Tag Archives: mental health
It’s not you, it’s me
I don’t think I’m a very fun person at the moment, let’s start there. I used to be this irritatingly bouncy, joy-filled fucker who skipped from social event to social event with the words “isn’t this BRILLIANT” on my lips. I loved my friends, found pleasure in so many little things, and although life was often underscored by a pulsing beat of anxiety, usually I could keep that at bay with the promise of a pint in the sunshine and a decent playlist in my headphones as I stomped down the street to reach it.
He wants me, he wants me not
As I explained only a couple of weeks ago, I try not to make a habit out of eagerly anticipating a message from any given man. I don’t like checking my phone constantly on the off-chance that some guy decides he wants me. Regular readers know I always introduce these posts by saying ‘this… BUT’ though, so here comes the ‘BUT’… recently I’ve found myself itching to hear from somebody in particular. Refreshing my email (yes, I use email, I am forty one years of age and I like to ramble so email is my medium: deal with it, Zoomers) hoping for any kind of contact.
Guest blog: How to have sex again after a rape
Today’s guest blog is by an anonymous contributor, and reading it affected me so much that I don’t know how to capture that in an intro. It’s a stunning, raw, powerful story about having sex again after a rape, and I can’t tell you how grateful I am to this brilliant writer for sharing their journey. Note that the first half contains descriptions of rape and assault.
Guest blog: When all the ‘what if’s come at once
I’m a firm believer in the power of writing to help you work through your feelings. I often find myself halfway through a post, suddenly realising that the emotions I have about this or that story have evolved or become clearer as I’m writing: we are our stories, and trying to capture the narratives that run through our lives is such a powerful (and valuable) thing to do. Today’s guest blogger is writing to capture a bundle of complex emotions about FOMO, relationships, and life in his 40s that are tricky to label and digest. Especially because, when you’re polyamorous, many of the scripts we have around different life stages don’t quite seem to fit. Thank you so much Northern Boy, and I hope your thoughts can help other people who might be struggling with similar things…
1950s housewife / Trashfire
He’ll be home any minute so she has to do her hair. Curled and set, brushed out neatly before being shaped around her face so it looks like it was effortless. She selects her best outfit, one she knows he’ll find appealing. Emphasising her curves just enough but not too much. Making her look like an angel. Nails are polished. Legs already smooth – earlier that day she ran herself a bath and her skin is now powder-soft, like new-fallen snow. Bathed and moisturised and shaven and plucked and perfect. Man, I’m so glad I’m not a 1950s housewife!