Dear men looking to grab a woman through online dating,
Stop showing us you’re working out. Stop taking photos of yourself in the mirror at the gym. Stop trying to woo us and make our panties wet by showing your wood while working out.
Stop. Just stop trying to show how full of life you are by bulging your muscles. This is not the Stone Age. We do not need men who will go out to kill our dinner and save us from danger. We don’t need muscles to show us you’re healthy and wealthy to take care of us.
Respect women as your equal. Think about the message you are sending. Do you really want to tell us you think we are meek, weak creatures dependent on men?
Please. I beg you. Stop.
Today while running errands I went past our local adult shop. Our state is obsessed with legislating morality, so we don’t call it a sex shop, we call it a “lingerie” shop. I think a few are even called “marriage enhancement” shops. Haha!
I don’t know what sparked it, but I thought about the last time I was in the shop. It was with Steve. We shopped for fun things and talked about our sexual fantasies. I remember him leaning into me with his hard cock. It was awesome to share that “naughty” part with him and then enjoy all the excitement release after we left.
You know how hormonal I am right now. I came home and masturbated while I thought about getting sexy lingerie. How easy it would be to get an outfit, a wig, some incredibly sexy shoes and meet a stranger in a hotel room. How freeing it would be to let go of this tension and live another life for just a few minutes. Play the part of someone else while driving the stranger wild. Well, it didn’t take long before I climaxed. A long, warm orgasm filled my body. It’s been so long since it has come that easily for me. I lay catching my breath, closed my eyes and fell sound asleep.
I dreamt of being touched and kissed in all the places that turn me on. The strokes down my inner thigh. the wet lips on my hard nipples. A perfectly placed finger pushing my soft flesh inside my throbbing pussy. I love when my hair is played with and brushed softly. My number one G-spot has to be my neck just above my collar bone. How I love to have my hair brushed back from my neck to open it up to warm, soft kisses. Honestly, if done right, I am putty in the hands of a man when he has his lips upon me there.
Masturbation is a wonderful tool. A great release. But it lacks the intimacy which takes me to a deeper place. So, I won’t be getting the alter-ego costume to romp around the city living out sexual fantasies. I’ll wait a bit longer to see if the right one will come along.
Anger. Frustration. Irritability. Grrrr!!!
Friends, I am highly aware my hormones are affecting my reaction to the world today. I’m impatient with humanity. My kids have small pieces of trash they drop all over my living room. Opening their backpacks they drop candy wrappers, pieces of paper, broken pens and pencils. I tell them I want the trash picked up. A normal voice, normal request. They claim not to see it. 0-anger in no time. I yell.
I worked on changing my attitude on the drive to work. I took a quick walk before hitting the office. Yet when Talky McTalkerson comes into the office to make her social rounds, I again begin to boil. I put in my headphones to drown her out. It’s Luke she knew I was trying to ignore her, she stands in my doorway with her back to me and talks to group that’s gathered. She used MY DOORWAY to lean against while she held court. I turn up the music. Even Norah Jones cannot soothe my rattling nerves. This woman has complained for 4 days that she’s overwhelmed with her to-do list. I’ve bit my tongue to avoid telling her to actually work rather than socialize and maybe she’s feel better. Today it took all I could muster not to scream at her.
Today is a very busy day for me. I don’t have time to deal with the normal socialness that women tend to be drawn to. On normal days without hormones I struggle being a part of the woman culture. I’m not a task master who has to be ties to my desk slaving away, but I also don’t need to share baby urination habits and hearing about the latest yoga poses. I don’t want the co-worker down the hall to come in to be reassured she’s a good mother. I don’t care that daycare teachers are not what you want. And I truly, truly don’t are what the latest fashion trends and where people have bought their clothes. We are not at a coffee shop. We are at work!!
Grrr I say. Grrr. Now why isn’t this meeting starting!
The confidence I had dafter trying on lingerie has left me. As I squeeze must into sausage casing for an elegant evening, I realize I’m still very much a large woman.
For months I’ve been working at reshaping my outer body and focusing on becoming healthy. Today was supposed to be a triumph. Although I still have half way to go for my ultimate goal, I thought I was making progress.
Maybe it’s all the spandex which emphasizes the feeling of glut. I went through not one, but two pair of support hose before abounding them entirely. Some of that may be the long nails and lack of finesse when dressing myself, but that’s not the first place your mind goes to when you hear the split.
Let me say I did have several unsolicited compliments tonight. Some out of kindness of knowing me. One from a complete stranger which caught me off guard. I heard what people were saying, but didn’t feel the words rung true. I saw myself in photos. Still the largest one in the bunch. Disappointing. And still I came home alone to an empty house. No one there to wrap up with and share my buzz from the evening cocktails. And yes, I am equating the aloneness with the beauty that escapes me.
My heart aches for someone to love me. To hold me tight and tell me I am loved and beautiful and desired and wanted. Someone who is proud of the me I am. Who sees my heart and wants to bask in all that radiates from me. Someone to send me flowers and texts just because they’re thinking of me.
As I roll off the sausage casing and wipe off the makeup to reveal the lumps and bumps, the wrinkles and pours, I know sincerely I want someone who will tell me with their heart that I do look wonderful tonight.
I am spending Labor Day weekend purging my closets and cleaning the house. It’s needed to be done for a long so it’s nice to have some time to work done.
I began on my undergarments. There’s bras that no longer fit and panties that are too worn. Then I decided to try on some teddies that have sat in the back of closet gathering dust. The leopard print is now too big. The cups stick out and the flesh doesn’t fill them right. The blue one is alright, but it doesn’t feel comfortable as it opens below the ribbon. My stomach isn’t my strong suit so I think I’ll get rid of that one too. The two red ones are fitting pretty nicely. Better than when I bought them. I feel sexy. I’ve missed feeling sexy.
Last night I had a wonderfully erotic dream. Bizarre too. I was angry because it was Holy Saturday and I had forgotten to get the kids Easter baskets. Then I was in the tad of neighbors who invited me in for a three way. I was in the midst of touching and caressing. Manly muscles all around me. Then when I went to give head, his cock was a bunch of M&Ms.
Weird right. I woke up horny as hell. I grabbed the vibrator and tried to get off. I did, but Christ it took a long time and was less than thrilling.
Now feeling sexy, I wish I had a man. Dang.
I’ve had more obstacles in getting healthy than I expected. I realized that it would be hard work and have to make some sacrifices, but gemni I’m done!
My heel is not getting any better and I actually didn’t go work out yesterday because it was just too much. After another morning of aches, I decided to google what the heck is going on. Some searching found Plantar Fascitits. It accurately describes the pain so it gives me hope that it can be cured.
The suggestions from the research suggested buying some arch support, use some tape to hold the muscles and change over to exercise that is less hard on the feet. So today I did the stationary bike. It didn’t feel like as an intense workout, but my feet didn’t hurt as much after. Perhaps I need to make this change for a little while.
As you know, I began this healthy kick because some of my blood tests came back concerning. Finally I made the decision to make the necessary changes. I’ve been waiting on some follow up results and becoming anxious about what it all means. It’s gotten in my head. Failing at the lifestyle changes is not an option for me so I’m hyper anxious wanting to know things will be alright.
Of course, if this were a typical situation, no one would be so over-the-top concerned with a little high numbers. When the doctor’s office finally called back, they were quite understated and unhelpful in their response. I broke down my worries and have an appointment to see the doctor next week. But, I’m left feeling sheepish for being emotional about everything that’s happening. I’m angry they would put me in a place that I had to defend my concerns and feeling foolish for being so concerned.
Driving home yesterday, I tried to better understand things happening in my mind. Much of the issues are everyday occurrences which millions of people deal with everyday including my siblings. They didn’t make a dramatic issue of it.
Then I thought about the driving factor to be healthy – to live – for a long time. To be with my kids, watch them grow and become young adults. Watch them become their own person and take on their own set of challenges and successes. It is thinking about them without me which causes extreme strain on my mind. I remember the grief of losing a parent and want to do everything I can to help them avoid that pain – at least for anytime in the future.
Strangely, it’s if I’m grieving all over again. Dredging up the pain that I thought had long ago healed. The answers I’m seeking aren’t so much for me, but for what I’ve lost. That probably doesn’t make sense anywhere but in my own head. It does help me understand why I have become so obsessed and wound up to get answers. I don’t want guesses or maybes. I want certainty.
I guess that’s the case with all things in life isn’t it?
I didn’t create this ecard, so I know for a fact I’m not the only one wishing to keep the attractive meat while whittling away at the unattractive. I am doing a lot of weight machines that focus on my chest to try to lift up the sagging flesh enough to attract the wandering eye of a passing stranger. Sadly, it hasn’t made much of a difference yet. But there’s still hope.
Exercising this late in life after being fairly sedentary has brought about it’s own set of issues. Muscles ache, feet hurt, back seizes up…all in the name of health? Seems I felt much better before! Haha. I decided that I needed a massage and scheduled one at a local school to save myself some money. Just in time too! I woke up in the middle of the night with so much pain in my back I was struggling to get a deep breath.
After my shower I decided to try an adhesive heating pad. It wasn’t exactly made for the mid-back and it was incredibly hard to reach (why I need a mate hanging around the house!) but it did seem to help. I also did some yoga stretches to see if I could release any tension. Between that and the ibuprofen, I was able to make it to the gym this afternoon promising to take it easy and assuring myself the massage would do the trick. And it did help – a bit of soreness there but light years better than before.
I want to do a couples massage so badly. While I waited to go back to get my muscles beat upon there were two couples waiting and another that was coming out. It feels so romantic and intimate. I was jealous of how connected they were. Of course, in my mind after the massage comes some freaky,passionate sex. So, maybe I’m just needing a good one-on-one massage! Right now would be the perfect time too – I smell delicious and am somewhat flexible!