Sexuality Happens

Shhhhh. I’m going to tell you a secret.

I am a romantic at heart.

No, I still don’t like diamonds. Or gold. Or even rings for that matter. 

I don’t like many of the cliche, traditional things. I hate pink. Steak dinners are pointless for this vegetarian. And if you spray odd sweet smelly stuff on my sheets, I’m much more likely to be turned off than turned on.

But you know what? I’m sitting here, reminiscing about the only time a partner/boyfriend/girlfriend/lover gave me flowers.  They were stargazer lilies (one of my favorite types).

I say I don’t like flowers, that they’re too cliche. But you know what? I fucking love flowers.  I think it’s a defense mechanism. I’ve been in theatre since I was 5. And everyone always got flowers.  And my dad brought me a bouquet once or twice. But I haven’t gotten flowers at a show since he died when I was 13.  So I decided that I didn’t even like flowers, so that after curtain call, when everyone got beautiful bouquets, I won’t be upset that I didn’t.  And this carried over into the rest of my life.  As long as I didn’t expect sweet things, I wouldn’t be disappointed when they didn’t happen. It was like waiting for a cast list to post; if I expected to be cast in the chorus, and I was, great. And then if I got a big part, hurray. It was harder to be disappointed.

My HS boyfriend, while nice, was not romantic. Neither were the people I dated in college. So I convinced myself that all I wanted was support. J bought me those stargazer lilies, and honestly, those kept me going for a good while. F was not romantic, nor did I expect her to be.

It’s hard, because I like sex. I like fucking. I like deep academic discussions. People don’t expect me to want to cuddle (something I’m finally realizing how much I like. Another thing I convinced myself I didn’t like because I was afraid of being rejected over it), because it’s not sex. I like cuddling. I like spooning. I love Love Actually. I love stargazer lilies, black calla lilies, and sterling roses (black roses too, but those are harder to find). I love cute little romantic gestures. Or I think I do.

I guess I feel that I’m hard enough to date as is. I’m a sex blogger/sexuality educator, which people find intimidating. I’m kinky. I’m awkward. I’m disabled. I’m vivacious. I’m chubby. I’m alternative. I’m outspoken.  That’s a lot to ask from a partner, that I feel that I can’t honestly expect someone to be sweet and kind and romantic. I mean, why would anyone want to be with me as is, none the less if I wanted romance sometimes? I try to make up for all my failings, by trying to always be helpful, and available and as wonderful as possible to my partners, and my friends for that matter. But you know what? Right now, this very second, I am sitting here with tears streaming down my face because all I want is some flowers, or someone to genuinely want to be with me, and to be loving and silly and romantic.

Usually, I’m tougher about this, and cover it up well. But this weekend, at the Vagina Monologues, I got to see Kinsey and her partner interact. He brought her flowers, and came to both of the shows.  Apparently, last year he brought her sushi each night. They chatted, and he carried her stuff to the car because she was so exhausted. It was so sweet, and loving, and beautiful. Opening night, every single one of my friends (including those that I had set aside comp tickets for) flaked out and didn’t show.  Forget flowers, I didn’t even have an audience that was there for me…the only person that came who I knew was someone I haven’t seen in 3 years, and didn’t even expect to show.

So I came home and wrote this. I don’t want to always be tough, and I’m sick of trying not to expect or want  anything from anyone. I deserve friends and a partner (partners?) that care about me. People who I can stop sucking it up around, and pretending that I’m just fine sticking it out on my own. People to support me…by coming to my classes, or plays, or derby bouts. Do you know in the 8 months I’ve been in CO, not ONE friend has come to any of my workshops, and only two have come to bouts (one because I bought her a ticket).

So no, I don’t want a prince on a white horse riding off into the sunset. But for once, I’d like to wake up to brunch in bed, instead of me always being the one making tea and pancakes. And I’d like to open the door, or stroll out into the lobby to a bouquet of flowers. No, I’m not perfect…but I’m not so bad that I can’t get some romance every once in a while.

I can be a strong fierce Femme with a softer side.  Strength and sweetness are not mutually exclusive.

That’s all.

-Essin’ Em

EDIT: The second night of the show, both my friend from college, and F both brought me flowers…so I am now feeling very lovely and cared for. I don’t need flowers from a partner, just in general. :)