A new friend

She is flirting with me and I can feel it tickle my soul. I’m not one for falling for people or looking for “friend” who will one day be my soulmate. This woman is my muse I think. Her half cocked smile and overt flirtation is screwing with my senses. Usually I am very centered but right now I am picturing moments with her like snapshots to savour. I fight the sexual side of myself, holding back a bit because my fear of devouring her will leave me nothing in the end.
I don’t want her to feel as if she were an object because she is a beam of radiant light that shines with ferocity and to ignore her beauty within is to only snuff a candle before you see what light it brings. She doesn’t even know her own beauty yet she wears it with such grace. I think I was brought to her to show her what I see and she is to show me what I have hidden
within myself.
There are no rules right now. We are good friends who talk deeply and share ourselves with each other. Our secrets held out like gems and tarnished antiques as the other treasures each one and keeps it just as safe. She is safe. She needs someone who is safe too.


It sneaks up on me, that yearning and desire. Most of the time I can kind of push it aside and it’s just a quiet scream but lately I feel like I’m coming out of my skin. I find myself flirting with every woman I meet, hoping that I would somehow figure out if she is attracted to me at all in the span of an hour in a Zumba class before it ends and she parts ways with smiling eyes and a good bye. Or the impish woman with big eyes and tangles if brown bohemian hair… Or the workout partner whom I once had an incredible night of fun and now she runs in front me and I run after her… Both literally and figuratively. I’m a mess.
My husband pours it on and I feel worse and worse. But sometimes I just want to be loved and he gives that in spades… Ugh… So then I feel so fake. I am pretty honest about my attraction to women but I don’t know if I’m even being totally honest with myself…

The King and I

I’m running on Auto Pilot. Asleep while speeding ahead. That’s kinda what it feels like. I have been working out like crazy, fitting it in where I can. I have been taking so many odd jobs that my “real job” is looking like something I no longer recognize. I have my husband pouring affection on me like honey, hoping it will stick. I respond and play alot of the times. I’m not in-human. I love to be adored. I love to play and he’s great when it comes to that. But then when he starts objectifying me or having far-reaching expectations in the bedroom, I feel crushed. We have deep debates and it breaks my heart because he always so far right while I lean to the left. I create events that are Peace related, community based or Art driven, all things in which he has little interest in. It boggles my mind how we ever even connected, being so very different. Was Paula Abdul right? Do opposites really attract? Or is that they go there to defend their side? I feel like I’m defending my side more and more. Then after we vehemently disagree, he grabs my ass. The discussion is over and now it’s on to sex…

I run and exercise with the woman I had a one night romp with a few years ago. (Let’s call her Tori) My husband knows about it. He hides his jealousy well but it comes out in glimmers from time to time. The funny thing is that it has been pretty platonic even though as she runs in front of me I fight my brain to concentrate on running and not to deviate to fantasy-land. We hav really been motivating eachother. It’s probably the only time where I feel free from work and home.

I struggle with all my responsibilities. I am a pretty good mom but I feel like I’m neglecting my kids during the week. I have no energy to make decent meals as I am the only one who even attempts to clean house on a regular basis or clean up AFTER a meal. My bedroom looks like an episode of Hoarders. I have blankets, papers  and clothes piled high and it has no effect on my husband. My list of shit-to-do is so long that it will be forever before I get to straighten out our bedroom again. He is not affected one iota by its disheveled appearance. I however, am mortified. Our house was just like that too until recently. I paid a friend to help me clean up. In the end my husband vacuumed and threw out the trash. He did put some elbow grease into what he was doing, so I’m not gonna dog him on it, but I have been in that situation before where my best friend came over before a birthday party and the two of us spent a day and a half cleaning while he sat and watched TV. My children have seen this and think it’s soley my job to keep after EVERYBODY despite my best efforts to teach them otherwise. The sad part is, he throws his hands up and says “They will never do it,” almost immediately. This frustrates me more than anything.

I’m sorry,. I don’t like to dis him. I don’t like airing all of my dirty laundry and I probably won’t keep this post up very long because it’s not fair to him. He cant defend himself. But for right now, this is my side and this is how I feel. I’m tired of bottling this shit up.

He loves on me and I feel like I’m pretending. I know that I’ve built a wall between us, so it’s not entirely his fault, but at the same time he has done some things that just disappoint me to the core. Things you don’t tell people because you don’t want them to look at him as a bad guy or a lousy dad, cause over all, he’s a good guy trying to do the right thing.  A good guy who makes mistakes. No he doesn’t abuse me or my children, in case you’re trying to guess. I think it has mostly to do with his anger, his lack of sleep and his list of priorities. He stays up too damn late hoping for sex. He gets upset if its a no, but if he gets it,  it fuels his need for more. He then doesn’t sleep much cause he has to wake up early, he works with an angry man, and then comes home expecting me to play happy housewife with dinner ready, which happens about %50 of the time). He has little interest in playing with or reprimanding the kids, he would only yell from the couch, until he gets mad that they are ignoring him (like he has been doing to them all evening.) I see all this and it turns me off . The screaming, the bad attitudes and the escalations. It makes me less of a mother. It hurts my heart. And then he loves on me… I feel the wrenching of my heart. I turn away as he holds me tight, seemingly pulling my love from me…

I steal moments where I surf the web for stupid ads I’ll never answer. I meet women that I wish I knew if I could come out to and ones I have but haven’t had anything go anywhere. I glance at women at the gym, hoping I might find a smile back. I reach for another world that I know is there yet I have no guts to travel to. As one friend heard from a group of lesbians “I want to be a lesbian so bad I can taste it…” Maybe it’s being a lesbian or maybe it’s as simple as being free. Being free to be who I am without all this shit attached. Maybe I need to just not be married. If I get out, loud and proud, that would be fucking awesome… but it doesn’t HAVE to happen. I just have to be happy and not so damn lonely all the time.

I feel like I’m some Queen in a castle I didn’t build in land thats not really mine. While I have the adoration of the King and frivolous material things that one might align with happiness, I sit alone in all it’s splendor, waiting for something real to fill the void. The closest thing I have now are my kids, but that is a different kind of love and fulfillment. My friends all live in lands far away. When I was young I would have parties and dinners where everyone would come. I would go hang out with my best friend and have dinner. Now I am at home working, working out or with my husband. My free time is spent running and drinking because I need to escape. But all I do is run around outside my castle and drink with my king, getting nowhere.

I’m sorry. I know this isn’t entertaining and I must be griping in just about all my posts about the same damn thing, but I ned to get it off my chest. Yes, I know, it’s insanity… doing the same thing over and expecting different results. Please just tell me how you tell a man who tells you everyday that you are beautiful and that he loves you, that You have fallen out of love with him and better yet, you think you’re a lesbian? How does one do it without  breaking both your hearts and wreaking havoc on your home? I don’t know if I could handle that. I don’t know if I want to crease this picture perfect family, let alone tear it in half.

I took a stupid test on facebook that called me a rebel, yet I am so damn safe it’s scary. Yes, I will stand up for the little guy and call out a bigot with a single swear, but mar the image that I have created of this happily married woman? Not on your life!  It’s so stupid but it’s true. I’m so damn scared of myself and what I really want and how I will look that I am frozen with fear. I learned from my mom that you just don’t really make waves, you just stick it out. That’s what married people are supposed to do. Or at least that’s what they pretend to do. I don’t know anymore. I’m supposed to love this man, flaws and all but it’s not just his flaws that I don’t like, I don’t like his views on a lot of things. our opinions are so night and day, they don’t even share the same zipcode. His commitment and love for animals is wavering at best. I am an animal lover and rescuer. I will spend money and go into debt for pets… he will not. It seems that the only things we share are our high sex drive and humor. (And my drive has been waning, due to age and/or attraction, I’m not sure.) I’m not sure there’s much else that we really have in common. He’s even afraid to dream small. That has eroded many of my dreams into nubs of their former selves. I’m tired of living so small and hoping for so little. I expect more from life and from people. I want to do big things and not feel ashamed when I make plans for such things.

I want to travel and be allowed to dream big. Open my own art gallery. Have adventures, sometimes with my kids and sometime alone. I want to be free. Why does freedom sound so beautiful yet it’s so scary to get there? Why does this have to be so hard?


I look in my mirror at my reflection
but my reflection won’t look back at me
She’s sorting through dreams
deciding which ones to keep
and then she  wipes her hands
brushing them clean

Courage to think big

3c6f2dfcdaf960c07be6d227cf2daf55I have been battling depression a lot lately. Mostly in silence. My blog has been ignored as my life whizzes by at a breakneck speed. I fill every waking hour with something to do trying to maintain some sort of purpose. I take on an ungodly amount of projects yet feel completely lost in them, like I wading in to too deep water and then getting pulled even further out by the riptide. The shore slips further from my view as I frantically swim harder towards it.

I work and work and work. I learned that from my dad. He was always working and had no time for us. My mom too, was a workaholic creating two latch-key kids. It was a free life without much supervision. I was always involved in some after school activity while my sister stirred up trouble. (Not to say she was always stirring up trouble, but it did seem like it.) I never liked having an authority figure in my life. My parents readily gave me my reigns at an early age and never looked back. I can see that in my eldest daughter. I guess being married has always made me feel like I handed over the reigns to someone who has no idea where they are going. So in lieu of sitting up there watching us pass the same mistakes and cross the same bridges I make myself busy. I hide and prepare. For what, I don’t know. The day I get off the wagon? The day I steal back the reigns? I still don’t like to have someone feel as if they have to be “the Man” in the house. If that entails taking out the trash and fixing the cars, then, by all means, you are “the Man.” But if it means that I am below you or who I am, how I feel, or what I’ve done has less value then you most certainly are not “the Man.” And neither am I.

I have been struggling with my weight ever since I graduated from college. I am currently the biggest I have ever been with the exception of my pregnancies. (That was really hard to type.) I have been brought up to believe that this “imperfection” makes me worth less as a woman. I have been feeding my depression as if it were some raging furnace, trying to satiate something inside. It doesn’t take much for me to gain weight, either. Honestly, I have a fat gene that snickers every time I put anything even remotely unhealthy into my body. The sad part is that my goal was to have my ring be able to slip off my fat finger and then I would deserve to be free. How fucked up is that? Like being skinny would give me a pass. That in that event I would now be ready for someone to like me or that I would be worthy of my own attractions towards women because now I looked the part? Cause you know, you can’t be anything but a hot femme, right? It’s the only acceptable alternative to a perfect housewife. Ugh. I disgust myself sometimes. Why do we put ourselves into these boxes that just shut us in?

My mom once went on a tangent about how “lucky we are” because our husbands somehow found us attractive, apparently overlooking our gigantic waistlines. That was sarcasm, cause I’m not huge by any means, but man it sure felt like it when she said that. At one point when I was a vegetarian and at a size 4, I commented on my own “thinness” and she retorted that I would never be thin, but I was skinnier than I used to be. That stuck to me too. I lost my appetite to try and gained one to not care that day. I’m trying to teach myself how much I deserve to be happy at whatever size I am. I can be unhappy with how I feel in the body that I have, but I must accept and love it as a friend and not bully myself. They all say you have to love yourself, and I thought I did. What I’ve realized that I’m loving the future me way more than who I am at this moment. I keep looking at what I might look like if I lost weight, or if I was single, or if I did everything my way. The problem is that tomorrow is over there and we are and will always be living in today. So now I gotta figure out how to love myself as i stand today, fat fingers and all. I have to come to terms with what I deserve, because it’s a lot more than what I was giving to myself. I don’t want to wait the rest of my life to begin because I’m not quite ready yet. We will never be ready, we just have to be present when it happens.

So here I am, finally trying to kill the fat gene with punctuated bouts of Yoga,  Zumba, and juicing. Once in a while I’ll try to run a 5k but my motivation had waned so much it recently didn’t happen. Who cares, I’ll still try to run. I want to feel good and excercise does help. I try not to bully myself in the mirror. I desperately yearn to accept how I look at the moment. It is a struggle. I reassure myself that this is a loveable body. If someone doesn’t love it, it’s on them and not on me. I hope to one day find kindness in my heart and give myself a break. I want to be healthy and will always want to feel fit, but I don’t want to hold myself back for what I am not. We all need to find love for who we are in this very moment. Life is so fleeting and today will never be here again. So when we move from it, we all must move towards healing and acceptance. Courage is beauty in its purest form.


How do you know if you’re a lesbian?

A friend of m19b3065e9857afc575b84bd1c90c14ecine posted an article by Lauren Morelli,  a writer for Orange is the New Black. Don’t confuse her for the original writer, Piper Kerman, whom the storyline is based off of. I did, for a few moments anyways. Well, Lauren wrote an article about her experience on the show in the writers office and how it made her aware of her own inner workings. She had just gotten married and apparently realized that she wasn’t being honest with herself. I think her fiancee’s long illness probably kept her from such introspection (not to say it was his fault in any way.) It’s just that life sometimes get’s in the way of being able to discover who you are. Sometimes we use our busy lives to to hide from who we are. I know that I am completely guilty of this.

How do you know if your a lesbian? You like girls… alot. You get hot and bothered by the thought of touching them, and are almost completely turned off by men. If you are bi, you are more likely to choose someone based on love and not by genitalia alone.There are so many women who think that they are asexual or just don’t like sex only to discover that they have repressed their desires at such a young age because it was so taboo. I know I did. My aunt was a big ole dike and yet it was never discussed. It was not really even ok to pontificate on who her “new friend” might really be. She was out, yet discussions about her lifestyle were closeted in my home. I knew then that my feelings must be shameful and wrong. Girls who were bi were considered slutty, dirty and either indecisive or just didn’t care. That wasn’t me. I was very prim and took great care in my virtuosity. I did not want to be deemed a slut. I was confused, but I wasn’t sleeping around to figure it out. Maybe I should have.

I thought I was bi, albeit a very closeted one, when I got married. My husband knew that I was attracted to women, but this was something I really didn’t discuss with him unless it was to use as a verbal sex toy. Because that’s what our relationship was based on. Lots and lots of sex. Now before you start judging and wondering how someone can question if they are a lesbian and not just bi, I like sex. All kinds. I’m a very sexual person and when I was in my 20’s I was on fire. He happened to the best extinguisher I could find. And I loved him. I used sex to connect to men, I use it to connect to my husband and to satiate him. I never felt like it was something “for” me. It was a gift I could give. He was always trying to be better and give more. I have become less and less interested and really only do it for him, rarely do I want it. I know TMI. But this is my diary in the sky.

Plus, I did go to gay bars even while we were dating, a ton of them, but they were mainly filled with gay men sprinkled with a few lesbians or straight bffs, aka “fag hags.”  I was too shy and completely self conscious about pushing that envelope. I could not approach any woman and just yearned for one to approach me. My best friend was a very butch gal and I think she also intimidated any prospects. I was lost. I saw something that I wanted to have so bad, but it was like looking through a store window at things I couldn’t even dream to have. Am I lesbian? Am I bi?

I got married, moved, had kids and life moved on. I always kept the fantasies playing in my head. When I was pregnant my hormones made it even more apparent where my attractions were. It was not the man lying next to me. Being a people pleaser, I just kept going, hoping that I could ignore this part of me. I was thinking that I am bi and what if I jumped the fence to find the very same grass? Maybe even a similar relationship? Was breaking up this family worth it? There are more things about him that I don’t share because they are not about me and I don’t like sharing disparaging things about him. It’s not fair. He has no recourse. He cannot defend himself, so I shy away from telling you everything, sufficed to say, we are not on the same level in so many ways, I wonder what I saw in him sometimes. I know that every person is flawed so I cannot hope to ever see perfection, or a “perfect” relationship, but where does one draw the line? When does it become about settling for less than it is about acceptance of flaws? (I know, this wording is cloudy. For example, say a woman is a volunteer at a shelter, but not only does her partner not go with her, but doesn’t seem to support her choice or just doesn’t seem to care much about that part of her life. Is it just a “thing she does.” Is it healthy to have so many separate things that the other takes no part in? Does it mater if your not on the same page about a lot of things? Does sex matter that much, especially if I can still be satiated to a certain degree?  How much responsibility should lie on one person in a relationship?) These are things I ask myself daily. I wonder if I just lost my attraction to him and not all men. Granted, I meet men all the time when I bar tend and never feel a spark of attraction.

Honestly I am attracted to the good in him. The daddy he is when he is “on.” But when he is off or he starts talking about immigration or politics, I just want to barf. I cannot change that. You don’t change people, you love them for who they are, flaws and all. I’m not sure if I can love his flaws any longer. I don’t know how much of how I feel is based on my sexuality or just what my marriage looks like at the moment

How do I know if I’m a lesbian? I don’t know for sure but I do know I’m not straight. I do know that I want to do what’s right for myself and for my family. I’m afraid of what that might be, but it’s got to happen sooner rather than later. I’m so tired and I need to find courage to be who I really am without apology. I don’t want to live like this any more. I deserve to be happy, whatever that looks like. I deserve a partner who wants to be a part of my life and not just someone living off of it. I cannot fuel two people any longer. It’s too hard.


If you found this because you googled “How do you know if you’re a lesbian?” or “Am I gay?”  You probably are, or the one you were questioning probably is. Just like me. Don’t worry it will be ok. Shit’s about to get real.

Here’s Laura’s article http://www.policymic.com/articles/89727/while-writing-for-orange-is-the-new-black-i-realized-i-am-gay

Here’s another great link to the Seven Myths About Sexual Orientation, plus if you click around it will lead you to some other good reading.



New old friends

I’m so excited! I finally get to meet a dear sweet friend whom I got to know over the past year through this very blog! She has also gone through many of the same things as I. Her wisdom is beyond her years and it will feel so good to finally get to give her a hug!
There are moments in your life where you are scared that they won’t happen so you lock up your excitement, banish anticipation and hide how really thrilled you are because if something should happen it feels like an even bigger let-down. I did all that until now. Now I’m banking on seeing her and I’m giddy.
My husband has no idea what this person means to me. He thinks she is just a pen pal of sorts. Before you get any ideas, no, we have only mildly flirted. She’s more of a soul sister, not to box her in there. We could spark like nobody’s business, but at the moment she is a ray of light in a world sometimes filled with cloudy days and that is worth so much more to me.
Rare is the chance to find others that can lift your spirits with such ease. I have a handful of AH-MAZING friends and to find another that is just as beautiful inside and out is a rare gem. AND I GET TO FINALLY MEET THIS RARE GEM! Yay!