Sexuality Happens

Since I came back from Florida, it’s been non-stop. Q’s sister was in town visiting from Long Island. Jamye Waxman was in town to speak. Q started her first day as a grad school professor. I still haven’t had time to process all the emotion and family drama from my Florida trip, and Q is on a meditation kick (which I’m trying to do daily, and seems to give me headaches).

The result? Right now, we have an incredibly mercurial relationship, almost bi-polar. One minue, we’re holding hands, looking into each others’ eyes, sharing frozen yogurt, being all lovey dovey. The next, we’re arguing with each other about little things, being nit picky, almost ignoring each other.

People keep telling me it’s Mercury in retrogade. I don’t normally believe in that, but we all like to cling to something to explain why our lover and ourselves have suddenly started acting bi-polar towards the relationships…and I mean hell, Mercurial (the temperament/actions) and Mercury sure sound alike, right?

But it’s made me realize, along with some posts on Alphafemme’s blog, that relationships constantly require work, even if they’re working out just fine. Being complacent about the relationship leads to things getting stale, or issues not being worked out. However, I’m also realizing that working on and improving relationships takes a lot of hard work.

This is the longer sexual/lover relationship I’ve ever been in. I mean, I’ve made friendships work for years. My best friend Annabelle and I have been friends since 2002, and my best friend E and I since 1999. Clearly, I can handle long term relationships/friendships, including their natural ups and downs.

However, I’m new to making long term lovers/partner relationships work. I didn’t realize how hard it can be, how much effort need to be involved in truly communicating (instead of just saying yes and no, or I like this/don’t like this), how much it can hurt as we work through our issues, as well as personal issues that get brought up.

I’ve never been a highly emotional person before, but I am often with Q, because I just have so much love and trust for her, which seems to bring out this side. I need to work hard not on pushing them down, but not letting them run wild. I let little things hurt more than they should, and I feel a lot of my OCD-ness and anxiety returning, something which I would like not to happen.

Then there is the disability thing. As things get worse, and I have more bad days, and hospital visits, I always get worried that something will be the last straw, and she won’t want to deal with me anymore. I’m trying to figure out how to even phrase this feeling. I’m not sure yet.

I have a huge fear of being left/abandoned by those I love; friends and partners alike. It happened with Julius, and with Nikki, and with the Kinky Whore, and I’m terrified it’s going to happen with Q. It’s not logical, I know, but I have a history of people I love leaving me. Can I trace it back to daddy issues, and my father dying when I was 13? Possibly. Who knows? Regardless, no matter how much I trust Q, I still have this voice in the back of my head, especially whenever we’re aruging or trying to improve things, telling me that “if you don’t do it right, if you mess up at all, Q is going to leave you, just like everyone else.” I need to figure out how to quiet that voice, and trust in Q and in what we have together.

Q pointed out to me that relationships cannot thrive and grow unless we ourselves thrive and grow. Whether that is through writing, therapy, meditation (I’ve decided I’ll try it daily for 3 weeks, and then decide if it is in fact helping me), etc, we have to, as individuals, work on ourselves in order to work on our relationship.

And so, I’m working on harnessing my emotions, learning to let things go. I’m trying to not attach so much importance to little things. I’m trying to re-create more of my own life here. It’s hard. I don’t really have friends. I strongly dislike the kink community, there is no queer community, and most of the lesbians we’ve met drink a lot and do drugs, neither of which is for me. I’m having a hard time creating my own life outside of Q and my relationship because I’m in an area where I don’t fit, where I don’t belong. I think that’s part of the issue.

And I’m going to work on, I’m not sure how, but I’m going to work on this fear of abandonment. I’m open to suggestions, ideas, etc. How do you convince yourself to leave your past alone and trust in the future and in your parnter, completely?

-Essin’ Em

Part of this post is part of my 30 Days of Letters blog endeavor. This would be Day 2, a letter to my partner/crush. However, it also just so happens to be Q’s 25th birthday, and so I’m combining it.

First of all, today is Q’s 25th birthday (she likes the TMNT a lot, hence the graphic). If you feel so inclined, leave a comment here, or head over to Q’s Twitter with your birthday wishes. Happy birthday baby! No more young driver costs on rental cars — w00t!

And now, my letter.

Dear Q/baby/stud muffin/etc,

I love you, period. I love you more and more every day. I never knew I could love a person so much, and in so many different ways, and more and more and more. I am so happy every single day of my life to have you in it.

Thank you for putting up with me. With my crankiness in the mornings, with my epic fear of bugs (although I did kill that one — I really do hope you’re proud of me, as it was one of the scariest moments of my life), with my messy house style, with my animal print obsession, with our cats and how they get along, with my late nights and travel, with my sex toys scattered around the house, with my pain issues and migraine issues and knee issues, with me being emotionally needy at times. Thank you for working on your communication skills, and for never leaving or going to bed angry (frustrated, perhaps, but never angry).

You do so many amazing things, and I am so incredibly proud of you. The work you’ve done on the campus making it a safer and more inclusive place for LGBTQ students, staff and faculty is just unbelievable, especially given not having a budget, having four campuses, 70,000 students, and the pay check of someone barely out of undergrad. You put your mind to something, and it will be accomplished; that is how dedicated (and at times, stubborn) you are. I just wish your job appreciated you more — you completely deserve it.

I know we have rough patches…whether it’s having to learn to live my my trips to doctors, hospital and ERs, or me learning to live with your sometimes wacky school schedule, we make it work. As gross as it seems, I just can’t even imagine my life without you at this point, so please don’t ever make me have to.

I’m always a little scared. Despite what might seem to be a tough and self-confident exterior, I’m always questioning. Am I pretty enough, am I smart enough, am I dedicated enough, am I good enough. When my knees came to the forefront of our lives, I questioned whether you’d think it was too much, whether you’d give up and leave me because it’s a lot of work, and emotion and scary as fuck to deal with all this. I know it’s hard, and so I will always question how someone can love me enough to deal with it. This has nothing to do with how much I love or trust you; it has to deal with me, and how I view myself. Please don’t let this push you away.

You’re smart, funny, witty, vibrant, silly, deep, introspective, hot, studly, and just over all the best partner (and cat co-parent) that I could ever imagine. Even better, in fact.

<3,

-Essin’ Em

This summer, Q has been playing on a softball league with people from work.  It’s every Sunday night, and I have gone, sat at, and watched every single game she has played in, except for one when I was recovering from my knee drama. Everyone. I am the only partner of a team member that has attended more than one game, and I’m the one people use to guilt their partners into coming to watch (“But Q’s partner comes to every single game — you can’t even come support me once?”). Before and after the game, we hug and kiss. During the game, I cheer for her (El Guapo) and the rest of the team, and make snarky remarks about how good her ass looks while batting. We’ve gone out to eat with the team after a game, and talked a little about wedding plans, held hands, etc.

Last Sunday, someone was looking for a pen. I had just lent the coach one, and he’d given it back.  The coach looked at the pen-less guy and said, loud enough for me to hear from the bleachers; “Need a pen? Q’s ROOMMATE has one.”

Roommate. Yes. He said that. Thank the mooses for Q, who quick said “Um, she’s my partner. PARTNER.” Now, the coach didn’t hear it, and he didn’t really care…but Q is usually not that assertive, and so her saying that made me feel better, and so much more validated.

Ok. Now if you had *just* met us, I could see using the term roommate, if you didn’t know. But wouldn’t it be more poignant to use “friend” if you weren’t sure of some one’s relationship status? Calling me her roommate is so fucking 50s. It completely discounts our relationship, which you have clearly seen, heard, and know to exist. It’s telling us we’re not good enough to have a relationship, that we can’t really be in love. We’ve been delegated back down to roommates.

Now, we almost exclusively use the term partner, and prefer people use the same when referring to us. However, in certain circumstances, we use the term “girlfriend” if that is the best way for someone (like our grandparents) to wrap their mind around our relationship. While I don’t particularly like “girlfriend,” if that is the best way for you to understand us, then fine, use it.

I don’t really like fiance either, because that boils everything back down to the wedding, and our relationship is so much more than a celebration of love. She is my partner every moment of every day…she’s only my fiance when we’re planning/talking about the wedding. But if you call her my fiance, or vice versa, fine. I can deal. At least you’re validating our relationship.

Call her my “special friend” (or me hers), and you’re in for a snarky comment like “yes, she is my special friend. My vagina’s special friend to be exact.” What the hell does special friend mean? But at least, with that, you’re implying special, as in more important that ordinary relationships, and friend, as in a chosen relationship.

With roommate, you have 100% completely invalidated our relationship. How dare you. I would never ever ever refer to your wife of however many years as “that lady you live with.” Not ever. So how can you, seeing our interactions, hear the terms we use and our wedding plans, relegate us to “roommates.” Fuck you.

She’s not my fucking roommate. She’s my lover, my partner, my friend, my fiance, my confidant, my muse, my kitty co-parent, my salvation, my amusement, and oh so much more.

By Jesse Hernandez

While in Colorado, Q and I had the chance to meet up with one of my BFF’s new relatives (since she got married). He’s this fabulous gay photographer, and as part of our celebration of love involves supporting “family” members as much as possible, we had him do our engagement shoot.

I can’t share a lot of the pictures of both of us, as I’m trying to respect our privacy (and particularly, Q’s), but this is one of just me. I look a little silly, as I’m still in my bridesmaid get up (and the dress was not only not the most flattering, but actually falling apart), and Jesse had me take off my glasses for it, and I feel like I look so odd without my glasses, but it’s a very dynamic photo none the less.

I love our shoot with Jesse Hernandez, and highly recommend him. He travels all over the US shooting big events (including lots of Prides, drag shows and more), and is a superstar. More over, he’s a good person with a great heart, and he made me and Q feel really special in some of the pictures he took.  Thanks Jesse!

Happy Half Nekkid Thursday to everyone!

-Essin’ Em

So as some of your may remember, last year at Sex 2.0 in DC, I shot for GoodDykePorn.com with the lovely Sabrina Morgan. In the last year plus, I’ve decided to work more on shooting actively from behind the camera, more as a videographer and/or director. This May, I participated in Shine Louise Houston’s Point of Contact project, and then back in June, I was lucky enough to get to shoot a local butch/femme identified couple for Good Dyke Porn.

May I introduce the hot and sexy Dylan Starr and Dani Starr, a real life queer couple based in AZ? They had a fun shoot, with a little bit a fantasy, a little bit of kink, and a whole hell of a lot of steamy sex; oral, anal, toys, kissing, and much more. I loved getting to shoot them; I hope you enjoy watching them just as much!

Click here to see their shoot (and a ton of others) on GDP!

Inspired by the Slutty Friend, I’ve decided to make a list of things that turn me on, that make me say “oooh” or “ahhh” or “mmmm.” These are in no particular order.

-Essin’ Em

*Ties (especially gender queer/butch people wearing them)

*Q, especially when dressed up, and properly mohawked

*Eyeglasses

*Lighting

*Massages

*Thunder

*Dark Chocolate

*Ice Cream

*People passionate for social justice

*Corsets/Cinchers

*Gender queer-ness/Gender fuckery

*Other people packing

*The Hitachi Magic Wand

*Duct Tape on my Moose

*Kisses on my neck

*Knives

*Vampire Gloves

*The smell of books (especially old books)

*Black nitrile gloves

*Vaginal Fisting

*Queer Porn

*Introspective Tattoos

*Train rides

*Hotel beds

*Hot tubs

*Pools

*Being submerged

*Snow/rain/fog

*Fire

*Lilac/magnolias/lily of the valley/gladiolas scents

*Leopard print

*Certain music

*Pedicures (this is new, as of last week)

*Having my head pet

*Cuddling

*Grasshoppers (the drink)

*Breasts

The other day, I tried to join a group on FetLife. In their “about us” section, they ask that all cisgender people email a moderator (despite this being Queer AND Trans group) before adding the group.  I don’t really identify as cis, since femme is my gender, and that breaks the binary, but I didn’t want anyone feeling that I was breaking the rules, as I visibly appear to be cis, so I messaged a moderator, little did I know what I was getting myself into.

I got a message back telling me that I was not “ready” for this group, as clearly I needed “Trans 101.” Why? Because I was sick of men messaging me with cock pictures asking if I wanted to play, so I directed all “bio/cis men” to my pro-domme site, telling them I didn’t have sex outside of my relationship with Q (and porn), and that if they wanted me to beat them up, I’d be happy to oblige. For money.

I purposely used the term bio in this context because most of the people messaging me on FetLife that fell into the cock-picture/play with me group would not understand the term cis or cisgender. I reached out to them where they were at. Apparently, this means I need Trans 101.

Their other complaint? I didn’t write enough about femme being my gender on my profile for it to be true. Clearly, I was just making that up. Because it’s not like I don’t write enough here and on the Femme’s Guide about Femme being a gender, and an identity, and so much more than just the feminine side of the spectrum. I ALSO needed to put it on a social network profile page for it to be true (please note, I don’t write about it on Facebook either. Why? Because I’d rather write about why I’m there, promote my blogs, and then have people come read my thoughts on gender in a blog format, rather than a note on Facebook or FetLife).

What I don’t think this person realized as they spat out hateful words towards me was exactly how much they’d hurt. I don’t identify as trans, no. I also don’t think anyone (trans or otherwise) can master gender. Why? Gender is ever constant, ever evolving. Anyone who said they know everything there is about gender is a liar, because by the time they say that, something else will have changed as people create and develop their own identities.

But for them to tell me I needed Trans 101?  Ouch. I like to think I have a fairly good grasp on trans and gender queer ettiquite, having had trans partners (and currently engaged to a person who identifies as gender queer), and having many friends of ALL different identities. I have personally chatted with Kate Bornstein as I drove her around Phoenix. I have shot for Point of Contact making sure people of all genders (including someone who identifies as a T-girl) were represented. I start the majority of my classes/workshops talking about how not everyone with a vagina is a woman, and not every woman has a vagina, etc. In smaller workshops, I ask everyone their pronoun preference before they begin. I’m teaching a workshop for TRANSform Arizona this fall on Safer Sex for Transfolk and Their Lovers (named as such by the trans organizers of this conference). I was always pointing out the difference between sex and gender, and the need to not make assumptions throughout my grad school program. I read gender theory on a regular basis. I try to change cisgender centric policies wherever I go, including aruging with local coffee shops and restaurants about creating gender neutral bathrooms.

I try to be as much of an ally as I can to ALL members of the queer community – this includes speaking out against biph0bia, validating those who are lesbian or gay identified (rather than queer identified), using my visible feminitity to educate those who might not listen to someone who presents differently, working to change policies/laws/rules to be more gender friendly, etc. For someone to tell me I need to take “Trans 101″ cut me pretty deep.

Should it matter? No. I have plenty of friends of all genders and orientations, and they were quick to tell me when this happened how much they appreciated me. However, after all my work in trying to support the T part of the queer community, and to educate myself and others, and to just be there to listen, it fucking hurts to have someone say that to me. I’m a member of the queer community too, and have just gotten a slap in the face. I, as a Femme, am apparently not queer enough to belong, unless I rub my Femme gender in everyone’s face (rather than just on here and the Femme’s guide).

And to that, I say fuck you. How dare you police my identity? How dare you tell me I’m not good enough? How dare you create a hierarchy of oppression within our minority community? You are doing us all a disservice. 

-Essin’ Em

I leave tonight, heading to Denver, Colorado for a good week and a half. trainings

It’s a busy week; I have a bridesmaid lunch, an orthopedic surgeon’s appointment, a wedding rehearsal dinner, my best friend’s wedding, fondue with Q and my mother, getting a new tattoo on my calf (and Q is getting a new one on her forearm), having dinner and lunches with lots of friends, speaking at the LGBT Center’s Womyn’s circle, holding two employee for Fascinations, teaching a class at SKALES,  visiting all 5 Denver area stores, holding a free workshop on full spectrum sexuality at the Arvada store on Thursday night, meeting with an event director at a hotel to talk about possible wedding plans, and then, a whole weekend at Thunder in the Mountains before heading back to the heat of Arizona.

Looking forward to being home for so long, because Denver still remains home to me in my heart, and Q’s as well. We’ve both been feeling pretty home sick lately. I’ll miss our kitties of course; that’s always the hardest part.

I’ll have internet on and off, but if I’m slow in replying to comments, emails, tweets, etc, please excuse my delay. And if you’re local in Denver, I’d love to see you at one of my classes/workshops/seminars, really!

-Essin’ Em

More in the hot Eye Candy Series, which features queer porn stars in a variety of styles of porn (pictures/video, galleries and stills, vanilla and kink, etc).

This week, we’ve got a nice variety of hot and sexy shots from Furry Girl’s newest porn site, Cocksexual. This site features pictures of hot women and trans people strapped on and giving it in the cunt and ass to people of all sexes and genders. From shiny and sparkly to more flesh colored and very realistic cocks, every one is rocking the cock, and those on the receiving end are enjoying giving blow jobs and getting some good old fashioned (and new fashioned) fucking.

Click here to see all of the hot pictures and videos of the Cocksexual models getting it on!

Looking at my history, pre F and pre Q, I’ve realized that for the most part, I don’t have one night stands very often; I have two-night stands. And you know what? I find that I like the two night stands much better than one nighters.

Why?

When you have a one night stand, you only get that night to figure out what your new (and very short term) partner would like, what they enjoy, how the two of you are sexually compatible. When you have a two night stand (two nights of sex fairly close together, although they don’t have to be back to back), you get to have a bit of a learning curve. The first night, you treat like a one night stand; you’ve just met, or perhaps you’ve known each other forever, but it’s your first time having sex. You get to learn a little bit about what this partner likes, what you like them to do to you, what each of your communication styles are, etc. Then, you return for a second night. This time, you know the basics. You know some of these things they like, and don’t like. You know what you can improve on from the last night you spent together. You get to communicate what YOU’D like more of, less off, harder, softer, in a different way.

Then it’s over, like a one night stand. Maybe you’re on vacation, or maybe it’s a two-night doozy with a long time friend that just wouldn’t work as a relationship, or maybe you’re not interested in a long term relationship. Whatever it is, you’ve gotten the thrill and excitement from the concept of having a one night stand, but it’s also likely that you have much better sexual interaction than if you’d just done it for one night.

I had a two night stand with the hot one I met at Dinah Shore…the one who helped me discover both my queerness and femme-ness. 48 hours of what was up until that point the best sex of my life.  We explored by body, I learned how to orgasm with a partner, I learned how much I liked queer sex (and that it was more than just oral and a finger rubbing a clit). By the second night, this person knew my body so well, and I was coming dozens and dozens of times, like I’d never come before. Their learning curve? Ridiculously short.

When I hooked up with C in Philly, the first night was a lot of communication, a lot of talking, and exploring each others’ bodies. While there was sex, it was almost secondary to the connections we were creating. Then, the second night, I fucked her for hours, my last night in Philly, plus lots of hot make out time. Second night, yet again, better than the first.

With K, we played twice before I left Philly; once at the Submit party in New York, and then one day where he had me wear nipple clamps to the art museum, and tried out canes and paddles on me in New Hope. It was fun and light hearted, and far less scary than the first time we played.

When M was in Denver the summer I moved back, we hooked up twice…once, it was everything but sexual activity. Making out and grinding and desire. The next night, hot sex and lots of orgasms, all night long. Two night stand? Definitely a winner.

Then there was L. While we went on a few dates, we only made out/had grope-age twice, and the second time, far more comfortable and easy and enjoyable than the first time.

So I am a fan, a proponent, a supporter of the two night stand, the double hook up, the back to back boogie. I’ve found that it worked incredibly well for me, and like my rules of my manifesto, the two night stand has definitely led to better sex.

-Essin’ Em