Good News And Bad News.

The bad news: I have an STD.

The good news: it’s 100% curable.

I got a text message from my health clinic this morning about my lab results while I was at work. Immediately, I panicked, thinking the worst and assuming that I had HPV, which is untreatable and extremely common. I called them right away and the nurse said I tested positive for chlamydia. She was extremely kind and reassuring and told me that it’s 100% treatable with antibiotics. I got my prescription sent over to my pharmacy and I just took it two hours ago.

I suspect that I got it from this guy that I was seeing last year around November. My pelvic pain started around June, and even though I only gave him oral once, that’s all it took, sadly. Thankfully, we didn’t have intercourse. God knows what other diseases I would have gotten.

I guess I’m frustrated and upset with myself more than him. My relationships with men have always been awful. Even though I am pansexual, I find it very hard to become attracted to men, specifically cisgender men. Perhaps I am too sweet and get taken advantage of by these selfish men. Most of them have compared me to other women, a trend that I see prevalent among straight men and that really irritates me. I am in no competition against any of my sisters. If I could go back in time and avoid having sexual relations with all of these men, I would. I gained nothing from it. Absolutely nothing. Most of it was not enjoyable at all. I was putting myself through the abuse I underwent over and over again.

Thankfully, I am in relationship with a woman that loves me for me, not for the sex that I can offer her. I’m so grateful to have her. She said she would still be with me even if I had an incurable STD. I haven’t been intimate with her because I didn’t want to give her anything. I found a sex therapist in New York City that seems really promising and addresses sexual abuse in adult survivors. I think that would really help me. I need to address the trauma that I underwent which continues to haunt my subconscious.

The other good news is that I might have a second job. 🙂 I have the interview tomorrow in the evening. I want to save up as much as possible before I move out with my girlfriend. There is an LGBTQ career fair in New York City next week as well that my girlfriend and I are attending. I feel very disillusioned with my career search but I am willing to give it a try. I really need to work on my confidence more.

I’m exhausted so I’m off to bed. I hope everyone has a good night.

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Healing Is Difficult.

I’m too scared to write this anywhere except here. I don’t want it being traced back to me. It’s 3:16 AM and I just have so much on my mind. I am finally accepting that the past has marked me in ways that I never fully acknowledged. It explains why I slept with so many men and felt nothing at all. Some may say I was looking for love in these strangers. An escape. A savior. A way to reclaim the sexuality that was forced upon me when I was much too young. But now I realize that I was just repeating the same abuse over and over again, allowing these men to use me for their own selfish desires. The last time I had sex was over a year ago and I’m shocked that I haven’t contracted HIV or an STD (I got tested yesterday, all negative) from the few times I had unprotected sex because I genuinely didn’t care whether I got a disease, why did it matter if I didn’t want to live anymore.

And I was foolish enough to follow society’s ill advice of ‘leaving the past behind’ and numbing myself with other vices such as alcohol and food. I dabbled with pills a few times but my body does not react well to most of them. Always trying to escape the past. Never dealing with the real problem.

There’s too much to write…too much to confess. Now I wonder, if I hadn’t been sexually abused by these men, would I still be the sensual, erotic creature that I am? I do fantasize about enjoying penetration, but sadly, because of the abuse, it almost always hurts, no matter how turned on I am. The past bleeds into the present. The present seeps into the future. The three simultaneously happening.

Perhaps that is why I have written dozens of erotic stories and poems where I safely explore my sexuality. The writing world is a safe haven, a place where I am not judged and ridiculed. Where the past doesn’t resurface and suffocates me with its noxious fumes.

I could very easily hate men and say that they are all vile and selfish…but I’ve met many women that are the same. Egocentric, sociopathic and narcissistic individuals that hide behind carefully constructed veils of superficial beauty.

Yes, I’ve been to therapy. I’ve been going to a shrink for over ten years, vomiting the same insecurities and fears. I highly doubt any of them would take my out of body experience seriously. Labeling my experience as a hallucination. But it wasn’t. My soul split from my physical body and watched the abuse transpire. (I vaguely brought this up to one shrink and she dismissed it.)

Thankfully, I am better now. Every day I get better. I wasn’t expecting to be alive at the age of 28. Ten years ago, I was in the mental hospital. I felt like an ugly, worthless and stupid waste of matter. I’m still working on my confidence and it’s extremely difficult. After being told by boys that I am ugly and stupid, it’s hard for me to believe it when one tells me that I am beautiful. Two years ago, I was 150 pounds. Now I am 109 and still getting fit. I no longer cut myself. I don’t drink to escape the pain. I don’t force myself to get with men. I’m just happy to be breathing and to enjoy another morning, afternoon and evening. I find beauty everywhere, everyday. That’s what keeps me alive. That’s what keeps me present. And grateful.

Always Healing

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There is so much on my mind and I’m not sure where to begin. I’m happy I’ve kept this blog anonymous. I was going to delete my previous posts, but I have no shame in my fetishes/kinks. From now on, though, I will be focusing on subjects that most people don’t care to discuss but that I have to address.

For awhile now I have been suspecting that my high sex drive is an unfortunate result of the sexual abuse/incest that was inflicted upon me by family members. I could very well be a person of pure hatred and vitriol after the things I underwent, but I have chosen to forgive my abusers because it has brought me some solace and peace. I do not want to become a hateful, vengeful person like my grandma, who is suffering mentally, emotionally, spiritually and physically from all this toxic hatred that she clutches onto.

Unfortunately, even though I have forgiven my abusers, the past will never change. I have foolishly bought society’s lies that I can leave the past behind and make a new future. If only it were that simple or even true. This is why famous people like Chester Bennington commit suicide. These demons stalk you and feed your depression, anxiety, PTSD and addictions 24/7, 365 days a year. I am thankful that I know better now and that I do not follow society’s unhealthy and psychologically unsound advice to pretend the past never happened and fill the emptiness in my heart and soul with vices such as alcohol, meaningless sex, shopping and food. In the past, I’ve used cutting as a coping mechanism, too.

And it’s impossible for me to forget the past when it affects my everyday life. PTSD changes your brain and it’s very, very hard to undo that change. I do everything that I can to help my mental illnesses: I work out everyday (toning exercises, jogging for two hours), I eat a clean vegan diet, I rarely drink alcohol and I am no longer sexually promiscuous. But unfortunately, the past manifests itself in my unconscious through panic attacks which I have no control over and crippling waves of anxiety and depression. Not to mention bouts of insomnia. I either eat too much or I don’t eat at all.

There is a lot of work that I need to do. I need to forgive myself for so many things. Such as fooling around with two married men. Sleeping with all of these men even though I didn’t even want to and I didn’t enjoy a second of it. Risking the chance of getting an STD or HIV. Pursuing emotionally abusive relationships that hurt me and damaged me even more. I have so much hurt inside of me. But I focus on the positive everyday and choose to smile because I am a survivor and I am beautiful in my strength and perseverance.

It’s 5:56 AM and I only had three hours of sleep earlier. I will take some time to ruminate before I write my next post, which will be extremely difficult to write about but that will help me immensely, I believe. I am hoping that by sharing my personal story with others, I can help at least someone. That’s all I want.

Seeking an editor.

Hey guys, I’m seeking an editor to clean up my erotic collection of flash fiction that I’m about to self-publish. Most of the stories/snippets are BDSM based so please keep that in mind. I just need someone to clean up the grammar, syntax and flow. If you are interested, please send me a message via my contact page on here with your email. Thank you so much! ❤

xoxo

 

Squirty girl appreciation.

I’ve only squirted on one guy’s cock and that was my ex…I’m not sure if it will ever happen again with my severe trust issues. But it’s probably the best feeling ever to squirt my babygirl cum all over daddy’s thick cock. So delicious. I’d love to swallow a woman’s squirt too…it would be so delicious and feel so amazing to feel her cum gush down my throat…I’d want her to ride my face all night.

 

I feel like……

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….squirting all over a handsome sweet submissive man’s toned chest. Mmm. I need that. I’ve never done it but hopefully that can change.

And no it’s not urine. There is nothing wrong with watersports, I personally find it hot with the right person and connection but my squirt is not urine. A woman knows her body more than a man does. 😉

What submission is to me.

I do not like being bossed around. Especially by men. To me, being submissive isn’t about being bossed around, being humiliated…it’s about giving selfless pleasure. Because that feels better to me than receiving pleasure. I don’t even have to orgasm and I feel satiated with my partner’s pleasure. If I can’t make him/her come then I feel awful and unfulfilled. Everyone has a different definition of D/S, but to me it has nothing to do with what most of these dominant men seek.

*blushes*

I never used to like glory holes until recently. I guess I’m too much of a germaphobe to fully enjoy it….it’s a big reason why I don’t like bathroom sex. It would have to be super extra squeaky clean. Then I would probably enjoy it. Maybe like a classy elegant glory hole. Haha. That sounds like a hot story I should write. 🙂 A cute innocent looking girl like me shouldn’t be wanting these things right…

😀