Plan in Motion: Genital Piercing

Around a year ago, I mentioned a desire to get a genital piercing. It never worked out, for lack of effort on my part and enthusiasm on my partner's.

Now, I'm revisiting that idea. I've spoken to my trusted piercer back in my home state and confirmed that they do the triangle piercing that I originally wanted. He said to me that he is somewhat morally against them due to some drama surrounding the "inventor" of it and such, but that they have some practice with it.

So, if I am anatomically built for it, I will go for the triangle piercing (pierces horizontally beneath the clitoris). If not, I will get a simple vertical clitoral hood (pierces long-ways/vertically through the clitoral hood). We'll find out when I get there, which will be mid-August.

I'm quite positive I will go for it. I love piercings, and I love how they look. I'm interested in the possible sexual enhancement, but that is by no means their only winning point in my eyes. I absolutely adore my nipple piercings and expect to have the same results with this one. It makes me feel... true to myself. It's something you can't get from just looking at me - you have to know me. People may look at me, but they don't know me. Plus, they look fucking awesome.

I could only hope to find a guy with piercings of his own, though I'm guessing I'll never encounter it. One of my friends, Pyro, had a Prince Albert for a short period before taking it out, but he's the only guy I know that's badass enough to do that.

I hope to have a partner who will enjoy giving me oral sex, or at least one that won't tell me to my face that they think my vulva is ugly. Maybe this is subconsciously part of my reason for getting it; I don't know. I have been told once by a lesbian friend that my vulva was beautiful; but women tend to be that way, don't they? Regardless... I love my breasts that much more after having them pierced, and having them played with is much more fun. I love my clit, and maybe this will make it more fun for both parties, too.

Waiting for a couple friends to respond if they'd like to come with me to get it done, to hold my hand! Haha. Nipples didn't hurt, nor did the nostril, but I'm not going to make assumptions about this territory. Especially with the triangle, uhhh, that's a lot of flesh!

I feel sort of vain... but I love my body sometimes. If I more vain, I'd post a pic. I'm too shy and nervous though.

I want this piercing done so badly! Hurry up, August, hurry up.

Me, and Five Other Women

I'm becoming slightly more aware of myself. And appreciative. I feel good, I look good. It makes me happy, and it makes me talkative, and it makes me feel alive.

I'm learning about myself, and what I like. What I like to wear, what I like to do, what I like to see. I suppose I had closed myself off, in my relationship. While he never told me what to wear, he'd (all within his rights) tell me if he didn't like something, and subsequently in my submissive ways I would try to do what he said he liked. It wasn't a control thing, I simply wanted to please him.

Now, I'm experimenting a little. I refuse to wear make-up, but I've got some nicer shoes, some nicer clothes, been putting some sweet polish on my nails. Little things I always enjoyed but rarely indulged in.

I was a wimp.

Being aware of myself, I have then become more aware of my surroundings. Ninja would relentlessly comment on whatever faintest male attention I would get when we were out, but I never had the slightest hint. I'm sure some of it was embellished before, but I'll notice now when a man does a double-take or stealthily looks at me in the reflection of a window. There are always the strange encounters of whistling and "damn!" while crossing paths.

It is difficult for me to assess how these events make me feel. I feel pleasure, certainly. Someone finds me attractive, that is nice. But, if they find me attractive enough to let me catch them looking at me, much less making a show of it with some holler... I'm sure they do it to many others. And it's meaningless. If one were to talk to me, I'm sure they've talked to dozens of other girls. And like that one guy who gave me his number a few months ago, I'm sure he's given it out to countless girls before.

I am just another girl to be looked at.

I felt so special when Ninja first started befriending me in our drawing class, three and a half years ago. Here was an attractive man, friendly, talented, talking to me. He was a social butterfly, indeed, but he took time out of his day to particularly get to know me. He hounded me, pursued me, and charmed me, and I felt special. I felt wanted, I felt so surprised! I resisted him, but he didn't give up. I thought that meant he must really have wanted me.

Instead, I imagine I just put up a good chase. He would talk to other women just the same as he spoke to me.

This is something I hope I will get over one day, but I can't help that believe that if anyone were to actually show real interest in me, that they would be playing me along with five other women. There is something to be said for dating casually and non-exclusively, sure. But how can you ever know if someone is faithful?

In that sense, I feel ruined. I can't fathom trusting someone's fidelity. I absolutely have no faith in it.

With that mindset, I know I can't go about seeing men. Of course, I am busy enough with my life and my self-awareness. It is my current path. I accept it and I welcome it every day.

I can, however, always trust the talented, faceless lovers of my fantasies!

That Boy is a M-M-M-Monster

A friendly commenter suggested I reconsider my claim in the last post that Ninja never loved me.

They had a fresh point of view, and pointed out that he seemed genuine with me from my depictions of him here. They were right in that I should not be tempted to make him into a monster.

Truly, I am not trying to make him into a monster. There were lovely times, and there were wonderful times. We had plans, we had shared interests. That was, of course, what I fell in love with. I know that he has the potential to be a great person, boyfriend, and husband. He could truly be successful and confident. I have been with him enough to at least know that.

The truth which I was hesitant to share (omg dramaz!!!) was that he is a chronic liar and womanizer. I had my suspicions, I had my paranoia, sometimes I even had it layed out right in front of me with big flashing signs, but I thought that I was just paranoid and that my "love" could fix it otherwise. I thought I could live with it because he never told the truth to my face. I simply wanted to believe his words.

When you lie, the truth will eventually come forward. And it has.

Until some event happens, he will not face what he needs to face in order to grow up and be a healthy person. And because of what I now know, I don't believe he loved me. I hope he cared about me sometimes, as his actions may have suggested, but you could not love someone and do what he has done to me.

As such, it is in my best interests to wash my hands of him. But I don't wish anything bad on him at all. I hope he will rise up one day and not hurt anyone else, but we all have our paths in life and lessons to learn. I had my part in this as well, in being an unhealthy outlet for his behavior.

I didn't want this to turn into a blog about my dramaz, so I've tried not to. I am grateful for what he has taught me, both under the circumstances of our break-up and simply for the good that did exist. (He did inspire me to start this blog, at any rate.)

Believe me, so many people I have spoken to want me to turn into the psycho ex-girlfriend and unleash on his ass. But I just don't think that is going to affect him at all, and it will only take up my energy. I am taking my lessons, and my memories, and I don't regret a thing.

"Making Love"?

If he never loved me, did we ever "make love"?

I don't often use that phrase - I suppose all the different terms for sex jumble around with different shades of meaning on them. It is a heavy, emotional phrase. Some people think it's bullshit. Me, I'm not sure what I think it means.

When we would sleep together, I would notice subtle details, and cherish the whole experience. The lighting, muscles moving underneath skin, sweat trickling, sheets twisting. I would reach my hands towards him and feel his torso, his abdomen, his face. Feel the stubble, touch his earlobes, crush my fingernails into his side, push his ass towards me as he thrusted. He would kiss my feet, nuzzle me, caress my breasts, look into me softly.

Even the last time we slept together, days after we had broken up and I knew it was so wrong wrong wrong to give into him, we did these things. While we were together, it felt to me that these things were a part of making love. I loved him. I thought he loved me.

But he didn't.

So, I feel angry at myself for thinking that it was love. I feel angry that the deception of love was so strong that I refused otherwise. I feel angry that being a woman, with passion, made me a victim.

There is most certainly a separation between love and sex. I don't believe at all that you need to love someone to have and enjoy sex with them. Many people live out this truth, and I have no problem with that.

But sometimes, sex is an expression of love. And I had thought that I had experienced that. It's just amazing to me that I was so fooled, and now all those feelings seem so far away.

Refreshed

Whew, guys.

A lot has happened in the past few days. Many conversations, much introspection, some healthy flirting. I feel completely renewed! I have been rockin' my job, eating some great food, talking with fabulous people.

This weekend I'm going to go to the mall with London and get some new fashions - Ninja was always very picky so I wouldn't often deviate from my normal plain style. But I feel like being adventurous.

I've been learning how to be flirty again, particularly with some of the fine fellows that come into the chocolate store I work at. I have to say it's pretty fun! I get along so well with men; I'd forgotten that. But I enjoy their company and I enjoy their way of thinking, with or without some saucy remarks. Per my modest wishes, I have been granted a few nice compliments. It has made me feel like, maybe, some day, someone will really want me again.

Sex is on the brain again, twofold. I won't pursue any man quite yet, but I ache for touch and passion. I feel that magnetism sometimes, if I stand near. I remember what it truly feels like, sexual energy. It is a beautiful, raw thing.

Transferring that to my masturbation habit, oh damn. My orgasms have been ridiculous. The moments creeping up to climax make me moan audibly, and the peak itself is phenomenal. I don't know why, particularly, but I don't mind one bit. I fantasize as I normally have... but everything is electrified. I love masturbating. Maybe one day I will find a partner I could climax with. That would possibly turn me into a sex addict, though. My two favourite things.

Anyway, this is my state of being.