They say a picture is worth a thousand words :-)
We accept the love we think we deserve.
Ah, Perks of Being a Wallflower, how your words run true. Why is it that so many people find themselves in relationships that destroy them? I know it’s never as simple as the above quote, but I really wonder why sometimes. And many of us let our hearts me imprinted with soot and poo in these destructive relationships. Even me, once (or twice. I know, right?!)
Is it truly a reflection of how we view ourselves from within?
My heart went through quite an arduous journey at the hands of a fool, once upon a time. What was meant to be a one night stand turned into a tumultuous 3 year affair. In the beginning it was all good, after the initial one night stand we ended up meeting again for another night of frivolity. Which then turned into fortnightly meet ups and then on a weekly basis.
We would never just do the sexy time and then see ya later. We would talk, eat, play games, watch movies together until the early morning. For full weekends. Night after night. Long story short, the FWB situation morphed into a relationship.
A relationship that wasn’t a relationship.
Even though everything about our interaction was what one would consider a couple, if I ever brought it up he would make some kind of excuse that we can’t be together because of his depression, or because of my depression. That we could be together “when we get fixed”. Which never made sense and pissed me off so much because WE WERE A FREAKIN COUPLE. I’m not going to list all the shit that validates that, just take my word for it yeah? Yeah.
Now, I know some people would say that “the label shouldn’t matter”, and I used to think that until I got into this situation. But it does matter. It does, as it is a symbol for what you mean to that person – without putting the label on it, it allowed him the freedom to do whatever the hell he wanted but still get the benefits of a relationship when he wanted it. Like not saying hi to my parents when he came over because he had no obligation to. That’s not a very fair set up.
He would say we are monogamous, but still not say we are together (how does that make sense?) Which I honestly got jack shit of, so did end up sleeping with some other people after staying monogamous to him for so long because I thought, FUCK IT, why should I not go for it? I never told him about that, because he made me think for the first two years that he was sleeping with other people. Then one night admitted to me he was monogamous to me the whole time! WTF? Why mindfuck me and lie and make out you’re fucking other people when you’re not? MAJOR COMMITMENT ISSUES. Which I couldn’t see at the time, but I guess my indiscretions are somewhat like a secret revenge.
I used to do a lot of shit sexually to please him, although it wasn’t what I was into. I wanted to make him happy. He would pull my hair and choke me, whisper disgusting fantasies about making me lick shit off his dick, and I would smile all the while crying inside because that isn’t my scene. I did this because I lost myself – I felt that is the only way I could be desired if I did as he wanted of me.
There were even times when I did dick things and dog some friends for the guy (which I totes wouldn’t do anymore, but at the time you get blinded by love or whatever crap). I feel really bad about that now, but at the time I was so worried not to go to him when he asked in case he wouldn’t want me anymore.
The whole thing mad me feel like I didn’t deserve to be loved. That he wouldn’t commit to me because I’m an awful, disgusting, terrible person.
It finally ended when I met my current partner (which kinda probably is a dick way of it all ending, but sometimes things just happen for a reason or whatever). The current boy was meant to be a one night stand (that Rambling Goat pushed me into, haha!), but again what was meant to be a one night turned into texting and talking. I didn’t anticipate that anything would come of it, but there was something special about this new guy (dammit, I thought). So after a NYE of pondering whether I go with A or B, I decided the new boy was where my heart was pulled towards. So, one night I met up with the guy, told him I found someone else, he cried and called me a whore (hello, we are not a couple as you have so vehemently made clear, so don’t call me a whore!, I thought). And I finally walked away.
Funny after I walked away, he called me and told me how he loved me, that we should be together, we would move out together and have a life together. I told him it’s not going to happen. Isn’t it funny, you always want what you can’t have?
I share this story not because I’m “obsessed with my ex” or whatever – NOOO that ship has sailed a long time ago! I share this tale of woe as I have noticed many stories around me of people allowing themselves to be in shitty relationships for shitty reasons. And it’s not cool.
They say everything can be solved in hindsight. I look back on those times now and think, “gosh, what was wrong with me? Why did I let myself go through that pain for so long?” Of course that’s easy to say now as naturally I am older, wiser, and have effectively learnt from my mistakes. But at the time, I did not view myself in the same light as I do now (and heck, still got a way to go – but don’t we all?) I didn’t have the respect for myself that I should have, as I let the relationship make me believe that I wasn’t good enough to be loved. Which is a crock of shit, yes I know now, but at the time it really beat me down.
And that’s how I got to where I am today. I am in a pretty awesome relationship now because after the fires of the past I grew the courage to stand up for what I wanted and deserved – and apparently confidence is appealing so I scored me a keeper. Boom.
All relationships have their problems and issues – heck, even this one has tried my patience on more than one occasion. But regardless of those times where we may get on each other’s nerves some things never change – and that’s our love, trust and respect for each other.
We all deserve to be loved, to be respected in the way that we want.
Don’t let anyone bring you down and never settle for less.
I’ve been chatting with 3 glorious fellow bloggers outside of WordPress and thought I’d grace you with some of the shit they now hear from me. This is literally the last 3 days direct quotes to one of them (but they’ve all heard it in various wording).
1. Alright, background story. Let’s be frank here and get it all out on the table. I was sending a dirty msg. Or a few. It was night, my lights were off and the only light in my room was from my tablet. Then I saw something move on my chin. Later on I sent this;
Its legs touched my mouth. I’m not joking in the slightest.
Anyway for the sake of your horniness, I jumped in the air, turned the light on, saw it had landed on the bedside table, took a photo, then continued.
And strangely I’m still horny but I think I sprained my stomach muscle and my heart is beating pretty fast.”
2. Later we had a conversation about the movie Fear and Loathing. It was pretty late so I tried to go to sleep.
I did a Snapchat and wrote on it “Can’t sleep. That spider gave me the heeby jeebies and now I think its in my bed. And I’m still horny. Fear and lusting!”
Then a message. “Just so you know, while doing that Snapchat, a moth flew up my nose. True story.”
3. “I’m perpetually unlucky. I was born on Friday the 13th and used to be a window cleaner which involved me walking under ladders most days. I’m not superstitious but my good friend once found three 4 leaf clovers in the same day at work, so I looked at looked and all I could find was some retarded deformed one. So I was like “Ha! Suck it! Try and find another one of THOSE!” He bends down and picks up a 5 leaf clover from next to my foot and hands it to me. So I fucking ate it. In conclusion, it didn’t work.”
4. “I’m trying to bleach a section of my hair with this spray stuff and its not working – it just makes fumes go in my face and make me more insane than normal.”
Some further info on that; Last time I tried to spray it all over my hair, but it also sprayed on my shoulders and started bleaching my skin, creating white dots. Yeah, you heard it right here, I went whiter, which to me means I’m semi-tanned :O now I just have to convince the sun of that fact.. Anyway, it said something about not getting it on your clothes, so I was in the bathroom just in my undies doing it. I guess I didn’t read the entire safety blurb because after my skin started bleaching, I read on the packet that it shouldn’t come into contact with skin. So I hop in the shower but I’m thinking ‘what about my scalp?!?!’.
5. “And also I’m now kicking it with the oldies cos I just used hemorrhoid cream. Which by the way, goes on a finger and into the bum. I’ve got no problems fingering my butt but my dad gave me the cream with a medical glove. I asked “what’s the glove for?!”. He explained. And another awkward convo was had in my life once again.. In conclusion, I didn’t use the glove.
If you’re asking yourself ‘ohhhh how’d ya get that?’, well the truth is I’m pretty sure it happened in a ‘let’s try anal again’ scenario months back. My butt got itchy and I thought I had worms so I took a tablet and thought it was over. But now there’s paaaain. So self diagnosis is back and I’m sure I’ve got an old man hemma. From straining at a dick that should not have entered my bum.
Life is just one big circus! It drains my energy maaannn. If a burgler busted into my house right now I wouldn’t be able to defend myself, but instead I’d tell him the sad tale of my life and he’d end up crying and giving me $50. Not dissimilar to George from Seinfeld trying to get that apartment when he was up against the pearl harbour survivor.
Oh damn, I wiped my mouth with my bum inserting finger.. Soap works right?!”
6. “I’m accepting of the fact that I’m a walking circus, with elephants standing on balls and monkeys riding bikes and then throwing their poop into the audience. Just don’t mention the clowns. Noooooopeeeeeee. Awww dammit. I just realised I have another phobia.
Fuck you clowns!! Show your face!
And why do they draw their lips so big?!?! Really. Its clearly not their lips.”
The response pointed out that clowns are lovable because they’re pathetic.
“Pffff I’m more pathetic than a clown and at least I show my face. Cos I’m proud of my patheticness!”
For the record, I don’t use my real name or show photos on WordPress to protect the anonymity of people mentioned. And on the off chance I somehow get famous (stop laughing, there’s a very slight chance that could happen..) Getting bombarded every time you leave the house sounds like an awful way to live. So there, nothing to do with my shame level.
I find it hilariously amusing sometimes to go into the stats and see the search terms that have led people to discover the joy of our blog.
The latest is as follows:
I don’t know if they found what they’re looking for here, but either way I hope they were pleased!
(Oh, I guess sorry to the peeps who thought this would be a devious post … Not today!)
Penis size is constantly being discussed. I’m not sure why, I honestly couldn’t care less what your size is. Actually, sorry no there’s an exception – if you’re huge, sorry but it’s not happening. I know my approximate limit and I’m not keen to go past that.
So there, guys are always worried if they’re too small, well I’m more worried if you’re too big. I’ve been with plenty of small guys. One I dated (Peter Pan in my ex post), was the only guy who has managed to fuck me and play with my clit at the same time (and wait till I came before he did). He was a genius with his hands. And it wasn’t a one off thing – he did it *every single time*. That kind of workout breeds laziness in women but it was goooood.
Two previous fwbs also had small weenies, but once again – they were great in bed. The only problem I had was that not all positions work (no up-against-the-wall sex :( ) but hey, it looks like they knew which ones did and they were fine!
So guys with small ones, don’t fear, I (and many other women) don’t have a problem. At least worst case scenario you can try out sleeves for a bit of added extra, but huge men can’t shrink their dick. It’s a straight up denial to them from my end, sorry! Seems they have a niche market.
So I guess some women want to know what size you are when you’re dressed, and to me its more of the mystery of the unknown than actually caring what the size is. Kind of like guys wanting to know what our tits look like. Or what our vagina tastes like ;)
There are even these silly myths to accompany that, but in my opinion most of them are wrong. For the men reading this, feel free to tell me if some are actually true, but I’m a little sceptical from my own encounters.
*A tall man has a huge dick – false. One of the fwbs I mentioned earlier was tall, and he had a small one.
*A man with small feet has a small dick – false. I had sex with a guy with the same size shoes as me (I have average size for a woman), and he didn’t have a small one!
*A man with small hands has a small dick – false. Another ex Mr Married has small hands for a guy (just a tiny bit bigger than mine) and he didn’t have a small one.
*Ok this next one I’m not sure of. If you fold your fingers down to your palm, take note of where your middle finger ends. Then open your hand back up. From that marked spot to the end of your middle finger is apparently your dick size. Seeing as how small hands are false I’m not a big believer in this but feel free to try it out guys and let me know.
*Thin guys have thin dicks and wider guys have a wider girth – hmmm. You know what, I don’t actually know. The Hulk has gained about 25kg since I first met him but I don’t think his dick size changed?! Feel free to report back on this one girls and guys!
I guess I might be called a party pooper for breaking some of these myths but ladies, instead of sipping cocktails and playing these ‘guess your dick size’ games in a group of giggling friends, play the ‘who can bed the first guy’ game. Its much more fun :D
Ps. Is there any vagina/tit myths?!
Footnote: I’ve just realised something that small dick men can do that average+ can’t – go in my bum bum. Yep anal is a no-go unless you have a smaller one. I’ve been scarred (probably literally) by average and above who think you can jump from finger to dick in 30 seconds. So boys, what you may think is bad luck has actually turned into good luck :)
This stupid wedding culture that exists pisses me off. I can’t stand listening, reading or watching people ramble on about the “perfect day” they deem worth of falling into perpetual debt for.
That life isn’t worth anything until you’ve met that milestone of being married.
Just so you can feel that 10 seconds of pride when you dangle that overpriced ring in the faces of your school mates at your reunion.
Here are some of the main things that make me loathe weddings.
“it’s HER special day
Women tend to think that a wedding is all about her. An excuse to be a “princess for a day”. Where anything goes because “it’s her special day”. It’s all about the bride.
She wants diamond encrusted napkins? Let her have it, it’s HER day.
Those silk chair covers that no one cares about cost $10K? Well, it’s HER day.
Honestly, it’s like these women can finally let their inner psycho bitch be free – but don’t worry it’s all about her so it’s okay if she gets all bridezilla.
What about the groom? Aren’t weddings meant to be about the union of two people and celebrating their commitment and love?
spending 50 billion dollars on one day
I never have and never will understand people spendin so much money on weddings. It’s wasteful, stupid, superficial and douchey. Why spend enough money to feed a small country for a year on a day for you to run yourself in everyone’s faces?
“But it’s the most important day of my life”. Well, if that’s the case then I feel bad for you son because you are setting yourself up for failure! I want to live my life trying to make every day better than the last, not put all my
Kittens in one basket and then exist in a puddle of regrets.
“But the memories!” Yeah, some of the best memories I have didn’t cost anything (or at the least the amount of a bottle of vodka), so again I feel sorry for you if you feel like you need to BUY the best memories of your life.
“But the photos need to be perfect!” iPhones take pretty awesome photos these days, and honestly people enjoy looking at the funny candid photos captured unknowingly by a friend than some douchey hipster wank close up of your hands, or looking longingly into the distance together under a coolabah tree. Who even does that in real life? If I want photos, I want hilarious ones that capture the awesomeness of reality, not some douche photographers “vision” of the “perfect wedding”.
expecting a shower of presents and money
So back in the day presents made sense because people would get married and THEN get a house together. Now, times have changed and most people live together already and have everything.
I refuse to buy off gift registries because they’re just a way for people to scam their loved ones for shit you don’t really need and can’t afford but want for your little superficial life. NOPE you get an oxfam goat or a handmade picture frame of that hilarious time.
the moral of the story
Too many people invest so much in this one day. How about investing in your whole life? Makes me wonder about the divorce rates and such in this world – maybe if people got their priorities straight it wouldn’t be so high.
I guess from this you would think I’m quite anti-marriage, aye? Well yes and no. I have never been your typical girl who has planned out her dream wedding – because I don’t have one and don’t desire a wedding to define my life.
However, if I felt I was with the right person then I would consider celebrating the sacrament of marriage to them to celebrate OUR relationship and commitment. (And so I can walk down the aisle to “I was made for loving you” by Kiss. I told the boy that and I think he thinks I’m joking but I’m totes not).
But it would be in a garden, with a jukebox, BBQ and lots of vodka so everyone can just party and enjoy themselves! And we would wake up the next morning thinking, “well that was a hectic party / how can we top that next weekend?”
Keep it real folks, many of life’s joys cannot be bought with a price tag
Look, people need to get over this daunting thing called age/getting older/growing up.
People feel pressure to do *x* by age *y* and its ridiculous. Yes, time exists. Do I care? Not really. And I’ll tell you why;
1. Based on our life expectancy, I’m going to go ahead and say that your 20’s are the new teens, 30’s are the new 20’s and 40’s are the new 30’s. You’ve just gained another 10 years so people need to *stop freaking out*. And actually thats a 10 year MINIMUM because I read recently that Gen Y’s are going to live on average to 120! Faaarrrrkkk! 93 years left to roam the earth! So we’re all gaining 10-40 years on current life expectancies (80’s). Mind. Blown.
3. There will always be people compatible for partnership. ‘Theres no one left’ is fucking bullshit. Scuse the french. Oh boo hoo, guys want younger women. Well guess what ladies, you’re a ‘younger woman’ to someone. Don’t give me that ‘but old men have brill cream in their hair’ look. There’s some mighty fine mature men around. Or get in touch with your inner cougar. Or be so awesome and enthralling that men your age wont be able to say no to you.
Men, don’t just dismiss women in your age range, you’ve got a nasty reputation for doing that. My 82 year old nan used to use RSVP and I asked her how it was going. “Oh good but all these men want younger women.. This guy is in his 90’s but it says here he’s only interested in women in their 70’s! When you’re my age it’s all the bloody same!” For the record she did chat to a few fellas and said “they’re only interested in sex!! They blatantly ask for it!”. Woah, it seems men’s libido (and brash pickup techniques) never dies.
Anyway, getting sidetracked.. My point is even at 82 you can go on rsvp to meet new people. So when you consider the young, the older, the unlucky in love, the divorced, the widowed and the polyamorous (gotta love the polys!), there’s plenty of ‘fresh meat’ out there. As soon as you freak out and act desperate, that sexy flock of birds has scattered and left a couple of shits on you. Sorry its almost 1am, my analogies are terrible hahaha.
4. Girls, you can still have kids in your 40’s. If you’ve got money, there’s IVF too. And if you’re a real lover of all children, go for adoption or foster care. Or you can freeze your eggs earlier on and use a surrogate later in life when you’re ready. Or just have kids before you have a partner. There’s plenty of options.
If you’re not into kids, cool, don’t bother. I hear in america there’s pet monkeys and as a comedian said recently “if you’ve got to the point of having a monkey, why not just have a kid? Its basically the same.” Well, its a good point but pets are pretty rad. So why not get a pet monkey? Or dog. Or cat. Or 30 cats. And yeah I can make the ‘crazy cat lady’ joke cos my aunty legit owned 20+ cats (probably still does). The house stunk. But she loved rescuing them so good for her.
5. You can still do whatever you want at whatever age. The other day I had a double chip sandwich (crisps and fries, with some tomato sauce) and it was miiiiiighty tasty. Don’t stick with stereotypes of how we ‘should act our age’. I do what a waaant.
Ok here’s my conclusion.
Age is just a stupid number that tells us how many times the world has gone around the sun while we’ve been here. Who the fuck cares? I personally think my interests and experiences are more important.