Volume UP!

The more time I spend with my sweet H and talking to M (I’m glad we are back in touch) the more facinating nI find these women. I love the outward androgeny of both of them (both soft butch) paired with the unexpected feminine. The guys clothes and ball caps with a soft, scented, well groomed woman beneath. I love the outward appearance of masculinity but the very feminine cognitive states. I know H is going to wear something from the men’s department…yet she’ll ask me if what she has on is ok. I love talking about tea length hem’s with a woman in sweats and a ball cap.

But even more I love the stricktly feminine. The desire to talk and connect intensely, to reach out and touch all the time. That she reads me as if I wear speaking my mind (although this quality has proven dangerous). I’ve thought I’ve had these things with a man but they have only been shadows of it. With a woman the volume is turned all the way up.

Please read post that the below link leads too. I think it is very important. I only wish I had more exposure and more followers so more people would read it.

CLL, share this with you son.

A Disease Called Perfection


I had a long talk with an old friend last night. It was the first time that I’ve really spoken truthfully about my confusion to a live person. It was the first time I have been able to say…. that while this journey is where I need to be right now I’m not convinced that I won’t want to be his wife later. While this is all good and well for me to feel it does not provide a course of action and that is what I need to decide on.  I need to decide if I want to be alone or his wife and that decision moves forward with me into the future unlike my sexuality which can (and probably will be) fluid.

I stop and look at the “facts” –

  • I love having my own little place.
  • I love having K in my life.
  • I (really) love women.
  • I’ve loved men but feel like I’m pretty much over them.
  • I’m scared to be on my own and this economy doesn’t let you sugar coat possibilities for being unemployed and destitute.
  • If I stayed with K I would retire comfortably (very) but that’s not a reason to stay in a relationship that is fulfilling… or is it? and anyway the thing is it’s not completely unfulfilling.
  • K feels like home
  • I want to stand strong within myself.
  • I feel strong in myself these days.

On High

I came out to my husband last night. I didn’t tell him I am a lesbian because I’m not sure yet if that label fits. I told him instead that I am struggling with my sexual identity because that very much does fit. I explained it genesis with my crush on M but I left out any mention of intimacy because it just doesn’t really matter. It wasn’t the sex so much as my overwhelming feelings for her. The air between us felt shining and clean…and for the first time in a long time I felt an inkling of desire for him. I didn’t move on it. I didn’t want to send him mixed messages and I want to be good to my word of exclusivity to H. But, nonetheless it was there… if I wasn’t confused before I am now.

Mr. Capote’s Mother

My beloved B once told me I was like a leaky tea cup, that no matter how much how much (love) he poured into me I (my cup) was never full. Last night I read a an excerpt from a book about Truman Capote’s character Holly Golightly on the NPR website.  It seems that Mr. Capote would have understood.

“But no number of perfume bottles or whiskey bottles, no matter how deep or beautiful, could alter the fact of her absence. Nor could most of the women or men to whom Truman attached himself. They could never pour enough warmth into the void.”

The “her” the author speaks of is Capote’s mother who was at best absentee.  The quote had 2 effects on me. First it made me wonder about my own mothers role in my leaky-tea-cup-ness. Secondly, and more disturbingly, I found that they quote brought me to the feelings I have for women. The feeling that that tea cup is full. That is how my heart felt with my dear M and now with my darling H. It feels full. So why is this disturbing? Because it suggests to me that my desire to be involved with women is based on my longing for my mothers love.

I suppose this is only disturbing in theory. Ultimately, if I feel full, happy, and loved then does it really matter how or why? Does it matter that a longing for my mothers love brought me to love women? I doesn’t to me.

Now, please understand that my love for H (or M before her) is NOT maternal. I do not equate either of these ladies with my mother. But instead what the thought evokes is this feeling of warmth and being cared for. It also evokes that lovely warm smell that women have, yes my mother had it and yes M & H both have it.

Ultimately, being romantically involved with a woman feels like coming home. Pure and simple.

How I am Feeling

scarred, lonely, alone, missing ‘home’, confused, angry (at K), in love (w H), missing H, a bit lost, unmoored, worried, scarred of being a dried up old lonely dyke.

I’m really really frightened of this last one. I’ve always been frightened of ending up old and alone. But I don’t think that’s a good reason to compromise on life or two stay in an unhappy marriage.

Un Fait Accompli

I told my husband, unequivocally, that I am done.

But the truth is that while I have so much anger and resentment over the years of neglect lack of respect, I do love him and we are good together in many ways. But the alternate truth is that I have no NO sexual desire for him at all or men in general AND he did neglect me, he did marginalize my input, he did reject me fpr YEARS… so sometimes I wonder how the hell can I have moments of doubt over my decision. I gave it a good try. For years I tried talking to him telling him what I needed emotionally and physically. I cried, a talked, I pleaded and he blew me off until the day I left… then suddenly he’s paying attention.

I think I’m just second guessing myself out of fear of the unknown in a future that is not as secure. But it’s hard nonetheless.

So Done!

You know… I’m just so freaking angry! I’m angry with him all over again. I look at pictures of us when we were still new and I think of how much I loved him. I think of how happy we were and how I felt like I had finally found “the one”. The one person I could work through things with, the one person whom I could build a future with, feel secure with, feel wanted and loved with but he squandered that love.

For 5 years I told him I needed more. For 5 years I told him I was unhappy. For 5 years I told him that I’d happily do with less money to have more of him. I feel betrayed. I gave him all of me with out reservation. I promised him the rest of my life and he neglected me.

As much as I’d love to kiss and make up it’s just not in me, H or no H. There is just too much water under the bridge, too many years of resentment and feeling like I was the only one trying. It’s all just a day late and a dollar short.

Where does being a lesbian fit with this? I’m not sure but I honestly feel like if he had stepped up and we had worked on it I wouldn’t be where I am right now. My guess is that I would have stayed in a wonderfully emotionally fulfilling relationship that was sexually unfulfilling. I suppose I would have stayed only to wake up one day and regret it… or maybe not. I don’t know. I suppose it doesn’t matter.

Who knows maybe I should even be thanking him for neglecting me, breaking his promise and hurting me.

Happy Birthday to Me

Friday was my 48th birthday. When I woke up there were cops outside. Later I found out that my neighbor had died. They found him that morning on his front porch, his keys in the door.

I went 2 hours south to spend the night with H. After a quiet dinner we curled up.

There were no cards, no presents, no flowers, no hoopla… and it made no difference.