health, life, love, mind, psychology, relationships

Depression, Anxiety, Self-Acceptance and Unwillingness to Change

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I am learning to accept myself the way I am. I see my therapist twice a week. I know better now.

  • I am unwilling to change, – I am beautiful the way I am. A few extra pounds mean a sexy curvy body, drinking is a way of relaxation, cleaning, cooking, and attending to males’ needs sound like relentless abuse and male privilege. You gotta realize I won’t allow you to take advantage of me any longer.

 

  • You should accept me for who I am, – I am not bending to anyone’s needs, just take it or leave it. You have problems? You are not a little boy, I am not your mommy, find ways to deal with your stress.

 

  • You cannot judge me, you have no idea what I went through – you should be empathetic, respectful, and caring, you should be here for me when I need it; otherwise, I have nothing to do with you.

 

  • You gotta earn the privilege of being with me. You are the luckiest person in the world since I am here for you, love me the way I am. Like I previously said, do not try to change anything, it is not going to happen, – if you prefer a sex-appealing calorie-counting chick who substitutes dinners for gym workouts, do it, I will get over it, I deserve the real man.

 

  • You gotta change diapers, stay up all night, and spend weekends grocery shopping, cooking and cleaning. Relationship is partnership, don’t you know? And yes, this is your kid too, learn to combine your 60-hour week work schedule with being the father. You can’t? I am done with being exploited, I am leaving.

 

  • I am strong and independent, – your attempt to turn me into an underweight stay-home sperm dumpster is abuse and domestic violence. My therapist told me this, like I said, I see her twice a week.

 

  • Are you horny? Seriously? I am not an object, I deserve to be valued for my beautiful heart and soul, – watching porn at night and looking at other women is not acceptable. I am not swallowing sperm and disrespect. I am leaving now, you will regret.

 

  • The day you got me a new vacuum cleaner and a multifunctional blender was the final drop in the bucket. I am not putting up with your power and control issues any longer. My attorney will contact you as regards child support and alimony.

 

  • It is really hard to find a really nice guy, but I will I know. While looking for the prince charming, I will keep mixing alcohol with anti-depressants and anxiolytics. I will keep soothing my depression and anxiety with prime rib, tears, and cheesecake around my slightly obese, slightly depressive, and slightly anxious girlfriends.

 

Like I stated before, I gotta accept myself the way I am, I am not willing to change, I see my therapist twice a week, I know better now.

kinky, life, love

Labeling, Stereotyping, Stigma

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– Vixen, I am so glad you dumped Jim, – Dave looked comfy and concerned, white and soft sweatshirt, bleached smile, and smell of quality perfume. – Wealthy guys are screwed up, your Jim has serious mental health issues.

I was in the middle of cutting my veggies for a green smoothie. His words caught me off guard, I froze with a kitchen knife in my hand staring stupidly at a cucumber on the cutting board.  I was offended. I hated and loved Jim at the same time; he used to be part of my life. Dave was nothing, just a nicely smelling dandy in Gucci outfit who tried to stick his nose where it does not belong.

What about yourself?  – I breathed out and proceeded chopping the cucumber.

 – What about me, honey?

 – You are wealthy.

 – I am not one of the freaks you used to be with, I value my soul over money. I would rather be in a forest than the Ritz Carlton. I have always been like this.

 – Who told you Jim uses Ritz?

 – Are you defending him?

 – I am not discussing him with you.

 – Why? I thought you trust me.

 – Dave, please…. Mind your own business

He had a fancy blender, perfect for smoothies and veggie soups. I took the lid off ready to put the cucumber in and felt Dave with my back.

 – You are in my house, and you are teaching me how to behave, – his voice got suddenly low and ice-cold. I shrugged my shoulders not bothering to turn around.

 – You gotta understand Vixen, I will do anything to please you, but you should be respectful and open.

 – Ok, – I reached for a tomato, he was still standing behind. “His blender is big and multi-functional, I want it, maybe I should ask him to give it to me… ”. The thought was kinda weird given that Dave seemed to be quite disappointed. Asking him was for anything at this point would be a waste of time.

 – I am talking to you, Vixen. Stop cutting your rabbit food and look at me.

I slowly turned, my irritation was growing. He gave my food a weird name. Jim loved my vegan dishes and always supported the idea to write a recipe book.  Dave made fun of all my efforts to make money. He considered me way too immature for it.

What do you want from me, Dave?  – he was too close, his perfume was too strong, chokingly strong. I felt sick to my stomach.

 – Your Jim wanted you to kiss his feet. It is sick.

 – It is hot. I am a sub, I loved it.

 – It is sick. You are sick too, Vixen. You need therapy, I will take care of it.

 – It is kinky, our kinks matched, the only thing that kept us together for a while. It is over now. Let’s change the subject.

 – You need help.

 – May I finish fixing my rabbit food?

 – Of course, – he stepped away, I added the rest of veggies into the cup and turned the blender on.

My hysterical reaction seemed to make him realize that not all my boundaries can be violated. He was too judgmental and too stuck in his perceptions of the reality. He divided this world into black and white and frowned at any other colors. He called me later, apologetic and regretful that I left too early. But I needed to leave, I needed my personal space to deal with his judgmental attitudes and condescending demeanor.

I came home with his blender that day.

life

My Lover Versus my New Date

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Dave and I met through Heather. He told me I am unique and invited me out.

 – I am very selective about people I communicate with, but meeting you is not an accident. You are truly an angel, an incredible lady. I would like to learn more about you.

 – Ok, – after breaking up with Jim I felt kinda bored and scheduled the date between my dental appointment and picking up my son from his sitter.

Dave specialized in finance and executive management, owned several healthcare companies, and did consulting. He was into yoga and Buddhism, had a bleached smile, a pleasant demeanor, and smelled like expensive perfume.

 – Go out and have fun, maybe it is the match, and you will finally move to a big house and sleep 12 hours daily, – Heather was persuasive. She wanted me to marry someone established, I wanted passion, affection, and a firm big cock.   

 – Ok, ok, I will go

I showed up right after taking care of my tooth, still numb from the anesthetic, unable to move the right side of my face. Dave laughed at my asymmetric smile and gave me a hug. He looked fit and open. The waiter brought his cappuccino with my water and dessert. I took a bite of the cherry-oats cookie and closed my eyes turning my face to the evening sun.

He came from the family of lawyers, graduated from law school, but found the court system too aggressive and went into finance.

 – Hun, I became a multimillionaire when I turned 40. And still am. But it took time to realize that money do not bring true happiness, – he presented as sophisticated and classy.

I offered him to bite off my cookie, he politely refused with the yikes expression on his face.

Greg would eat the whole piece and would lick the crumbs off my fingers. But Greg was not a purebred lawyer with multi-millions in savings and refined manners. He was just a surgeon, extremely traumatized by his childhood and locked in his own shell.

 – I had a fantastic childhood, we never lived in unsafe areas, always upscale communities, I have never needed anything, never been fired, never struggled financially, but if my friends need help, they can always stop by to fish, to play golf, and to relax. I teach them to see beyond their capacity. Ultimate fun and ultimate grief are just passing waves in the ocean. Highs and lows. But we are not the waves, we are the ocean, this is what people need to realize, – I kept nodding pretending that I was listening. He was elegantly snobbish, knowledgeable of the Eastern philosophy, and extremely polite, which was nice and very asexual.

Greg would put his hand under my skirt checking if I had my panties on. I would blush at his horny look, feeling embarrassed, insulted, and sexually aroused.

 – I am one of few who believes in chivalry luv, I will always treat you with respect. I will never ask for an explicit picture, it is disgusting what some people do today, – Dave kept speaking, I kept feeling bored.

Greg craved for my naked photos, “I want a picture of your pussy, I will jerk off tonight”. He was blunt, I was compliant. His straightforwardness was naïve, intimidating, and hot.

Dave was descent, well-mannered, and cold. There was no click, no chemistry, nothing.

He asked me a bunch of questions about my past, I responded watching the shock on his face; his fancy mind could not grasp the story of being homeless. Greg could understand, he was a mongrel like myself.

He took me to my vehicle asking when we would meet the next time. I gave him a smile and blocked his phone number later that night.

 – He can make you happy, he is stable, single, generous, what else do you want? – Heather was mad, I did not care.

She was right though, he was stable, even-minded, and emotionally healthy. He was raised in love and had been carrying the feeling of safety throughout his life. I was not ready for a man like this.

Greg used me as a stress reliever, making love to him was awesome. Sex was the only way for him to express himself without hiding behind the introversion. He threw at me fireworks of emotion, I was always receptive and thankful. His mind could flip quickly getting him from 0 to 100, and from 100 to 0, he instantly shifted from being sexually aggressive to cold and disinterested. His attitude was unhealthy, draining, disrespectful, and very enticing. I needed that roller-coaster. I loved it. We were both traumatized by the past, we did not have the inner safety and security that Dave attained as a child in his happy family.

I felt happy for Dave and very grateful to have Greg in my life.

 

love

Slut, Escort Girl, Difference

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         Jim says I am slutty, – I stretched in the chaise lounge, turned my face towards the sunset, and closed my eyes. Big swimming pool area, evening quietness, and warm jasmine tea added coziness to Heather’s new house. She had a great taste for places and for males; the house was chic, the boyfriend was established, generous, and always far away. My attempts to find someone to take care of me kept ending up in an emergency room with a nervous breakdown. Heather was a professional. She mercilessly drained the pockets prior moving on to a wealthier penis.
 
           Does it bother you, Vixen?
          I do not care
          It bothers me though, –  her pensiveness surprised me, I had never observed anything like this about her before.
          Why does it bother you?
          A man is calling you a whore, and you do not care? Really?, – the melancholy in her voice sounded ridiculous; an escort girl was trying to teach old-school morals. I was doing my best not to laugh in her face.
          Excuse my French, friend, aren’t you f*cking for money?
          Escort is different from being a slut, – her response was firm and assertive, – escort is a job, it has nothing to do with being promiscuous
          I have feelings for more than one person,  – I breathed in the serenity of the Florida evening and continued, – If the societal matrix supports monogamous possessiveness, it is not my problem. No one is gonna tell me how many people I should fall for, and how I should feel if I love more than one guy or one girl. By the way, I am bisexual, are you going to lecture me on this as well?
          Vixen, there is a difference between a slut and an escort girl. They pay well to see me, and you are a free cum dumpster for them. I have a high-paying job, and you waste yourself on your Greg or Jim, or um… what was the name of that crazy guy who jerks off in the on-call room, Andrew?
          Adam, we are just friends
          Right, – her sarcasm did not annoy me. The evening was too quiet and refreshing to get upset or angry.  – I would be offended if someone called me a slut, and you do not care. This is what bothers me.
          Heather, – I burst into laughter, – Heather, my dear, have you ever been in love?
          Not yet, are you making fun of me? – she got angry, her iron self-control was crushing   
          Actually yes, what you are saying is funny, and you are hypocritical, and…. and callous, yep. both hypocritical and callous
          What do you mean?
          Do you have feelings for Greg?
          No, nothing, it was just a side job, I thought we already discussed it.
          Did you have any feelings for me? You knew I love him, you knew -I knew that he will pay you to f*ck him that weekend. And you still went with him. Do you think it may cause me pain?
          Were you in pain, Vixen?
          No, it did not bother me much. Do you have any feelings for me? You state I am your best friend.
          You know, – she paused, looking into nowhere, – I felt disgust, he was on the phone texting you right after I gave him a blowjob. You deserve someone better.
          OK, you are not callous, only hypocritical. You sleep with all these guys, and state that you are not promiscuous.
          Like I said, it is just a job.
          The difference is, Heather, – I was wiping away the tears of laughter, – the difference is that I build my life on feelings. I can open up or entirely freeze, I can laugh or suffer, but I do not go to bed with someone who disgusts me, I do not communicate with disgusting people. You have to deal with people you consider horrible, you do it cold-heartedly, you rationalize it. And you worry what other people say. The word “slut” really bothers you. I do not care, you do. I feel – you do not allow yourself to feel. I live – You hide behind the gated community. I do not need friends, I am happy by myself and with myself – You hate being alone, otherwise you would not have invited me over after having sex with someone I love.
 
She was looking through me, she obviously was not happy that she had started this conversation.
         
         –  Heather, I do not see any difference between a slut and an escort girl. All I see is a difference between you and me. Now, let’s go inside, it is getting chilly.
          Yes, yes, – she was relieved to finish our discussion. She looked sad, I felt sorry for her.
  
life, love

Escort Girl, Greg, Meeting in Cheretto

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I love Cheretto, it is quietly private, insanely upscale, and extremely elitist. I love its snobby atmosphere, dim lighting, and hidden but obvious discrimination by status, income, and power. Open for members only. The application for the membership gets politely denied with a seemingly valid and politically correct reason after 3 to 5 years of being on the waiting list. The reminiscent of a library décor, comfy leather seating, and highly maintained and beautifully fit females, quietly waiting for their partners to finish lunch-and-laptop break. It is very safe and relaxing here in the atmosphere of dominance, exclusivity, and selective privilege. Mike got me the membership long ago. A weed among purebreds, I always feel happy to pause my crazy squirrel-cage-run and immerse in a different reality, in the world of veneer smiles and private jets.
 
I was enjoying my loneliness and sparkling lemon water, when I heard Heather’s laughter. I looked up, I saw her and Greg at the bar. My first thought was “Cheretto is getting cheap, how could they possibly allow someone in scrubs here?” But he was with my Heather, who had the membership through one of her sugar daddies. They were talking, she was laughing, white tight shirt on her perfect boob-job. She was stunning as usual.
 
Surprisingly, I felt nothing. His scrubs just bothered me, that place was way too refined for his stupid hospital uniform. Heather finally turned around, our eyes met. I watched her hurriedly leaning in close to him; I could imagine what she was whispering in his ear, since he turned around as well and waved at me. I waved back and shifted my gaze to the lemon water. I knew she would come to my table. I felt her presume as she sat down and gave me a hug.
 
          Hi Vixen
          Hi, – I kept staring at the bubbly water in my glass
          Vixen
          What?
          You gotta understand, it is just a job
I reluctantly glanced up at her face. She looked worried and sincerely concerned.  
          He is a greedy shit-heard, your words, Heather
          Correct,  – she had to lower her voice since Greg kept staring at us from the bar area, – but he offered a great allowance this weekend
          Heather, – The lemon water was ice-cold and caused a sharp pain in the both temples, – he is just a surgeon, you are way too expensive for this. When did you break up with your Tokyo guy?
          I did not break up with him, Greg is just a side-job. And yes, he is cheap and cannot afford me, he just wanted to spend one weekend, the pay is good, and I agreed. It’s only business
          I see
          Are you mad? Are we still friends? You are my best friend, Vixen
          Do me a favor
          Anything
          Do not take him here any more, this is the only place where I feel safe and happy, don’t ruin it
          I won’t I promise. He will pay, and we will leave
          Ok
          Vixen
          What?
          Are we still friends?
          You gotta go, he is waiting, I know Greg, he won’t pay for the time you are here with me
          Are we still friends? – her bitchy upscale gloss was gone, she looked helplessly crappy, I felt disgusted
          Go
 
They left quietly and quickly. That night I got his text. “I am in bed with a call girl, thinking about f*cking you from behind” . I deleted the message and turned the TV on.