Label maker

Some good comments on the post about bisexuality and the words we use to describe ourselves. Mrs. Fever said…

The problem with labels is that they are labels. Words attached to packages in stark lettering that can only be deciphered through the lenses of each individual’s experience. Which sticker “fits” according to our own self view has little to do with others’ interpretations. How we interpret what’s inside another’s Self, based on the label they slap on themselves, varies far too greatly for labels to be unifying. After all, one person’s tuna surprise is another person’s cat food.

I get that. I do. But the thing is, we need to label things around us. It’s what our little monkey brains do, whether we want to or not. I think we fail, though, when we try and make labels to describe ourselves that carry the entire genome of who we are and what makes us us.

Sexuality is hardly the only thing that struggles with this. Politics, for example (at least in the United States), is similarly problematic. You are either a Republican, a Democrat, an independent unaffiliated voter, or you associate with one of several marginal parties (Green, Socialist, etc.). But that’s not all there is to it. All Republicans are not created the same. Nor are all Democrats. And an independant might still always vote for one party or another.

There are these people who cut hair and we call them “barbers.” However, within barbers there are those who cut hair with their left hands. And within that group of lefties, some have red hair. And within those ginger leftie barbers, some have facial hair. And drive a Prius. And are Geminis. It’s entirely possible those left-handed, ginger, hirsute, eco-freindly and astrology-obsessed hair cutters really want to stand out as distinctly unique among the other barbers and come up with their own word (which I can’t possible even imagine because my example is so silly). But if they did and, when asked what profession they were in, answered with it they’d probably get some rapid eye blinking in reply. “You mean like a barber?”

Which is not to say that these very specifically distinct people don’t deserve their own identity. As I said in the original post, I love that we live in a time when there is so much diversity in our understanding of sexuality. When I was a boy, there was none of that. Barely two buckets you could put yourself in. Now, you can roll your own. But, I appreciate Suggestive’s point on this:

I found bisexual the easiest language to pass along a simple message. “I am not straight.”

I would only change that to include, “…or gay.” “Bisexual” means I’m living on something other than either end of a bipolar, black and white world. Somewhere in the middle gray space in between.

No, bisexual is not a perfect word. But it is one most people will have some understanding of when hearing it and that’s not nothing. We need labels because by creating that word we also create an identity that is greater than ourselves. An identity that requires acknowledgment by others. However, I think we need to see these labels as not the end of the conversation. They don’t need to perfectly summarize all that we are. They should be seen as a jumping off point for further discussion. No matter how well we categorize and label, at the end of the day, we are all unique and deserving of respect. Any label is nothing more than a broad categorization.

I’ve struggled with this before. I’ve even thought of myself as not “bisexual.” I’ve honestly hated that word most of my life and have only recently decided to reach an understating with it. If I want to have a conversation about myself or sexualities other than those dominant in the popular culture, I need to start somewhere.

That’s all “bisexual” is to me. A starting point that says I’m not straight. Or gay. I’m different. Let’s talk about it.

Bipanflexible

Lorelei, aka Suggestive, answered a question that’s been on my mind over on her blog. To summarize, how are bisexual and pansexual different things? The questioner defined them thusly:

bisexual: sexually attracted to both men and women.

pansexual: not limited in sexual choice with regard to biological sex, gender, or gender identity.

Lorelei’s reply was pretty spot-on, I think (“bisexual” is an older word from before the concept of a non-binary gender existence was common plus it might be better shorthand than “pansexual” before you get to know someone if all you really want to do is say you aren’t straight). You can go read the whole thing. It’s good.

The part that made me curious was this:

Pansexual opens up bisexuality to include transgender people, intersex people, and like you said – people that don’t necessarily gender themselves. In other words, someone who is pansexual is more or less bisexual, but someone who is bisexual is not necessarily pansexual.

I’ve thought a lot about this in the past (more or less the first time I found out Buck Angel was a kind of person in the world, whenever that was). When I say I’m bisexual, I might really mean I’m pansexual as it’s defined above because I’d very happily have sex with both trans men and trans woman. Either someone presenting very masculinely but with a pussy or someone presenting very femininely (and maybe with breasts) yet with a cock1. Sure. I’m game. I like all those things and I don’t really think changing up the how they’re combined would be a bad thing at all. In fact, I’m sure I could even hook up with a non-gendered person. Probably. Well…probably.

This snuggles up to something else I’ve been pondering since I found it the other day. A few months ago, someone posted to imgur a set of charts that supposedly breaks down active FetLife users. Three charts in particular caught my eye.

First, the sexual orientation reported by all the active users:

This is a graph of the Sexual Orientation distribution of all Active users - Imgur

Wow, I thought, look at all those bisexuals! Plus all the others I’d probably lump in with bisexuals (and then get scolded for doing so if they knew I was doing it). How awesome, I thought. My people!

Then I saw this. Sexual identity reported by just the men:

This is a graph of the Sexual Orientation distribution of MALES - Imgur

Fucking hell. Really, guys? Sixty-seven percent straight!? Can we believe this? Is it really true that out of all those thousands of kinky people (57% identified as male), so many of the guys are dead-on Kinsey zeros?

Of course, this is how people are choosing to identify. That’s not necessarily how they are. I suppose if you’re a guy and you’re married or in an LTR with a woman and you don’t have a lot of interest in men sexually and no ability to pursue any anyway, then you’re straight. I also think there are a lot of straight men who have fucked around with guys, especially in their youth. I know because I was one of the guys they fucked around with. More than a handful of current men who, when they were boys, seems to enjoy my naked company and seem to all the world as straight (and at least one I can think of off the top of my head who’s made borderline homophobic jokes on Facebook).

My personal opinion based on my own experiences with men who identify all over the place is that they actually are all over the spectrum. How we identify has less to do with how we are and more to do with how we want to be perceived. Men are not given bonus points in our culture for calling themselves anything outside “straight” and, it seems, will only do so for specific reasons. Same goes for men who call themselves gay. They might have a tiny or more consequential yet still minority part of them drawn to women, but they get no bonus points for ever letting that show.

Of course, I’m talking about men here because that’s what I know best. Women actually are somewhat rewarded for not identifying as totally straight in our culture. The men like it, for one, but it’s also more accepted. This is shown by how they break out on FetLife:

This is a graph of the Sexual Orientation distribution of FEMALES - ImgurJust look at them. Not even a third say they’re straight. More call themselves bisexual, not even counting all the related flavors.

Who knows. Maybe all those guys really are super-duper straight and I’m full of shit. Maybe women just are more fluid sexually. But it doesn’t feel that way to me. I think a lot of guys aren’t perfectly K-0 but say they are anyway. Perhaps they confuse what they are doing with what they are? “I’m with a woman so I’m straight.” That would help explain why bisexuals are often called “formerly” bisexual with they settle down with someone of either gender. Who we fuck isn’t what we are, right? But maybe it’s a more prevalent perspective with men.

It’s also possible this is a generational thing. People my age were pushed to go straight or gay and neither side seemed to think something in between was valid. That seems to be changing with younger people. They’re inventing all kinds of interesting variations on the theme. And good for them. Bi, pan, flex. To me, they’re all essentially the same. But what they aren’t is fitting into anyone else’s conception of what’s “normal.” I’ll count that as a good thing.

1 And let’s not get started on the fact that other cultures have archetypes of feminine men in them like the Japanese.

Love and hate

Over on his blog, Drew wrote a post that was also a question. Basically, since he now has personal insight into outwardly-appearing “straight” couples and how they interact, along with his intimate understanding of how homosexual couples live and interact, he wondered how the two were different from one another. Gay couples are more often open than non-gay (apparently) and gay couples are often open with one another about their sex lives. Are “straight” couples the same? How are they different? And, of course, I use “straight” in quotes since that’s how Belle and I appear from outside.

I think M/M couples are more open in both senses of the word. They’re more often open sexually and they’re more open with one another about it. My simplification of their experience would be that it’s easier for them because they’re all guys. In a mixed gender scenario, you have something like alternating currents involved. The differences in how the genders process sexuality and the associated emotions need to be negotiated and that, more than anything, is what keeps F/M couples from chatting too freely with one another about sex and relationships. Of course, some do. But many (most?) don’t. When the couples are divided and grouped into their component genders, talk of sex increases because the currents are all the same. But even then, there’s a lot of uptight straight people out there.

And, of course, guys are allowed to be slutty in a way society frowns on for women. When the sexual dynamics are all about M/M sex, there’s a lot more of it. I’m not saying men are simpler sexually than woman or that woman are too complicated or whatever, only that it’s very easy for men to have sex without consequences (and that’s multiplied by about 10 when it’s sex with another man). I think men are also socialized to more freely have no-strings-attached sex than women. If it sounds like I’m saying men are pigs, I won’t lie and say that’s not true, but I think women could just as easily be pigs if we were all raised outside our dominant “good girls don’t”/”monogamy at all costs” paradigm.

So no, Drew, “straight” couples tend not to talk about one another’s sex lives unless their participants are broken out into their gender groups in which case they might. At least, that’s my experience.

Two caveats. First, openly kinky people are probably more likely to have these conversations than the non-kinky or the closeted kinky. Second, I clearly have no idea how those in F/F relationships relate to one another. Zero.

Now, when it comes to actually being in an open relationship, I think there’s more of that going on in the “straight” community than is let on. It’s such a taboo (or has been) that even if a relationship was like mine and Belle’s, chances are quite slim that information would be volunteered, even to close friends. Therefore, I think it’s impossible to know how many couples are open in some way (whether that be swinging or “fine but don’t tell me” or a cuckolding thing or like ours or whatever — there are many available flavors).

I would encourage my readers to check out the comments to his post because there’s a lot of good stuff there. But there was also this from someone called Pat…

I really don’t understand why everyone is so casual about this. For the straight couples it’s cheating. Plain and simple. For the gay couples, I guess you could call it a form of cheating but since those marriages are soon to be voided, I suppose it won’t be.

I made a vow when I married my husband to stay with him and only him. This bow [sic] was to him but also to God. I like to keep him in chastity to make our sex life stronger, but it’s just for us.

Open and cheating are not the same thing. I can tell you that for a fact since I’m someone who has cheated and is now in an open relationship. Open is so much better. And, if you read my last post, you’ll see how open can also be perfectly casual. In fact, I have to imagine it’s at its best when it’s casual. If I was sneaking around with Drew behind Belle’s back, that would be cheating. Since I’m not, it’s not. Plain and simple.

Regarding the dismissive hatefulness of the rest of that first paragraph, all I can say is you’re on the wrong side of history. You’ll soon be relegated to the same bin we keep racists who hated interracial couples and religious fanatics who persecuted the left-handed. That makes me very happy. We’re leaving people like you behind. I don’t say that with hatred in return. It’s a simple observation of fact. You’re either on the equity bus or you’re under it.

Also, point of fact, regarding the “marriages will be voided” comment, the question being taken up by SCOTUS would not, even in its most damaging result to marriage equity, void any marriages already performed. Nor would it stop marriages in states, like mine, were the elected legislatures made it lawful.

Regarding the question of vows, I can’t imagine why we couldn’t renegotiate whatever we laid out to one another soon-to-be twenty years ago. I can’t imagine why one would let their younger, less experienced selves place them in such a rigid box like that. Funny thing is, opening our marriage has been nothing but good for our relationship. So if by doing so we’ve strengthened the marriage, how is that going against the spirit of our wedding vows?

Of course, you can choose to make promises to your imaginary sky friend, but I’d rather stay focused on Belle and me, thanks. In my estimation, promises to gods have resulted in immeasurably more suffering and pain on this planet than the opposite. They’re all too often used to shield and justify hateful, damaging, and abusive words and actions. I’ll have nothing to do with them.

Pat also went on to say…

I’ve recently started reading [Thumper’s] again now that it’s back to more he and belle and chastity versus the gay fantasies and his feelings for sex with you.

You will understand that hearing you say you’re happy to read my blog again now that you perceive it to be more about one part of me than another you find distasteful does little to endear you to me. If there was a way for me to blot out my words so you and people like you couldn’t read them or find any value from them, I would. You must take me as I am, all of me. Both my wife and my boyfriend (and his lawful husband). If you choose not to, then please stop reading me.

I chatted with Drew about Pat’s comment after she made them and how much more emotional things like that make me than him. His said something that made me profoundly sad. Of course, he’s used to comments like that. Words that degrade and dehumanize and minimize him and his feelings and his life. He’s accustomed to dealing with injustice, prejudice, and intolerance. I’m not. I have lived in my privileged “straight” lifestyle and have only recently been exposed to terrible people in such a personal way. Unlike Drew, I haven’t had the opportunity to build up a thick emotional scab.

I don’t want that scab. I never want to let words like her’s roll off my back. Whether or not she was intentionally hateful, she was and I always want to feel an urge to say, “FUCK YOU,” than not. Impolite? Oh, sure. But justice is often impolite…at first.

Dining among the beautiful people

Belle and I went out to dinner Saturday night at a shmancy new restaurant that feels like it’d be better suited to Soho than our fair prairie metropolis. Even the people in it seemed to be imported from one coast or the other. Where do these people live? Food was pretty good, though.

Anyway, we had a chance to talk, just the two of us. It was nice and something we needed as there were real life things that had to be discussed (but are unrelated to the world of this blog). Along the way, Belle asked how things were going with Drew.

At no point in my life did I ever think my wife would be asking me about my boyfriend but there she was doing it and all I could do in response was smirk. But it was fantastic and wonderful and such a great thing to be able to chat to her about him and me and me and her and the funky life we all lead. She’s entirely comfortable with the position Drew has in my life and that makes me very comfortable. It’s amazing to me how well this whole thing is working out and I’m impressed with all four of us involved that we’re able to be so perfectly cool about it.

To clarify about Drew’s “position,” I feel for him about how I’ve felt for all the other men I’ve been involved with. In the way my brand of bisexuality allows, greater than just a friend but less than someone I’m romantic with. I feel close to him and very fond and am quite pleased the pressure to have to feel more than that isn’t present. It’s great to have a relationship like this where I can be totally honest about what I need and can give back and not have to worry I’m not giving what he needs. In fact, I think I’m giving him exactly what he needs.

I told Belle again that I encouraged her to find her own Drew-like person, but she again said it wasn’t for her (and no, I’m not harping on it). She’d be afraid of developing an attachment beyond that which I have (or can have) for Drew, nevermind the time commitment something like that would require. Funny thing is, I expect if she ever did pick someone up on the side like that that she would develop feelings for him but I don’t find that in any way threatening. I know what I am to Belle. That said, of course, I’d be jealous. But not an unhealthy jealousy grounded in fear and insecurity. Maybe jealousy isn’t even the right world (or maybe we don’t have a word for it). I think whatever frisson I imagine I’d feel would actually be healthy for me and our relationship. The natural byproduct of our inherent promiscuity as a species. A little high octane fuel, as it were.

A little while back, Belle said she was glad I wasn’t poly. Thing is, I don’t know that I’m not. Do I love Drew? I don’t know that I’d go that far. As I said, I’m fond of him. I feel inside me the capacity to be fond of more than just him, though like Belle, I can’t imagine having the time. When I was unfaithful to Belle, I think the part of it that may have bothered her most was when I said I had “feelings” for the other woman. And of course, I did. I’ve never been good at sex without some kind of attachment like that. But nothing in those feelings changed how I felt about Belle. If anything, it drove me to feel more deeply for her. Nothing in those feelings were a threat to Belle. Same with the feelings I have for Drew. There’s not a finite reservoir of affection inside me that can only be divided up so many times. I don’t think that about any of us. More than ever, I think the limiting factor in how many loves we can have is that insecurity and fear. If not in us, then in our partners.

But whatever. The point of this post is to point out how great my wife is. That she could find the security in herself and to know well enough what she is to me to allow me the freedom to have Drew on the side. She’s awesome and I’m lucky. We’re all lucky. And for that, I’m grateful.

Apple, radius of falling from tree, etc.

The other day, my son let me know he was bisexual. He did it as an aside in a text message as if he was relating his dislike for capers while ordering something containing them at a restaurant. Real smooth-like.

I can’t say I’m very surprised. A little over two years ago, late on the night President Obama was reelected and the Minnesota Marriage Amendment (which would have defined marriage in the state constitution in the heteronormative way even though state law already said the same thing) went down in defeat1, he told me he was gay. The amendment had been topic number one for some time as the election neared and he knew I was vehemently against it. I suppose, in the light of that apparent support and open-mindedness about alternative sexuality, he decided to tell me about his homosexuality. He did so, with some emotion and trepidation.

Problem is, I didn’t believe him. Not for a second. I know gay. I am really familiar with gay kids, too, having been surrounded with them at one point in my life. I also pride myself on having a honed gaydar. None of that gave me the idea he was at all gay. But you don’t tell your kid who’s just done this emotional thing that he’s wrong. You tell him you love him as he is and always will and only want him to find happiness in the world. Then you hug him and tell him to go to bed because he has school in the morning.

After that, he demonstrated zero percent gayness. He dated a handful of girls, one seriously (and recently), and (as far as I could tell) no boys. We never discussed the gay thing again. Just left it out there, sitting. Then came the bisexual declaration.

I wanted to tell him he was doing it backward. Common practice is to identify as bi first then gay. Bisexuality is a station, not a destination. He was doing it wrong.2 But I didn’t. I didn’t say much of anything, really. Didn’t want to make too big a deal of it. He certainly wasn’t. Last night, he did it again for Belle with me sitting there. Kinda of like, “Did I mention the bisexuality thing? Or didn’t I?” Again, no big deal. No great unveiling. Just supportive recognition.

This is complicated for me. I’ve never talked to him about my sexuality, though I have blogged about it on my muggle blog (with its occasional tiny blip of readership) and he knows about that blog and may have read what I wrote there. He’s never asked. On the one hand, I feel like I need to tell him something. On the other, he’s already about 20 years ahead of where I was at his age. He’s out at school where I’m told it’s no big deal and now he’s out at home. No big deal. I recall how badly I wanted my dad to talk to me about his sex life when I was sixteen (read: NOT AT ALL), so even though he’s not going to follow the standard path and he’s apparently not going to follow my path, he is definitely on a path and is showing little sign of needing someone to show him his way.

Of course, this makes me proud of him. And a little in awe. I see a lot of me in him, but he’s got a lot of his mom, too, and the combination is formidable and more than either of us, I think. One day, he will lead people. He seems destined to do it. He will deserve to do it. I doubt he’ll ever be apologizing to anyone for who he is nor should he. Such incredible potential.

As it stands, I doubt I’ll talk to him about being bi for a while. He just doesn’t seem to need it. Of course, he doesn’t have all the answers yet, but part of being young is finding those yourself. There’s only so much listening to his dad any boy will do even when he isn’t talking about sex. Whatever Belle and I have been doing for him so far seems to be working.

I did set him up with his own subscription to Dan Savage’s Savage Lovecast.  He’s just sixteen but he’s a mature sixteen (looks and acts twenty) and I could only have wished at that age to have had a resource like Dan. I think it will be important and ultimately healthy for him to be exposed to the full breadth and depth of the human sexual condition that is regularly featured on the Lovecast. I can’t say that Saturday was the exact best moment to do it, but waiting until he was an “adult” would be far too long. There are so many things he needs to know and none of his friends are going to know them any better than he does and I doubt he’ll get much from the school other than the official line (and he’ll only come to me under extreme duress, I’m sure). In any event, I deemed him ready for it. Hopefully, he gives it a listen.

Now all I have to do is start steeling myself for when his sister gets to be that age. <insert wide-eyed and terror-filled emoticon here>

1 And which led to a Democratic take-over of the statehouse and, ultimately, marriage equity in the state.
2 NO, of course I don’t really believe that.

Sin

I’ve been told that in polite conversation you should avoid discussion of religion and politics. Well, we’ve already breached the religion thing (and besides, how polite can this conversation be since I’ve shown you maybe a hundred pictures of my privates and told you about the things that’ve ended up my butthole).

A reader calling themselves Purple left a lengthy riposte to my entry from the other day where I went off on Amy the bigoted homophobe. Purple, it seems, is using me and this blog to research a bisexual alien character in some fiction they’re writing. Yes.

Their comment starts out well…

I’m a Christian, though I’m starting to prefer follower of Christ because I don’t want to be lumped in with idiots like Amy. People like her piss me off to no end. She may claim Christianity, but she does NOT behave as we’re instructed to behave. She is an embarrassment to my faith. People like her have done so much harm to the LGBT community, and to many other people groups, and heaped more pain and hurt on a group of people who are already going through more pain and hurt than any person should have to deal with.

Yes, fantastic. Go on…

It’s easier to hate someone because they’re different than show Christ’s love to them.

Um, OK. I get that. Good on you for sticking to your teachings. The best Christians are those who take the “Christ’s love” angel rather than those who get so much attention nowadays. You were saying…?

Do I believe homosexuality is a sin? Yes, I do. But it’s between you and God. Not you and me.

Oh. It was going so well, too.

To be fair, they said a lot more and you are free to read it all yourself. In fact, please do. I’m in no hurry.

Indeed, Purple was saying many things that seemed more in keeping with the Christian ideals I admire than Amy was by a long shot (as far as I can tell not being one), but I have to stop and say something about sin. Because it makes my brain boil.

Homosexuality is supposedly a sin. Supposedly. The Ten Commandments don’t mention it, but the Bible is full of stuff we’re not supposed to do. So let’s pretend it calls homosexuality a sin, too (even though there’s ample room for debate on that). It seems to me that most of the things the Bible calls out as sins are choices. Adultery, stealing, getting tattoos, eating pork and shellfish, wearing clothes with tears in them or made of cotton-poly blends, trimming your beard, being uncircumcised, working on the sabbath, and — my personal favorite — being raped if you’re a virgin. There are lots of these things. All choices (like that being raped thing). All bad. Apparently.

Two points I’d make.

First of all, as I said in the post to which Purple was commenting and pretty much every person on Earth knows about the the Bible if they know anything at all, good Christians do things all the fucking time that are disallowed by the Bible (like eating cheeseburgers). They have made choices to ignore those rules. Ever had a part-time job on a Sunday? Making cheeseburgers? At a place that disallowed facial hair? Triple whammy. And why not? Because they’re stupid, right? I mean, what creator of the known and unknown universe worth his/her/its salt would give a flying fuck if I decided not to look like a guy from Duck Dynasty? He/Her/It has nothing better to do? So, if it’s the case that we already pick and choose the things we want to follow from the Bible (and the biggest one we’ve chucked overboard is the whole remarrying after adultery and divorce thing), why not homosexuality? Why not? I want an answer to that.

Second thing is, of course, homosexuality is not a fucking choice. If it is, and you’re a straight dude, go suck a dick. Show me what a choice it is by spreading your legs and getting to know the joys of anal sex. We do not have choices in what we find sexually appealing. Zero. We can choose to bury those feelings and let them build and fester and gnaw away at ourselves and our wellbeing, but that’s not the same thing at all. No matter how hard he tries, Marcus Bachmann will always be a giant queen. Nothing he can do about it.

Personally, I think the “homosexulality is a choice” thing is rooted in the experience of bisexuality. If you’re a bisexual, you actually do sometimes have a choice. Not the kind I am, of course. I could only be happy married to Belle (or, to be technical, some other woman, but Belle’s my favorite). But they’re not all like me. And even if they were, they might easily confuse their sexual attraction to men (if they’re men) to be akin to what a true homosexual feels toward other men. As if sex acts and who we have them with are the only axis to the sexuality spectrum. A good boy growing up in a good Christian house goes out for the football team and enthusiastically dates a cheerleader (oral and anal only so they can stay virginal) but, when he’s alone in his bed and jacking off, suddenly finds himself thinking about his coach or the team captain or how the wide receiver’s ass looks in his uniform or all those guys in the shower and all of a sudden BAM! homosexuallity is a choice. Bullshit.

What kind of god creates people to be a way that is sinful? By default? So they they can never know happiness in their lives unless they “choose” to be sinful? What kind of bullshit is that? This isn’t the same as cutting your beard or eating bacon. This is deep, soul-filling stuff. Not just fucking. Emotional fulfillment of the highest order. I want an answer to that, too. How can living as you were created be, in itself, sinful in the eyes of a just and worthy god? You may as well call left-handed redheads sinful. It’d make as much sense.

The real problem with the line “homosexuality is a sin but between you and god” is that it’s a slippery slope to other kinds of evil. Gay parent? Teacher? Doctor? Child? What’s off limits in how those people are treated by good Christians? Thankfully, we’re moving past the point where simply being gay was enough to deny someone custody or visitation rights to their children or the right to work, but it’s not like that everywhere in this country. Not yet. Not by a long shot. And if you’re the good Christian parent of a gay or trans child, there’s nearly nothing you can’t do to “fix” them. All because homosexuality is a sin in the eyes of a god. That’s where it starts. It is the root of all that evil. All that pain and misery.

We are not ignorant people. We have science that tells us things that were previously heresy. The earth is not the center of the universe. It is not 6,000 years old. Humans are not the only “people” who have lived upon it. Homosexuality is not a choice. The genitles we are both with do not define the gender we are.

We have outgrown the need for sin.

The only thing we should take from the Bible is the best part of what Purple talked about in their comment. Love. Mutual respect. You know, the Golden Rule. If we just followed that and let consenting adults doing no harm to others live as they need and want to, then the world would be a much better place.

Starting the new year off wrong

I really didn’t want this to be my first post of 2015. I wanted it to be my review of the KHD X3 espresso 3D printed chastity device. I wrote the bulk of that yesterday but need to give it the final Thumperesque spit and polish before posting it. That was what I meant to be doing right now. Instead, I’m doing this.

Before I really get going, I’d like to warn you that if you’re the type who doesn’t like it when I rant at ignorant fucktards, move along. If you’d rather your new year start off with positivity and good will toward men, find something else to read. If you want to pretend like the world isn’t filled with hate and intolerance wrapped in the blessings of the “love of god” and that I should just let it roll off my back and move along, then you should. Because I’m fucking sick of it. And I’m pissed that the hatred of others has caused me to feel so much anger and hate on a day I’d rather not.

Reader Amy is back after saying she never would be with the following comment left on my last post (don’t bother looking, I’ve spammed it):

Happy New Year, thumper. I read you nonstop and want to say thank you. You’ve helped me keep my husband at a level he should be for 3 years now. I have to say I was one of the worried ones earlier this year when the blog went more gay, but very glad you are no longer talking about that stuff and that guy hear. I know this may be not be pc, but the straight people need you. Have s great 2015.

I was immediately offended by this comment but Belle told me to let it go. So I did. I ignored it. Then Drew sent me the comment she left on his site:

Just a note to say happy new year and that I hope 2015 is the year you find God and quit tempting men to change and cheat on their wives.

I also hope you’ll realize marriage is between a man and woman and not Adam and Steve. Please quit saying you are married as that’s just not right.

Peace to you and I hope you find your way.

Even on a good day, this would piss me the fuck off. But today wasn’t one of those days because I’ve been thinking a lot about this:

fakedansavage_2014-Dec-31

That’s from the suicide note of a transgendered teenager named Leelah Alcorn. She wrote that and then threw herself in front of a semi. When I read things like what Amy wrote that some would tell me come from a good place because they mean well and others suggest I should just delete and let go I think of kids like Leelah. The hundreds of thousands of kids like Leelah, some whom will kill themselves but most of whom will live in pain and misery because of their parents who speak from the same place as good old Amy. Her and others like her doing real and serious harm to innocent lives every fucking day by cloaking their ignorance and intolerance in their selective reading of a mythical fairy tale we’ve all agreed has some significance and isn’t the wholesale manufacture of a group of old men trying to control the actions and lives of pretty much everyone else rather than the word of god as they told us it was. The ignorant and hypocritical people like Amy who decide one part of the bible means something really important about homosexuals and people of non-standard gender identification but choose to ignore the parts about rape being a perfectly valid pretext to marriage and all the pro-slavery stuff and how we shouldn’t eat shellfish or mix the fibers we wear and on and fucking on because it doesn’t really matter what the book says as long as you’re using it as your cudgel as you hew through young lives and sit in abject judgment of others whose only crime is trying to live in love and find happiness. Because fucking GOD.

Once upon a time, I was one of those kids. I was living with my dad and his wife after high school and my on-again, off-again boyfriend (the one I’ve mentioned who has the wonderful cock) slept over and he fucked me (and guess what, Amy — I liked it A LOT). My dad heard and maybe even saw that without my knowledge and confronted me with being a homosexual shortly afterward. I denied it on a technicality. I didn’t think I was gay. Not like the boy who fucked me. Not like my father thought when he said the word. So I said no, I wasn’t.

My father, being a god-fearing, bible study teaching fellow who — if you pressed him — thought the gays deserved their AIDS, suggested we do family counselling at his church. I didn’t want to but I had nowhere else to live (my mother was out of the question at the time) so I figured I’d go along with it in hopes we could address other issues in our relationship. However, after a half dozen sessions or so in which he and his wife didn’t show up, it became clear to me this wasn’t family counselling, it was Thumper counselling. I’m fortunate that I was already an adult and the counsellor at the church was an OK guy and I wasn’t an underage kid like Leelah and the church wasn’t full of radical Christians with a piss-poor comprehension of the sciences of genetics and psychology. So I stopped going. Soon thereafter, I moved out of my dad’s house and our relationship was seriously strained until I became engaged with Belle. Perhaps he thought, like most Christians, that I “chose” to be with a woman rather than men.

The other day, I quoted something Dan Savage said in his recent Playboy interview.

In countries like Uganda, leaders have this easy way to assert their moral superiority: hating gay people in the same way shitty, fucked-up Christians in America do. Putin is very blunt about this. It’s how they prove their moral superiority to the West. They don’t have to take better care of their citizens, they don’t have to have a functioning democracy, they don’t have to have a decent environment, they don’t have to have a justice system that works. They just have to hate gay people really hard and they’re better than the United States, better than Canada, better than France. It’s exactly like the Christians. They don’t have to stop masturbating, stop having premarital sex, stop drinking, stop getting divorced and remarried. All they have to do to be good Christians is hate gay people. “I don’t have to keep my dick out of anybody; I just have to hate you and where you’re putting your dick.”

Emphasis mine.

Reader Deadrody replied:

This: “…like the Christians. They don’t have to stop masturbating, stop having premarital sex, stop drinking, stop getting divorced and remarried. All they have to do to be good Christians is hate gay people” is nonsense. I’m actually about 100% sure that there is no such person on earth. Anyone claiming anything similar to that, is not remotely a “Christian”.

Making a caricature of 80% of the American public is not useful, helpful, or true.

I’m sorry, Deadrody (and not only because you’re dead), but look up. It’s not a caricature. Those would would carry the banner of “Christian” in this country are exactly as Savage said they are. They’re like Amy. They’re like my dad. And, might I add, as someone who very much does not count themselves as a Christian, if you don’t like the caricature, do something about it. Fight it. Call it out as the intolerant ravings that it is. It’s all done in your name and if you choose to be silent on the subject then it’s perfectly understandable that people like me would assume you’re all the same absent evidence to the contrary. Unfair? Maybe. Prejudiced? Perhaps. But you don’t need to be an African slave in Mississippi or Native American on the North Dakota plains to understand their instinctual fear and suspicion of the white man. It’s just human nature.

So, to conclude Amy, Drew is not tempting me. I advertised for someone like him. I did. I started it. All he did was raise his hand. And I’m not cheating on my wife. She knows all about my relationship with him. She approves of it. And “marriage” is a legal construct, not something you get to define in your narrow head, and right now in the majority of the country, Drew and Axel’s marriage is as valid as mine and Belle’s. Get used to it.

A great man once said, “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.” I think it bends a bit faster when the simple and narrow minded either don’t procreate or do so in an environment where their children turn out better than their parents anyway. The arc is bending fast on this one, Amy. Faster every day. And all I can hope is that words like mine will help it bend just a tiny bit faster.

Even if, it won’t be fast enough for Leelah. And not fast enough for the thousands of other kids who are burdened with parents like you right now, today. Until the day comes when every person in this country, child or adult, is free to live and love the way they were born to without worry of people like you, Amy, I will NOT let your kind of bullshit roll off my back. I will NOT let it go. It’s evil. It hurts people. And it’s everything that is wrong with our world.

The Day

Today was The Day with Drew.

He was originally going to have a brief layover in town that only would have allowed an hour or so of getting to know each other in person time but then had a delayed flight that would have caused him to miss his connection so all of a sudden he was here overnight. The plan morphed into picking him up at the airport and spending some time together, though not too late, but then that new flight was similarly delayed. All of a sudden, the one hour visitation was potentially a lot more since his flight didn’t leave until the following afternoon.

I’ll admit, this was stressful to me. On the one hand, I didn’t want Belle to necessarily be aware of the The Day, as I’ve said before, since I didn’t want her to have to think too hard about it. I didn’t want it sitting out there. Before, The Day was in December. But now, it was now and she was aware and would be and I felt stress about that. She, though, showed none. Zero. I would go so far as to say she was bordering on encouraging. It wasn’t until last night when I was able to see her face to face that I was able to say how I felt as succinctly as I could. I never want to hurt her ever again. Not like I did. Not anything like it. And so much of my stress was that I would, inadvertently, do that. She assured me that she didn’t feel like she was going to be hurt. So that weight was lifted.

I was also stressed because Drew really wanted to see me and I wanted to finally see him and things kept shifting and I kept having to balance the desire to see him against my desire to be respectful and mindful of Belle. I didn’t want to disappoint him. So as things finally seemed to gel, I realized I could see him all morning today if I cancelled and moved some meetings. Me, being the boss, was able to do that and so I cleared my morning for him.

So, I’m not going to get into the sordid details here. Let’s just say today was, in fact, The Day.

As I’ve gone along in life, I figured out a while back that one of the main reasons I couldn’t be gay was because, once done having sex with a man, I didn’t want to be anywhere near him. I wanted to get as far away as possible. Super unfair to the other guy, obviously, and not a good way to build a relationship. I figured in the case of Drew (or whoever might have taken the bait on me in my condition), this wouldn’t be an issue because I’d never come. But, I realized after I dropped him at the airport, I felt a little taste of that old feeling. I am that guy gay’s seem to hate in bisexual men. Fuck and then gone.

I’ve told Drew this as I always want to be as honest as possible, but I don’t think it’s a real problem. The fact that he lives far away and won’t be in town really often means I can just leave when it’s over. And in the time he’s away, my interest in him can rebuild. It’s the perfect arrangement, I think. If he lived here, I don’t think my inherent assholish attitude toward men would allow me to be a very good partner in this scheme.

Also a funny thing, I didn’t feel this way until he came. Even with him, I have developed the tendency to feel certain aftereffects of orgasms I don’t have. It’s really weird.

The other thing I found interesting is, at some point, I realized I really wanted to be with Belle. Like, really. I craved her company. I do like Drew very much and had a swell time with him (which, as I said, we won’t be talking about here in detail), but Belle is the absolute love of my life and nothing is ever going to change that. I can’t wait to be with her tonight.

No matter where I am or what I’m doing, I always want it to end with me being back in her arms. Even on The Day.

A gentleman caller

Remember how, at the beginning of the year, Belle gave me permission to find a guy who’d fuck me? And how I immediately reached out to an ex-boyfriend in a rather insensitive way? And how that led me to create a CollarMe profile that’s been pretty much totally ignored by the whole world? Yeah, that.

Belle said something to the effect that I might engage in some kind of activity while she was gone on her trip and I was all like, “Yeah right, honey.” I even commented in my last post that since “no real men have raised their hands for the job [of fucking me] I’m left to my own devices.”

Funny thing.

After I wrote that, a guy who reached out to me on Tumblr said…

Saw your post on DT this morning lamenting the fact that no “real men” had stepped up for your ass pounding, I mean prostate milking and I said to myself, well, first you have to meet one who might be willing to help you out. Wink, wink 😉

And even I’m not so dense that the message didn’t finally connect.

So he and I went out on a little date Wednesday afternoon to a local establishment. Well, date, I dunno. Two people met in a bar-like environment so I guess that’s a date. I will admit to being very nervous. I haven’t been in this situation in, oh I don’t know, like twenty years? And the fact that this was such a specific meeting with such a specific assumed objective (eventually — I may be a slut but I’m not easy) was a new experience for me.

I delayed finishing this post because I was waiting to be able to talk to Belle about it before hand. Since this is the first time the possibility of taking advantage of her permission has presented itself, I want to make sure she’s OK and still feeling comfortable with everything before it goes too far too fast. I texted the basic situation to her and waited for the conversation to happen. Turns out, she was waiting to read my post before talking to me, so here we are.

His name, I don’t think will intrude too much on his privacy in saying, is Michael. A little older than me. Also a transplant to this part of the country, though for not nearly as long as I’ve been. He’s originally from the more genteel climes of the Southeastern United States. His relationship status is complicated, but he is married to a woman. He likes to call himself heteroflexible which is as good as anything, I suppose. He hasn’t been with another man in quite some time. In fact, I’ve probably had naked fun time with a guy since the last time he has.

He’s very nice and complimentary and flattering of me. I will admit to liking that. It’s been quite some time since I was pursued like that. Of course, since he’s a guy, I can see right through his routine. He’s is trying to get into my pants, after all. But still. It’s nice.

We have another appointment next week, also in the afternoon since that’s most convenient to me as a single parent and all. No idea what’s on the agenda, but I wasn’t born yesterday. I suppose we should be more clear about that of only for logistical reasons. And, of course and most importantly, this has to remain comfortable for Belle. She should know (and now she does since I’m writing this) that she can pull the cord on the entire thing if it’s too much for her. There will be no resentment from me. The last thing in the world I want is for her to be unhappy or in any way put off by what I do on the side.

Assuming I continue to get the green light, there’s also the question of how much I can share here. She originally said she didn’t want to hear about what I do but I have this blog and it’s where I like to tell all my dirty secrets. So could I do that? Or no? Again, I want to be crystal clear so as to avoid hurting her in the slightest.

So, to summarize. Nervous, excited, cautious. Among other things. We’ll see.

Penisthinking

As discussed previously, Belle’s given me permission to go find a boy willing to fuck me. Because I so, so badly, wish to be fucked and she doesn’t want to be the one to do it. On the one hand, this is very exciting and when I think about it and the fact that she’s willing to let me have this I only feel more affection towards her than usual (yes, it’s true, going outside your marriage for sex can make your marriage stronger). On the other hand, I’ve done nothing about it. Well, not nothing.

I reached out to an old boyfriend who doesn’t live near us. In fact, he’s way over on a coast, so not even close. In chatting with him about this new opportunity I have, I mentioned how, if it were possible, I’d be more than happy to have him do me (I have mentioned him in the past here — he has a wonderfully beautiful cock). In retrospect, this was a really stupid and thoughtless thing to do.

He was the guy I was with when I figured out that I wasn’t gay. It wasn’t that clean of a realization and it took several starts and stops to figure it out. He ended up getting by far the worst end of everything. I hold him in very high regard and feel genuine affection for him — he’s still a close friend. But he loved me. In a way I couldn’t return. Now he’s gone and had a life and married a guy (who’s OK with him getting some on the side) and has kids and the whole thing and all of a sudden I pop up out of the blue saying, “Hey! I can get fucked! Wanna fuck me!?”

I would have never done this with an ex-girlfriend. I realized that after the fact. Because with them, there would be problematic feelings, etc., due to the fact that I expressed love for them at one time and they for me and how that’s a whole minefield of emotional bombs. I feel love for this guy, too, but not, apparently, in the way that would make me aware of his potential feelings or that my proposal could be more hurtful than happy. In fact, I let the fucking penis do my thinking. A trait I share with many men, but for a guy who takes such pains to explain how he isn’t controlled by penis meat, it’s a surprising lapse. In any event, I’ve apologized for being such a total fucking cad. He didn’t take it personally.

Still, there are issues. For one, he’s a long ways away, like I said. Two, he’s gay and I would be a guy without, essentially, one of things gay guys really like — a penis. Also, and most problematically, he’s a bottom. When we were together, he got off on me being bigger (except in one department) and stronger and altogether more toppy than him. Definitely not who I am today and not something I could provide if I wanted. Add those things up and you have a formula that doesn’t easily resolve. Finally, in our text conversation about this, he called the device I wear a “contraption” and said he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. That’s fair, of course, but I admit it left me feeling highly self-conscious about myself. It’s like saying, “You’re awesome, but that third nipple kind of gives me the creeps.” So I don’t know about him.

Thing is, I was never really very good at finding dates. Back when most people do that I was all worked up about whether I wanted boys or girls and didn’t spend any time learning how to get either. Now I’m kind of this third thing. Also, I know for a fact I don’t want any kind of simple hook-ups. I’m not sure I can separate my submissive nature from sex. I don’t just want a live dick inside me, I want one belonging to someone I feel comfortable with. Someone I can sort of co-opt my submission to. That’s a bigger deal than just getting laid. Whoever this mystery man is, he has to be worthy.

And, of course, unattached or in a flexible situation and OK with no emotional prospects beyond whatever Belle lets me have and OK with a guy that doesn’t have an accessible penis. Also, in my total fantasy situation, this guy is actually a couple of committed guys. I don’t know why, but that’s appealing. Not a requirement, though. I assume this guy’s going to have to be either a dom or switch looking for a little piece on the side to top. They’re going to have to get off on my denial because I will always be that way with them. Starting to seem like a hard bill to fit, indeed. But what do I know?

So anyway, here I am. Permission to engage has been received but action beyond annoying an old friend has not been taken. I’m not even sure where to start.