I’ve seen a few people around the fat web lately asking for more single/dating voices out here in the blog-o-sphere. While I do not date, I am in fact married, I do so sympathize! You see, yesterday I had a strange thing happen. I popped online to check my email (on a Sunday even, Ack!) and someone wanted to chat on yahoo IM. I recognized this person as someone I follow on Tumblr. I’ll admit up front here that I used to have a tiny web crush on him. He’s sort of adorable. Only he totally fucking ruined that yesterday.

When I was dating, I had a terrible time meeting guys. At the time I didn’t think it was purely due to my size, but I had a lot going on after just coming out of that awful relationship. I met a lot of guys online, on AOL chat rooms to be specific, and went on way too many blind dates because of this. I remember one blind date, I went to the guy’s place (I know, so what not to do 101) and when he opened the door he said, “Well, you’re more “full figured” than I had though.” and I said, “Yeah, um, you’re much smaller than I thought.” Which I know sounds awful, but we ended up being fab friends until we both found permanent partners. Truth is we were swell on the phone. Yet in person there simply was no chemistry or physical attraction.

Yes, I described myself as “Full Figured” online back then because no one ever told me it was okay to be or call myself fat. Would have made things easier, no doubt. And it seemed the more dates I went on the more horror stories I gathered. Yeah, didn’t meet a single decent one…well, I did, but then my best friend TOTALLY stole him (glaring at you Steph! Ha-ha!). I see now that it wasn’t such a loss, but I was devastated! I even tried to hook up with his best friend just so we could have double date scenarios available. I went through this phase after that where I thought I wanted bear-types. Like, just big burly guys who would, I thought, protect me. I found out in fact that most needed more protection and emotional support from me. Go figure.

And being a fat girl in the dating world can lead to many assuming stereotypes are true. I had guys ask me if it’s true that fat girls are faster to sleep with someone or if redheads are truly demons in the sack (we are! he-he), all kinds of stupid-ass stuff. It wasn’t so much that I was looking for a good time or a quick lay (I really should have been), but I was still in love with the idea of love. I was so enamored with finding a perfect somebody that I forgot to find out who I was first. The moment I began to work on myself? I met my husband. We were friend first, which I’d never dated a friend before him, but it worked out nicely I think. Ha-ha!

So this guy yesterday? From tumblr? Yeah, he wanted to “chat” alright. He said he had a “fetish for chatting on web-cam” and could I go to his personal site (which was called something like sexy stranger cam or something equally horrific in my opinion) so no one would record or interrupt us. I was all like sorry dude, I don’t have a web cam that works at the moment (I bought one for $3 on amazon, but it’s a pain to use and is always leaning to one side). But he kept insisting and then said, “Lame! No wonder you’re single!” and I responded with, “I’m married.” and he then said, “Oh I don’t mind baby, let’s go over to my web cam site. I swear it’s safe. You just have to verify that you’re over 18.” To which I responded with *Barfs* which somehow didn’t give a clear enough signal to this douche. He kept at it, trying to get me to go to this site for another five minutes before I finally just closed the chat. He is no longer adorable.

If this is the shit you have to put up with in the online dating scene? Count me out forever! I meet way more people in real life that are truly into me then I have online. I mean, it is awesome that we can get to know people and begin to build relationships on the internet and all. But the two-faced pervo shit? Yeah, that needs to go! I demand respect when I meet people, no matter what type of relationship I’m looking for. Respect, honesty, intelligence and best of a decent conversation. Not too much to ask, right? Ha-ha! It seems that it is. This clown shoe didn’t have the decency to even ask my name. I know he has an actual girlfriend and had he wanted to just chat I would have  been fine with it. But his perv-cam-bullshit? No, thank you.

And so a tip of my hat to all of you single folks out there trying to get to know anyone in this crazy world right now. It’s bananas. I don’t know how you do it. And if you’re seeking advice on how to find love? Sounds cliche, but stop looking! Just do what feels good, you enjoy or makes you happy and there will inevitably be someone around doing those same things, too. I find that people are more genuine and put on less airs when they are just doing a hobby or pursuing an interest over the typical bar/nightclub thing. Although, that works and is totes fun sometimes, too!

I’d love your thoughts and input. Wanna vent about dating? Hit up my comments! Let us all share in this! Thanks! =0)

(To the tune of Lady Gaga’s “Boys Boys Boys”)

This TMI Tuesday post is all about Sex Toys! If this doesn’t interest you, you’d rather not know about my sex life or toy preference, or you’re at work and don’t wanna get in trouble, do come back tomorrow for your regularly scheduled random fatty talk right here on my blog-a-ma-thing. Thanks!

******

*************

****************

**********************

****************

*************

******

On my recent visit to Good Vibrations for that fabulously fun Burlesque class a couple of weeks ago (oh how time flies!) I picked up a toy I’d been looking at online.  I loved the color and the feel of the outside of it and the length seemed fab, too! But then, like so many toys, it left me unimpressed and generally dissatisfied. I know, for $22 what do I expect?! Well, I expected something! Perhaps I had high expectations, but that $22 is hard won for me (more than a week’s worth of work/tips) and so I always have high hopes when spending my dough.

See? It’s perty!

The last toy I purchase was the Butterfly Kiss and while I have enjoyed it a couple of times, it’s length is problematic (the butterfly doesn’t actually do anything for my clit as it either doesn’t reach or is so weak as to be meaningless). I do appreciate the design of it though. And again, the price was great at $18.

Mine’s the pink one.

So compact yet powerful!

Yes, even you!

Last night my good friend Carmen and I headed up to San Francisco to attend a free burlesque workshop at Good Vibrations. I was fortunate enough to have met and been invited to the workshop by the instructor and incredibly fabulous lady, Virgie Tovar. She is such a sweetheart and bad ass, simultaneously! You just don’t even know! Ha-ha! But I was excited about learning some new moves and in such a welcoming and comfortable and accepting environment (a rare thing indeed).

If you’ve never been to a Good Vibrations location, you’re in for such a treat! Imagine a sex toy shop, but set up like a fancy boutique! And the employees were all so calm and nice and just welcoming. Everything you could hope for in a sex toy shop! What I loved most about Good Vibrations is that they had demo/display models of every toy they carried! You could actually pick them up, touch and feel, turn them on (hello! So you know how powerful a vibe is–whoa!) and see what they can do! This was fabulous for me because I just never know what I want or like or whatever. Carmen was instantly attracted to the high-end stuff (go figure) because of the colors and design of their toys. Gorgeous, no lie, but $150? No dice!

We filed into the back room while Virgie set up for the class. It seemed more and more people kept coming in an almost endless stream. Finally everyone arrived and was seated and Virgie started the class. And she was just so friendly and cool and like that awesome older sister that girl had in high school? The one in college when y’all were sophomores? Yeah, the reeeeeeeeeeally cool one! That’s Virgie! She started by having up loosen up and just getting ready to move our stuff and shake our money makers (my words, not hers). Then she put on the music and showed us, very patiently, some burlesque moves.

She began with the classic and essential (in my opinion) shimmy! Anyone with a rack of doom can certainly pull this one off without a hitch. It’s a pretty simple move of just really shaking your shoulders so that your chest gets a good jiggling! Then we were instructed on “the bump” which is taking your hips and bumping them out on each side. As though you’re knocking something out of your way with your hips, one at a time. Then we were instructed on some arm movements, pelvic thrusts, feeling ourselves up and a special finishing move that is just too good to share here! So much fun!

What I found interesting was the great diversity in not only sizes of bodies in the class, but also ages and ethnicities and more! Plus, there were like three or four guys in the class, too! In fact, when it came time for us to perform our choreographed moves and a quick freestyle bit in groups of five and six in front of the class, the guys participated, too! It was so cool! We even got to use props! I chose a bright red feather boa and pretended to look like I knew what the hell I was doing! Ha-ha! The music was fun and perfect, too! everything from Prince’s “Erotic City” to Madonna’s “Vogue” and even 50 Cent and Kelis! All totally fitting and appropriate, I thought.

After the class I stayed to chat with Virgie and some other lovely ladies I had met at previous local fat events, Hi Allison & Alex! *Waves*
Virgie was kind enough to allow a couple of photos of us to be taken and so we had a bit of fun with it:

(Trying to re-enact the painting behind us.)

Next we headed back out into Good Vibrations for a bit of shopping! I had seen one specific toy that I almost bought online, but since it was the same price (and no shipping) and we got a 10% off coupon by attending the class I couldn’t say no! I thought it was extra awesome that they ask if you’d like to donate a dollar to planned parenthood, to which I most certainly said yes! How could I not? With the discount, tax and $1 for PP, it still ended up cheaper than the regular price! Chah!

By evening’s end, I had had a great time with a great friend and got to hang out with fellow fat fabulous ladies while learning some new dance moves! Who could ask for more?

Thanks, Virgie, for all that you do, gurl! You rock!
<3
S

I don’t think today’s TMI post will offend or bother anyone at all. I will be sharing my thoughts and revelations on my own past relationships and dating experiences. Nothing racy. But if you’d rather not know/read, then by all means, do come back tomorrow. Thanks!

*************************

I think we all get to a point in our lives where we look back on every romantic (or not) relationship we’ve ever had and begin to wonder about patterns and failures and such. While one could easily deem any relationship that ended a failure, I choose to see them all as learning experiences and happenstance (one of my favorite words). I became boy crazy at a young age. I think around pre-school! Ha-ha! But it’s true! I got “married” to my friend Kelly R. and made wedding cakes in the sand with him, we must have been 3 or 4 years old?! Yep, that early! In kindergarten the girls would chase the boys in the playground singing “Going to the chapel” to freak them out. I think that set a theme for me a bit after that.

While shy at first, I soon became the one to ask the boys out. Or at the very least hand them the opportunity to ask me out on a silver fucking platter! I rarely if ever played hard to get (but damn, that is so fun!). Oh sure, I’d get rejected occasionally. I’d get dumped, brutally, too. I would wallow in misery as a result, but would always find a way to get back out there and there always seemed to be a new boy to give me the attention I desired and wanted to give back as well. My first official boyfriend was in 7th grade. I met him at the first school dance I ever attended. He was such a dork! He danced, well, not great. My friends were merciless. But I saw something in him and when he asked me to dance and later to be his girlfriend, I said yes. I had my first real French kiss on Halloween night a few weeks later. It was swoon-worthy, I can assure you. Though I later dumped him for telling me I looked like shit when I was sick with the flu and he insisted on coming to see me even though I begged him not to come over. Also, he said he wanted to remain friends. That didn’t happen.

After that first one? Well, it was like someone had thrown the checkered flags and I was suddenly in overdrive. Every boy in school was a possible mate! But there were always the ones I wanted so badly that I obsessed over them. Preppies, mostly. Unattainable dudes. I was the awkward-poor girl constantly trying too hard to fit in or just not be noticed. I longed to wear sweaters and pegged Guess? jeans like the preppy girls, but they were so mean to me that I soon gave that notion up entirely. I always had guy friends, but there was a line I wouldn’t cross in that and I later found out many of them were gay. It was never an issue.

But then I met an older boy that would change my life forever. It was the summer before 8th grade. His name was Steve and I met him and my future BFF Marc at the same time that fateful day at the rec center pool. I was hanging out with my friend Jenny when we started talking to them. I didn’t know it at the time, but Steve would later become a fixation in my mind during my darkest times. It’s unfortunate that though we tried (we dated four times) we never did end up together. I have no regrets, but there was always electricity between us. While he disappointed me time and again over the next four years, I will never forget him.

My first serious boyfriend was the cutest boy in school. I was in 8th grade, he in 7th. I wore his Giants jacket and felt like the queen of love! He had these blue eyes that would do me in every time! *sigh* We dated for four whole months, an eternity in teenage time. I dreamt of having sex with him. I wanted him to be my first. But then he broke up with me and broke my heart and gave no reason why (I later found out that his mom had grounded him for over a month and just thought it best this way). That was my first true heartbreak. I bounced back easily enough though. I hadn’t begun the pattern of drowning in my own misery and self-harming thoughts.

I dated a lot of boys between the ages of 11 and 14. I lost my virginity at 14. It was nothing special. I wasn’t even dating the guy. But I was in love/lust with him for sure. He had already broken my heart once by that point, so the disappointment of the night wasn’t so much of a surprise as another in a string of disappointments. Then I met my abuser and for the next five years lived in a near-hostage situation. Few people know or can understand what that was like, I have no doubt that that relationship shaped me and made me the fearful and un-trusting gal I am today, but I wouldn’t go back and change it, either. I wouldn’t be with my husband if I did. Ya know?

When I finally escaped the abuser and started my life again, I went right back into boy-overdrive! I didn’t know who I was or what I wanted and was still pretty shaken (though in denial) from my recent past. So you can imagine the kinds of guys I was attracting: assholes, losers, etc. It wasn’t until I had had the worst breakup ever, was at wit’s end and not looking for love at all, that I met my husband. I’d just been promoted and had to do the interviews for x-mas help at a music store. B was my very first interview. I hired him, we became good friends and later (Doy!) we started dating and eventually got married and junk. He was the first friend I’d ever had feelings for or dated. So glad I broke that stupid rule! Ha-ha!

So now I’m at that point where I’m looking back and I see that what I had wanted all along and only ever once received (from my husband) was to be loved for me, as I am, without a desire to change me (from the guy). All I ever wanted was love, affection, poetry, to be desired like nothing else. No boy ever wrote me poetry or songs. Every boy I’d ever dated played guitar! Every single one of them. It’s freaky to consider. But none wrote me a song (that I know of). None surprised me with romantic proclamations or silly spontaneous acts of love. Romance? I’ve barely touched her waters. My husband used to try at least. He wrote me a poem once, I have it on a wall. Though I shared many things and too much of myself with many boys, I don’t think I was ever seen as something to cherish or hold onto or of serious value. There could be many reasons for this and perhaps they did and I was unaware. Never the less, I am happy with the boy I chose to keep.

After talking with an old friend a couple of weeks ago though, I realized that I missed out on a lot of things. I missed out on a mature dating environment. I missed out on being chased and wanted and desired in a mature-sexual way, rather than the immature kind which is all I’d ever known. None of those boys/guys wanted to make a woman out of me. None really even bothered with trying to give me an orgasm. At some point I stopped caring about myself entirely and became the pleaser in ways I’d rather not recount at the mo. I know these things happen due to my own conduct and choices as well as those involved at the time, but one cannot help but wonder, ya know? Not what ifs in the sense of any certain person or time. Just, well…

I want to be wanted like nothing else around. I want someone to want me like a fish wants water to swim in. I want someone to want me sexually as though they cannot go on until they have me. I want silly displays of love and romance! I want deep conversations and lost time! I want to laugh and love and give the same in return. I miss all of those ridiculous crushes and the ride of emotions that went along with them. I want spontaneity and lust! I want surprises again! It’s been so long!

And when I get glimpses of these things in my marriage I glow a glow that no one’s glowed before! I float upon feathery clouds. I smile all day the next day and no one knows why. Last Tuesday my husband made me feel so wanted and loved and just amazing! He knew what I wanted/needed before I did or could form the thought. No words were spoken. There was a moment where I felt drunk with fulfillment and pleasure. That moment was like no other I’d ever felt before. I felt both lost and perfectly in my place. Swoon-y would be how I might describe it. It only touches the surface, but it’ll do. Ha! But then it was over and the next day we went back to our weekday routines. The previous night a fantasy or a dream. A ray of lucidity in an otherwise manic world.

And so I long for that feeling again. I long for getting lost in a moment in time with the man I love like no other. I can’t look back on the past and wonder what went wrong when some things are so right in my life right now. I just don’t know if it will come again. But at least I had it, right? I just wish the routine wouldn’t define our lives so. I wish he could see or know or feel what he does to me. I fear he’s fallen out of love with me, but then on that night I had no doubt we were one. Since then (it’s been a week) it’s been different. And yesterday he said something to me that cut so deep I told him, “I don’t think you realize how hurtful that was” and burst into tears though I tried my best to keep ‘em in. He’s never done that before. And when I said, “Why are you even with me then? I don’t think you know anymore.” he said nothing in response. It’s always one step forward, two steps back. I try not to get down about it. Life is what it is and all. But what he said really hurt and how could he not know it? He was very remorseful, but I can’t get passed it. I still can’t forget the last time he lashed out at me. He’s so serious and quiet lately and I am in so much need of attention and companionship that it is painful.

I am so grateful to have him in my life. I am so madly in love with him that sometimes it freaks me out. Mostly because I don’t think he is in love with me anymore. He loves me, maybe even likes me, but it feels like we’re just roommates sometimes. And that hurts more than anything else. We’ll be okay, I know. But I’m a fool for love and boy crazy for sure. I’ll be the funky old lady with the brightly colored outfits no one can understand telling the young folk to live it up while they still can. They’ll think I’m drunk or senile and by then who knows, that may just be true. Ha-ha!

Thanks for reading and feel free to share your worries, TMI or otherwise, questions, etc…in comments.
<3
S

I was having a good long talk with an old friend the other night. She’s going through a tough time and well, frankly, so am I. It seems we’re both at a crossroads in our lives and while her problems are more immediate and urgent, it brought up a lot of stuff for me, too. I adore her and have known her since we were in the eighth grade (over 20 years, chi’ren). I was both surprised and relieved that she, too, forgets that she’s a girl sometimes. That sometimes you spend so much time in your head that you actually forget your gender. Not that I think for a moment, “Wait, am I male or female?” it’s more just a forgetting of my own sense of self overall.

I mentioned the other day that I realized I have a very hard time asking for anything. Sometimes though, I think it might be because I don’t know what it is I want or I am either afraid of asking for something that may seem unreasonable or even ridiculous. This came up for me again while chatting with my lovely friend because part of her recent issues have been because of the attention of come of the men in her life. It has been so long since she’d had such positive attention that she is suddenly unsure of how to even deal with it. And we talked about what she wants and doesn’t want and how she could go about that. I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy. Not that I would take anything from her, she’s amazing and awesome and I’m not the only one who thinks so. But it was that positive male attention! Wow! I miss that!What? I know, I’m married. But it’s different. And things haven’t been the same, I think, since I opened the cafe…maybe even before that!

I was struck by the story of a friend of hers she’d known for ages that suddenly hit on her. Well, let me rephrase that. He said she was “infinitely beautiful.” She was so against the notion. She couldn’t even hear it let alone accept it. She said, “Look, I know I’m cute, but I’m not beautiful.” And I said to her, “But ya are! Ya are infinitely beautiful!” Because, let’s face it, this gal has never been in want of male attention. Same with me, but she puts me to shame in this realm. She doesn’t think so, but I know it’s true. I never stole a single one of her men of interest…but let’s leave it at that! She is beautiful. She is also charming as hell (she didn’t buy that either). So it broke my heart to hear that she still carries so many of the insecurities that I used to have. About aging, about body image…all that stuff! And here I am, older and fatter than ever and I’m actually totally okay with that and me. I mean, my body is rad. No qualms there. But…but?

But damn do I miss the attention. The wooing! The winning of my heart. Not just the chase and the dance that is the dating scene, but just having someone who still wants to impress you or not even that, just that they want you. I just want to feel wanted and needed and desired! Oh man! That is it right there. I forget that I’m a girl because no one treats me like one. So yeah, when someone suddenly does? You can’t help but notice. And I, vicariously, will have to live it through her. To hear the things that have been said to her? Swoon! How could anyone blame her? Well, they shouldn’t, anyway.

No, my marriage isn’t broken or whatever they call it now days. It’s fine. We’re just having a tough time of living, ya know? It’s hard to want to do anything when you’re so broke you have to consider breathing a fun pastime. I think we’re both depressed weather or not we wanna admit it. So who the hell feels like wooing anybody?! And even when I am full of that lusty desire, I freak out about showing or asking for it. And I end up hating myself for it, too. Ugh! I thought I was so confident, especially with my husband. But I am not. It’s a struggle. Even now. I can somehow manage to press on and open my own cafe, but asking my husband to seduce me? Ha-ha! I can’t do it!

What many don’t realize is that long-long-term relationships (13 years, y’all!) go through cycles. There are times when you’re just not in love like you were and you get through those times because you still love the person and find them dead sexy and all, but the spark comes and goes. A couple of months ago I fell for my guy all over again! It was like magic! But he didn’t know what the hell to do with all of the attention and so I laid off. I was surprised by this reaction, but I respected it. But shit, man! I just want him to want me like he used to. And it sucks knowing that he doesn’t (he hasn’t said so, I just feel it, ya know?).

And there is it and that is that. I share these things with you and I wonder why. But it helps. Sometimes I’ll write a post like this and have an epiphany either from a comment (please comment! Ha!) or just thinking it over again in my head and I get an answer! This is life and there’s never a quick fix. I know. But like I said, this helps. Just getting it out there helps. So thank you for reading this blog and my problems and always just being there to bear witness to it all or to comment and help or share your own issues. I am so grateful to have you all in my life and the fat acceptance community, too! <3