WARNING: XXX, 18+ CONTENT, PICS, IT’S A MASTURBATION BLOG… SERIOUSLY DON’T READ IT IF YOU DON’T WANNA KNOW
I’ve been touching myself since I was pre-school age.
I exposed myself in church every time people bowed their heads to pray. I was reported by my sister for ‘humping my doll’. My parents asked me about that one.
What can I say? It feels really good to touch myself.
This has gotten me into some situations that were awkward. First one being the doll humping report. Having a college roomie tell me she can tell so ‘could I keep it to when she is out of the room’. My ex’s mom told me to keep down once. Someone caught me on public transportation once. (Don’t judge me, it was a long ride on a vibrating bus)
But the thing is? I touch myself. I fall asleep that way. I wake up that way. I watch TV that way Hell, I have no panties on right now and I am touching myself between typing and editing.
Mostly I just use my fingers. Mostly clitoral orgasms. I don’t ‘finger’ myself very often even though I LOVE to be fingered. I also very rarely use a toy. Until I am single.
When I am getting sex on the regular? I stick to using my fingers for the three or four times a day I get myself off. When I am single though? I need something to ‘fill the hole’ left behind by not getting enough sex.
I’ve never been a fan of vibrators or dildos. I bought a toy to use when my ex was away and only used it once. Now that I am alone? It’s coming in very handy.
My fantasies have been taking hold and they are so dirty. They require being filled up.
Now that I am flying solo? It means taking the plastic plunge to get me off the way I really need!
I write my blog about my life. It’s about my situations, my perspectives on them. Sometimes it’s about my sexuality. Sometimes that means pictures.
Today is the first time I was told I was so wrong for sharing the sex part. It happened on Facebook, oddly.
I recognize Facebook has certain standards so I remove any pictures and I post copious amounts of warnings that those posts are XXX or NSFW (Not Safe For Work). I post the warnings in my blog and also in the post on Facebook or Twitter.
Imagine my surprise when someone I recently accepted as an online friend because of other personal connections decided to lambaste me on my own post. No pics. Many warnings. (she’s been blocked)
But, what, she’s illiterate?
Her comment said “This is so wrong. I can’t believe you would use Facebook to post your disgusting sex site. You are terrible and should be removed from the internet. You’re obscene.”
You betcha. I AM obscene. And you can think I am disgusting all you want. But can’t you read? There were multiple warnings not to read that post if you didn’t want to “read sick things about me you don’t want to know”. It’s the actual warning.
Obscene. Disgusting. Ugly. “OMG barf”…. Just a number of things I’ve read about myself today.
Still taking pics tonight. Because I’ll be as fucking vulgar and obscene as I want!
My husband and I live in a close community and where he is living now is not far from where I live. Since our messy break up I’ve spent the majority of my time at home, or at least in the park, so I could avoid running into him. Our email communication was rocky at best and I didn’t want to face him. We were communicating well the night of my healing ceremony so I simply asked him to avoid the area I was going and he respected it.
I’ve come to understand my anxiety about seeing him also meant I was avoiding things that could help me heal, like walks and sitting by the ocean to meditate.
He had been pushing me to have a face to face with him. Even though I didn’t quite feel ready I went ahead. That meeting itself went well. We went for lunch, at a local place, but after seeing each other communication fell apart again.
It’s a long process where we are still figuring everything out individually before we can consider being together again.
The advantage of taking that step of seeing him? I don’t need to feel anxious about an accidental run-in. We crossed the barrier and I am no longer afraid to go for walks outside the park where I live.
This picture? I walked down to visit the ocean for a few minutes today.
I like pictures! What I find most interesting is the pictures I love the most are the ones that, in real life, I look nothing like them. Everything I like about me is fake.
All that hair? Wig! Corset holding in all kinds of stuff and very padded push up bra. I look nothing like this but I love that for a split second a camera thought I did!
Also not really what I look like. This was when I lived in the forest clearing bush trails by hand. It was the most FIT I have ever been but that has fallen to the side. I still love this picture though. For a brief time I felt like I had some core strength!
Would you believe? I have not looked like this for 12 years but this is one of my faces. One thing I overcame like a champion!
This is the most recent picture I have. It looks most like me. It’ the woman I am growing to accept.