“I Am Just a Dreamer, and You Are Just a Dream.” – Neil Young

A couple weekends ago, I spent the entire weekend getting rid of a bunch of junk.  While I was going through stuff, I found a box containing essays I wrote for school, articles I wrote for my local newspaper while I was on their Community Editorial Board, some erotic fiction I wrote just for fun…and a bunch of poetry I had typed – on a typewriter - on crumbling pages. 

It really surprised me to find this stash of writing, especially the poems.   I had completely forgotten that I used to write so much.  But as soon as I saw them, I remembered there was a time when I carried around a notebook everywhere I went.   I’d scribble things down as they came to me and then piece it all together later. 

Poems were my very favourite thing to write (and read, actually!).  I was obsessed with technique, with literary devices, with transforming the imagery in my head into words…… inspired by my muses, encouraged by acid trips, fed by the fantasy world I prefer to live in.   My imagination is very visually driven.  Beautiful pictures and images constantly flood through my mind….and, I love writing, so poetry is the perfect vehicle for me:  lush language expressing what I see in my head without having to worry about practical things like plot, character or dialogue.

Back when I used to write poetry, I always had my hand on a creative pulse:  I designed and made clothes; I sketched and painted; I wrote; I played musical instruments.  I remember always thinking how terrible everything I created was.  I destroyed so many pieces because I just thought they were horrible, and who did I think I was trying to be an artist of any kind.   I was certainly too embarrassed to show my creative work to anyone I knew, which is silly, I now realize.  The only way to improve is to be criticized, so what was I so afraid of?  I tried a few times to get publishers interested in my written work, but the only things I ever sold were a few erotic pieces to Penthouse, which is really funny considering my complete lack of sexual experience at the time.

I don't know why, but when I found my poems, I was surprised to see how sexually suggestive my poetry is.  Again....I had very limited experience when I wrote these poems.  What I had was an extravagant imagination, an overactive libido and the unfortunate habit of falling madly in love with people I was attracted to.   By the time I finished my first year of university, I loved 3 male friends and one female friend….some more platonically than others.    I didn’t abandon one as I found another…I had plenty of adoration for the four of them.  They were my muses and the hardcore love I felt for them lasted for years.  I still occasionally see two of them and even now, 20 years later, my heart still skips a beat for them.

I’ve been thinking a lot about love and sex – relationships in general – for a long time.  This has been a significant focus for me for a while.  Oh, who am I kidding…..it’s always been a focus for me!  I really am a very love/sex motivated person and, for me, they are one in the same……one is not very satisfying without the other.  And when both are present, well…there’s no greater high.  That is an uncomfortable thing for me to acknowledge, but I might as well just accept it.    I know it’s true.....I have all these poems that reveal my true nature staring me in the face so I really can't deny it.

I wrote a lot of poems inspired by love and - for me - profound love and intense, erotic sex are a package deal.....that was the expectation I had for my life.  So I guess it should be no surprise that my poetry is sexually charged.  It also should not then surprise me that I have engaged in casual sex throughout my adult life.  I know that sounds contradictory……but to me it makes sense that if I can’t have love without great sex then I may as well find out right away whether or not great sex with someone is a possibility…… each encounter as almost like a job interview.  If it’s not there, then I need to move on to the next candidate.  Why waste everyone’s time?  Outside of sex, there are plenty of ways to build a connection and find common ground.  Sexual chemistry just cannot be forced…it’s there or it isn’t, so for me, it makes sense to start there.

There’s a part of me that loves the idea of being single forever.  I can imagine it.  I don’t really get lonely by myself.  I enjoy my own company.  In fact, I need time alone....I actually crave it and feel smothered when I don't get it.  I can go to a restaurant, to the movies, travel….wherever….. alone, and not feel awkward about it at all.  I can definitely take care of my own sexual needs.  It feels very comfortable and natural to me to be alone. 

But I know this isn’t really what I want in life.  That feeling of wanting to be single is a reaction to the expected "practicalities" of relationships…..the way coupled people have more disposable income together, more benefits, live longer, are “respected” by society, can travel more cheaply, etc.  These practicalities really piss me off.  They fly in the face of my romantic view of relationships.  I hate the pressure to couple up for practical reasons.  If I commit to someone, I want it to be a choice based completely on love…where only the free will of both people makes them want to be together.  I hate the idea that someone would be with me or I with them for some sort of tangible gain.

I don’t have the same desire for a steady, predictable, safe life like many people I know do.  Not that there’s anything wrong with a steady, predictable, safe life….it’s all about what makes you happy and that does not make me happy.   Ever since I was a kid, I would infuriate my parents by asking them how they can stand “normal” life:  Get a job, get married, have kids, pay bills, get up at 6am, go to bed at 11pm, take out on Saturday nights, TV every night before bed, live with the same person for the rest of your life, same boring routine week after week…..I just didn’t see how anyone could be inspired by that life.  What is there to live for?  Every day is the same as the next.  Where’s the excitement…the passion…the adventure......the stuff of poetry?

Now that I'm an adult and have to face the realities of relationships and life just like everyone else, casual sex kind of helps me insert that adventure and excitement into my otherwise regular life.  And the last of my recent casual sex partners has, unexpectedly, become one of my biggest cheerleaders, one of my greatest friends and one of my best lovers….a truly unexpected gift.  I met Rick right after Christmas…right before my sleeve surgery. We had an easy rapport when we met online...we had a lot to talk about.  And it turned out he had a pretty important role to play in  my life.  The guy who raped me was black.  It kills me to admit this but since then, I was afraid of black men.  I was never interested in them sexually or romantically.  Rick changed all that for me. 

On our first date, we exchanged stories about other people we’ve casually met.  I mentioned a guy I had met a couple weeks earlier who wasn’t interested in me when we met.  I talked about how silly I felt because I couldn’t stop thinking about him.  I would lay awake at night thinking about this guy.  Rick decided to make it his personal mission to make me forget about that guy.  And he has tried.  He's been way more supportive, loving and selfless to me than I have been to him….if anyone could make me forget about “my ideal man”, it would be Rick....he's amazing and I love spending time with him.

Unfortunately, I’m still into the other guy, and, understandably, it’s a huge source of tension between Rick and I.  I won’t commit to Rick, for many reasons, but one of them definitely is this other guy.  Regardless of what this other guy chooses to do, it seems wrong to me to commit to Rick when I know how I feel about someone else.  I know to most people it would be ridiculous to make that choice.  I’m spending quality time with a fantastic man who truly cares about me, meanwhile this silly infatuation for someone else I barely know…someone who could not care less if I live or die…completely pre-occupies me.  I can practically hear Katy Perry singing “Teenage Dream” every time I think about him…it’s so embarrassing, which is of course why I had to talk about it here. 

My penchant for fantasy gets the better of me sometimes, I think. But in this case, I'm not so sure it's such a bad thing.  Somehow, and I'm not really sure how or why, but this other guy  brings me right back to a time in my life when I wrote poetry.  He brings me back to a time when I loved myself and felt like I could do and be anything.  He brings me back to a time before I was raped, before I experienced a lot of the ugliness in the world.  I walk around giggly and smiling because of him.  He makes me feel 16 again. 

I've talked to Sam and Rick both about this other guy.  Sam told me that my problem is I decide I want something, I get it and then I want something else.  I’m never satisfied with what I have.  Rick implied that I am fickle and keeping my options open for “someone better”. 

I can see why both of them think what they do but I really don’t agree with either one of them.  I have been completely and totally satisfied in a relationship.  And I certainly don’t think there’s anyone “better” than the men who have been and are in my life.  I’m not “settling” for “lesser” men until I can upgrade.  That implies that my wanting to end my marriage with Sam, that my unwillingness to commit to Rick shows that they are deficient somehow, which is not the case.  And I don’t think I’m deficient either.  I can't help how I feel, I can only be honest about it.

I have always felt a kind of restlessness.  Some people are really good at one thing, or they become interested in doing one thing, and that’s what they focus on and pursue.  Not me.  I have always felt pulled in a million directions.  Jack of all trades, master of none……that’s me.  I learned to play the flute for the band in high school but got bored with it so I switched to sax.  I am fascinated by the law…so in university I wrote the LSAT just to see if I could pass it…and I did.  But law school seemed too much of a commitment.  So I dropped out of university and went to college for fashion design.  Then I missed literature so I went back to university.  Then I hated school so I started working at the adult novelty store across the street from my house. I grew up in a family business…..being self-employed has always been super exciting to me.  So I started a web design business.   And on and on it goes.  I don’t know how else to describe it except to say that I have a lot of interests…I’ve been exposed to a lot of different people and ways of life…. and I want to pursue them all, so I end up doing none of them for long or very well.
This restlessness makes me a bit of a chameleon.  I can talk to anyone.  I can do anything (not in a super hero kind of way).  I can feel at home anywhere with all kinds of people.  Every person I'm attracted to appeals to me for a different reason…appeals to a different side of me.  If I decide to move on, it isn’t because I’ve found someone “better”, it’s because I’m ready to explore a different side of myself.  For me, spending time with someone is a fantastic way to explore parts of yourself.  I don’t like to feel that parts of me are being suppressed by a relationship.  I suppose that’s why, in general, I don’t believe in monogamy.  Finding someone I can relate to on all levels is difficult….but not impossible.  My romantic self tells me it IS possible. 

I realize I am pretty alone in this way of thinking.  Most people’s idea of love and sex and relationships seem different than mine.  And I have to admit that my romantic leanings took a big hit when one of my muses declared himself my enemy and then the rape happened.  1994 was just not a good year.  After that, my romantic ideals of sex, love and relationships were quite tainted, so maybe I am completely off base approaching love, sex and relationships the way I do. 

But I’m starting to get those ideals back.  You know how you can hear a song or smell something that immediately takes you back to a specific moment in time?  These poems do that for me.  I remember what each and every single one of them is about and how I felt writing them.  As soon as I saw the poems, I remembered that I wanted to “preserve” them so I decided to type them all out instead of just letting them live in my notebook full of scribbles.  I didn’t have a typewriter, so I used my friend’s.  I’d go to her apartment and she’d play the Proclaimers over and over while I typed away.  Little did I know as I sat there typing that in a few months my life would completely change right there in her very apartment, and that she and I would ultimately  never speak again.

The poems aren’t dated, sadly, but I can tell from their content when I wrote which poems.  When I found these poems and started reading, I realized I haven't written a single poem all since I was raped.  That realization made me incredibly sad.  But it also reminded me of the creativity I am capable of….reminded me of the longing and desire that is so much a part of me and I felt reassured about the direction my life is now headed. Sam and I ending our marriage was the right thing for both of us. 

If I am completely honest, my relationship with Sam has always been overshadowed by a secret I was keeping about him from most of my friends and family.  Sam is transgender.  He was born female and transitioned to male many years ago.  The fact that I kept this secret  - not that he is transgender - made me feel horrible, from the time I met him to the present day.  I have been really uncomfortable throughout the course of our relationship because I was keeping this secret and it bothered me that I chose to deny something so important about my partner.   It felt like I was ashamed of Sam, which I was not.  It felt like I didn’t trust my family and friends, which isn’t true.  The truth is much simpler…I was just a coward and didn’t have the guts to deal with the complication of how people would react.  I didn’t want to spend my time talking about it with people.  I knew the day would come when I was no longer ok with keeping this secret and that day has come.
The relationship with Sam was, for me, also a way of making amends.  As I have mentioned in a previous post, I volunteered at the K-W Sexual Assault Support Centre after I was raped.  When I left there, I didn’t leave just because I was burned out from volunteering full time for 3 years, although I was burned out.  I was asked to leave.  I had unintentionally outed a transgender woman who had recently started volunteering there with me.  I thought everyone knew she was transgender.  But they didn’t and my outing her caused her major grief and started a chaotic mess at the Centre that resulted in other volunteers going to the media.

So, in some twisted way, Sam did fulfill a very specific role for me.  Being with him somehow helped me feel better about outing that woman. 

I mentioned earlier in this post that I fell in love with a female friend when I was in university.  I have always been "bisexual"…..although I don't really call myself that. I don’t like to label myself because I find labels really.....misleading, I suppose.  But I have always known I was attracted to men and women. I knew it since I was a kid, I’m pretty sure my parents knew it, although we never talked about it, and some of my friends knew it too.   All my earliest sexual experiences were with other girls.  For me, being with women feels safer…and that is not because I was raped by a man, I’ve always felt that way.  I can’t imagine sharing my life with another woman though….the attraction is really just sensual and safe….very different than the feelings I have for men.

With Sam I felt like I was getting the best of both worlds….a guy who knew what it was like to be a woman.  A guy who understood the complexities of sexual orientation and gender and how those two things are completely different.  A guy who describes himself as a feminist.  A guy with a steady, predictable job and his own house and car who I could feel secure with.  It’s not that I wanted to use him….I loved him.  I love him still.  I thought the balance of the practical and all the things we have in common would help me feel good about being in a “real” relationship.  I put all my silly fantasies away and tried to be a respectable married woman. 

It is such a weird thing to be doing what I’m doing right now.  Unless you have a reason to do it, I’m not sure many people put themselves through a process like this where you take stock, challenge  every thing you own, every person you know, every thought in your head, every belief you have about yourself and the world, every bite you eat, what you see in the mirror, reveal to everyone all your secrets and hidden places, examine every thing you have ever done…all  to find the real you and make sure the life you’re living is the life that reflects who you really are.  For me, that’s what this weight loss surgery experience is all about.  Maybe for other people it’s different but for me, this is it.   I can’t really imagine having long term success after surgery without doing this.  I’ve tried that…it didn’t work. 

Even though my life and my relationships have largely resembled a steady, predictable life much more than I am comfortable with, I have not given up the idea that someday, my life could be as exciting, passionate, and beautiful as poetry.  I think if I could get out of my own way, it could be.  In fact, that ideal is more firmly planted in my head than it has been in years.    But that’ll never happen if I don’t stop bullshitting myself and I keep on ignoring what I know to be true about myself and what I want from a relationship.

I know poetry is not everyone's thing, but if you're so inclined, take a look.  I've published it all here on three separate pages.  And if you're out there reading, let me know what you think!  About poetry......mine or anyone else's..... love, sex, relationships, whatever! 

 

Random Stuff:

·         In high school, I could play the saxophone, flute, guitar and piano…but still I always wanted to be a singer. 

·         I HAVE to have my phone or iPod plugged in to my car while I’m driving so I can access my playlists.

·         I sing in my car while I’m driving.  Loudly.  This is how I avoid road rage and play out my fantasy of being a rock star.  Sometimes people think I’m yelling at them while I’m driving, but nope…I’m just singing.

·         For me, one of the best parts of a road trip is the opportunity to listen to hours and hours of music.  Whenever Sam and I took a road trip together, whoever drove got to decide what to listen to and Sam always picked audiobooks, which put me to sleep in two minutes flat.

·         I still have my tonsils and all my wisdom teeth. 

·         I never had braces.  I got the great teeth, my brother got the great eyesight.

·         I have a very serious boot obsession.  I suppose shoes too, but the boots I like are more kick-ass than shoes.

·         Sadly, tall boots never fit me because of my calves.  This was true even when I was a kid.  Years of English horseback riding gave me huge calves, I guess.

·         I am addicted to Aveda products and have been for 25 years.  My faves:  Rosemary Mint Bath Bar, Hand Relief and Confixor.  You know, just in case someone wants to buy me a gift or something.

·         I also love getting flowers, but not lilies.  Those are funeral flowers and they smell like death to me.    Plus, they’re bad for my cats.