Oh, please don't stop. It hasn't dragged on too long at all. I like to pop over here to chat every so often, so I guess that makes it seem longer to get to the story.
I know that hearing about those dark times would really help me, especially the parts about the meaningless sex - which you can talk about doing without being looked down on because your body was male at the time and you did it under the auspices of that male privilege to do what you want - yet you have the perspective of how it makes you feel inside because of really being a woman. On the whole, women can't talk about how it makes them feel inside, because... well it seems like you can't really talk about it at all without being shunned and despised and the pinning on of your scarlet letter. But what if that is eating somebody's heart out every day?
I would like to know how you found peace if you have - how you made peace with yourself. Although I am coming to see that even promiscuity is relative to the point of view of the beholder and most women have a past somewhat similar to mine. So why can't we talk about that? Why do the surveys of what is a normal amount of partners for women say 2-4 men in a lifetime? What a load of horseshit!! But why can't we talk about that? I felt like a freak - a dirty freak - even though as I said the number of people I'd been with and the circumstances surrounding it were not that different from the person labeling me that I could see. So why do women feel like they have to lie?
I'm so glad I haven't upset you. I hope you don't mind me posting chatty bits on here as well. I am a bit of a chatterbox, I'm afraid. I love people. That's what my ex-partner never understood - that I didn't go out to "meet men" I went out to meet people. He always discounted the women I met, which I thought even then was unfair. Like if I made a female friend on the message board and met her in real life, how much fun we had together, and how much those relationships meant to me.
And I also couldn't get him to understand that whole charming/weaving spell over them thing because I didn't understand it myself. He would characterise it as "flirting" or "vibing" which didn't fit properly for a woman so he just discounted it apart from taking a kind of sexual interest in the fact that I found women attractive. But to call it either of those is simply not accurate because if I was physically attracted to somebody I didn't go up to them and do the spell weaving thing - it generally just made me nervous.
But I had three gifts in life - well, what I thought of as gifts. One was to see people and let them know they've been seen. One was to know the worst of someone, accept it, and work around it. The other one sounds silly, but it was kind of just to shine on people. When I was a Christian I thought that I had a "ministry of smiles", but just to look at someone and smile at them. I felt I was making a difference in people's lives. My real life name means "a star" and the whole "shine" thing was very essential to who I was.
One time I was considering joining a group of Hash House Harriers and they were trying to think of what my new name would be. Everyone there has to have a funny nickname - like "Fellatrix" who got her nickname because she made the mistake of saying, "I hate going up hills but I don't mind going down on them". Lol! Anyway, I almost got called "Naked without my handbag" because a friend had told me that if you put anything down, like a cap, somebody would swipe it, and it might turn up again years later - they always had those sorts of pranks going on. So I always kept tight to my handbag and I wouldn't put it down. So somebody asked me about it and that's how I almost got that nickname - I said, "Oh, no. I feel naked without my handbag!" I didn't mind that one too much, but another one they were contemplating was the opposite of star - and that one really upset me because I identified so much with the whole shining star idea.
Yes, I am learning so much from Sallydannce and from Free to shine and from you. I've never talked to women before who have had similar experiences and can recognise them in others. I have some really good girlfriends, and they might have experienced some form of economic abuse - like one girlfriend was earning most of the money and he was gambling it away and running up debt on their mortgage unbeknownst to her while insisting on managing the money. So that was kind of a mild form of it, but they were comfortable and mostly quite good friends at least until they broke up and each found people that suited them better. I guess that friend did have a very abusive boyfriend as a teenager, but that was so long ago. Anyhow, this has been the first time I've met other women who can see and hold up the mirror and say look at what it is. I am incredibly lucky to have that, but I wish I had met them way earlier in my life. Only I wish that no woman ever had to go through that. I don't know if we could or would grow without it, but I do think growing is over-rated personally except for when you see the results in others. Then you go, "wow," and marvel at the wisdom.
I am trying to put everything behind me. My anxiety is really increasing the closer I get to this trip to pick up my stuff. My psychology lecturer said yesterday that he thought I should be on anti-depressants but he did agree that even if I started today it would take weeks to kick in and be too late for this semester. I am anxious about that also. My lecturers couldn't have been kinder, but the anxiety wells up quite often these days between those things. I'm starting to think I've made a terrible mistake in booking the tickets and accommodation. I just felt so driven for closure before.
You are such a mentor for me. One thing I take away from everything you write is that I wish I had appreciated being a woman more, having a female body, having the opportunities I have had. So many things to be grateful for taken so much for granted. You are making me realise how very special all of that is. How special we are as women. How special we are as people.
Have a wonderful day, Denise.
Much love,
Purple