I always thought that good sex for me meant being in a monogamous committed relationship with the person I am in love with and want to spend the rest of my life with. I always wanted to date only 1 person, sleep with only 1 person, and grow old with that same person day-in and day-out.
The problem is that my first love did not feel that way about me. So that was the end of my fantasy. He didn't even tell me why we broke up, he just took off. It could have been that part of our relationship was long-distance and he was just sick of it. Nevertheless, after we broke up, I was celibate and single for a long long time and had zero interest in anyone else ever again.
When I decided to start-up again, I went to online dating because that was the only environment that would force me to have to be in a romantic context. Friends already commented on how emotionally unavailable I presented myself. I knew that in order to really let-go of the past, I would have to throw myself into something that I couldn't turn back from.
And so came KC-- the equivalent of a one-night-stand for me, although we probably hung out for a few weeks or so and slept over a few dozen times. KC will alway be a one-night stand for me because our "relationship" was undefined, non-monogamous, and not really a relationship. We slept together, and in the morning we went to work and did our own thing. A few days later, we'd do the same, and so on and so forth until one day, we just stopped. Well, who am I kidding? He just stopped calling and responding. And of course, I panicked, called a few times, and eventually realized that he really was nothing but a sleepover.
I think of KC these days because my experience with him is the anti-thesis to how I thought my sex life would be. KC and I went on 2 dates before we slept together, I didn't love him, I didn't fantasize anything about him, and I wasn't even sure if I found him attractive in any way just yet (he was very very short).
BUT he was the best sex I ever had, the first person to give me an orgasm ever, and the only person with whom I felt completely uninhibited. Sex with him was not me pleasing him. It wasn't me wrapping my love all around him, and it wasn't about meeting all of his needs and more. I didn't care to blow his mind, nor did I care if he would stick around in the future. Perhaps that's why it was so mind-blowing for ME! Perhaps it sounds like I used KC and maybe I did. I just wanted to sleep with one person randomly so that I could forget about my first-love and say to myself "Ha! I'm over you and since you've been gone, someone has definitely come to replace you!" KC was actually a stand-in and the sex could have been absolute shit so long as I can say "check!" and prove to myself and my friends that I was no longer reminiscing my first-love and living in the fantasy of what could have been.
Since KC, sex with anyone else has been mediocre. I wonder if that's because I haven't had casual sex ever since. In a relationship, my sex life has always been pretty crappy even though I always anticipate it to be absolutely amazing. In truth, it's not at all. It's about them and how they're feeling. Do they like what I'm doing? Do I look good at what I'm doing? Am I the best they've ever had? And are they.... oh, it's over. By the time I start to enjoy myself-- which is never-- the sex is long gone, and they are usually fast asleep having already enjoyed themselves at my expense!
Does this mean it's time to go back to casual sex for me? I just don't think I can do it again because KC was seriously a fluke. I still want the whole 1-person monogamous relationship thing. I still want to committed loving relationship PLUS amazing sex. But I can't help but wonder if my sex life will continue to be blah in future relationships. If so, what am I going to do!? Pretend they are total strangers and think only about me and what I want? I bet that would make the physical part much better.... but what about emotional? Isn't love-making inherently different from sex because it's focused on the other person?
Hmm. I have quite a lot to think about.
Enchanted forest
Fall decoration @ Bellagio Hotel, Las Vegas, October 2010
Monday, September 19, 2011
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Harmony
In the past few years, I have begun to realize how hard I work to strive for harmony in social situations.
Whether it is with family, with friends, with acquaintances, and even strangers, I work hard to maintain harmony amongst the group, and have often been the mediator in intense, unhappy, and conflict-ridden situations.
Such a good skill to have, isn't it?
Except that oftentimes, it's hard for me to be authentic or genuine when I should be upset. When someone wrongs me, attacks me, hurts me, I typically swallow my feelings and push them aside for the sake of harmony. I don't want conflict. I don't want to hurt another's feeling. I don't want discord, unhappiness, I don't want to create any ripples in the water. So I smile and push forward. Only afterwards, in the comfort of my own privacy, do I allow my suppressed feelings to slowly come out.
As an example, I was thoroughly insulted by an acquaintance over a lunch meeting we had two weeks ago. Under the guise of trying to "help me", she used herself as an example and began to say that she sees me as being similar to her and having the same weaknesses. First of all, this lady does not know me. So it was very unclear why she thought we were the same; much less why she thought she had all of the answers to fix me. I was furious the entire time, and I saw 2 potential scenarios that could happen:
1) Pound the table angrily and respond with the emotional intensity that I am feeling. AKA, it's OK to scream at her to say, "HOW DARE YOU? Who the heck do you think you are? You don't know me! Give me one instance of the accusation you are making. You can't, can you? Then shut the F up and don't go accusing people when you know nothing about them.
2) Nod politely. Let her go on, and allow whatever happens to happen. Say nothing, defend nothing, explain nothing. She's not worth it. But be respectful and be the bigger person. Part on good terms and make sure to never ever ever meet with her again.
In the end, I resorted more to scenario 2, although I devoted a great deal of time explaining myself to her (but why should I?) and using it as an educational tool to show her that it's better to ask people questions rather than accuse them based on her assumptions. I was VERY cool and VERY calm and I was VERY patient throughout. I actually went in the other direction and validated her for some of the questions she had even though deep down, I could not believe how rude, assumptive, and insulting she was. When we left the restaurant, I actually hugged her and said to her, "Aw, this was nice, we should do this again"-- even though that is the last interaction I want to have with her... ever.
So, why did I do that end up being SO nice to her? I've been thinking about it over the past week and it occurs to me that overcompensating for her rudeness is my way of maintaining some sort of control in our situation. I maintained harmony. I didn't hurt her feelings. And if I were a 3rd person observing our 2-person lunch, I would say that I intervened and became the mediator between my scenario #1 self and her.
I certainly pat myself on my back for remaining calm, civil, understanding and patient. I had told myself that it was a very good teaching opportunity, so as a teacher, I would say hurray! I succeeded. On the other hand, I failed too, I think. I was not genuine in expressing my feelings since I pushed down every single bit of my anger, frustration, and hurt. I tucked it waaay down and still, to this day, I don't know how I could have let it out in a healthy way.
Much like how it usually happens, I generally process afterwards. After I left the restaurant, I promptly climbed in my car and called two very dear friends and colleagues to tell them about what happened. They completely understood how pissed I felt and they were in utter shock about what was said to me. They were as livid as me and they were also offended for me. Hearing all that did the trick and afterewards, I felt better. I journaled too, but the dissolving my feelings came-- just like it always does-- when someone else understood me and validated me for the reaction I had.
So, now my feelings are processed and I am just fine. Next time I see this acquaintance, I'll continue to be civil, but I'll certainly avoid her. My lingering concern, however, is why I can't react in-the-moment and be my true, authentic, emotional self. In romantic relationships as well, I realize that even when B. was mean, and even after I caught him cheating or after fights that we would have, I would actually overcompensate and be super duper nice when deep down I should (and am) hurt, betrayed, and heartbroken. Why do I compensate then and experience feelings of intensified love when I should be nursing my own pain instead?
Is it for harmony? Whose harmony?
Whether it is with family, with friends, with acquaintances, and even strangers, I work hard to maintain harmony amongst the group, and have often been the mediator in intense, unhappy, and conflict-ridden situations.
Such a good skill to have, isn't it?
Except that oftentimes, it's hard for me to be authentic or genuine when I should be upset. When someone wrongs me, attacks me, hurts me, I typically swallow my feelings and push them aside for the sake of harmony. I don't want conflict. I don't want to hurt another's feeling. I don't want discord, unhappiness, I don't want to create any ripples in the water. So I smile and push forward. Only afterwards, in the comfort of my own privacy, do I allow my suppressed feelings to slowly come out.
As an example, I was thoroughly insulted by an acquaintance over a lunch meeting we had two weeks ago. Under the guise of trying to "help me", she used herself as an example and began to say that she sees me as being similar to her and having the same weaknesses. First of all, this lady does not know me. So it was very unclear why she thought we were the same; much less why she thought she had all of the answers to fix me. I was furious the entire time, and I saw 2 potential scenarios that could happen:
1) Pound the table angrily and respond with the emotional intensity that I am feeling. AKA, it's OK to scream at her to say, "HOW DARE YOU? Who the heck do you think you are? You don't know me! Give me one instance of the accusation you are making. You can't, can you? Then shut the F up and don't go accusing people when you know nothing about them.
2) Nod politely. Let her go on, and allow whatever happens to happen. Say nothing, defend nothing, explain nothing. She's not worth it. But be respectful and be the bigger person. Part on good terms and make sure to never ever ever meet with her again.
In the end, I resorted more to scenario 2, although I devoted a great deal of time explaining myself to her (but why should I?) and using it as an educational tool to show her that it's better to ask people questions rather than accuse them based on her assumptions. I was VERY cool and VERY calm and I was VERY patient throughout. I actually went in the other direction and validated her for some of the questions she had even though deep down, I could not believe how rude, assumptive, and insulting she was. When we left the restaurant, I actually hugged her and said to her, "Aw, this was nice, we should do this again"-- even though that is the last interaction I want to have with her... ever.
So, why did I do that end up being SO nice to her? I've been thinking about it over the past week and it occurs to me that overcompensating for her rudeness is my way of maintaining some sort of control in our situation. I maintained harmony. I didn't hurt her feelings. And if I were a 3rd person observing our 2-person lunch, I would say that I intervened and became the mediator between my scenario #1 self and her.
I certainly pat myself on my back for remaining calm, civil, understanding and patient. I had told myself that it was a very good teaching opportunity, so as a teacher, I would say hurray! I succeeded. On the other hand, I failed too, I think. I was not genuine in expressing my feelings since I pushed down every single bit of my anger, frustration, and hurt. I tucked it waaay down and still, to this day, I don't know how I could have let it out in a healthy way.
Much like how it usually happens, I generally process afterwards. After I left the restaurant, I promptly climbed in my car and called two very dear friends and colleagues to tell them about what happened. They completely understood how pissed I felt and they were in utter shock about what was said to me. They were as livid as me and they were also offended for me. Hearing all that did the trick and afterewards, I felt better. I journaled too, but the dissolving my feelings came-- just like it always does-- when someone else understood me and validated me for the reaction I had.
So, now my feelings are processed and I am just fine. Next time I see this acquaintance, I'll continue to be civil, but I'll certainly avoid her. My lingering concern, however, is why I can't react in-the-moment and be my true, authentic, emotional self. In romantic relationships as well, I realize that even when B. was mean, and even after I caught him cheating or after fights that we would have, I would actually overcompensate and be super duper nice when deep down I should (and am) hurt, betrayed, and heartbroken. Why do I compensate then and experience feelings of intensified love when I should be nursing my own pain instead?
Is it for harmony? Whose harmony?
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Hope.
Today I experienced hope for myself.
The downfalls of being a graduate student is being immersed in one tiny field and being exposed to only those who live, breathe, and study the same things as you do. It gets pretty boring and because most of my colleagues are older than me, married (and some with children), I also struggle to find much in common with them.
This semester, however, I am taking a course in a different program with an instructor who is not only an amazing teacher, but also a recent graduate and therefore close in age and perhaps even demographics as me. In any case, we talked for a while after class today, about his field, about my field, about what it's like to be a professor now, what the change is like, and about him being new to the city/state/community. As we talked, I slowly began to realize how cute he actually is. I liked how validating his responses were, how respectful he was in talking about different ways of thinking, and how he took the time to really think about what I was saying before he would come back with something to say.
But as soon as I realized that I was checking him out and weighing out whether I was attracted to him, I abruptly ended the conversation and backed away. It was weird to feel what I felt. It was scary to realize that I could be interested and excited about a new person again. And I suddenly felt naked, vulnerable, and embarrassed all at the same time.
As soon as I walked out of the building, though, I started smiling to myself-- involuntarily. The uncomfortableness must be a form of growth. I wasn't numb, at least. I'm not numb anymore. And whatever it was I feel embarrassed to feel, whether it is attraction or simply just looking at a good-looking person, that's improvement for me!
So, today something happened that was unplanned, spontaneous, and incredibly uncomfortable and unnerving. It made me realize that I am not dead inside after all.
Of course, I have no intention of pursuing anything with this young professor and if anything, I will simply be more excited to show up to class (on-time) and to continue to do well in school. Just the fact that I could have these feelings today are good enough for me.
I'll take it and I'll celebrate that.
The downfalls of being a graduate student is being immersed in one tiny field and being exposed to only those who live, breathe, and study the same things as you do. It gets pretty boring and because most of my colleagues are older than me, married (and some with children), I also struggle to find much in common with them.
This semester, however, I am taking a course in a different program with an instructor who is not only an amazing teacher, but also a recent graduate and therefore close in age and perhaps even demographics as me. In any case, we talked for a while after class today, about his field, about my field, about what it's like to be a professor now, what the change is like, and about him being new to the city/state/community. As we talked, I slowly began to realize how cute he actually is. I liked how validating his responses were, how respectful he was in talking about different ways of thinking, and how he took the time to really think about what I was saying before he would come back with something to say.
But as soon as I realized that I was checking him out and weighing out whether I was attracted to him, I abruptly ended the conversation and backed away. It was weird to feel what I felt. It was scary to realize that I could be interested and excited about a new person again. And I suddenly felt naked, vulnerable, and embarrassed all at the same time.
As soon as I walked out of the building, though, I started smiling to myself-- involuntarily. The uncomfortableness must be a form of growth. I wasn't numb, at least. I'm not numb anymore. And whatever it was I feel embarrassed to feel, whether it is attraction or simply just looking at a good-looking person, that's improvement for me!
So, today something happened that was unplanned, spontaneous, and incredibly uncomfortable and unnerving. It made me realize that I am not dead inside after all.
Of course, I have no intention of pursuing anything with this young professor and if anything, I will simply be more excited to show up to class (on-time) and to continue to do well in school. Just the fact that I could have these feelings today are good enough for me.
I'll take it and I'll celebrate that.
I am acknowledging where I am at.
Emotionally speaking, I am having more bad days than good.
Last night, I happened to listen to Beyonce's song, "Best Thing I Never Had" and I burst into tears. I'm not talking about tasteful, artistic, tears that make you think of elegance. My tears exploded and burst out and I started gasping for air before even realizing what was happening to me.
Mostly, what I've been feeling these days has been extreme dichotomy. At least once a day, I feel grateful to be alone, relieved that I am no longer in a relationship that drains me, and I feel freed from myself as well-- expectations I had for myself when I am in a relationship (no matter who he is).
And on those same exact days, I also can't help but feel a very visceral hole within me-- as though part of me is gone and I am either bleeding out little by little, or I am just very empty and very hollow.
Sometimes, I feel relief and grief at the same time.
Last night, I happened to listen to Beyonce's song, "Best Thing I Never Had" and I burst into tears. I'm not talking about tasteful, artistic, tears that make you think of elegance. My tears exploded and burst out and I started gasping for air before even realizing what was happening to me.
Mostly, what I've been feeling these days has been extreme dichotomy. At least once a day, I feel grateful to be alone, relieved that I am no longer in a relationship that drains me, and I feel freed from myself as well-- expectations I had for myself when I am in a relationship (no matter who he is).
And on those same exact days, I also can't help but feel a very visceral hole within me-- as though part of me is gone and I am either bleeding out little by little, or I am just very empty and very hollow.
Sometimes, I feel relief and grief at the same time.
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