Random Thoughts About Relationships and Sex

Once upon a time I’d decided not to write about sex on my blog, but those days are over. We need to talk more about this, folks! I need to, anyway. I have a lot of different issues going on: possible perimenopause (night sweats, yay), biological clock ticking (I didn’t even know that thing was on), a different form of birth control possibly messing with my hormones, antidepressants killing my sex life, and a boyfriend who I don’t seem to be compatible with in the bedroom—though once the antidepressants wear off, we’ll know for sure.

Here’s the rabbit hole I go down when life doesn’t work out the way I want: I spiral into a predicted future that (hopefully) won’t happen, in which I’m alone forever, eventually dying alone in a nursing home, no partner, family, or friends to speak of. Which is a lie because I have plenty of loved ones today.

Here’s the fantasy I play out when things seem to be working for me: I want whatever he wants, and that will make me happy. We can have a kid and I’ll have at least two people (or at least one) to love and be loved by, until death do us part.

I know what you’re thinking, or what I’d be thinking if I were in your shoes, provided your shoes are filled by someone whose life is going how they want today: I simply need to learn to love myself and focus on what I want.

I’ll tell you what I want: I want a partner. A friend and lover. And if it’s important for him to have a child, I’d consider it—especially if I felt strongly enough about the man, and knowing what I know about how my mom felt about my sisters and me, and knowing that I’m almost 42 now, I’d strongly consider it.

Mark has all the boxes checked: funny, fun, sweet, good-looking, smart, stable, caring, responsible. He’s a good lover in that he’s a giver. But I’m a giver too. Neither of us is used to being the taker, or the recipient—ie, the selfish lover who lays there while the other person does all the work. You’d think that would be a match made in heaven, but the truth is, the fun part is when the other person is enjoying it. Most men I’ve dated have been selfish yet grateful recipients, and I thought it would be nice to have a partner who wants to reciprocate, except Mark wants to do everything and for me to be enthusiastic without doing anything in return. Most women would love that, but I just can’t. And I can’t fake it.

I’m so down about this right now y’all it makes me want to not date for a long time, maybe forever. It makes me feel like I’m a bad lover, and maybe no one really liked me in bed that much. I wonder if there’s anyone out there who I’m compatible with. Maybe I’m going through perimenopause and won’t really be interested in sex again, and/or certainly not at the level I have been in the past few years. Which wouldn’t be a tragedy if I met a guy who didn’t care about that. But maybe that person doesn’t exist.

At the same time, I hate that I’m putting this all on me. My exes expressed lots of enthusiasm for our sex life, and this is a situation I haven’t encountered before. Not everyone will like the same things, and not everyone is compatible with each other. It has nothing to do with me or him being bad or good—it just is.

Still, it’s hard not to take it personally.

The important thing is to keep faith that someone is out there for me. I believe human beings are social animals and we’re meant to partner up, and I know there’s someone out there for me. Maybe I’ll learn that it’s Mark, once the antidepressants get out of my system, or maybe I’ll learn that sometimes you meet someone who seems just right, but they’re just not, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.

I pray that I stay positive, keep faith that life is unfolding for me just as it’s meant to, down a path that will be far better than I tried to plan.



Corn Grinding, Lady Gaga, Etc.

I’ve been exploring my feelings for Mark, which I think is a natural tendency. We (I) get into a new relationship and wonder where this is going. Is there a future together? What will that look like? Can this person give me what I want and need, and can I do that for them? Is this going to be a lot of extra work that I don’t have the energy or desire for, and how much extra work should a relationship be anyway?

I don’t have an answer for any of those questions, and I can’t predict the future, and it’s futile to try to figure it out today. All I can do is focus on how I feel today. And what I know today is that I like him a lot and I believe I could love him—he’s easy to love. But I also want to be loved, and to feel loved. It’s hard to know for sure if he feels that for me, especially since I freaked out after he told me I had bad breath and took all my stuff from his house and did not meet his mom that night as he’d wanted me to do. He hasn’t invited me over for Thanksgiving, presumably because it would be an awkward way to meet his family for the first time, though he had no problem introducing me–or planning to introduce–me to his mom, aunt, and nephew only a month into our relationship. But tbh I wouldn’t want to meet his family on Thanksgiving, nor did I want to meet them this soon. But I want him to want me too. Not exactly fair, I know. Just giving y’all the truth of how I feel.

He’s taken all kinds of other actions to indicate he loves me, or could love me: he wants me to stay at his house frequently, always asks when he can see me again, when I tell him something’s important to me he remembers and does it or doesn’t do it (mainly that I don’t like to be/feel ignored–I like a “good morning” text and a “good night” text), he listens to me for the most part. We make each other laugh, and he’s fun to be around. He’s a good person, and a good friend.

But there’s a bigger issue that has come up, which is the intimacy issue in which we both have different… styles, I guess you’d say. Different ways of doing, and his way is the typical guy way which I’d forgotten about because my ex was the only one I’d ever been with who’d been different. I don’t know how to be discreet about this whole thing but I’ll do my best. I realize that Lady Gaga for example “likes it rough” or so she says in at least one of her songs, so maybe y’all think we all love feeling like we’re getting pounded like a dead piece of meat, but nuh uh.

What I’m saying here guys is this: Basically, most—many? Only me?—of us women need external stimulation—like, at the same time—while most men want to bang us like a jackhammer. There’s a little thing called “grinding the corn,” my friends, also known as the CAT position, both of which I’d provide a link except I still haven’t found the perfect one, and y’all know how to use Google. Learn it! Take notes! Ask your wives or girlfriends if this sounds like something they’d like! And in case I’m the only woman in the world who thinks this position/technique should be taught to men from the get-go, then explore other positions or techniques and try them! Ask her what she likes. Watch videos. Read articles. For the love of all things holy, friggin learn. Because let me tell you something, gentlemen: if she’s having fun, you will have so much more fun.

And when I say “watch videos,” I do not mean porn created by men for men. What I mean is instructional videos with friggin step-by-step directions and illustrations.

Because honestly guys, the way I feel today is that if Mark cannot get with the program on this, I’m going to have to make a decision. Either stay with him and let him do it his way and pretend to enjoy it simply because I want a partner and a possible child because I’m 41 years old and time is running out (that’s obviously a whole nother blog post), or move on. I really like him a lot and do not want to move on. The idea of moving on makes me want to stay single forever, forget sex and all men, get my own tiny house and live on a piece of land with some goats and be a crazy goat lady. That’s where I go with that. Which is my crazy thinking, projecting into an imagined future that hasn’t happened and most likely won’t happen, and in which I get this idea that Mark is The Last Man on Earth, and if this doesn’t work, then eff them all, I’m through. Done.

I’m not saying he’s not aware of my external parts and doesn’t spend time down there, nor am I saying he’s a selfish lover because he’s just the opposite. A big part of the problem—if not, THE problem that I probably should’ve told you from the start, is that I’m taking Prozac and it’s causing a real problem with my sex life. And I just had an IUD removed in August and my hormones are all over the place. But I just got the nuva ring and I’m tapering off Prozac so we’ll see what happens.

I got on Prozac almost a year ago when I lost motivation for life after my mom died, and it has helped me tremendously. So much that I’m not ready to stop taking it because I didn’t realize how much better I could feel, and for now I’ll be trying something different until I’m ready to go without.

In the meantime I sent Mark some instructional videos that he seems to have watched but not learned the lesson yet. I can see now that I need to communicate better, ie, ask him if he’s watched the videos. I’m hoping we don’t give up on this relationship before the Prozac gets out of my system.

But mostly I hope that whatever is meant to happen happens and that I can be okay with whatever plan God has in store for me.

PS: I got to see Lady Gaga perform live for the American Music Awards live from DC last night, and then I got to watch her win and give a beautiful speech. I now love her more than ever.

The Bad Breath Incident, a ‘Healthy’ Heart and Lady Gaga

Turns out I do not have halitosis, for those of you who were worried, as I’m sure you were all waiting on the edge of your seats for this news. I know I certainly freaked out after Mark broke the news that my breath was not the freshest–which, by the way, happened to be right after I’d scarfed down half a bag of flavored pretzels (yep, I did that, says the girl who studies nutrition). Turns out my breath is no worse than any other human being’s, including Mark’s. His breath totally reeked the other night after dinner. And that was the second time that I noticed that, until I thought about it and realized I’d noticed it before too, before the whole Bad Breath Incident. Only I hadn’t told him before because I’m not the asshole who tells people–especially my new boyfriend—that his breath doesn’t smell so great. Oh, don’t y’all worry. I let him know, loud and clear, that his breath was not smelling good, at all. And now that whole situation has become a funny joke between us. Thank God for that.

By the way, my dad didn’t have to get stents put in his heart. It turns out he has blockage but doesn’t need stents, just needs to lose weight, exercise, and eat healthier, so we’ll see what happens. All I can say is that side of the family has amazing genes because I don’t know how someone lives his lifestyle (heavy drinking, no exercise) for decades and has what the doctor called a healthy heart for someone his age (or lifestyle) (he’s 70). My great grandmother lived to be 102, my grandmother is now 92 (but doesn’t look a day over 80), my great uncle was an alcoholic but lived to be in his 80s…

School’s out in a few weeks—hallelujahpraisethelordamen—and I’ll visit my family in North Carolina, then I’ll visit my family in Georgia, and then I’ll finally clear out the rest of my boxes I have stored in the basement. I’m hoping to get rid of most of my stuff. After you live in a bedroom for three years with limited space for your stuff, if you’re like me, you just want it gone. If I lived in my own townhouse, it would look empty. But as it is, I look like a borderline hoarder. Ah well. Life could be worse.

My therapist and I un-diagnosed Mark with OCD, after my observations that his life doesn’t seem to be disrupted due to this disorder he claims to have, and he left a spot of toothpaste in the sink (multiple times), he did not wipe down the table after we finished eating (God forbid), and at night he leaves his clothes on the floor by the bed. Otherwise he’s just a neat freak. Which is fine with me. I love how clean, neat, and organized his place is. Can he come over and do that to my house? Since my roommate and I are never home it looks like we just camp here every now and then, which I do now, actually. I’ve never had him over at my house because I don’t want him to see how messy and unorganized it is. LOL.

I want to write more but it’s my only day off and I have an assignment due for school today that I need to work on, and my room is a mess right now which is stressing me out. And I have to get it done asap because… (drum roll, please)… Guess who’s going to see Lady Gaga tonight? Ever since watching her documentary on Netflix, I LOVE her. And I love how she has a little belly in the halftime show, like me. Along with my (occasional–as in, rarely) bad breath, acne, and other gross bodily functions that human beings get because we’re friggin human.

Love yourself. If you meet someone else who doesn’t love you for you, they can go find someone else who’s perfect, and good luck to them on that quest. Which reminds me, my ex-boyfriend sent me an email the other day–just a forward of that article that’s circulating about the sheep who recognize human faces. And that, my friends, got a click directly to the trash pile. Like I said before, if he has something he wants to tell me, he can say it directly. I have moved on. Finally.

Peace and love,


My Most Embarrassing Post to Date

This morning it was a toss-up between “relaxing” (if you could call this relaxing) and writing for therapeutic purposes or cleaning my messy room with its piles of (clean) laundry, my half un-packed bag from staying at Mark’s, and way too many bottles of supplements, each one designed to “fix” me in one way or another. And don’t forget the books: textbooks, books that people have given me, self-help books, books on spirituality, and a stack of books that belonged to my mom, which I grabbed at the last minute just before I left her house the last time I visited my stepdad. It was one of those moments of I may never see this stuff again and I want to know everything she read. I just try not to think too much about how badly I want my own place where I have a laundry room to keep my laundry and a pantry for my supplements and some bookshelves for my books. Be grateful for what I have and not upset about what I don’t have. And my room is so cozy and warm, and it’s painted a beautiful grayish shade of lavender, known as Benjamin Moore piano concerto.

School will be out in a few weeks and I’ll have a long break to finally go through my boxes and get rid of what I don’t need or use, and I cannot wait. I am so looking forward to de-cluttering. Once I do, I hope to keep it that way. I’m going to have to tell people to stop buying me things on birthdays and Christmas. No more stuff!

I’m stressed out, in case you can’t tell.

School is out in a few weeks, and I’ve registered for next semester, and all of my classes are preparing for clinic. I do not feel ready for clinic. I can’t remember what I did yesterday. I’ve been just scraping by each semester. How am I going to work with clients? And if I can’t work with clients, I can’t take care of myself, and if I can’t take care of myself, I may as well work in a grocery store forever, living in the bedroom of someone’s townhouse with no personal space of my own, racking up more and more student loan and credit card debt.

As you can see, I’m spiraling out of control. Projecting into the future. Forgetting to live in the moment. What can I do today to work towards my goal? I have class later today, so I will study for my quiz, and I will talk to my professor after class about my schedule next semester. I hadn’t planned on taking the clinic classes yet, but all the other classes I wanted were full.

I have too many other distractions going on to focus on school. I often have to pass up social opportunities which make me feel like I’m missing out on life. For the past month I’ve been spending more time with Mark, who, by the way, is possibly an ex now.

And this is where I finally get to the embarrassing part, my most uncomfortable post yet.

Friday night after work I got to Mark’s house and I’m talking to him and he’s like what did you eat for lunch. I had binged on some flavored (Gluten free! Organic and non-GMO! Healthy!) pretzels I saw in the breakroom after several weeks of not eating any carbs except what’s in vegetables and Granny Smith apples, and I had not brushed my teeth before going over there, figuring I’d brush them when I got there. The pretzels had some sort of delicious seasoning on them, and were super unhealthy but I’ve been eating like a piece of spinach every day for a month now and I’m starving so I scarfed those things down like they were my last meal, and now my breath wasn’t smelling so great, which Mark informed me as gently as he could. And it turns out, in fact, this has been an ongoing problem for the entire month we’ve been together. Bad breath. Me. I have bad breath.

I had no idea.

No one has ever told me this before.

Then I remembered. There was that one time my ex told me, but at the time I had some weird dry sinus issue that resolved itself and he claimed it went away and I believed him. At the time I bought a tongue scraper and mouthwash and flossed more, but I didn’t keep doing the tongue scraping because he said it was gone and I felt like maybe that was overkill, and they’re always talking in school about how we as a culture overdo it with cleanliness so much so that we don’t have healthy microbiomes anymore and we’re resistant to antibiotics when really we need to just get dirty sometimes and let our immune systems build resistance to the antigens in our environments.

Well. Clearly that is the worst advice I’ve ever followed since apparently I’ve been walking around with rancid breath all this time and NO ONE has told me.

So I texted everyone close to me: Do I have bad breath?


Luckily that is the response I got from most people, including sisters, best friend, co-workers, who all said no way.

But then one co-worker said she’d noticed it once when we first started working together two years ago. Then Kevin said he’d noticed it before and assumed it’s just because I eat healthy. After I replied to him with shock and horror, he tried to reassure me that my perfume overpowers it, and it’s not all the time. That does help a little, but seriously? Who wants bad breath? Some people told me that everyone has bad breath at some point. Which is true. No one wakes up with pleasant breath. You can’t drink coffee and have the breath of roses. And I have been drinking a lot of coffee lately, which doesn’t help (and is just making my anxiety worse). I do eat a lot of garlicky kale nearly every day, so that’s not going to happen anymore, I promise you that. I have taken fish oil supplements here and there but not every day, especially since one day they made my stomach hurt so bad I thought I’d have to get my gallbladder removed. So that’s definitely out now. Which means I have digestive problems, btw. Which I already knew. Which Mark suggested may be the reason for the bad breath (so the cat was out of the bag on that one too—Surprise! I have digestive problems! Isn’t that sexy?). I had some hyaluronic acid mints but they had sorbitol in them which cause bloating so those are out. I had been eating a lot of (sustainably caught) tuna, and that’s definitely out too. Sorry but I am just going to have to get my omega-3’s some other way. Flax seeds.

I brush my teeth at least three times a day and I floss each night but I use all natural products made with tea tree oil, mint, cinnamon, and clove. Mark doesn’t believe in these products and prefers what I think of as carcinogenic products like Listerine and Crest. But you better believe my ass went out and bought some Listerine, another tongue scraper (can’t find the old one), some cinnamon toothpicks, some chlorophyll (an internal cleanser, also acts as an internal deodorant), mint floss, and yes, folks, I will probably get some Crest. I’ve been using various toothpastes from Nature’s Gate to Dr. Bronner’s and honestly my teeth don’t feel as clean afterwards. Oh, and I am overdue for a teeth cleaning, so that appointment will be made Monday.

Before we met in person we asked each other what the other’s deal breakers were, and one of Mark’s was bad breath. I remembered that, and I remember thinking what an odd thing to say, of course that’s gross, and not something I have to worry about, and not something I’d think of because I’m thinking more along the lines of bipolar disorder (based on previous experience in case you’re new to this blog) or grudge holders. Never did I think I had better step up my dental hygiene because I thought mine was already better than most, along with all my other personal hygiene habits. I have more kinds of specialized soaps and lotions for all the various body parts than anyone else I know.

That happened Friday night before bed. Saturday I was supposed to meet his family. I’ve been dating this guy for a month. It seemed too soon to meet his family but I’d decided I would do it because I thought it was cool he wanted me to meet them, and what could it hurt. Meeting them would not change whether or not we stay together so why not.

But after the Bad Breath Incident I thought, How the hell am I going to meet his family? What if they think I have bad breath too? Does his mom also have OCD with germs? Because he has that (diagnosed), and that may be why he finds my breath bad, because I went to work the next day and had my co-workers smell my breath to which they said it smelled like nothing.

I did not feel confident. Or attractive. I felt like who will ever want someone with bad breath? I remembered he’d said it was a deal breaker, so the next morning I decided to gather all my things I’d left at his house and just go home. This is clearly over, and I don’t see how he’d want to be with me, he’d already said it was a deal breaker in the beginning, and what if he never thinks it’s good? What if I really have bad breath and cannot resolve it?

I spiraled out of control yesterday, thinking I may as well become a crazy cat lady now, especially what with the night sweats that I’ve also been experiencing for quite some time now, which has to be perimenopause because I don’t know why else that would happen. Except I’ll be a goat lady instead, which is perfect because that can just add to my pleasant smell.

When he woke up and saw that I’d packed all my stuff, I told him, Listen I should just go. And he was like, Okay. And that was it.

On my way home he called me: What’s going on?

I don’t see how this can work; you’d said that’s a deal breaker.

That was before I’d met you. Clearly there’s more going on.

I don’t feel attractive. I don’t know how I can meet your family. I had no idea I had this problem.

You’re trying to punish me.

I’m trying to protect myself.

Well I gave this a chance. You’ve made up your mind.

I don’t want to break up. I just think things are moving too fast.

Well you decided to leave. You made up your mind.

I’m telling you now that I haven’t.

That is the gist of it though more words were used, but then we got cut off, and I tried calling back but he didn’t answer. I left a message that I’d like to work through it but he didn’t answer. When I got home I saw that he’d unfriended me from Facebook. I talked to my sponsor who told me I overreacted and owed him an amends, that he’d made himself vulnerable and had been honest with me, and I had punished him for it, when in reality that’s what I want from a relationship: for someone to be honest and vulnerable with. I agreed and called him back and he still didn’t answer so I left a voice mail making my amends in which I admitted my wrongdoing, asked how I could make it right, voiced that I could see how he felt that it was punishment (though between you and me I did not intend that at all), that I want the kind of relationship in which we can be open and honest with each other, and I don’t want to be the kind of partner who just leaves like that, that I’d still like to meet his family.

A couple hours later he sent me a text saying, You meeting my family is not going to happen.

Did you listen to my voice mail?


I was wrong and I’m sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?

No reply for hours, and then finally: I need to think about things.

I understand. Thank you.

Maybe I should go back to CODA?

This is supposedly the right thing to do, but it feels like groveling, and I have PTSD from my ex, and how he’d hold grudges for the entire relationship, storing them for a rainy day, to spring something on me out of nowhere about how I’d done something wrong that I had no idea about. It’s enough to make me want to run, to be single forever, to get my tiny house and go live on my friend’s property.

So that’s where that is, my friends.

I don’t know if it’s just because I’m an alcoholic, but relationships feel so impossible to me at times. One of the things they tell us in AA is that we have an inability to form a true partnership with another person until we can live our lives in a more spiritual manner. My sponsor told me what I did was out of self-centered fear, which is true. For some of us, when we’ve lived our life being/feeling abandoned by everyone at some time or another, sometimes we become a rolling stone. And that is exactly what I’ve become: a rolling stone. After my ex I almost don’t care anymore.



Love in a Time of Mass Shootings

Before I get into my exciting love affair with Mark, I’d be doing a disservice if I didn’t pass along info I found about protecting yourself during a mass shooting. When I was little we had tornado drills, and when my parents were kids they had Civil Defense drills  because everyone thought there would be a nuclear war with the Soviet Union, which we were still afraid of when I was a little kid in the 80s. There’s so much violence and fear in our society today, I’m honestly afraid to go to any large public gathering, which is okay because I don’t like big crowds, but people can’t even send their kids to school, go to concerts, or go to church without fear of being mowed down by some psycho gunman. These are times we need a higher power, which I call God, the most.

It feels weird to follow that up with what’s going on in my little life but that’s what I’m going to do. I’m an everyday American having an everyday life, so far without any mass shootings in my personal experience, thank God. I’ll have to make this a short post because I need to get ready for work, so I’ll get right to the point: I’ve fallen for Mark, he’s my boyfriend now, and I see a future with him. It’s unwise to project too far into the future but I’d be lying if I didn’t say in my mind I’ve already married him and had his babies. That’s just what infatuation does to us; it’s human.

Here’s the thing about Mark: he’s incredibly sweet, he makes time for his friends and family, he loves his life, he likes his job, and he treats me well. Because I don’t just want someone who treats me well, which is a given, but I want someone who has their own life, and appreciates what they have. I just like him. He’s adorable, in whatever way a gigantic, six foot six man can be adorable. He’s honest about what he thinks and feels. When I think about him, I just want to hug him. And kiss him and make passionate love to him. In short, I’m done y’all.

So it’s time to find a new routine, and look for Zumba classes near his house (as if I didn’t already do that weeks ago) and AA meetings near him that I can go to in order to stay on top of my sobriety/spiritual life/social life. Because that’s what AA does for me: provides me with a spiritual way of life that keeps me on track, and I make friends there. One thing I’ve learned about myself is just how important having a social life is to me, so much that I may be one of those extroverted introverts, when I thought for years I was strictly an introvert. My friends mean the world to me, and I don’t feel that I get to see them enough. If I have a week in which I don’t get to talk to them, I feel lonely and sad. It makes me realize that when I was growing up, in my teenage years, I bet I’d have been a lot happier if I’d had more friends rather than isolating myself and getting caught up in drugs and alcohol. These are the kinds of things that make me worry for my niece and nephew for example. Mostly my nephew because my niece is a social butterfly. They’re 12 years old now (twins), and I feel nervous knowing they’ll be teenagers soon, dealing with all the effed up shit the world throws at you when you’re a teenager. Maybe I’m projecting my own effed up teenage years onto them, but at the same time, now they have the added pressure of social media and fear of mass shootings and a mentally ill narcissist for a president… Anyway, more on that later for another blog post.

At first I was stressed, worrying about how I’d balance everything and Mark too, but now I’m seeing it more easily. He helped me study for my quiz (which I made a 100 on—first and only time that’s happened so far), and he actually enjoys helping me study. He loves trivia and he likes reading my handouts that I have to make for class, handouts that we’d make for a potential client on what nutrients and lifestyle factors they should take into account based on their life stage. Mark loves being healthy, and although his idea of being healthy is different from mine, eg, he follows the conventional/popular way of eating, he’s interested and open to learning more. He seems to listen to what I have to say and he’s not a know-it-all about everything. Not that I push my dietary or lifestyle beliefs on him or anyone else—people will do what they want to do when they want to do it, but it’s nice when someone asks or is interested and willing to make changes for the better. It’s nice when someone respects what you have to say. I try not to make comparisons to my ex, but I think it’s probably only natural. What I realize more and more is what an asshole he was to me at times, and how I didn’t even fully realize it. Yes, he was also very sweet to me, and great when times were good, but when times were bad, they were the worst. Time will tell what will happen when I have conflict with Mark. That will be the real acid test.

Time to get ready for work and hopefully I’ll make it to meditation tonight given all the homework I have to do, and I work late tomorrow and Friday. I want to send some prayers up for my friend whose dad just had a massive heart attack and sounds like he may not survive, and for my friend’s aunt who got diagnosed with cancer recently. And for the loved ones of those who died in the most recent mass shooting that seems to be everyday news now. I’ll leave you with this beautiful talk from Tara Brach, the meditation teacher I like to see on Wednesdays here in the DC/Maryland area.