It's really painful, but it's exquisitly poignant, too. I'm beginning to remember; I'm beginning to feel.
I've been shut down since after my daughter died. Had to, to survive.
Well, I guess I can't create radio, write, etc., if I don't reconnect.
I'm coming home, and it's scaring me to death.
The love process is expanding into every aspect of my consciousness. My core being is loving me open, even into the scary places.
I'm SO GLAD I'm not around people right now!
Someone is saying things to me, about my work. The descriptions, the adjectives, are double edged. I don't mean they're backhanded compliments. That, I could handle.
This is harder.
These words are the same one might use to describe an attractive woman. They're seductive.
I'll bet you a hundred dollars they aren't meant that way.
I'll bet it either comes from the craft of salespersonship, or it comes from an attempt to show respect.
But my womanhood is, against my best advice, wide awake and alert. She doesn't know we're fat, ugly, old and toothless now.
She just knows she likes being treated like a lady.
Well, I talk with her, on a regular basis, about the impossibility of her desires going anywhere.
I explain that people would be embarrassed to be seen with me in public and all that.
The heart wants what the heart wants, however.
So I'll have to have a very painful conversation with the person in question, explaining her joy and need to hear herself described in womanly terms.
I'll have to ask the person in question to check the implications of this descriptive language, before laying it on me.
I just wish I were not so decrepit, so confused, so weakened.
I guess I'm saying I wish I were "worthy."
I'm not, and I know it.
But coming from a more powerful place, I could let this go more easily.
It's been eight years, since my daughter died, since I've really wanted to love someone.
Oh, I've had plenty of sex, until my belly bloated and my teeth began to rot.
But love? Hell, no!
Now, here I am, craving. And seriously NEEDING, too! Not to mention, deserving.
And I'm having to protect myself from wanting too much.
It's torture. It really is.
Right there, right in front of me, where I can see, hear, smell and touch: it's right in front of me!
And I want it so much!
And I can't have it.
There's the thinnest membrane of self preservation, keeping me from reaching out and making a total ass of myself, destroying the last vestiges of my dignity, and totally ruining the rest of my life.
It is the most cruel, wicked temptation.
And I'm in a weakened condition.
Where I find the strength for some challenges, I can't explain.
But this!
I'm an incest survivor. I've made it through life as an eunich: sexless, a mascot, a side kick.
Until those MOST rare occasions when I've managed to connect with a love.
There's a scene in "Broadcast News," where Bill Hurt (news anchor) is seducing Holly Hunter (news producer). He says, and I paraphrase, "I've always wondered what it would be like to be inside all your energy."
Yeah, that's me.
When I'm intimate, I do not hold back. I emmerse myself in my companion. I dominate. I submit. I dance.
So, if my womanliness chooses someone, it's really a sacred honor.
That's what I'm feeling from her, now.
But she doesn't acknowledge how problematic the REST of me is. She doesn't care if I'm not attractive, successful, together, etc.
So the eunich must control the harem.
I hate this job. I just want to let her out to play.
But she'll kill me.
Or, at best, humiliate the hell out of me.
I've been wounded enough around sexuality.
And I have VERY high standards. I only want the very best people!
....people who can't see me as a woman, as a partner.
....people upon whose positions in the community depend on their public image.
I only fall in love with actors, professors, ministers, healers, organizers, artists, poets....
You get the picture.
I hope I can have the painful conversation without frightening my friend into withdrawl.
I hope the person can hear me say I choose not to act on my feelings. And that's why I want them respected.
Like I said, this sexual energy is healthy for some of my friendships.
And the sexual energy is the source of some of my best creative work.
I can't be truly good without partnering with it. But I need to reach some sort of compromise with it, without diminishing it in any harmful way.
So, here I am: wanting the most squeezable butt in town. Keeping my hands off. Afraid. Shy. Confused.
And add to that the stigma. Middle aged, fat, desperate, ugly, horny old woman. That's how I would be perceived.
My sexuality is too precious, too hard-won, too carefuly repaired and healed through literally decades of hard work. I won't let it be soiled like that.
I'd rather die, never touching another person out of love and passion, than experience that.
I have to keep from thinking I don't have a "right" to my feelings.
I'm NOT unworthy! I'm just not prepared. And I've had other priorities, like getting enough to eat. This didn't happen because I'm lazy. This happened because I can't do it all. I was forced to sacrifice my sexuality to more urgent matters.
There's another component to this problem, too.
I'm scared to death the person will think I've only been friendly in order to use the person for my own needs. It's not true. I've been checking out my motives as I've gone.
I sincerely value, respect and honor the person. I'm proud and humbled by the person's attention and kindness toward me.
The last component is: I don't want pity. It would be worse to be pitied than feared, or even laughed at. If I were pitied, it would mean I am seen as second class.
So, this could be a very painful conversation.
It'll take all the courage I have to do this.
But I sincerely believe it's necessary for my balance to do this.
If I keep pretending my sexuality isn't an issue, it'll build up pressure until something unhealthy happens. I'll spin out of control. I'll ruin a great opportunity.
....or, I could just email this post. Let the person take time with it or discard it immediately.
But I couldn't guage the response. I'd never know how it was received.
Maybe I don't WANT to know!
Oh, crap, it's hard...
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