It’s hard to be hard all the time.

I am much softer than I may appear.  Not only is my physique nothing like what I share with you all here, my psyche is also not what you read here.  I am soft, loose, out of shape.  My heart bleeds for approval, even now so many years of anguish later learning that others simply cannot prop me up by response only.

Yet, I trudge on my old familiar path of feminine wiles and slights of hand.

I had a bad date last night.

And the date itself doesn’t upset me, but my reaction to it: I thought I was the cause.

Not the man who only spoke of himself and who disclosed things that had I known them prior I never would have been sitting with him in an obnoxiously loud sports bar playing Cinco De Mayo Bingo Trivia.  It wasn’t he who struggled to take the perfect picture of his bingo prize for Facebook who ruined the night.  It wasn’t he who had no interest in asking me questions.  It wasn’t he who thought he might throw up from chugging a beer.  It was me: I was fat, I was unappealing, I was a let down.

And those traitorous thoughts to basic feminism and all the years of hard work I’ve done to believe I am valuable are what made the date utterly miserable.  I was back to square one.

Forget that the very night before a lovely man with a silky sensuality had let my vulva slip between his hands in a rhythmic massage and peered down intently at me arching my back against his hand and purred, “I love learning new people.”

Forget that we had leaned into one another at the coffee-house with eyes alight with curiosity and interest and desire.

Forget that his cock had touched my core just so and I had cum and sprayed us both with the juices of my sex while he growled into my ear how surprised he was he was doing this.  That he was even capable after already disclaiming that he didn’t need another play partner, yet somehow, here we were naked and clawing at each other’s bodies.

All that shamefully became background noise as my super power to make every man I meet fall in lust with me fell from my grip because — I don’t know why.

The truth is, he was attractive, this misfire date with a lisp and loopy, toothsome gestures.  But from the second he opened his mouth I knew it was a mistake.  I tested him surreptitiously to see if my assessment was wrong and he failed each time.  No, he had no questions for me.  Let’s talk about hashtags on Facebook and Instagram for 10 minutes instead.

I grit my teeth against the anguish of my impotence and ground against the shame I felt at the realization I was experiencing a sense of failure.  Where was my sense of value now?

It seemed to have abandoned me, much like everything else in my life lately: it had better, bigger things to attend to rather than sit with me and remind me that sometimes, I have no effect on a man.  Sometimes, I don’t want to have an effect on a man.  And that doesn’t mean I’m suddenly not valuable, potent, or relevant.

The idea that someone wouldn’t want me makes me itch, but it’s an even more foreign concept to not want someone.  I am simply not allowed to have such a feeling; I am to make everyone else ok, you see?

Mother, father, selfish friends and boyfriends and husbands.  I say, “I really hate how this thing that you do makes me feel, but it’s important to you to feel ok, so I will swallow it and live with the lump in my throat.  I am expendable, you are not.”

I am frustrated and embarrassed at this little break down, especially in light of my high from yesterday.

I suppose it’s not unheard of to have a dip after such an exalted shout from the mountain that is more like dress-up some days than it is my real skin, but I’m trying — God, how I’m trying to make it my own skin.

I’ve been nursing a bottle of wine tonight and I ate half a calzone and some salad.  I feel like a rotund version of myself; unfit for public consumption.

I have been fighting tears for half the day because my mother has decided to abandon me on Mother’s Day.  You see, I made plans for breakfast and an afternoon with my own baby before I go see her.  She is no longer available to me now, she says.   Also, I reorganized this writing space and was thus faced with the reorganization of The Neighbor himself.  I miss him; I still love him; I still want him to come around and be the partner I need and want, but he is forever lost to me.  I ache with that knowledge.

With all those sad and unrequited needs of both my mother and The Neighbor I am therefore faced with the unapologetic truth that neither of them will be there for me in the ways in which I need them most.  I must let them go and thereby free myself in the process.  They have their own paths to strut and I mine.

I have curled up away from the world today.  I canceled a date and I have been reluctant to return texts, though there have been virtually – and thankfully — practically none.  I am focused on my sweet sissy’s pictures of my newest, weeks old niece humorously apologizing for my mother’s erratic, shit-colored behavior towards me.  The stain on my heart as I mourn the bond I felt towards my ill-suited boyfriend of 3 years throbs unattractively beneath my ribs.  It’s like tar on my carcass.

I can’t ignore that I have other shit going on besides trying to get laid.  I’m a hurtin’ unit, as they say.

A good friend called me a “turbo-slut” today and I laughed.  “You have sex with more men in one month than I do with women in an entire year,” he observed.  “I don’t know how you do it.  I get sex hangovers because I’m emotionally involved and I believe I leave more behind than just semen.  Maybe that’s why you’re feeling so down.”

I think there’s something to that.  Though I am more measured than the young Hyacinth, I am forgetting the psychic repair I require after sharing myself with someone.  I must be careful in this post-TN era, more discerning, lest I end up nothing but hungover from my hedonistic pursuits.  And lets not forget the other psychic things I juggle such as a supremely complicated relationship with my mother and a pulverized heart.

Deep in my grey matter I believe I am more than the sum of my parts, but my heart is still wrestling for purchase on that summit and I blame myself.  It’s just so easy to get the quick fix of a fuck that I struggle against the temptation and when I feel like saying No to an opportunity — or the potential of one — I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

Fuck.  I still think of it in terms of my failings.

I think I need another glass of wine.  This is much too much for a Wednesday.

A 40-something single mother who writes honestly about sex, body image, D/s, relationships, her nervous tics, and how much she loves to fucking fuck. She also likes to show you her tits.

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18 thoughts on “It’s hard to be hard all the time.
  1. Damn girl – you’re killling me. The raw truth pare my own heart and I can’t even bleed, only feel what you’re going through. ( Yes, I’ve had wine too. xo) Still, you always get to the heart of it. You always dive down to the deepest part of who you are….and you share it – unapologetically. As it damn well should be. Here you go – Where you are now is where I begin because I want more, just as you do. I just have less patience…and less nerve than you do. I want the bar raised – whatever that means as far as results go. You are seemingly in the middle of a state of turmoil and change. You’ll get past it because that’s your only damn option. It’s your best one too. Do you ever wonder why you struggle? I have a feeling it’s because you’re only seeking your level of like minded souls. I have a feeling you’ll get there sooner than I ever will because you have a tenacity for love woven into you that rivals Geronimo and Spartacus . It’s not in many people I see. That is something to honor Miss Desolute. You are not one to stay in a relationship that isn’t true enough for the long haul. I always had the sense you knew exactly what you were doing with TN – hoping. Personally, I don’t think there’s anythig wrong with hoping things will work. He is what he is but he could never have been enough for you as he was. I hope that isn’t hurtful to “hear” and I apologize if those words hurt you. It’s not my intention and what the fucjk do I know? Nothing!!! You two reminded me so very much of my relationship. I couldn’t comment at times because it was too real to me. Too bad the road to what you want – what you deserve – need- should have – is not easy, I say. I’ve had too much and I’ve lost the ability to censor so Good Night! Your openness touched me…and wine rendered me censorless and I’ve babbled on here enough You might want to erase this and go ahead I might ask you to later : ) xo, Jayne

    1. Aw, Jayney, we’ve been at this so long, you and I. I imagine what your face looks like all the time; I wonder if I’m right? Regardless, your words strike me and I don’t want to erase them. yes, I knew I couldn’t keep on as we were and no, it doesn’t hurt to hear that today. It only hurt to hear in the moments after the loss. I’m much stronger now.

      I don’t know if I’m doing anything right anymore, though. I should be at the gym, not in a man’s bed. But, oh well. I’m just going with it. I am taking a small break at the moment and I already feel massively better, I’ve let the men slide off of me and I’ve been focusing on art and inspiration instead. It’s doing me a lot better than the other thing I was trying. xx Hy

  2. Sorry that the date went so badly. It can be frustrating and painful to encounter such a person as him. When I went into recovery 29 years go, nothing bothered me more than advice that I perceived as someone telling me want to do. I did respond , however, if the thoughts were presented as a suggestion or just simply something that worked for them. So, being mindful of that, this is only a suggestion of something that worked for me. Perhaps it is time for a break in dating and sex. Perhaps abstinence for a short while or even a longer while will help you to refocus and recenter yourself. Perhaps it will give you the opportunity to regain what you feel you have lost or put in jeopardy. Perhaps the “dissolute life” has become a self medicating device instead of the rewarding experience it once was. Again this is only a suggestion to with as you see fit. Above all, it is your life. Bonnie and I continue to read you and hope that peace and joy will soon return to you. respectfully, stan

    1. I’m always open to what people have to share, Stan, and I am already in a little mini-break as we speak. I’m not calling it anything in particular or setting any deadlines, I’m just honoring my feelings and staying away. I was abstinent for about 3 months after the break and that felt very good. Now I’ve gorged a little and I think I’ll go back on a little diet, so to speak, continue to monitor how I feel. I’m not feeling anything for any of the men, so it’s no loss in that regard.

      I’m happy to know you and Bonnie are around :) xx Hy

  3. I am sorry your mom is such a narcissist.
    And I recognise in this interaction with her what I lived with for 20 years with my ex.
    I am only now learning to regain my voice and say things to him without getting upset but instead standing up for my needs and wants, too bad if he can’t like it. I don’t need him to like it. It feels oh so good to be rid of that sense that if I changed something, them he would feel better. The only person who can make him feel better is himself. I feel so much lighter to have finally made this realisation!
    As for your bad date… it’s a good thing you realised what was going on. I think you have every right to just listen to your gut, get up and say:’ sorry, this isn’t working for me’ and walk away.
    Says the woman who still struggles with the idea she lead someone on for one night, and nwver called him back, even after she’d told him throughout most of the evening that she wasn’t interested…
    Seems we have to learn to say ‘this is not what I’m looking for’ and walk without feeling like we’re shitty women.
    It’s possible. We’ll get there. Hang in there :-)

    1. That does seem narcissistic, doesn’t it? I’m going to focus on my child and our fun afternoon; I know she won’t live forever, but neither will I and I’d rather spend it the way I want to.

      Re: the bad date, yeah, this isn’t the first time and surely not the last one! I’ll just have to get better at it :)

  4. Head out of my ass – This is what I should have said. You’re openness is stunning and you make me want to be as upfront and honest with myself as you are here. I feel for you and the hurting you feel because you seem to have a good sense of moving on. It’s somethig I admire in you. I’m too chicken to move as fast but hen again, I’m older and always have ben slower at these things. i’m too careful. I believe that you could find a man to compliment your strengths. I don’t think it’s impossible or too much to ask for. I wish all the best for you. xo, J

  5. You may feel weak exposing these feelings to the light of your blog, but you are truly the bravest, sexiest, smartest writer I know. I want to give you all the hugs and to drink so much wine with you. (Give me a small glass for now.) Much love, sweet Hy.
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  6. Hy, please be patient with yourself. You are a delicate flower of emotions right now, I think. You are perhaps still smarting from TN’s rejection so any rejection becomes hyper-inflated for you. This includes both your Cinco de Mayo Bingo guy and your mom.

    Cinco guy perhaps rejected you because YOU didn’t want him. Perhaps his rejection was a defense from his perception that you weren’t into him. Regardless, I know what you mean — we want to ensnare every man that comes our way so when one gets away, regardless of whether we truly wants him, it does make us question our superpower. He was not worthy of your powers of attraction. He couldn’t handle the magnificent Hy.

    As for your body image concerns, please be kinder to yourself. You are breath-taking. I see your photos and sigh with delight and a little envy at your beauty. I am learning that men who love purely do so unconditionally. I have been a bit concerned with my body since exercise has taken a backseat to my relationship, but the Hunter loves me and my body as it is with no strings attached. What a blessing.

    Now your mom. Sigh. Parental relationships can be the most tangled. When my mom was alive she made holidays stressful as I felt pulled in several directions. My advice is simply love her for the time you have left with her. She may never be who you need or want her to be, but she is, after all, only human like the rest of us. I would suggest that you focus on showing your son how parents should be treated. He is watching you as you sort this out.

    Hugs, Maggie

    1. Who knows? I’m not framing it as rejection by TN at the moment, though. I realize fully that I would have been ending it at some point if he hadn’t. I really wasn’t happy.

      Re: Cinco Guy, who the fuck knows (or cares)? Ha! It was a bad date for him, as well, I guess, though I’m not at all sure why. But I am not going to try to figure that out because that would be putting the onus on me and I don’t want to do that. I was personable, polite, and a good conversationalist. I did my part. I also looked just like I said I did (44-32-44) with current full-body photos, so I’m not past the idea that I was some stupid physical let down. Screw that guy.

      Thanks for all the kindness and suggestions, Mags. I’m taking it all to heart. xx Hy

  7. Just thought I’d say hi and I hope the last two days have gone better for you…I’m sorry your rleationship with your mom is so complicated =( But ENJOY your Mother’s Day and I hope it’s a day filled with LOVE with your little guy

  8. You are perfect, whole and complete. There is nothing to fix or change… There is just your stand and your word. Love is acceptance, of who you are and of who you are not… Romance is just a break from reality. Suffering is being in an argument with that reality.

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