never expected to get married. I think the that because I was bisexual, and didn’t know/accept it, also played a part in waiting. I finally decided to do it at 23 because I was being stalked, and had a real fear of being raped.

I gave my first blow job in college. I consider oral to be a sexual act, but not sex. So I still considered myself to be a virgin. I still consider myself to a virgin when it comes to female sex. I did make a woman cum by playing with her, but I wasn’t touched. Again, it was a sexual act, but not sex to me.

Anyway, I’ve been married for 23 years now. We’ve had lots of sex over the years. Maybe it is considered “vanilla” sex, but it’s intercourse. I have talked to so many people over the years about sex. It’s interesting to me the difference in attitudes between older, and younger people. The younger generations were exposed to porn on the internet. They seem to think that every woman should be bare, and that things like “eating ass” (formerly known as rim jobs) are normal and expected. The older men seem to love when a woman has a bush. Maybe because their porn came from magazines when women didn’t shave.

The internet has made it easier talking about sex. I’ve learned things I never wanted to know. I’ve learned about porn. I’ve learned that my body can do things I never would have imagined. I didn’t know that squirting was a real thing until 2013. I was very surprised to discover that I could do it. I was even more shocked when I made another woman do it. It is like physical proof of a job well done.

I’ve talked to a few women about sex. They seem to prefer a woman to be bare for obvious reasons. I’ve sexted a few women. I find it kind of amusing that I could make a woman orgasm talking about something I’ve never experienced in real life. But, I have a good imagination.

So, I talk about sex. Yes, that’s led to sexting or phone sex. That’s nothing something to be proud of, but it’s happened. Maybe it’s weird, but I like knowing that I made someone lose control.

Yes, I talk about sex. And, no, that doesn’t mean that I want to get sexual with the person I’m talking to. There is a difference between a conversation, and sexting. But some people can’t see that distinction.

Sometimes I just tell a story. Like, imagine you’re here, and this happens… I am just the narrator. I’m not emotionally invested in the outcome. But they get off on it.

It’s strange, but when I hit 46, my sexuality went into overdrive. I had some pretty bad behavior, but only online and on the phone. I have only had sex with my husband in 24 years. Three and a half years later, thing have settled down. I don’t have the compulsion/addiction I had then. And that’s a relief.

I still talk about sex. Apps like Whisper make it so easy. I don’t even have to post anything sexual, they just show up. Sometimes I do post something suggestive because I’m bored, and want a conversation. I do find it kind of annoying that I mention my husband, and still have someone hitting on me.

I talk about sex. I’m a boring person, but that is one subject people like to talk about. Yes, I have gotten people off. And I’ve gotten myself off too. It is what it is. But I know one thing, some people are more interesting than others when it comes to those conversations. Some people have a way with words, others just don’t. Sometimes I think about the people, and wonder how many I’ve gotten turned on, and gotten off. No, it isn’t proper behavior, but who said we have to play by the rules?

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Glimmers of hope

This year has not been a good one. So many bad things have happened. I came close to cheating, but I didn’t. I got fired from my job. I had a severe case of depression. Things looks very bleak.

There has been a few glimmers of hope. A friend from Twitter loaned me some money to get us through a bad patch. Another friend sent me a card when some money. Both those of acts helped lift the depression some.

I was talking to a friend last week. I joked that I wanted some chocolate, and told him to order me some from Amazon. He actually did it! I got a box with two bags of fun sized Baby Ruths in the mail yesterday. That was a wonderful thing. I wanted the chocolate, and it was nice to get a gift.

My mom paid for me to get a battery for my van. So no more being trapped at home. And no more excuses to not go job hunting.

Also, I met a woman on the Moovz app. She’s close to my age, and lives about 90 miles away. It’s not close, but close enough to possibly meet. I like her. We have similar personalities. I wasn’t sure how to interact with her, so I asked her if she just wanted a friend, or if she was ok with me flirting with her. She said flirting was fine. Wow.

She told me that she was deleting the Moovz app, and that I was the only good thing that came from that app. She made sure she had a way to talk to me before she deleted it. That made me happy.

She said she would like to meet sometime. I said that I would love that. She was kind of surprised. I don’t know why she would be, I really do like her.

She is so easy to talk to, but I’m kind of awkward. I really don’t know how to flirt with a woman. This is foreign territory for me.

I don’t know if anything will come of this. But if nothing else, I have another friend. I’ve been hoping to find a decent female friend for a while. Life is so unexpected. She approached me, she made sure she had a way to talk to me. That makes me smile. Things seem to be looking up, and I am so grateful for that.

 

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Squirting

Up until three years ago, I had no idea that women squirted. I didn’t even know it was possible. Didn’t know it existed. Then when I heard about it from a female, I still didn’t believe it. Then I had conversations with a male friend. He told me all about the squirting videos on porn sites. So I had to check it out. I was amazed.

I did some reading about it. It seems the fluid comes from the bladder, and comes out through the clit. But it is not really urine. Some women do it, but most of them don’t. It seems that squirting is a major turn on for some people. They think of it as proof that they did a good job, and got the woman to reach orgasm.

Maybe two years ago, I discovered I was able to do it. It’s not something that can be forced, it just happens when orgasm is reached. It doesn’t happen frequently, but it happens. And to varying degrees. It can happen from intercourse, or masturbation.

Well, you know how I said that it feels like proof of a job well done? It really does feel that way. I’ve had exactly one physical experience with a woman. I dated a lesbian a few times last year. One night we ended up at the beach. We sat in my van, talking. I was getting turned on. Apparently, so was she.

I was shocked when she leaned back her seat, and pulled up her shirt and bra. She said she knew that I wanted experience, and to go ahead and have fun. I hesitated for a moment, but then I did have fun. She got really turned on, and pulled off her shorts.

When I touched her, she was wet. I really didn’t know what to do, but I did what I thought would feel good. I must have done something right, she squirted like a hose. She soaked the front seat, and got it on the dashboard. My first time touching a woman, and I made her orgasm like that. Yeah, I was proud.

It is a turn on to know you succeeded in making a woman lose control like that. I’m not sure why it happens, or why it only happens to a small amount of women. I know it’s fun to have it happen, or to cause it. It’s one of the more fun mysteries of life.

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A mouthful

Oral sex, most of us want it, and some of us get it. I love giving it. I like feeling his cock get hard in my mouth. I like hearing the sounds he makes. I like feeling his body respond to my mouth on him. It actually arouses me.

I don’t receive it. For most of my life, I thought I didn’t want to be on the receiving end. That changed three years ago. Weird story made very short, I fell in love with a guy online. Our conversations became sexual after feelings were revealed. Some of those conversations revolved around oral sex. I had to finally admit to myself that I wanted to be on the receiving end. And also that I wanted it from a woman.

Fast forward three years, I still haven’t experienced it. I probably never will. My husband won’t do it for whatever reasons. The likelihood of me finding a willing female is slim to none.

So I don’t know what it is like. I’ve never had an orgasm from it. I actually get offered it. I’ve had several offers. But I can’t accept them. I can’t cheat on my husband. Is it tempting? Hell, yes it is.

I enjoy sex. My husband enjoys sex. But, unlike the younger generations, he didn’t grow up with the internet, and easily viewed porn. Giving cunnilingus wasn’t so common. Most women expect it now. (We won’t even go into eating ass. Nope. Not at all)

Maybe part of my obsession with wanting a girlfriend was so that I could experience receiving oral. I want to be with a woman for many reasons, but oral sex is one of the main ones. But I’m afraid of it. I have no idea what to do, or even how to be relaxed enough to enjoy it.

I’m 49 years old, it feels like the opportunity has passed me by. I don’t know if I will ever get the chance. Oral sex is something I think about. I get frustrated because it’s something I want, but I can’t have. So, I get my mouthful, but I don’t get to be someone else’s. Sometimes life is the pits.

 

 

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Normal is just a setting on a dryer

I have always been an oddball. I never fit in anywhere. I’ve always been fat. I was the poor kid bussed to the rich school. I was the kid who was always at church. I was the one who couldn’t even afford the knock off brands. I was the shy, quiet one.

I’ve always been introverted. I’m not sure if I was born that way, or it became a necessity to keep from being hurt. I didn’t have friends in school.

One of the few places I felt comfortable was the small Christian college I attended. But I was made to feel damaged after hearing a sermon about the evils of homosexuality. I didn’t realize it at 18/19, that I was bisexual.

I stayed a virgin until I was 23. It was technically by choice, but I wanted to experience sex. As a girl, I never imagined getting married. I never planned the perfect wedding in my mind. I just assumed I’d be alone my entire life. I couldn’t imagine someone loving me enough to want to be with me forever.

I don’t know how much being bisexual influenced those thoughts. I didn’t know that loving a woman was an option for me. I don’t know how much homophobia shaped my life.

I was never physically normal. I’ve always been chubby/chunky/thick/fat, whatever you want to call it. I think part of me figured that if I was fat, I’d be unattractive, and no one would bother me. Oddly enough, the past few years have taught me that some people are more attracted to personality. Some people like bigger women. I’m 49, and I don’t lack for men hitting on me.

I was never normal physically in the sense that I’ve always been infertile. I pretty much accepted that in my teens. I never had it confirmed by a doctor, but not having regular periods was a good indication. The only times I was regular is when I was on birth control or hormone pills. Do you have any idea how painful it is to get that monthly slap in the face when you know you can’t be pregnant? Or the irony of taking birth control when you are infertile?

Menopause has hit me hard. The periods stopped, but other problems began. My hair is thinning out. Other, more personal things, have happened. And the worst part, is losing the hope that maybe, just maybe, a miracle could happen, and I could get pregnant.

My sexuality is not normal. I didn’t choose to be bisexual. I wouldn’t choose it. It’s difficult to not be heterosexual. I don’t want to be attracted to women. I don’t want to crave something my husband can never give me. I wish I could experience a romantic relationship with a woman, but that is not likely.

I am not normal. I wish I was. I wish things were simpler. I wish I could talk to people without freezing up. I wish I was more outgoing. I wish being in public didn’t stress me out. Why do I have to stand out, when all I want to do is blend in and be invisible?

On top of everything else, I believe that I am an empath. Everything hits me hard. I can’t watch the news anymore. I can’t handle being around some people, I absorb their negative energy. I deal better with animals than with people. I can’t watch violent movies/shows. I guess a short explanation would be that I’m a psychic sponge. I just absorb the energy that I’m exposed to.

Finally accepting that I’m bisexual at 46 was a shock. The moment I realized that being bi meant I wasn’t straight, I cried. I literally sobbed because it suddenly hit me that people wanted to kill me because I was not heterosexual. I have never deliberately harmed anyone, but I realized that people hated me because I was different.

I am unique. There isn’t another person like me in the world. I am not common. I can’t be normal, because I am not. I am not your typical married woman either. I love several people romantically. I love my husband, he is my soul mate. I am extremely lucky to have him. But I can love more than just him. I hate that it causes my husband distress, but I can’t control my feelings.

I have so many labels: woman, married, feminist,  Christian, poly amorous, bisexual, white, fat. They all describe me, but they don’t cover all of what I am. I am not normal. I could wish that I am, but I never will be. I have a huge capacity to love. I have the ability to empathize. I have the ability to have people open up to me, and feel safe.

One thing that impressed me about the stories in the bible, is God using all sorts of people to serve his purpose. I don’t know why I am here at all, but I hope that I do some good. I know people exist because I do. I also know people have died because of something I’ve done. No, I am not normal. But I am unique, and maybe that is my gift to the world.

ellen1985

Me at 18

ellen2015

Me at 48

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