Hello Coco : A diary

Tag: Mental Health

  • Polyamory & The Polycule: My Complications

    I went on a date this morning with a man that asked me, “So, how long have you been in the lifestyle?”


    I felt a little embarrassment for sharing that I was quite new to it, I think for fear of being perceived as inexperienced and thus maybe too much work – too complicated.


    That probably stems a little from a guy earlier this year who vetoed our friends with benefits set-up due to the fact I haven’t had much sex with men for 7 years considering I was in a relationship with a woman for a long while. It got too ‘complicated’. In fact, the observations of most men when I tell them this is generally hesitation.


    I can understand that in a certain lens of him knowing exactly he wanted. He wanted a girl that could deep-throat his dick (mind you, it is large) and I wasn’t up for the job, at least not at that time. I was just re-learning how to give a blow job again – hello.


    I understand Polyamory is a whole other beast than learning how to move past your gag reflex and learning sex with men again, but the common theme for me these past 5 months has been ‘inexperience’, so admitting to another one gave me the cringe as I told him the truth.


    We had spent hours talking; casually looping in details of our current partners, sexual needs, and other tidbits of ‘lifestyle’ information that would help determine our compatibility.


    It occurred to me as we were talking that finding another partner to join this ‘Polycule’ I stumbled into wouldn’t be easy business. Not only do I need to find them attractive, communicative, and emotionally aware but they needed to be vetted by basically everyone in my current polycule based on STI results, status, and at a frequency that is relative to any additional sexual partners that come into play.


    This guy told me he has his wife, one woman that travels into town once a month, and could seek an additional partner outside of me if we moved forward. His wife is also seeking partners. That is 3+ people I would be adding in, just to hook up with this one guy regularly.


    On top of that he shared his wife has herpes flare ups (tested positive). Which means that I would of course need to relay that to the entire team – yes, that’s what I’m calling them now- and get their stamp of approval first.

    This is nothing like what I was doing in the beginning of the year meeting guys on Tinder and just hooking up with them. It was a very dangerous and I’m lucky I came out of it clean, but I did very minimal work compared to this. I also had very limited emotional connection, communication, and genuine intimacy with those men.


    I would never go back there, but I’m really just starting to process through exactly what I got myself into.


    When the date ended I walked away feeling more overwhelmed and confused. He checked the boxes of attractiveness, communicative, and emotionally aware however the multiple partners, FWB attitude, and his wife’s results made me think, “oh my god, is this too complicated?”


    I’m sitting here reflecting on this inexperience complex thinking sad about how I might be too complicated for others while also considering the same for him being too much. I realize in this moment that it really isn’t about me – other people’s version of ‘complicated’. It’s their emotional and physical bandwidth. How much are we willing to give? Is it worth it? What is the fucking ROI here?


    Perhaps the deep-throat guy was like, “if this is too much for her, maybe my other needs won’t be met.” If someone was to not want to move forward with me because my inexperience of polyamory it could be that they don’t have the mental space to walk through it, perhaps they just got out of a similar situation and it was draining. Perhaps they have an insecurity of committing for someone to realize the lifestyle isn’t for them?


    I’m sitting here thinking about my date in a similar, but opposite way, “This is a big commit for me when I’m already going through so much and I just got into this other relationship a month ago. It might be too soon to consider complicating things further.”


    My date texted me just a moment ago saying he had such a nice time and how he was hoping to kiss me, but couldn’t read it. Why do I feel guilty? As If I’m letting down the world by sharing my feelings.


    I’ve been asked on many dates in the last few months and have exercised all sorts of no’s like, “I’m seeing someone”, “I’m not dating right now”, “I’m moving in a year” – I’ve had clear and easy outs that would make anyone say – “yeah that makes sense”.


    Not to say my reason, that I can’t handle something like this right now, doesn’t make sense, but that it’s a new one for me and giving that reason when I’ve heard it a few times this last few months makes me nervous to make the other person feel the way I did. Complicated.

  • Rewiring Past Decisions: My 40-hour+ Work Week

    I’ve noticed as of late that my job holds little in my brain for debate considering it gives me stability in the world we live in today. I have a mountain of debt as well that keeps me tied to it in a way that feels a little repressive. With that, very slight sour feelings arise when I think of my job and the pressures they entail. I’ve noticed when I ask myself about it, I want to clam up a bit because I don’t feel like I have an option to debate right now.

    I’m making big decisions in my life right now regarding the possibility of moving out of state, my sexuality, and lots of other personal life choices, but this is something I find myself avoiding more often than not. I’ve let myself do it too and in this moment I feel the courage to see it head on even if just for this post at first.

    Being in Recruiting, my value is held by metrics of how quickly I can close jobs and how happy I can make my hiring managers in the process. Being that recruiting is a people business – candidates are half the equation – it can be unreliable, yet we still feel the brunt of the deadline regardless of that variability.

    I’ve been doing my line of work since I moved here in 2017, though in various settings and angles. It was the first job that offered enough money to eat more than Rice-a-Roni and PBJ sandwhiches. I clung to it and put every effort I could into making those numbers and deadlines my mission for survival. I eventually worked my way up and now am senior in my profession making over six figures. Since I was bad with money in my twenties though and moved to another state on a whim with no money in my savings, I accrued a fuck ton of debt that has my salary wrapped up, so I still come from a state of scarcity and lack.

    I feel shame around my debt and my financial decisions that I had made, but with everything going on in my life I’ve been able to compartmentalize and have fun in the present with everything else I’m up to. Reaching into my truest desires elsewhere has allowed me to take a breathe from over thinking my finances and live in moments that don’t cost a thing. It’s been helping me have a more healthy look at my relationship with money and even so my debt.

    This entry isn’t about my debt though. It’s about the job I choose to have for 40 hours+ a week. With me initially getting into this field out of fear, lack, and need for stability (rightfully so), I look back and ask myself that if none of those feelings were present what profession would I have chosen for myself. If I had came to Colorado with a safety net and could take my time, what would I have explored? Would I have used my Professional Writing degree?

    There’s always been a part of me that has considered writing as a job whether it be professional writing like technical, editing, proposals, etc; or fiction writing like the stories that I’m verrrry slowwwly working through right now.

    Impostor syndrome creeps up when I think about how I haven’t had the motivation to work on my fantasy story in over a month, how I am taking a very long break from my psychological thriller novel, and how I over-critique myself which sucks the joy out of projects/this blog sometimes. This blog is something I just started up a little over a month ago and I’m addicted to it. It’s a season of writing that I’ve really leaned into unexpectedly.

    This type of writing though really requires me to dig into my internal monologue, personal psychological analysis, internal conflict, and traumas. It can be too much sometimes, or I harp on the same things over and over again as I’m processing through it. I can run through loops, get lost, distract myself and end up looking back trying to reverse outline because of my ADHD. Even with all of that though, it’s been keeping me very present in my life and letting repressed feelings bubble up to the surface so that I can see them for what they are.

    All of this said, my writing fluctuates. It’s inconsistent, doesn’t have a clear theme or direction for a career path, and I’ve always told myself I’m not a good editor and technical writing would be too stiff for me to do daily. Additionally, what if I do it as a career and the pressure and critique of it ruin my love for it?

    So, then I sit with myself on other ideas.

    When I was young I wanted to be like Nancy Drew – a Detective! My dad told me to choose something more realistic so I landed on a Veterinarian for a while, but I quickly found out that I couldn’t handle that emotionally and another factor is they aren’t paid well. Also vet school is so expensive. I took a web development boot camp a few years back to see if my brain could handle something like that, but absolutely not. I was always creative and liberal arts focused in high school and college – math & arithmetic were never even an average skill set of mine.

    I’ve taken career quizzes, personality tests, legitimately Googled jobs and just peeked around for ideas. It’s ironic that I’m a recruiter and doing so much as if I haven’t seen every job (in corporate land) out there already.

    I’ve considered being a career coach/government career assistant because I love helping people find their potential and getting them on the right path – teaching them about interviewing and resume development. I’ve considered getting into the operations side of Human Resources like being a business partner, and I even completed my PHR last year before switching companies. I just don’t know if I will be able to transition into that department being that I’m at a start-up and everything is quite small. The job market is trash right now, so the chances of a company taking an opportunity on someone without direct experience is unlikely considering they are probably getting people who do have the skill sets already.

    Out of everything I explored, leaning into HR will be the best match for me. Keeping writing as a hobby I think will be the healthiest option, and if I want to publish something down the road – if the stars align – then fabulous.

    Considering my initial point, my job holds my heart in a binder of sorts. It’s more difficult for me to be risky with my job than it is with anything else in my life. It makes me feel too dependent, and weak thinking that if I lost my job I will be in ruin due to my financial situation. This means that taking leaps feels like an immense effort. Advocating for my growth at my current company, asking for more and leaning in feels scary. On top of that, because HR isn’t a ‘passion’ of mine – it’s a paycheck that offers more stability than recruiting – it’s not necessarily something I’m like “Oh, I want to do this!” it’s a means to an end where I’m thinking, “I should do this because it will make my life simpler, but I need to start making the decisions.”

    Perhaps changing my mindset around going after an HR job will help motivate me into making the risk feel even more worth it. If I put a deeper ‘why’ behind it, it could leverage me to take the risks. I think one thing too that I forget often is what I ‘deserve’.

    One day, a few years back, I was visiting my therapist and she prescribed me a higher dose of antidepressants. My internal monologue found its way out as I was debating when I would start the new dose based on logistics of my schedule and picking up the prescription. None of the logistical factors were all that daunting- it was more coming from a place of laziness when she asked me why I couldn’t just pick them up that day. She followed my rant by saying, “Don’t you think you deserve it?”

    It stuck with me because I do find that I talk myself out of what I deserve based solely on the weakness in my mind tied to lack of motivation and laziness. That was the depression and anxiety talking to a certain extent. Though I’m medicated completely now and happy, I still run into that internal conflict from time to time – including right now.

    You want to change fields so that you can be more stimulated and seen as more of a business partner than transactional- Don’t you deserve that?

    You want to keep working on your writing projects because it fuels your heart and creative spirit – don’t you deserve that?

    What all do I deserve? And when it comes to a job, what do people deserve from me but my best self? I can only give my best self when I feel like I’m stimulated, challenged, and living up to my own potential. Do I feel like I have all those things now in recruiting at my current job? I’m definitely challenged, but stimulated is another thing. Recruiting is something I’ve always done therefor I know all the ins and outs of it – every job I may work on might be vastly different from the last, but the way you go about it is truly the same. If you experience obstacles there are similar ways out of them as you’ve done prior. But I could say that same thing with every job out there.

    I think I just want to feel valued in my role as a partner rather than someone that needs to hit specified numbers, metrics and cater to the needs of a stakeholder as if they are my client. I have ideas and a voice that I want to use. Recruiting can almost feel so transactional and I want more depth and challenge in my day-to-day. I want projects on enablement and process improvements. I want to uncover gaps and think logically about things that could have a high impact. I believe I can meet in the middle and do that within a HR based position – I just need the opportunity to get there. I deserve that opportunity.

    So, if Mel Robbins says that each decision I make can change my entire life then what decisions should I make at this point regarding my job? What risks can I make to get me out of ‘stuck’ and stimulate my day-to-day life?

    Instead of living in the state of scarcity – how can I go after what I deserve?

  • Partnering with my ‘Parts’ [IFS] to Experience True Attachment

    I’ve lived a life being comfortable with emotional malnutrition.

    When my mother texts me asking for a check in on how my life is going, sometimes I do give it to her – feelings and all, only to be met with ‘Good! Xoxo’. No acknowledgement, validation or deeper questioning. That pretty much sums up my experience growing up with both of my parents under the same roof and feeling big feelings live in the moment.

    This type of development has made me really dependent on myself, low maintenance, easily influenced, and surface level in deeper relationships with others. My prior relationship of almost six years ended specifically because I allowed myself to date my parents and coasted on without fully realizing it until repressed anger, resentment, and anxiety bubbled up which blew it all up – for the very best.

    I’ve been experiencing micro-relationships with men since then that have enabled that ‘low maintenance’ vibe of being purely physical and it has been liberating in a lot of ways, but triggering as well. It’s re-opened discomfort in lack of communication and emotional connection for the ability to experiment with these partners.

    Though I wouldn’t change anything about any of it, it’s brought a lot of repressed feelings up to the surface that I am now dealing with head-on. Feelings of not being heard, validated, or valued. The exiles in my parts (Internal Family Systems reference) tells me it’s my fault because I allowed it, that I let my younger self down again by allowing myself to accept more behavior like that especially after exiting a relationship that was perpetuating those patterns as well.

    I took a step back and removed those men from my life, only to be found by someone who is the complete opposite of everyone else – emotionally intelligent and self-aware, courteous, patience, considerate, affirming, asks deeper questions, asks for my likes and dislikes, checks in, is consistent, apologizes and says thank you, etc;

    My ‘Manager’ tells me to make sure I have control over how much I allow to be shared, how vulnerable I can be and maintain distance for the fear that he may let me down once again. She tells me things like “you don’t know this man yet,” “He could change his mind – be prepared for that.” “He might change his mind if you tell him something that makes him uncomfortable.”

    My manager is on high alert even more so because those men I experimented with did all of those things back-to-back and it’s still fresh after a vulnerable break-up. I shared some vulnerable feelings with them, minor ones mind you, and the second a small lick of complexity came about they bailed.

    One guy asked for something sexually that I wasn’t sure how to do – asked him for flexibility and he said I was too complicated. I asked one man to be more considerate of my schedule and to communicate, then he bailed. Another one I told that I felt our sex was one-sided and that I would prefer if he would listen to me when I communicated that I wanted something and actually follow through – he got defensive and bailed.

    So, of course I get to this man and my Manager is adulting me in ways to try and keep me safe. My Firefighters are distracting me in my day-to-day life so I won’t think about him and make me feel even more dependent on him. My Exiles are reminding me that I could get hurt from him even if so far all he is showing is green flags.

    Both my anxious and avoidant attachment styles are coming up to the surface, and on higher defense to ensure that this next dive is as safe as it can possibly be considering where my heart has been recently.

    When I ground into my ‘Core’ self, I feel appreciated and affirmed by him. He tells me that he wants to see me. When he senses a mood shift, he asks about it and validates my feelings. He lets me ask questions and he answers transparently and openly without hesitation. When we have sex he asks what I like and follows through. He checks in unprompted and gives details, stories, and personal information that will let me learn more about him before following up with asking me questions on the same topics.

    As I write all of these things down my Exile can’t help but to say, “those things should always be expected. These are bare minimum traits.” and in turn makes me feel a little shame for allowing myself to not have them sooner – for settling for people who couldn’t give me the basic emotional nutrition that he is providing to me.

    My Core self tells my Exile that it’s okay that I’m just now experiencing it. That experiencing it now and learning from it is better than never at all. That it is not my fault that I’ve slipped into patterns as long as I recognize them now and do what I can to deviate. That my inner child can trust that I’m doing the work to make her feel secure and protected. I’m doing my very best.

    My Manager is there for me when I need her and so is my Firefighter. So long as there is balance between my parts and acknowledging their purpose, I can move forward and learn to experience what this feels like. I can learn that living in lack does not need to be forever and given the opportunity to care for someone who is giving me stable attachment is such a big deal!

    It is okay if I have not experienced it before. It is okay to let myself experience it now and give in to the beautiful feelings that come up from it. It is okay to nourish myself in vulnerability and emotional connection. It is okay if I stumble through it and it’s a little messy. It is okay to give him trust. It is okay to go beyond the surface and let myself feel, emote, share and receive all of these things back.

    It is okay if this doesn’t work out too.

    My Manager might feel scared to lose control for the fear that this nourishment will be short-lived. My Exile might want me to hold on for dear life that I never lose it again, fear that I will mess it up and then I will once again be without it. My Firefighter might want me to distract myself from him so that I can find distance and distraction from my exiles or pull away altogether so that I won’t let him let me down.

    I think for this to really work out and let myself experience this type of emotional connection then I need to balance out my parts and allow myself to think about ways to monitor the mindset of ‘lack’.

    If it doesn’t work out with him there will be others that can give me these needs.

    If it doesn’t work out with him at least I was able to experience something truly positive and affirming for my healing journey.

    If it doesn’t work out with him then I have my Parts to help me navigate through it. I have a support system, therapy and my writing to walk myself through any possible triggers and things I’ve learned or perhaps things that I realized I want to work on or unlearn.

    If it doesn’t work out that is okay. I can catch myself.

    If everything ends up being okay, then I will have experienced very beautiful things. I will have experienced what genuine connection, and vulnerability can feel like in a secure attachment. I will have learned about myself from a different frame of light and heal elements of my inner child. I will know what it is I truly want and need and build a foundation from that to grow upon.

    It’s worth the dive, and I tell my Parts to let me try.

  • Emotional Deprivation: Finding Balance in Connection

    The relationship started off very strong and it lasted a total of five and a half years. It was the most healing of relationships coming from growing up with a lot of emotionally avoidant and one-sided relationships, including those of family and friends. It healed parts of my heart and broke others in a way I didn’t know could be.

    It was safe from expectations and common gender norms of getting married, having babies and any pressures that went along with how we’re conditioned to be in heterosexual relationships. Being with a woman meant I didn’t need to worry about birth control or explaining my body and hormones. This woman in particular didn’t want to have kids or get married; she only talked about buying a condo downtown someday. I knew this about her from day one, and it felt freeing to live that way – not looking for the traditional commitments especially at 24 years old.

    When we initially discussed dating she had a list of non-negotiables, with those points listed. The list kept growing as our relationship continued on and instead of it having that free feeling, I felt trapped into a life that someone only factored themselves into.

    After a long time of ‘going with the flow’ and leaning into most of all her preferences, I started to become angry. When I’d speak up about how I felt, it was a debate. Getting her to go to couples therapy was disheartening, and she tried to use her schedule to de-prioritize that and many other things that mattered to me and I wanted her to be there for.

    The romance dwindled and she joked once that it was because she had me now. The last year of our relationship I started to have even more conversations about how I felt and her solution was to throw money toward ‘date nights’ where we would go out for a fun activity and either not talk, or talk about her work or her family drama. Watching her eyes glaze over after asking me about my day made me both enraged and frozen in disappointment.

    Growing up in an emotionally avoidant household where my family did not talk about feelings and invalidated mental health, I had become very used to swallowing my words. There wasn’t one conversation where my parents apologized for anything, and speaking up for myself was followed with a ‘watch your mouth.’ My dad’s military background enforcing a ‘suck it up’ mentality that only perpetuated the repression of the traumas I began to experience moving around frequently, experiencing loss, and the harm I inflicted upon myself cutting, burning and having unsafe partners. I didn’t feel like a whole person, like I lacked personality, and I wasn’t allowed to ask for what I wanted or needed.

    I realized after quite some time that I was letting her do the same thing to me. She didn’t hear me and instead manipulated situations to her preference. If I didn’t want to do something or changed my mind because my heart wasn’t in it, I would become an inconvenience to her. The times I had brought up my feelings around our intimacy, she would gaslight me into saying that nothing was wrong. Out of the times we’ve been together we had a strong intimate interaction a mere handful of times. The rest of the time she was on a different plane of existence, leaving me alone to figure out how to feel good. I would ask for things in the moment and out of it, and they never would come. I would try to dive deep to understand but was met with surface level responses.

    I was dating my parents and didn’t realize it until it was too late.


    It wasn’t until we had broken up that I moved out that I realized I have been living in a state of deprivation. Deprivation of core needs that the coping mechanisms/firefighters from my nervous system covered up for comfort and familiarity.

    Here I am 4 months later reflecting on everything I have done exclusively for myself since. I stopped wearing sweatpants, smoking pot, watching TV as much, and staying home on the weekends. I began to go out and make connections with new people. I began dancing 2-3 times per week, something I had always wanted to do but didn’t have the motivation or self-esteem to take the leap. I got Lasik and started taking care of my body again. I got back on antidepressants and saw all my doctors to make sure everything was okay – something if I hadn’t done could have led to cervical cancer down the road.

    Then I took a major leap and decided to get to know men again. I had boundaries in place that would make my ‘adventures’ with these men purely physical. An experiment. It worked out pretty well for a while. I had small situationships with five different men (safely and honestly) and was liberated by the attention, affection, and most of all my voice in all of it. I had started to feel liberated in my feminity, and most of all found the joy in sex again which was a very deep emotional realization for me being in the gay community for so long. It sparked pride in me that I’ve truly come a long way since I was in my very early twenties; holding true to my boundaries, asking for what I wanted, and eventually calling these men out.

    I felt like a strong pillar in those moments, standing up for my younger self ten years later. All of those men ended up letting me down in all sorts of different ways than I imagined they would. It seemed the expectations I provided perhaps made them think they didn’t owe me any respect, which eventually triggered a few things for me that I worked through with ease and the help of therapy and my support system.

    Why I am writing this in the first place is because considering everything I’ve been through and where I’m at exploring, I stumbled into something that has triggered something in me that I’m trying to make more tangible, something I can grab, analyze and hopefully learn from.

    Of all the men I’ve experienced these last four months, I haven’t felt a real threat. I always felt in control, minus those triggers. Now I’ve stepped into something entirely different where it does feel threatening – feelings.

    This man is emotionally intelligent, an excellent listener, romantic, considerate, consistent, and perceptive. We’ve been talking for a few weeks and only met up once so far, and I feel feelings. Feelings I agreed I wouldn’t feel. Feelings that are bringing up more triggers and my anxious/avoidant attachment styles to the surface. Mix that with polyamory and a sprinkle of jealousy and wow am I in trouble.

    Living in a state of deprivation and lack for a long time. It can be something you just get used to and you adjust your standards to it. The men these last 5 months were just that. They were hot and we had fun, but everything else was a complete fucking mess. A mess I was fully expecting. This new man is unfortunately so great, that I remembered how malnourished I’ve been.

    It snapped something inside of me – perhaps the anchor that was keeping me grounded in avoidant comfort. This ‘roster’ mentality in the tone of feminine liberation.

    He’s telling me that he likes me, my feelings are valid, asking deeper questions, asking me what I want and giving it to me, giving me consistency and answering every question I have with transparency.

    What’s happening is I’m reacting to in a way that comes from lack. My anxious attachment wants the reassurance. Then when he texts and says something I can’t interpret as busy or lack of interest, my avoidant side comes out and wants to stop texting him altogether. Prove to myself that I don’t care or that he doesn’t affect me.

    It’s as if both are pushing and pulling me simultaneously and I’m stuck in the middle trying to figure out what to do about it.

    I want him. I want continuous attention and affection. That isn’t something I can ask for from him completely considering our situation. When I don’t get it, I want to pull away to protect myself. I don’t believe the problem is the nature of our situation so much is the healing in my heart from regulating my nervous system around giving and receiving emotional connection. If I was more regulated within myself, then I wouldn’t need someone else to fill anything up that I can’t myself.

    So, how do I create this habitat for my heart to live in independently and lovingly?

    I always thought I was pretty independent when in truth my ‘independent spirit’ is a protective barrier around genuine connection. Because I haven’t had a lot of genuine connection, it feels raw to experience it and know how to hold it with balance. Balance of holding myself up and letting another assist when I need it. When it comes down to one or another, I generally over lean into holding myself up even if done in unhealthy ways.

    How do I find the balance between the affection and attention I ask from him and the affection and attention I supply for myself?

    Do I struggle with giving myself that to the degree that I need?

    If so, what’s holding me back from that?

    Is it that I’m not present and intentional enough to be in my body and experience life?

    Is it that with every text, Instagram reel, snapchat photo that my dopamine reservoir is only filled up with him not leaving enough room for my own?

    Maybe that’s been the case these last four months with all these men – allowing them to fill my tank with compliments, sex and short-lived cuddling.

    What can I do for myself to provide more sustainable dopamine and affection that comes only from me (while also managing my ADHD)?

    Is it eating healthy, exercising, reading, writing, walking, laying in the sun, traveling, dancing, etc;? Is it self-talk, affirmations, mantras, meditation? Is it creating reliable, real, platonic friendships? I suppose those would be the ‘whole foods’ of dopamine, versus the ‘fast food’ type that can be received in other ways like leaning into sex too much, alcohol, drugs, impulsive spending, going out all the time, etc;

    Boys have been my main vice recently – sex and the affirmations I receive from them. Before I was dating this last woman, boys didn’t really look my way. I was quiet, guarded, insecure, and didn’t know how to express myself with my appearance. I never spoke up for myself and asked for what I wanted. This left me with guys who preyed on that and saw it as an opportunity to get what they wanted no questions asked. I was so lost and deprived from genuine connection that I did all I could to lean into it and find it with these men. More than once I walked away with tears in my eyes, but I kept doing it – searching and hoping.

    So, meeting this person who feels secure – it fucks with me. I want it, but don’t know how to hold it. If I do hold it, how do I determine when to let it go or give myself space without it. I feel I know the answer is to hold myself equally if not more, but it feels so hard.

  • “Short-Term Relationship”: How it has fucked me good and bad.

    If you haven’t seen my prior posts then the skinny is that I just ended a 6-year long relationship with a woman (I am a woman) in December and began casually hooking up with men in February to explore my sexuality again. I have now slept with 5 guys in a 2-month span.

    Over the course of all this time, I have learned quite a lot about my body (Hello, having to worry about STDs and pregnancy all over again) and what it’s like to experience men in my 30’s after my last run-in being when I was 23.

    I have been exploring the then and now comparisons and how age plays a part, my sexual needs from men compared to women, and most of all how to communicate with this entire other species after having it easy for 6 years with a woman who knew the ins and outs of my whole life and could relate to me on so many different levels men just can’t.

    Starting this journey, I looked up hook-up culture on TikTok to see what the girlies were up to and how they were approaching it. I was shocked to see that all the girls were swearing against it and harshly. Some of the comments on each were forgiving where women were saying “friends with benefits can be great and healthy and yada yada”, but the actual content was all against.

    I was shocked because I assumed that there would be tons of women out there posting about their fulfilling hook-ups, situationships and friends with benefits that I could really benefit listening to stories, but no – it was quite the opposite.

    I remember messaging my best friend telling her that I feel like hook-ups can be super healthy (I was in the midst of guy number 4 – see below- and in a sexual daze before I realized who he was outside of bed). I was telling her, “These girls are all against, but if there isn’t a risk for catching feelings why can’t sex be a healthy thing amongst friends who are on the same page?”

    As I started to move through guy number 3,4,5 – it all started to make more sense to me.

    Out of these 5 men:

    • 3 provided me with really great sexual experiences.
    • 3 were defensive regularly
    • 2 walked me to my car/home after hanging out.
    • 1 came prepared with his own condom.
    • All 5 need to go to therapy before considering long-term relationships.
    • & all 5 made me cry at least once.

    I’m writing because guy #5, the only one left up until tonight, was the last straw. It took me five guys to start to ask myself – ‘is hook-up culture for me?’

    The first guy, I had hooked up with a few times and it was easily the best sex I had ever had. Everything was great, that is until he no showed one night even after texting me up to the last 30-mintues telling me he was on his way (after being hours late already) and updating me on how far he was out. He decided to take a spontaneous detour to get stoned at his friend’s house and fell asleep. I had cleaned my entire apartment, put on makeup, and waited for way too long for this man until I realized he wasn’t coming. When I told him I was upset, he gave a weak apology followed with an excuse.

    The second guy would breadcrumb me (just learned that terminology – thanks Tik Tok) and then ghost me when I would ask ‘what time?’ to his ‘let’s hang out today’ texts. When he did end up showing up, we had the best time – I really loved being around him, but when I called him out on his lack of time management and poor communication (gently asking him to respect my time) he snapped at me so loudly and harsh that at that point I knew I couldn’t see him again.

    The third guy fucked me really well, asked me to do something a little advanced the following day over text and when I confided that I would need to take it a little slower he said that it was now ‘too complicated’ and bid me farewell.

    The fourth guy was my most consistent because it was *chefs kiss* and he played into all my fantasies…but the first time we spent real time together outside of my apartment he picked me up in his truck and when I hopped in he said, “Oh god, I’m going to have to check my suspension – you just moved the whole truck jumping in.” He proceeded to nit-pick me the entire night until I snapped at him to shut up or he wouldn’t get laid (I was really horny-don’t judge me for staying lol). He then turned inward, got defensive and pouty saying, “this is just my personality, but I guess you can’t handle it”.

    Then the fifth guy. In bed I would ask for different positions that made me feel good – he would do them for *literally* 5 seconds before he would change back into a position he enjoyed more. The time before, I told him I was about to cum and then he came two seconds later, walked away to grab a towel before plopping down on my bed and telling me how tired he was. I called him out on all of this and instead of acknowledging or apologizing he said, “I thought you came (referring to both nights). I didn’t realize you’ve been having such an unpleasant time.” Words I didn’t use, but ones he felt appropriate to deflect on what I was actually saying – genuine communication around what I need.

    I did in turn explain to him what the cues are for a woman’s orgasm as a little nugget of passively condescending advice that I genuinely think he needed to hear from someone – because how the fuck could he have thought I came either one of those times.

    My pussy swiped left so hard – bye bye.

    In summation, my feelings had become deprioritized for their comfortability.

    So tonight, after getting into my car (he did not walk me there and a homeless man jumped out of a bush and scared the shit out of me – so cherry on top), I cried so hard I had a panic attack. I then proceeded to scream in intervals on the way home.

    Scream for the rage I had built up over the course of these two months feeling like I had signed up to be used by these men all because I put “short-term relationship” on my dating profile.

    Regardless, I think I’ve experienced enough sex and am ready to put my feelings in a jar for someone who can take care of them the right way.

    …

    I feel sad.

    I feel a twinge in my gut for all the confrontation I had during the ‘break-ups’, for lack of better words, that I aimed to be cordial, but took turns into uncomfortable territory.

    I feel uncertain because some of these boys were really good at gaslighting my feelings and making me feel as if I was in the wrong.

    I feel scared that perhaps this is just what the dating world is like, regardless of my relationship request status.

    I feel sad.

    I feel sad.

    I feel sad.

  • Why Saying Goodbye Matters: A Personal Journey

    I think we all get the make-up of a goodbye.

    It starts off with an awkward silent acknowledgement of what’s supposed to happen next. Usually that happens as you both look at each other, arms awkwardly to your sides waiting for the other person to initiate unless it gets weird and you take the action, deciding whether or not this goodbye is warranted a hug or not.

    You do the thing and you part ways, unless you’re from the Midwest of course then you will be talking all before, during and after the hug – casually lingering with one foot in front of the next on your way out.

    Either way, it’s a closure from one point to the next. Concluding your time with someone either temporarily or permanently.

    I think we all do goodbyes because obviously it would be weird if we didn’t, right? Transitioning from one frame of presence to another where you are alone or moving on to another’s presence. Other than the social norms though, the purpose you would think is because maybe us humans need a solid transition – a mini closure.

    Of course, there are the ‘Irish goodbyes’ but those usually happen at parties, and are socially acceptable since you aren’t leaving a 1:1 hangout, like a casual ‘swing by’ situation that has a natural, silent swing out.

    I only figured out as I got older that ‘Irish goodbyes’ were only socially approved as something to happen in certain settings.

    As a kid in a military family the ‘Irish’ goodbye just felt like the classic kind.

    People came in and out of your life regularly, and it was taught that goodbyes were in most cases unnecessary, or something special you awarded people very close to you, otherwise you didn’t get attached enough to need more closure than that.

    At least that is what my dad thought, taking me away from friendships I built over a 6-year span and asking me to transition to a new home in under 2 weeks. “Make it quick” he said as I scrambled out of the car to give everyone a big hug and tell them that I’d miss them.

    I still resent my dad for that.

    It ended up impacting a lot of friendships and relationships as I had gotten older and had more autonomy over my environments. I would break up with boys on a whim and with little closure to them or myself – acting on emotions and feelings I didn’t even understand. I would burn bridges with friends, uncomfortable with the guilt of saying goodbye and having the conversation around it.

    I became classified to some as a ‘cold hearted bitch’.

    It didn’t help that my immediate family, whom I spent most of my chidhood with considering we were moving so much, were emotionally detached from themselves and each other.

    The second to last move before dad retired, I started to have panic attacks. My first one being in Algebra class after I had just found out my grandma was dying of cancer and we were picking up our whole life and moving in 2 weeks, without more than a few days’ notice.

    I’d cry at the dinner table, getting worked up because I didn’t feel heard when I told her I was anxious and depressed. Out of frustration I would scream and run to my room slamming the door behind me – asking for trouble. My mom opened the door, leaned against the frame and grinned at me as if what I was feeling was a child acting out. Amusing.

    I learned that year that my feelings didn’t matter to my parents, so why share them when I’d be faced with disappointment and invalidation.

    When my favorite teacher died of cancer I went to the service and then came home, went to my room quietly and cried. My mom came in, saw me and then left without a single word.

    When a student at my high school died in a car crash on his way to school, the entire class was silent and distraught. I came home and cried because I felt so awful at what had happened, only for mom to say, ‘why, you didn’t know him?’.

    My dad was never home to really get it but I always knew he was similar to mom. Had the same ideas around emotional vulnerability. That is until his doctor accidentally prescribed him a cocktail of medication that gave him immense anxiety. He struggled for months, until he realized what it was.

    My mom came to me at one point and said, “watching what your father went through- I get it now.”

    Because the feelings of your children are not real unless an adult you know feels them first to make them valid. I felt in that moment that I wished my dad experienced that anxiety episode much sooner in life so that I didn’t feel like I missed out on having support. I would even wish anxiety and depression upon her resentfully so that she could truly feel it and give me the apology I deserved.

    Growing up through my 20s and going to lots of therapy, I took on the work of finding validation internally. I slip up a lot though still. I was in a 6 year relationship with someone who stopped hearing me, invalidating every fucking feeling I had against them with a debate. I let that relationship go for way too long because perhaps the trauma from my past felt slightly comforting – swallowing my feelings whole to prevent hurt, even though I didn’t need to do that.

    I would become fearful that if I expressed a feeling, she would shoot me down and be condescending just like my mother.

    The patters of our traumas are really difficult to get out of. So, as painful as it was and how much I didn’t want to do it – I said goodbye.

    The goodbye was long, drawn out and uncomfortable as fuck. I let it all be my fault just to get it over with. She would question why and I would just say it was me because it was easier – I promised myself it would be the last time I do that for another person. That since we were living together and knee-deep in our lives together, that me succumbing to the full blame would be easiest. I was protecting myself from defending my feelings like I knew would happen.

    Since that relationship I have been casually dating a lot of different people and practicing a lot of goodbyes. Some not so good, and some really healthy. Being honest, feeling my instincts and letting myself be an entire person.

    I don’t think I’ll ever get to truly say goodbye to my past and the soul-sinking feelings of having my feelings crushed between another person’s hands…

    The betrayal and feeling of loneliness that can come so easily from another person you so depend on.

    It’s been 7 years since I moved away from home and got the distance I needed to mend those relationships and have vulnerable conversations with both my parents – ones that have felt so rewarding and fulfilling, like they are trying to grow too.

    I move back in a year – saying goodbye to Colorado. They asked me to move back sooner and I laughed out loud at them because of course they would expect that to be easy.

    The people who never could understand why goodbye was something people did. The people who didn’t believe anyone or anyplace was ever worth one.

    I told them that I plan on taking my time leaving here. Getting the full closure of this place, my home, and parting ways with a whole chapter of myself. Giving my friends a solid, whole-hearted goodbye. Taking one last walk around the park near my apartment, going to all my favorite spots one more time, embracing a Colorado summer and winter one more time.

    They went silent on the other end of the phone – unclear of what to say. I felt the twinge of sadness from not being understood, from them not putting the fucking puzzle together. I can’t help but feel like one day they will just get it.

    I think that’s what happens when it’s your parents though. You want so badly for them to get you, understand what they did wrong and apologize for it, to feel for you and with you because you love them regardless. I know they love me too, but it’s not enough and it doesn’t feel like whole love.

    Whole love for me feels like synchronous understanding of one another, who they are, and doing what they need to feel that love.

    I do not feel like they seek to understand me and seek to give me the type of love I need and ask for. And that hurts.

    I’ll never be able to say goodbye to them, but I know in my heart of hearts I have to say goodbye to the expectations I’ve always hoped they’d meet.

    A type of goodbye no one could have ever prepared me for.