Sunday, July 23, 2017

Goddesses & Monsters

Michael and I were spending some time with a dear friend of ours this morning. She recently ended a long term relationship and was sharing some of the details about their time together.
It's not often that I actually get so enraged that I'm seeing through a haze of red fury, but I was today. There is an issue, something that just crawls right under my skin and makes me want to scream literal bloody murder. When it comes right down to it, it's what's behind the point of this entire blog. It's the reason I share myself, my sexual self, so blatantly, so openly, for the world to see. I've touched on it many times in the past, and have probably written a post about it at least once before, but I believe it's worth revisiting.

It involves our society as a whole, but I'm going to be focusing on men for right now. Don't get me wrong... women do this, too, and that's a whole nother spectrum of the issue.

Stupid, impotent, tiny-dicked, tiny-brained, insecure, vile men who... GAH... it's even hard to put into words, you guys! Men who shame women for their sexuality. Men who do their very best to get inside a woman's brain and make her feel wrong, dirty, about her sexual urges. About her need for sex, to enjoy sex.

Because women aren't supposed to enjoy sex, right? Right? A woman who enjoys sex is a whore. A slut, a floozy. She's cheap. There is something wrong with her. A woman is supposed to just lie there and take it from a man... He's an animal, after all. He can't control his urges. They're natural for a man.

But women? Oh no, our clit is their purely for decoration, right? That is, if you can even find it, amirite?
The female orgasm is nothing but a myth! These women... these tarts that allegedly enjoy sex... it's just some sort of Daddy issues, right? She's lowering herself to pretend to like being sexual. She needs help, therapy, counseling.


Seriously. Fuck you. You stupid, ignorant, repugnant, slimy shit-stain.

I dated one of you, mercifully briefly. Partnered you for a minute, even. Even looking back on it now, seeing the obvious signs of what he was doing, he almost got inside my head with it. Almost. He pushed his... moral agenda... too far, too fast, and I had a glimmer of clarity and walked away without looking back. Did he outright call me a whore? No... he was more insidious with his venom. He'd say things like, "You really should have been choosier." Mind you, he had a whole host of other issues, like getting off on watching me with other men yet thinking I was filthy for doing it and that I should go to church.

I know, right?
I escaped. A lot of really incredible, amazing women aren't so lucky. This incredible woman we spent the morning with. She had three years of a man who shamed her for wanting to be intimate with him, and being rebuffed by him and made to feel dirty because she needed it. She's... god, you guys, she's amazing. Intelligent, funny, sensual, stunning, strong... and this imbecile did everything in his power to tear her down. That fucking monster.

It is everything in my power not to track him down and put my stiletto-clad foot up his ass sideways.

How dare he? How fucking dare he? To do that to anyone, much less the woman he was supposed to love, the woman who loved him... god! She gave herself to him, and he threw it back at her in the ugliest of ways time and time again.
And let's not forget the line of every single abuser ever... "You made me do it." It's all her fault, you know? His inability to perform his manly duties... all her fault.

BULLSHIT. Bull-fucking-shit.

Guys, let me tell you something... Women ARE supposed to enjoy sex. We have a clitoris and thousands of nerve-endings that just light up like fucking Christmas trees when they're correctly manipulated. More than that, we have fucking brains, and we fucking use them and we get aroused beyond the telling of it and we have Earth-shattering, ear-splitting, back-clawing, blistering, wet orgasms. Better still? We can have as many as we fucking want. Take your refractory period and shove it up your urethra... We don't need it. You think that's a fucking accident of evolution? A mistake of God's, if that's how you chose to believe? Our ability to reach the precipice and fall over again and again and again while you're still lying there curled up in a little heap, with your empty balls, and your "babe, I need to rest..."? That's no fucking accident. That's the universe telling you that women are better fucking equipped at sex than you are.

Maybe that's it. Maybe it's jealously. Some men simply haven't evolved beyond caveman-like grunts and ass-scratching and can't move beyond the false idea that men are sexually superior to women.
The Very Definition of a Man
Thankfully, most have. See the man in these photos? That's Michael Stewart. Michael fucking Stewart. THAT is a man who utterly revels in my sexuality, just basks in it. He beams with pride at the way I express myself, the way I let myself just... drown... in our arousal. He might tie me up, beat my ass until it's black and blue, and squeeze my throat until I can't breath... because he knows that's one of the many, many keys to unleashing the... whore... inside me. He owns me. Not through force. Not through abuse. Not through demanding it. He owns me because I let him. I gave myself to him, my soul, my love, my sexuality... my complete trust because I know he treasures it. He would never try to tamp that down. He would never try to make me feel dirty or wrong because of my urges, my needs. A dominant? Yes, absolutely. In the truest sense of what that means. An abusive asshole? Not even close. A staunch feminist. A champion of women.

He's not intimidated by my sexuality. He fucking owns it.
And that's what a man is. Ladies, never, ever settle for less than that. Never. The first moment you see the signs... fucking run. Just turn tail and run like you've never run before. Don't look back. Slam that door and nail it shut. Block him. Inworld and out. Because he will try to get you back. He will realize how badly he's fucked up... but he won't change. He won't. He'll make pretty apologies and shower you in gifts and praise... but it won't be long before he's back to slipping in those little insults. The ones that make you question yourself.

Don't give him that power over you. Just don't. Heed this warning... listen to the words of women who have been there. These men are broken inside, but they will never recognize that. They will never admit to their deficiencies, their weaknesses. It will always be "you made me do this" or "if you hadn't done such-and-such"...
It is not your fault.

It. Is. Not. Your. Fault.


I know it's not easy. I know it's hard to stand alone, to turn your backs, to not have that special someone who is all yours. I know. I do.

But please, please trust me on this... You are better alone. You are better without him.

And one day, when YOU are ready, you're going to meet someone and he will love you for everything you are. He will be proud of you, will want you walking beside him, will absolutely cherish every single thing you are. Your flaws, your weaknesses, as well as your strengths... and your urges, kinky, vanilla and everything in between. Your intelligence will be his aphrodisiac and he won't be able to keep his hands off you. And you'll glow with it, just as I am right now.

The wait is worth it. I promise. I promise.
And if you ever need a woman to talk to, I'm right here. Just ping me, anytime. I may not be available right away, but I will get with you. A friend to talk to, a shoulder to cry on, a punching bag, a sounding board. You're not alone. You are never alone.

And never, ever forget... YOU are a fucking goddess.

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