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I wish that some people could understand what it's like to be an introvert. Then maybe, just maybe, when I have a hard time wanting to go out anywhere, they will know the things they are saying is making things 10 times worse. I do NOT need to be told I'm irrational in my thinking, or I'm going to miss out on a good time. Don't you think I know I'm going to miss out on life and experiences? I don't need those comments. Or being told I'm a boring and un-fun person who likes to do nothing. My "nothing" is what grounds me. I need my nothing or I will go crazy. So please, just stop.
CW: sexual assault, abuse
Hey there Shy’s. Perhaps you’ve noticed I’ve been away lately, perhaps the thought never crossed your mind. In truth it hasn’t been all that long since I was last posting regularly, maybe a month or so. Objectively that’s not very long, but it feels like a lot considering that for a while I was logging on multiple times a day. I’d like to say I was just busy, and that would be partially true, but it’s not the whole story. I’ve been avoiding the site because I know it’s a place where we are open and vulnerable to each other and I haven’t been ready for that. Frankly I’m just starting to emerge from the mental equivalent of fetal position.
I made a post in March titled “Does Your Primary Limit You?” in which I described the experience of being dumped by my secondary partner because they disliked my primary partner. Things went downhill rather quickly after that. I took stock of my relationship with him and decided that things couldn’t continue as they were. He initially seemed to agree, looking into the logistics of getting his own place once our lease ran out in January. However in retrospect it seems that he was bluffing, hoping the prospect of him actually leaving would make me change my mind. Instead in only convinced me that I had made the right decision.
I know now why it’s said that the most dangerous stage of an abusive relationship is leaving. As I began to assert my independence and embrace the prospect of being single, he became increasingly aggressive towards me. This came to a head on St. Patrick’s Day. My back was sore, so I asked him to help me into the bath. He agreed, being very solicitous and bringing me Epsom salts. He then started taking off his own clothes and got in the bath. I thought that was a little odd, but didn’t object. He stated an interest in taking a bath separately after I got out. Consequently I was surprised when he followed me into the bedroom as I went to get dressed, or should I say tried to get dressed. He leaned over and lay on top of me as I tried to put my panties on. At first it seemed playful, and I just asked him to get off so I could get ready for choir rehearsal. Unlike other times, he didn’t budge. He asked to do more and more, eventually demanding that I have sex with him before I left. I declined four times, but he still wasn’t getting off of me. At this point I was running half an hour late for my rehearsal so I told him to just get it over with. He entered me immediately without even pausing to put on a condom. After a few minutes it was over. Oddly, he was the one who cried afterwards rather than me.
On the way to rehearsal I felt hollow inside. I wasn’t ready to call it what it was, but I still had a distinct sense that what had happened crossed a line. Once singing, I sang “I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair” with an unusual degree of enthusiasm. Afterwards I was scheduled to audition as part of an octet to perform the song “Quiet”, composed for the 2017 Women’s March. Singing the opening lines “Put on your face/Know your place/Shut up and smile/Don’t spread your legs” I almost broke down crying. Still, I wasn’t ready to explain to my fellow singers why I had been late, and stuck with the half truth that I had missed my train.
Afterwards I went to an Irish pub nearby, as I had originally intended to do, but with a very different mindset. I grabbed as much Guiness as was put in front of me. At this point I began getting a string of passive aggressive text messages from my boyfriend asking where he was and if he could join. I responded that I would prefer not to see him but wouldn’t tell him not to come to a public place. This led to him berating me for not giving a straight answer and insisting that I state my preferences more clearly (fat lot of good that did me when I actually tried it.) We eventually agreed to the “compromise” of meeting at a nearby bookstore. While he traveled over my phone died and my primary concern was that I wouldn’t be able to contact him; the psychology of abusive relationships can be strange like that.
After hanging out at the bookstore, we went home and attempted to have a Serious Talk. He asked why I was still angry about what had happened that morning, since he had apologized a whopping three times. He also pointed out that he had forgiven me when I supposedly cheated on him by being naked with someone else he knew I was dating. Having not clearly established a rule against this, I didn’t view it as infidelity, but that is a discussion for another time (if ever.) In that moment I realized how much he had been holding a grudge over that incident. After I officially declared my intention to end things with him because of what he did, he exhorted me not to cope by hopping into bed with strangers “like you usually do” – despite the fact that I have never had casual sex in my life and have had only one additional sexual partner besides him. I mention this context not to slut shame, but to highlight that only a person with a highly distorted view of my sexual behavior and beliefs would make such a statement.
The next day I called my best friend and said I had something to talk about. I considered trying to beat around the bush but eventually elected to just spit it out – “I think I got raped yesterday.” She listened to me and confirmed that what I had experienced was textbook sexual assault. At this point we had already been planning a visit in honor of her birthday, but agreed that it would be a good idea to bump it up a week so she could give me moral support. Once I finally said the words, my feelings became very clear and I told my now ex-boyfriend he needed to move out ASAP.
The process of moving him out was a saga unto itself, so I think I will end the post here and add an explanation of that later on. Thank you all for your wise advice on these matters, both directly to me and in general. Particular thanks to N00Bi for helping me talk through what happened and encouraging me to maintain strong boundaries and prioritize my own emotional health. It would be lying to say I feel ok at this point, but I have a lot of support and I am healing. I’m optimistic that I will get through this.
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Well since realizing i do have a crush on her, it is becoming apparent that i have a type. She is blonde and tall and i find myself staring at her chest...or i did when i was in her room and we would do circle time with the kids and omg... She is also very calming and she was a good teacher as i learned a lot from her and now i try not to make it so obvious when she is around...
Im not sure when i realized i was crushing on her and to tell her would not be a good thing as she has a boyfriend and it would make it awkward if i were to sub for her again..
I had thought of texting her, but im not sure because i hadn't really talked to her in awhile and i don't know if it would be a weird thing to do or not...
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I'm not heartbroken. I'm not spending my days crying. I am fine and will continue to be fine, but I'm mad.
I can't STOP being mad because now I know I doubted myself when I shouldn't have. YOU made me doubt myself when I should have trusted my instinct that there was something going on.
Shame on me for letting you in. Shame on me for not keeping my eyes open and my head clear. Shame on me for expecting you to treat me the same way I did you. But worst of all, shame on me for not trusting myself when I started to notice things not right. I wanted SO BADLY to believe that I was different to you than anyone else you had lied to, cheated on, mistreated, or tossed aside. But now I know, I wasn't.
Now I know. And it stings. Not the unbearable sharp, sting of rubbing alcohol being poured on a fresh cut. More like a slow, seething burn that you don't notice until it's too late, like a sunburn. The kind that keeps you in discomfort, close to agony, for days afterwards because you didn't trust your instinct and put on some goddamn sunscreen, even though you knew better. I knew better, but I trusted you, I have been bit, one, two, three too many times. I
It still didn't stop me from being seduced by you. Or stop me from thinking you would see me as different, any more, than anyone else you had wronged. It didn't stop me from giving you trust you didn't earn and didn't use well.
I'm still mad. I see now, because I was stupid enough to keep checking on you, that you are happy and may very well have found exactly what you are looking for, and with the one that I'm so fucking angry about. And believe me or not, there is a small piece of me that hopes so and is happy for you. But there is a bigger piece that wonders how long until you screw this up too, because theres a bitter side of me that is betting against you.Ani Difranco Says..."I used to be a superhero
No one could touch me
Not even myself
You are like a phone booth
That I somehow stumbled into
And now look at me
I am just like everybody else"You were my phone booth. You were what made me forget to treat my feelings with respect and keep my eyes open to those who would do me harm, like I have diligently done for years now. And you took advantage of my vulnerability and now I'm mad at you. Furious. Resentful. Enraged.I blocked you from facebook, not because I care what you see, because I can't get mad about what I don't see if I block myself from seeing it. Another shame on me, I knew better than to keep checking in on you. But I did it anyways.As a result I will deal with another few days of anger before I can get back on the path of healing. A little more damaged, a little wiser, and a little stronger.
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Why I am doing this now, almost three years after the breakup and two years since we last spoke, I don’t really know. I barely shed a tear when we ended, and the one or two that I did shed were mainly down to annoyance at myself, that I put up with you for so long.
But to be honest, it is more than time that some of this stuff went on record. You were so sweet and so lovely to me when we met, and I believe that was genuine at the time, and to this day I can’t understand how someone could change so utterly. Looking back, thought, the red flags were always there.
Before we’d even met in person, you’d pulled back when I expressed nervousness about meeting. If I ever committed the cardinal sin of saying you sounded low, or unsure about us, or - heaven forbid! - asking for reassurance, it would result in a freeze-out that would last for days. You helped make our one-year anniversary extra memorable, for instance, by blanking me for three days over something trivial right after we’d had what I thought was a lovely couple of days away together to celebrate.
If I ever had to change the slightest detail of a meet-up, a rescheduling or even just a slight delay in being able to get there, you’d try to call it all off. At least once you literally ended things with me because I said I couldn’t make a planned meet-up after all. You know what, I wish I’d just called your bluff and taken back my life much sooner.
You publicly wrote what amounted to a love poem TO SOMEONE ELSE and seemed perplexed as to why I would have a problem with that.
You ruined three meets for me, which is quite an accomplishment given that you were only on two of them.
You sneered at the town I grew up in, the town I love for all its faults. You ruined a fun evening in a fun place with nice people because you were homesick for fucking Chinawhite, or wherever else you deemed ‘good enough’ for you. If you want the truth, that weekend was the beginning of the end for me. First off you announced you weren’t coming. Then you changed your mind and I ended up wishing you hadn’t. You were so rude to some of my dearest friends, including the person who’d been kind enough to drive you there in the first place, and also the owner of the B&B where we stayed, someone I’ve been friends with since I was 16. You spent the evening after the meet giving me the silent treatment because someone flipped you the V on the street, like it was my fault because I’d apparently committed the unforgivable sin of stopping to speak to him in the first place. (Oh, by the way, you continued this theme delightfully the time you ripped me a new one for stopping in the street to sign a petition to stop a children’s acute care ward from closing: ‘You shouldn’t stop for these people,’ quote unquote.) You were still pulling your Princess Elsa act the next morning and I still didn’t walk, why? Because I was stupid enough to be concerned for you. You didn’t seem in a good place, but after the way you treated me you’re lucky I gave a damn about your feelings any more. I should have left you to stew in your sulk, and at the end of that weekend, when you superciliously announced, ‘I knew you wouldn’t go,’ I so wished that I had.
I have so many regrets about almost every aspect of our relationship. I regret that I didn’t care enough to get angry enough about the way I was treated. I made too many excuses for you, put up with way too much. But I mostly regret that I didn’t call you out more on the way you treated people I cared for. It was like if you knew someone was important to me, that was a reason to be shitty to them - and then you made ME out to be the insecure one. What a joke. You’d post the most horrible things online about MY FRIENDS and expect me to cheer you on, then sulk when I didn’t. You’d purposely stir up trouble and then get on Viber to me boasting about how you were ‘kicking some butt today’, no you weren’t. You were just being nasty for the sheer fun of being nasty. You almost drove more than one of my dearest friends away with your bizarre behaviour towards them. If you want the truth, I consider myself lucky they still speak to me. There were many, MANY occasions when I was ashamed to have anything to do with you. ‘The Defiant’? Don’t make me laugh. ‘The Psycho’ would have been closer to the mark.
I had so much going on in my life, but any show of weakness - or, heaven forbid, tears - was treated dismissively, or, worse, with contempt. Everything had to be about you all the time; I wrote a post on here recently about how I always thought I’d know narcissism when I saw it, but failed to realise for four years straight that I was dating it, it will always be a puzzle to me how I didn’t see what was right in front of my eyes. It’s like you can’t bear any trace of human frailty around you, you can only cope with people who have larger-than-life, tougher-than-Teflon personalities with the ego to match. The rest of us - those who aren’t afraid to feel, and to admit we feel and admit we cry - well, you have a word for us, don’t you? That’s right: inexplicably, somehow WE are the cowards.
And yet I let things drift on. Till finally the weekend when, in hindsight, I know I really should have told you where to stick it. It was already long overdue by that point. You flounced out of that meet on a whim, dramatically announcing that ‘this bi thing wasn’t for you.’ In hindsight I wish I’d let you go back to the hotel alone, stayed at the meet and enjoyed myself without you hanging around like a walking storm warning, but at the time I was stupid enough to care about what that meant for us, you’d become a habit by then, and my mind hadn’t yet caught up to the fact of how much better off I’d be without you. So we stood there, outside Candy Bar, the second time we’d stood outside a bar while you ruined my evening, and I let you have it, about what a bitch you were being, tears of anger streaming down my cheeks, and what did you do? You laughed in my face. And then when I walked off and left you to make your own way back, you were a bitch about that too. Did I ever get an apology for any of this? Not one that seemed even remotely sincere. (The saddest thing about that, by the way? Candy Bar was where we’d had our first kiss more than two years previously. Nice to see how much that memory meant to you.)
In hindsight, I can see that you were ambivalent about me for pretty much most of the time we were (supposedly) together. That’s fine - it’s your prerogative, especially as I was similarly ambivalent about you - but I rue pretty much all the time and money I spent on our relationship. It was an expensive lesson in more ways than one. Eventually I became so indifferent to you that I couldn’t even bothered to end it. That’s how apathetic you made me. When a person never shows you their heart, never shows a modicum of fragility, of human-ness… over time, there’s something oddly repellent about that. I stopped thinking about you in a sexual way long before we ended. I didn’t even especially want to kiss you. I used to get bored sometimes when we were doing ‘stuff’ and start listening to the TV instead, do you know that? Your insensitivity towards me at times was quite the biggest anti-aphrodisiac going, you see.
I keep trying to remind myself how good it was in the beginning when you used to actually let me in on how you were feeling, when you let me know that you cared, deeply, and even needed me. But that was only one side to your persona, and it disappeared over time. You just turned total ice-queen bitch and I was left scratching my head trying to figure out why. At one time I cared enough to try to figure you out. I knew you suffered badly from premenstrual mood swings, and I sympathised, but I tolerated way too much in the name of that excuse. It ended up being easier not to call you out on stuff because you would retaliate by making the most personal and hurtful verbal attacks on me, my insecurities, my vulnerabilities, that I’d been stupid enough to reveal to you. If there was one of us that had a personality disorder, it certainly isn’t me.
What you did to our relationship - to my feelings - was comparable to taking a beautifully handwritten love letter and scrawling obscenities all over it in marker felt. In the end my feelings just died, simple as that. Although you’d never have believed it, they were dead long before we ended. That was nicely done, by the way, via a random email in the middle of a busy work day - how were you to know all I would feel was relief? I could have been in bits for all you knew. But if I had been, and I’d told you so, I’d have been made to feel bad for that too. Everything is always someone else’s fault in your world, isn’t it? Your faith is so important to you, and you’re so convinced God loves you just as you are. Have you ever actually stopped to *look* at who you are? At how shabbily you treat people? And if you have, how on earth can you continue to call yourself a Christian? Oh well, that’s for your conscience to deal with now, I’m just glad to be out of the whole dysfunctional mess.
Even after we broke up you still tried to mess with my head, tried to make me jealous that you were moving on, when all I felt by this point was relief. At the time you tried out your little game I was rather more concerned by the fact that my cat had narrowly escaped death after being hit by a car and how did you respond? A cursory comment about hoping she was OK, then radio silence, because I didn’t play your little game, did I. You ‘hit back’ by unfriending me on Facebook and I just wanted to laugh.
The only regret I have now is that you’ll never get to read this. You’ll never know what I really thought of you towards the end. You’ll probably never get wise and stop being such a bitch, either.
So there we are, I finally said it.
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Heather: Dr. Doctor, I think I've caught something serious. Something serious from a woman.
Dr. Doctor: I'll try to help you. Tell me, what have you been feeling that ails you?
Heather: I've been feeling so many things since I've come in contact with her...
I think about her everyday and many times a day.
I leap for joy at every opportunity I have to talk to her and to listen to her.
She upstages every women with her beauty that has captured my eyes, my mind, and quite possibly, my heart.
I am taken aback with our unlikely and serendipitous encounter. What were my odds of finding a woman with the worldview and values that so closely mirrors mine? Oh, how good she and I can be for each other!
I hope so dearly that she feels something special for me as I do for her.
I fear so dreadfully that she doesn't feel something special for me as I do for her.
I try to prepare myself for the devastation that may strike me in the event that she doesn't want me the way I want her. I fight with my emotions as I try to accept my inability to fully prepare for these foreign feeling that have already blindsided me.
I am captivated and terrified.
Heather: Dr. Doctor, what should I do? Is there a treatment for this? What is my prognosis?
Dr. Doctor: I'm afraid I don't have the expertise to handle your case. Here is a referral for a consultation with my colleagues at the Shybi Clinic.
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Well, today I found out that my Girlfriend was already dating a guy before I even got the chance to tell her that I think we should be friends. Wow! I'm not hurt but pissed now. She lead me to believe she was interested in a monogamous relationship with me. She even sat me down to tell me what she was "about." Meaning not dating more than one person at a time. She said she had " been with women" but not had a relationship with one but, that she really vibes with me and that it wasn't about what someone had between their legs for her but, what they felt. But then, when I'd try to ask her out, after we had been intimate, she was always busy. I had started to pick up signs that she wanted out but wasn't woman enough to admit it. So, that's why I ended it. Now she's following me around like a lost puppy, not because she wants me back but, because we work together and she doesn't want me mad or drama at work. She's afraid I'll post the many nude photos of herself that she sent me in the short time we dated. Sigh, I hope most women aren't like her. If they are, I'd rather be alone.
I think a guy and I are flirting.
I mean, he comes up to me today, asks if I want a kiss, and hands me a Hersey's Kiss. That's flirting, right?
I just hope I didn't blush too bad at that. Especially if it actually wasn't intended as flirting. I used to blush horribly. No one has commented on it in a few years, so I can only hope I got over that tendency.
That's far from the only example, though so much of it is the sitting around mildly insulting eachother sort of flirting, so it's kind of hard to say. It's maybe possible that it's been going on for years, but definitely escalated over the past few months.
He's married. I'm married too, but we're poly, so it doesn't count. I told my husband I had a new work boyfriend, and he's like "Ok, whatever". But this guy, he's sealed in the temple for time and all eternity married. I ain't messing with that. Not that I believe in it, but it pushes several very specific mistrust buttons for me.
But he's sweet and funny and clean cut and taller than me and intelligent and educated and caring. And paying attention to me. And all of this without one ounce of creepiness or inappropriateness, beyond the fact that we're both married and seem to be flirting.
And, truth be told, I don't think I have any real non-platonic interest in him. My mind hasn't gone there, and doesn't seem to want to. Which kinda makes me question whether I'm interested in men at all anymore.
I just like attention. Especially such nice, undemanding, PG attention.
I've always questioned whether he is actually straight. At first he totally pinged my gaydar. And then I found out he was Mormon, and that made sense, because it isn't unusual, in my experience, for Mormon guys to appear more interested in musical theater than women. But guys I'm interested in have this odd tendency to be gay, or at least bi, and he wouldn't be the first married Mormon guy with a bunch of kids to actually be closeted.
But he seems to be flirting with me, which implies at least some interest in women, except that I'm flirting with him and I'm not at all sure I'm interested, so perhaps it's the same on his end? Maybe this is all just some insane ego-boosting charade for both of us?
One can always hope. Because that's certainly easier than the eventuality that one or the other of us will have to put a stop to this.
I had my first dream with a woman last night...
Even in dreamland things can't go my way! At first everything was going perfectly... The two of us were on a bed, face to face with me straddling one of her thighs. We were touching and kissing, and all of a sudden she just gets up and leaves me there!
What the heck is that?!
So I might have deep seeded issues from my childhood :-P . But I turned out reasonably sane, I promise. These are sayings grown-ups used to say that now as an adult I disagree with.
"You have to suffer to be beautiful."
From waxing, to high heels, to spending hours of doing our hair, women go through a lot of pain to look "pretty." My mom's justification is that it's just the cost of being beautiful. I strongly disagree. I believe beauty is when we are truly ourselves. We are truly ourselves when we are comfortable and in our own element. We are the most comfortable when we are at our most natural, when our essence shines through. And that takes no work at all (maybe just a little courage). So I believe that being our beautiful selves is the easiest thing in the world.
"All couples fight. It's just part of love."
I guess this was a way to explain the fights our parents would get into. There was always a lot of yelling, sometimes things got broken (photo frames, lamps, walls....). I understand that life has it's struggles, it's not all unicorns and rainbows. But yelling only escalates things. As an adult in a relationship approaching a decade, I have discovered that not all couples fight, at least we don't. Does that mean we love each other less? Certainly not! It means when we disagree we don't get defensive, and we listen to the other person. There are times when I do close in, and need space in order to process my feelings, but I would never lash out at my partner. We're in this together.
"Better to have loved and lost, than not loved at all."
I hate this saying. A lot. I've gotten it many times from adults after a heartbreak, and it did not help in the least bit. It doesn't make sense to me, and brings little comfort. Was I suppose to feel lucky then? Grateful that someone ripped out my heart? How does this help me heal? It didn't. Nor did it help me evolve as a person. Just say: "It sucks, I know."
It's been months since my last entry, and I've honestly missed being brutally honest on here. So much has happened, almost all of it a mess. My friend, who I fell hard for, told me to pursue relationships because she saw me as just a friend. Still, she acted weird every single time I started talking to someone, male or female. I tried to maintain, and I accepted that I probably wouldn't be with anyone. I was accepting that I had come out as bisexual, people were generally accepting, and I continued to work hard in therapy.
While doing some activities completely alone, I met someone. A beautiful man who wanted nothing more than to make me happy, to show me that I could be vulnerable, that not everything had to be scary, He asked me to just give him a chance, and I said we would get nowhere without complete honesty. With nothing to lose, I told him everything. Everything that hurt, everything I had been through, every reason I could not possibly be a good girlfriend. Most of all, I bit the bullet and told him that I was bisexual.
I had never told a potential partner this, and he had reasonable questions. How many women had I been with? Did I try to be with women? If we have a real future together, am I ever going to regret not being with a woman, because he wants 100% commitment? I answered every question honestly, including assuring him that if I was with ANYONE I would want 100% commitment too. He was looking to settle down, plan for a family, and it felt so natural. We've now been together almost six months,
The painful part comes in about three months ago when my friend, my crush, decided that I was not there for her enough. She felt uncomfortable with my relationships elsewhere; she said I was forgetting her and leaving her behind. Instead of talking to her about my pains, I shared everything with my boyfriend. Then, she observed me with a group of friends - having a good time - and said she had lost me. I tried to explain; we argued, screaming and crying, for hours with no resolution. I finally said, "I can't do this anymore. I need you to realize you are wrong on this one. It isn't fair what you're doing." She said I needed to do the exact same thing. I concluded, "I have to let you go."
We have not talked since. I had already paid for an expensive vacation which I took on my own, and it was so weird to know that she and I will never talk again. I explained to my boyfriend that ALL of this was complicated; he took the embarrassing details far better than I would've had the roles been reversed.
I hate that I feel like I ruined everything with that friend by admitting the truth; however, I am so lucky. I have met the absolute love of my life. He has shown me so much peace and acceptance that I've fallen so deep in love. It worked out for the best, and I'm glad I'm out. It is just that now I have completely new fears.
This man wants to be married, to have kids, and grow old together. I am terrified to be intimate again, especially since I've only been with one person - a violent, abusive man. I am terrified I will be a terrible wife, terrible mother. But I want this life...I want to be with him. I don't want to be afraid anymore. If I made it through the pain of losing a woman who I was sure would always be in my life, I know I can face these new fears. Wish me luck!
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I found shys on a random google search one evening and was soon hooked. I had finally found a place where I could be open about my emotions for the first time in my life! It’s liberating!
I have connected with some of the most amazing people who have made me open up (something I really wasn’t used to), they’ve listened to me on my down days (there have been many). We’ve laughed and shared stories and experiences, and every single interaction has made a huge difference to my life and how I’ve handled things along the way. I can’t thank you enough for taking the time to listen to me pouring my heart out even when you had your own problems to deal with so for that I am eternally grateful.
One unique lady became very special to me early on. I felt that magnetic pull towards her and I wasn’t sure what or why I felt that strongly, but I did. We hit it off quickly. So much in common, the same interests and desires. Everything just clicked into place. She was all I could think about. We messaged every day and grew closer and closer.
We were both open with our husbands, but sadly, they both became very insecure with our connection, which, to be fair, was stronger than either of us had ever experienced before, although we never told them how strong, I guess they could tell. As much as we love our husbands, we grew to love each other too and it consumed and scared us both. Despite their insecurities we had to see each other, with their consent, never crossing the line, and sticking to the firm boundaries that husbands had set. If you were hoping for a raunchy shys story, this isn’t it. It was however, the most romantic and loving relationship I’ve ever experienced with anyone before and I’m fortunate enough to have a best friend at the end of it too.
It’s been 11 months since our first messages and we’ve become so close, even if friendship is all we can have. The connection we made is unique and special and I’m a better person when I’m with her. I’m forever grateful to this place for making that possible.
So while her husband can’t bear the thought of her being with anyone else, mine is coming around to the idea. The journey I’ve been on with my marriage is a post for another time but he has been truly amazing and in an odd way it’s brought us closer. Lots of communication and trial and error, which has been really hard at times. In the end it all comes down to one simple but crucial point….that he must always feel like he’s my number one priority above anyone else. I neglected him at times and I see that now. He accepts I may have relationships with other women if the opportunity presents itself, as long as he never feels like second best. Sounds simple enough right?? I thought so until I fell in love with a woman. It’s…..intense! I have so much to learn.
So this is where I am now, a year later. I finally accepted who I am, I’ve dipped my toes in a world I was afraid of for a long time and found I’m quite at home here. I just need to figure out what I want, and I'm working a little harder on my marriage because he really is an incredible man.
Right now this is just a big thank you to the people who set up this wonderful site and allowed a highly supressed bisexual to express herself in ways she never thought possible. I hope it helps others too.
I'm tired of the way you make me feel. I 'm tired of the ups and downs and the way you play with my emotions. I'm tired of you being a controlling narcissist and getting mad or suspicious any time I do something. I'm tired of being married to my dad.
I grew up with an angry dad and he taught me how to repress my feelings and bottle up my emotions. He was always angry and the littlest things would set him off. I learned how to walk on eggshells at a young age. The abuse was never physical from him, it was all mental, verbal, and emotional. My dad had a way of making us feel stupid and insignificant with just a look or a phrase. I grew up knowing I'd never be good enough, I grew up knowing I'd always be lacking in some way. I learned to tune out the yelling, I built walls around my cold, hardened heart to keep the hurt out, my humor became cynical like his, I learned to turn off my emotions, and I learned to accept and also expect disappointment from people in my life. His cheating and affairs made me angrier and so full of hate and resentment. I grew up hurting and angry...and then I met you.
You made me smile and tore down my walls and defenses. You accepted me and my flaws with open arms, and you made me want to be a better person. I couldn't believe you were real or that you had fallen for me. You took care of me and held me at night, listened to me when I needed a friend...you genuinely cared. I loved showing you off and bragging on you to my friends because you treated me well and you were so respectful and sweet to me. I woke up smiling and went to bed snuggled in your arms. My heart was so full of love that I thought it was going to explode on a daily basis. You made me feel again....you made me want to feel again. You made me feel confident and strong and beautiful and loved. You made me feel smart and special and loved doing anything and everything with me....I felt like I could conquer the world with you by my side. You made me feel whole.
Then I lost you.
Physically you sit here across the room from me, snoring as you nap on the couch. The laughter and smiles have become fewer, and the arguments and degradation have become the norm. Those dark feelings of insecurity and unworthiness have started creeping up on me, waiting to once again become a part of me. My heart is gradually turning to stone as I write these words, and the bricks are being laid in a circle around it. My emotions are as drained as the Tequila bottle on the counter, and part of me has begun to disappear. That woman in the mirror? She's flawed, her imperfections are too many to name. She talks too much, she's too trusting, she gets zits and needs to lose weight and she never does anything right. You remind me with your words that I didn't do something right, you remind me with your actions that I'm not enough. "If I were enough for him, he'd want to be intimate with me once in awhile." Says the woman in the mirror. I try to fight the hurt and despair, but it follows me everywhere. I am tired of this battle. I am tired of always being wrong and feeling insignificant. I am tired of trying only to be crushed and hurt. I sometimes catch a glimpse of the man I married, the man you used to always be. But sometimes isn't enough...sometimes doesn't make me feel like you used to.
I sit here and shut down my feelings, I only feel hurt and confusion. I look at you as I feel my heart harden and the wall continue to go up. I will not let anyone hurt me anymore. I will not be vulnerable to you, even if it means I have to shut down completely. The dark feelings cover me like a blanket and suddenly I feel nothing at all. I'm becoming numb to feeling and I'm okay with that. I'd rather feel nothing at all if my other options are hurt and confusion. I can be comfortable being numb. I light my cigarette and let the feeling of feeling fade away. I feel a little cold inside, but it beats the way you made me feel. I tried so many times to tell you and each time was less important to you, I was less important. With each puff of smoke I notice the numbness growing inside me and it feels so familiar, like going home after a long vacation. I welcome the numbness and let it cover me completely like a blanket. I snuggle in and get comfortable with it, I think it is here to stay this time.
So I am still here, well in body anyway but taking all my strength to keep my sanity. I don't speak to anyone other than a polite good mor ning and sometimes not that if I can avoid it. I do keep my eyes open though having worked with the anti social behaviour team in case I can get that all important video evidence and I keep a diary. One of the things I had noticed is that the main perp, the most biphobic and loudest seems to have connections in the local gay community, so that her game now appears to be to try and hurt me in that way but as I have not ventured on the gay scene for decades this is not really gonna affect me. I have only picked this up from observations as I go about my business. It proves just how much she talks about me and the different strangers to me that she gossips to. It's horrible really to be vilified in this way and totally unjust. Of course there has to be something at the root of all this and what is it they say is the root of all evil? That says more about them than it does me.
In the meantime, me? I am physically and mentally exhausted. I don't know what the answer is, they can label me what they want but if I ain't feeling it I ain't gonna do it. Why should I? Just to please them? I don't think so. I ain't making any major life decisions until I am absolutely sure of how I am feeling and until I feel ready. The main thing I want now is peace and quiet and to be allowed to go about my legitimate legal business without having other people impose themselves on me and try to run my life.
The more they do that the more I will run in the other direction.
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Oh how I wish I could converse with you Em
Sit opposite you and intertwine our fingers, and have out hearts beat in sync
To see your pupils dilate, to hear your breathe, to smell the pheromones
Oh how I wish we could talk
Talk of our parents... dive right in to your brain
Your ability to know without speaking
Discuss our past, and present without a care for the future
Oh how I wish we could talk
In each others presence
And delicious awareness
Oh how I want to touch you on all levels
To hear you whisper my name
To curl up in your arms
To wipe away my tears
Oh how I wish we could talk Em
I really want to see how much you have grown
And show you how much I have been set free
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It all began back in 2009 when I found this site, I hid it from my hubby for two days. Then confessed all, which forced me to make my first comment on my sexuality - that at the time I was definitely bi curious. After arranging to meet up with some of the more local friends I'd made on here. I went along to my first BiFest in Birmingham, that day after listening to everyone else and being able to freely discuss my thoughts and feelings I realised that yes I was in fact BISEXUAL all along. I started to come out to people who were the very close near and dear, but hubby asked me to be discreet, as he didn't want bitch fit waves started in his family. I respected that, wasn't too happy about it but I understood and went along with it for him, especially as he was open and supportive in every other way.
I became like a teenager again, exploring online dating, discovering bi nights at swingers clubs - great for the more casual itch scratching with no strings and you can lock the men out! Even figured out I'd been harbouring BDSM leanings too, whole new discovery path of joy that has been.
Went on my first two dates ever, with girls I'd met on dating sites. Both separately turned into short term casual involvements. The first a lovely lesbian lady who isn't bifobic, and I'm still friends with even now. The second was a short lived relationship of sorts, still not 100% on what went wrong but it was fun while it lasted. Not to mention a string a casual making up for lost time action here and there, with casual involvements. Every year attending pride and loving that I could be 100% open for one day and not care who knew.
I even came out to my son, who has been hugely supportive from a young age. He sees no issue at all with my sexuality or relationship choices - I'm so lucky.
Then a good year or two of not much, after the short lived serious involvement. A new dating app for girls came along, and I found my current gf. We've been together a year and a half ish now. And so much has changed, hubby eventually told some of his family - which I'm certain lead to his dad feeling comfortable enough to finally out himself too. I still don't dance naked shouting from the roof tops, but I am more myself and don't have to always make excuses anymore - which is way more comfortable for me. And means I can be fairly openly public with my sexuality, my neighbours being the last nosy fuckers who gossip and could do damage being left really.
So that brings me to now. Where I think I'm approaching the edges of splits ville with the gf, more recently I've realised bits of us as a couple are really unhealthy, toxic even. I knew from the start we wouldn't last forever, as I was her first ... but I guess it's a watch this space and see how it goes.
At the end of October the hubby and I will be making our yearly trip to a long time stomping ground. We make the trip at least once a year. This year though I am very excited, as I have lost a bit of weight so I have a bit more options in what I can wear while there and since it will be during Halloween I get to wear a sexier costume too.
The only thing that is making me nervous is an incident that happened last year. We like to go into gentleman clubs(strip clubs) and have a bit of fun watching/talking to the dancers. Well last year my husband was drugged in a club there. We only had one or two small drinks prior to going in. The dancers were not my type so we didn't plan on staying long. My hubby asked for a drink as I sat in front of a stage talking with a dancer. She was trying to distract me by dancing on me and when that didn't work, she lifted my shirt/bra up and bit me on the left breast. Not a sexy bite either. She bit the hell out of me. Needless to say, I got up and told the hubbs we were leaving. When we made it outside he fell to the ground and couldn't get up by himself. Then he felt like he'd been paralyzed. He could barely talk. It took me an hour and a half to carry him (6'4"tall 300lbs) to our hotel that was only a few blocks away. It was scary and horrifying for us both. So that is stuck in my mind as I make our plans for this trip. Like I said, I am really excited to go but it makes me afraid to have even one drink while we're there and I'm worried about going to any strip clubs. This really sucks. :( I enjoy a nice romp with the dancers.
Today was the day I deleted my tinder. I have had it for a month or so now and decided to delete it. I have had no luck in my area and the people I did match with couldn't hold a conversation.
Not giving up that hope but it is really hard out there lol thank goodness this site is here so I don't go too crazy
It's the weirdest thing, but I don't cry when I'm sober.
Like...at all. Even when loved ones die. At least not genuinely.
I recognize that crying is a normal expression of emotion, but fuck if I'm subconsciously willing to do it without a few good slugs in me.
I just spent two hours with my eyes leaking. I don't know why I felt the compulsion to do it, but for whatever reason, I drank myself to a point where tears could flow freely. Now the head hurts a little, but the soul feels a little lighter.
There's nothing to talk about. No grand declaration of sorrow or stress.
I woke up feeling anxious. Worked all day with a feeling of anxiety. Came home, had several drinks, cried my eyes out at made up sob scenarios in my mind. Now I feel better.
Am I gonna talk it out with someone? Fuck no. Keep a stiff upper lip, soldier on, and never let them see you cry. Just cuz it's normal and natural, doesn't mean you have to shed that stone cold reputation.
Life sucks, Silo. Get right the fuck over it, and make it better, even if it kills you.
I have decided enough is enough.
If I'm not happy with myself or how my life is going, I need to stop moping about it and I need to change it.
I bought some new clothes today that aren't normally my style. Recently dyed my hair blonde and tonight I cut it and gave myself bangs, which I never do. I've been wearing make up more and damn, I just feel so much better about myself.
I'm a happier person dolling myself up, even if it's just for work or just for a few errands.
I feel so much better about myself, I have this new flood of confidence. I just feel so so good and it was such a little change.
The last few years have been a little tough to navigate through. With an empty nest to contemplate I knew that things had to change. Little did I know where those changes would lead.
The first changes I made were to begin to enjoy the relationship between myself and my DH more. Now we have more time to spend together i enjoyed every second of getting to know him a little more each day. I learned to be comfortable with just the two of us doing activities.
I still see a family with young children and pine for the days that I was just starting out with my family but it is a more comfortable place now than 2 years ago when I felt as though my right arm had been yanked off.
I went back to University to study my masters degree and only have 2 weeks of teaching left and then a dissertation and I will have a masters degree. Where I found the motivation to keep going I'm not really sure as it has been a hard year.
I feel now more at peace with my sexuality than I ever have. Lots of talking and thinking and overthinking and crying trying to make peace with myself has lead me to where I am now. I will say that every single tear and thought and discussion was absolutely worth it and I am happy. I am no longer pretending or trying to hide away desires from even myself. I am what I am and what I am needs no excuses - I finally understand the poignancy of these words!!
Do I have challenges - absolutely! Do I have things I need to work on - Yes. However I can see the path and journey needed now it is no longer crowded with clutter.
To top all this off I am moving in about 3 weeks to the other side of the country. A new job and a new life. New adventures.....I no longer feel I need to take over the world.....I just need to take over control of my world rather than just reacting to situations. I am now changing situations and am excited about everything the future has in store.
There is one lady in particular that I need to thank for her support every step of the way. She is the most patient, amazing, beautiful and inspirational woman I have known. She knows who she is although I'm not sure if she will see this. She has been there every step of the way with me through the journey over the last few years and she means more to me than she can possibly ever know.
Forgive my sudden intrusion. Re-entry is what this is. I joined many years in the past and have rolled, tumbled and endured gushing wounds along this path to self-acceptance. I wanted... perhaps, even, needed that bright, shiny label. I was so eager to uncap the pink, purple and blue marker and spell my name on a white, fat sticker that I could fix above my heart: bisexual, here!
I have learned that it's not so simple. I remember when I joined and I look back on the confusion, the fear, the titillation, the joy in finding others like me. I remember leaning over and looking down straight into the depths of my own uncertainty and wondering if it would be right to jump. And I did. I fell through darkness and light. Happiness and misery. I fell again, and again and again and again. And when I landed, and spat shattered teeth into my palm, I swore it was over for me. I swore that I would never venture outside of the neat little fence I set up for myself around this hut of isolation. It's too much trouble, I said, My heart can't take it. And yet...
Sometimes I miss the connection. I miss having a reason to check my phone early... when the birds first chatter their sweet songs, accompanying the slow birth of the morning sun. I miss inside jokes, texted in the late afternoon. I miss pictures of self, taken for one, and one alone. I miss sending something that, when opened, would bloom a brilliant smile across a sweet face. I miss being wanted, desired. I miss the anticipation of heart-bursting ecstasy, signified by a lopsided red circle on a kitchen calendar. I miss sifting through a pile of sappy nicknames. I miss pinning the ultimate love song to her lapel and smiling, feeling my heart beat hard enough to vibrate my chest whenever I would hear it. I miss remembering every wonderful, stupid little detail about her. Like her favorite brand of perfume. Or the first time she heard her favorite band live. I miss breathing out warm passion and hearing it echoed back, in perfect sync. I miss all that, and more. Damn it. Sometimes, in small and large ways... I really want a girlfriend again.
I have been meaning to write a new blog for a while and update things a bit haha My life has changed in so many ways since I first found this site and most of it for the better. The most obvious reason being I found a girl and fell in love. I suppose I should start at the beginning.
I am from a very small rural community that is conservative to the core. Not settling down and having babies is just not how things are done here. Struggling with feeling attractions to girls wasn't the norm.
See I was rejected for years. Never got asked out. Never got hit on. Finally dated a few guys after high school and it wasn't much. It was then I met my first gf. I was so starved for affection and attention that it didn't matter what hell she put me through because it was better than the alternative. This went on for a couple years until something terrible happened to me (I do not wish to add details). It cost me my job/career, what social circle I had and nearly took my sanity. I was immediately put on antidepressants and a mild sedative. With what I'd experienced the doctors thought it best to protect me from myself that way. About 6 months later I made the choice to stop it. I was shell of myself and I hated it. For me feeling nothing at all was worse than feeling bad. Throughout this time my gf stayed with me but her behavior didn't change. It was only at that point I realized that it was a toxic relationship. That I was only hurting myself by holding onto someone like her. Someone who wanted to use me for money and stability but couldn't be bothered to be faithful or even say a kind word most days. So I ended it. After that I started to pull my life back together. A close friend of mine started to show a romantic interest. I knew she was bi and she knew about me. She listened and supported me. She helped me through difficult times and even dropped the L word. Turns out she only wanted me for my body. This all left me with a bad taste for relationships. At that point I wanted to be alone.
I found a job and moved nearly 800 miles away. I worked hard and played harder. I did things just for myself. I went on a vacation for the first time in my life. I went skydiving and zip lining. I ran obstacle races and went dancing til the clubs shut down. And I did it all without a relationship. I found a sense of peace. I was starting to feel comfortable in my own skin for the first time in my life. Then there was the issue of my sexuality. Only my one brother (also bi as it turns out) knew about me. I was in a position where I could maybe explore my feelings and be a happier more open person. That's when I found shy's. Being able to read these forums and discuss topics that relate to so many things in my life was fantastic. It made me feel like I wasn't alone in how I dealt with my feelings. Then I met Rocky...
I was in the chatroom. No different than any other time. Except this night she was there. She was witty and funny and a riot to talk to. I decided to take a peek at her profile and be her friend. I thought she was an absolutely gorgeous and wonderful woman. A delightful soul that I very much enjoyed being around and chatting with. One day she put up a post. She said she felt useless and miserable. I reached out in a pm. I'd stood in those shoes before and I knew it's a dreadful place to be. So we began to talk and we've never stopped. My reaching out blossomed into something incredible. I'd been single for years at this point and I wasn't looking for it but I found love.
My dad's health had taken a turn and work was starting to dry up so I moved back home. That was almost 3 and a half years ago now. Since then my relationship with Rocky has grown. She has met most of my family and we have become engaged. To my family we were "friends" but It was during this past Christmas holiday while she was here that my mom decided to clear the air so to speak. She flat out asked if Rocky's family knew we were in an intimate relationship. It was an awkward discussion to say the least but now it's all out there. Most of my family know and are just fine with it. My one brother and dad are homophobic. At this point my my brother knows and had a meltdown when my mom accepted me without batting an eye. My dad does not nor do most friends and other family members. Being in such a small town makes it difficult but I prefer my private life to remain just that. Private.
To end this I would like to thank whoever reads all this to get to this point. I know it is long winded. Throughout my journey I have had this safe space to express myself. A place where I don't have to hide who I am and who I love. This site is an amazing source of support and I truely hope that those who are looking for it can find it here as I have.
The DC superhero Wonder Woman will soon be in the media spotlight as her first big screen motion picture opens on June 2nd. The movie, starring Gal Gadot has been a long time in coming as Wonder Woman was created by William Moulton Marston back in 1941. Last year marked the 75th anniversary of her creation and the occasion was celebrated by her being nominated as a ceremonial ambassador to the UN, a decision which was quickly overturned after a vigorous protest was organized by UN staff who objected to a fictional female superhero (created to be a role model for girls), being granted honorary status.
Lynda Carter and Gal Gadot (past and present actresses to portray Wonder Woman)
Wonder Woman was indeed a champion for the rights of women when she created by Marston and his inspiration came from the suffragettes and the first wave of feminism in 19th and early 20th century. One particular source was the literary work of feminist Charlotte Perkins Gilman (1860-1935) who was a lecturer, writer and champion of autonomy for women.
Her most known work is The Yellow Wallpaper, a short story about a woman who suffers emotional and mental breakdown as a result of a "rest-cure" prescribed by her doctor. The story mirrors Charlotte's experience with postpartum depression after the birth of her daughter when she was was subjected to "rest" which was in fact an emotionally damaging enforced isolation. After recovering Gilman began her life's work of being a champion for the equality of women and the necessity for women to be able to work outside the home.Quote
"The first duty of a human being is to assume the right functional relationship to society - more briefly, to find your real job, and do it."
Gilman also wrote acclaimed non-fiction as well including Women and Economics and The Home: It's Work and Influence which elaborated on the thesis that women remained severely undeveloped when confined to domestic toil within a home.Quote
"To work is not only a right, it is a duty. To work to the full capacity of one's powers is necessary for human development - the full use of one's best faculties - this is the health and happiness for both man and woman."
Charlotte Perkins Gilman
Gilman also wrote a trilogy of feminist utopian novels, and one in particular, Herland (1915) provided a setting that would be used to create the back story for Wonder Woman.
Herland was a speculative work of fiction that explored the possible nature of a society made up of only women and girls. The plot involves a group of 3 male explorers who discover a hidden plateau where a female-only society has been evolving separately from the rest of the world for over a thousand years. The women reproduce through parthogenesis, a type of asexual reproduction that is found in some species of fish, birds, amphibians and reptiles. The men are surprised to discover that Herland is advanced technologically and yet ecologically sustainable and that it's inhabitants are well-educated, healthy and happy. After a prolonged visit the men realize that Herland is a society that is superior to theirs in every possible way.Quote
"The children in this country are the one center and focus of all our thoughts. Every step of our advance is always considered in its effect on them — on the race. You see, we are MOTHERS,” she repeated, as if in that she had said it all." - from Herland
Herland is the inspiration for Wonder Woman's birth place and home - Paradise Island which is inhabited by only women who reproduce asexually. The story of Wonder Woman begins when a man, Steve Trevor is injured in a plane crash near Paradise Island and is rescued and brought back to health. Diana (Wonder Woman) falls in love with Trevor and travels back with him to help save the world from the Axis powers (the main concern in 1941), and other subsequent evils.
William Moulton Marston would have been very familiar with the works of Gilman and other feminists of the time because he was immersed in that world though his association with feminists. His childhood sweetheart and later wife Elizabeth Holloway, a psychologist and attorney, exemplified the liberated woman who achieved success outside of the home. Marston's mistress Olive Byrne was the niece of Margaret Sanger, the radical feminist who championed the birth-control movement in the US and founded the organization that would evolve into Planned Parenthood. Her mother Ethyl Byrne was also a radical feminist who championed for the same causes as her sister Margaret.
Holloway and Byrne contributed to Wonder Woman both inspirationally and creatively; they provided advice and details about plots and dialog and it was Olive's article written for Family Circle in 1940 about Marston's views on the morality of comic books that caught the attention of M.C. Gaines, publisher of Superman. Gaines would go on to hire Marston as a consultant and then as writer for a new female superhero, Wonder Woman. She was conceived to be an inspiration for girls - she would be strong like Superman, but she would combine the use of that strength with wisdom and love. The comic was immediately popular and became one of DC comics most successful during the 1940s.
Marston's work as a Phd Psychologist also informed a belief in the goals of feminism, which he believed were important for improving the world. The quotes below reveal how his ideas closely reflect the feminism of Charlotte Perkins Gilman.Quote
“The truest kindness to any woman is to provide her with an opportunity for self-expression in some constructive field: to work, not at home with cook-stove and scrubbing brush, but outside, independently, in the world of men and affairs.”Quote
“The only hope for civilization is the greater freedom, development and equality of women.”Quote
"Frankly, Wonder Woman is psychological propaganda for the new type of woman who should, I believe, rule the world."
Marston also had quite radical ideas, especially for the time, about women's sexuality. In his book Wonder Woman: Bondage and Feminism in the Marston/Peter [the illustrator] Comics 1941-1948 Noah Berlatsky summarizes Marston's views:Quote
"...he devotes a whole subheading of Emotions of Normal People, titled “Women’s Passion,” to expounding on the commonness, normality, and general pleasantness of lesbian relationships. He starts by asserting that “nearly half of the female love relationships concerning which significant data could be obtained, were accompanied by bodily love stimulation” (Emotions 338). While it’s difficult to parse this statement precisely (is he actually saying that half of all female friendships involve lesbian sex?), it’s clear that female-female attraction is not, for him, a minority identity but is instead a potential available to, and enjoyed by, a very large number of women."
Many people find a lesbian subtext in the early Wonder Women comics and recently DC comics announced that Wonder Woman is canonically bisexual (see blog post Fluid Icons). Lesbianism was also present in Marston's unconventional family life. Byrne, who met Marston while attending university was invited to live with the couple to ostensibly raise their children so that Elizabeth could continue her career without interruption. Their relationship became polyamorous, including sex between the women and Olive would go on to have two children of her own with Marston.
Another woman, Marjorie Wilkes Huntley, was also considered part of the family, although she did not live permanently with the Marstons; when Huntley resided at the home the threesome became a foursome. The complicated Marston relationships were a radical solution for building a family aligned with the goals of feminism - to allow Elizabeth Holloway to fulfill her full potential as a gifted attorney without having to sacrifice having her own children. Olive Byrne fulfilled her great talent and ambition to be an exceptional mother and she with Elizabeth allowed William to fulfill his potential in creating a superhero icon for women's rights that would have a significant and persisting impact on society. There was more, though, to their family structure than vocational goals - there was a deliberate attempt made to fulfill the women's sexual potential, which included having have sex with other women.
Marsten family photograph (1947) - Standing: Byrne Marston, Moulton (Pete) Marston, Olive Byrne Seated: Marjorie Wilkes Huntley, Olive Ann Marston. William Moulton Marston, Donn Marston, Elizabeth Holloway Marston
[Olive's children are Byrne and Donn; Elizabeth's children are Olive Ann and Pete]
After William's premature death in 1947 (he was only 54) DC Comics hired another writer to continue Wonder Women stories but she drifted away from the feminist roots that Marston, Holloway and Byrne had planted and she became an unrecognizable shadow of her former self during the 1950s and 1960s. She was transformed into a figure that conformed to the status quo rather than one that championed for change.
Holloway and Byrne remained together as a couple for the next 33 years until Byrne's death in 1980.
In 1972 Gloria Steinem, who read Wonder Woman comics while growing up, chose her to be on the cover of the premier issue of Ms. Magazine thereby linking the 2nd wave of feminism of the 1970s to the 1st wave of the early 1900s. On Wonder Woman, Steinem is quoted as saying:Quote
"Wonder Woman's family of Amazons on Paradise Island, her band of college girls in America, and her efforts to save individual women are all welcome examples of women working together and caring about each other's welfare. The idea of such cooperation may not seem particularly revolutionary to the male reader. Men are routinely depicted as working well together, but women know how rare and therefore exhilarating the idea of sisterhood really is. Wonder Woman's mother, Queen Hippolyte, offers yet another welcome example to young girls in search of a strong identity. Queen Hippolyte founds nations, wages war to protect Paradise Island, and sends her daughter off to fight the forces of evil in the world... Wonder Woman symbolizes many of the values of the women's culture that feminists are now trying to introduce into the mainstream: strength and self-reliance for women; sisterhood and mutual support among women; peacefulness and esteem for human life; a diminishment both of "masculine" aggression and of the belief that violence is the only way of solving conflicts."
In addition to the upcoming release of Wonder Woman there is a movie scheduled for release later in 2017 titled Professor Marston & the Wonder Women which will detail his unconventional life and the creation of Wonder Woman. It will be interesting to see if the full extent of the domestic and romantic arrangements that Marston, Holloway and Byrne lived with will be depicted in the movie. They were way ahead of their time socially and perhaps their free polyamorous bisexual lifestyle is still too risqué to portray even in our supposedly progressive and tolerant era.
Melody Hour - Louis Icart
Charlotte Perkins Gilman http:// https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charlotte_Perkins_Gilman
Herland, by Carlotte Perkins Gilmanhttp:// http://www.gutenberg.org/files/32/32-h/32-h.htm [Many of Charlotte's written works are available for free at gutenberg as they are 100 years old, or older] An online version is available at: http://hilobrow.com/2013/07/16/herland-1/
In addition, excellent audiobook versions are availble at youtube https://youtu.be/WJtrW-26NdI and Librivox http:// https://librivox.org/herland-by-charlotte-perkins-gilman/
On the Cliff (1910) - Charles Courtney Curran [1861 - 1942]
The Last Amazon: Wonder Woman returns by Jill Lapore http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2014/09/22/last-amazon
One less woman in politics: Wonder Woman loses job as UN ambassador https://www.theguardian.com/world/2016/dec/12/wonder-woman-un-ambassador-gender-equality
Production Begins on Angela Robinson’s “Professor Marston and the Wonder Women” https://blog.womenandhollywood.com/production-begins-on-angela-robinsons-professor-marston-and-the-wonder-women-5f791bbcdd3
The Secret History of Wonder Woman by Jill Lapore https://www.amazon.com/Secret-History-Wonder-Woman/dp/0804173400 [This excellent book focuses on the lives of the people who created Wonder Woman and those who influenced them. Highly reccomeded]
The Surprising Origin Story of Wonder Woman by Jill Lepore http://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/origin-story-wonder-woman-180952710/
Wonder Woman: Bondage and Feminism in the Marston/Peter Comics 1941-1948 by Noah Berlatsky https://www.amazon.com/Wonder-Woman-Bondage-Feminism-1941-1948/dp/0813564182 [Another excellent book that focuses on and analyses the content of the comics themselves]
Wonder Women of History http:// http://womanwondrous.juliamichels.net/wonder-women-of-history/ [Included in every issue of the early Wonder Woman comics was a quite elaborate (for comics) mini-story about a famous and/or important woman from the past. This is a list of each person chosen.
Bound to Blog - The Hooded Utilitarian http://www.hoodedutilitarian.com/2009/04/bound-to-blog-wonder-woman-1/ [This is a blog by Noah Berlatsky in which he blogs an in-depth analysis of every issue of the early Marston/Peter Wonder Woman No.1-28, Recommended if you are a nerd or fascinated by the feminist vision of Marston]
Hi Shybi Family!!!!!!!
I am sure many women have been in enough relationships regardless of sex (hopefully more than one) to be able to decipher when a person's interactions with us means us good or harm. Today, I'd like to talk about we women being jaded (fooled) by politeness. A politeness so complimentary, nice, so disarming..................it sets you up to be betrayed.
I have had been a victim of "politeness," disguised in many forms a few times in my life............by men and women. In terms of men.............it's the general scenarios where you meet some "nice" guy who's good looking, charming, charismatic................saying all the right things to get you. Whether it's to get into your pants or get your hand in marriage...........the guy clearly has an agenda (as you see later in the relationship). After sometime in the relationship you learn this person really isn't nice perhaps. Sometimes you learn the guy is a creep/pervert/sex addict. Sometimes you learn the guy lured you in for nothing more to take his mother' place in being his glorified maid, housekeeper, bed wench. Sometimes you learn the guy simply likes to control people.............you took the bait so you're it. Maybe he has mental health issues. A guy with multiple personalities, maybe he was bipolar or schizophrenic and on his meds when you met him...................polite and kind. He turned into a monster without them. Where oh where did that polite person go you ask yourself many a days. In any event, we end up in bad relationships with men sometimes because of their insincere politeness. Books have been written about men and their shenanigans. But it's the women that I would like to focus on right now.
These same scenarios can take place regardless of sex. Politeness is a form of diplomacy..........easily disguised to ensnare an unsuspecting victim for personal gains.
I have been straight jacked by some women in my life. I've also seen how we can turn our politeness on and off when it suits our needs. I've seen women use politeness to disarm and conduct absolutely stunning acts of betrayal. Like a high school best friend sleeping with my husband and sharing all of my personal secrets with him...............enabling him to come back and use them against me. Friends all throughout high school and she commits the ultimate betrayal. The same thing happened with another really good friend I helped a lot riding her around town in my car, having her at my home, breaking bread with her, even partying with her. She was nice, kind, mild, not the brightest apple in the barrel....................but she was smart enough, cunning enough, polite enough for me to allow her into my small circle to screw my boyfriend and fuck up my otherwise nice relationship. Nice right!
I did all the things I was supposed to be, or so I thought. I was kind to someone that showed kindness. I was polite to people who were polite to me. I shared with people that shared with me...............I thought I had a firm grasp on protecting myself from being betrayed. Stabbed in the back. Pushed from behind by a ride-or-die friend or love. I was wrong. Being jaded by a woman can even be more difficult to get over than a man. We are supposed to have this invisible "sisterhood," regardless of age, sexual orientation, or ethnicity. We know how it feels to be poo poo'd on. We all have the horrible let down stories by friends and loved ones. But as a woman I must admit, being jaded and cut deep by a woman is so much more painful. Because most of us are sensitive, nurturing beings, it's almost inconceivable that a woman you're in love with could:
- Be Abusive (Physically, Emotionally, Sexually)
- Be Deceitful /Deceptive
- Act Selfishly, or
- Use Sex and Kindness as Weapons for Behavior Modification
Yes my friends...............we women can be some ugly critters at times. If you haven't had the experience yet, count it as a blessing. If you have................I hope you have healed and moved on. I say all this to say that as women, we must be careful to not be jaded by politeness or early expressions of love. Sometimes when someone is being overly polite, there are motives to betray us. When people are about to screw you over, they aren't usually mean which would give us a heads up. They are generally nice to you, to get you to drop your guard before they stick you in your ass with a pitchfork. It's a form of manipulation. For women, it's a manipulation we women have been labeled with since the beginning of time.............back to Adam and Eve (for the religious). So ladies..............as you embark on your lady love journeys, be wise. How do you prevent being jaded by a new love or acquaintance (but can apply to anyone in general):
- Self-Awareness (Be Aware): Be aware of conversational moods. One minute you have red flags going off all over the place and hairs standing up on the back of your necks. Pay attention to people and their sudden or renewed interest in you. It's likely not you, it could be what you bring to the table. Over-politeness is often difficult to detect when meeting new people, so go with your gut.
We women can be mean, vindictive, cruel, selfish, manipulative human beings. We can also be kind, beautiful, caring, compassionate, loving, attentive human beings. As we go throughout our lives experimenting, searching and finding love, and when it's not right for us...........letting go, please be go into (and out of) any and all relationships (casual, committed, or otherwise) with a do no harm perspective. Leave the woman (or women) in your lives better than you found them.
Ladies, don't take her kindness for weakness. But the most important take away is to not allow another to disarm you, leaving you open to wounds.
Have a wonderful week!