Sexuality Happens

This is day 16 in my “30 Days of Letters” endeavor. It is supposed to be written to someone from my childhood. Interestingly enough, I had a dream the other night about my elementary/middle school art teacher. My school was lucky enough to have an amazing art department with real chalk pastels, spinning wheels for ceramics, frame stretching for oil paintings, etc. I write this to her.

Michelle-

I’m not sure you know how much of an impact you had on my life. In fact, I’m sure you have no idea.

From the time I was 5 to 13, art didn’t mean cheap water colors gotten from the dollar store, it meant figure drawings in charcol, pieces created out of clay, paintings that still hang on the walls in my mothers house. It didn’t matter if I was any good at it; you were always so supportive, none the less. You had ideas to teach, techniques to show…and even though sometimes we were loud and obnoxious and ridiculous like children are wont to be, you had a smile on your face.

I connected with you more than with any of the other teachers I had. I still have the beautiful picture of a horse you created for me for my Bat Mitzvah. That’s right; I’ve carted it around with me for over 12 years, not only because it is beautiful, but because I like having that reminder of you in my life.

Art was my outlet, especially clay. Whenever I felt sad or lonely or frustrated or depressed, there was something amazing about smashing clay against the table, pounding it over and over again, only to then create something I saw as beautiful out of nothing. Talk about an amazing life lesson.

I’ve been inspired to start up with the creativity again. I honestly haven’t done anything artsy since I left that school, save designing some costumes for plays and doing theate make up. No painting, no drawing, no clay. I miss it. I still remember the first water color I did for you, when I learned that real water colors come in tubes, and that you can use salt as a technique, and how we put random items in a normal scene — I did fast food french fries in a park. I loved that picture, and kept it till our house burned down. Because of it, and my memories, and your inspiration, I want to start up art again.

Thank you for creating such a wonderful safe haven for a kid, and then for a teenager. You have no idea how much you’ve given me, and I hope you know I appreciate it.

-Essin’ Em

We never really celebrated Thanksgiving as a big deal when I was young. We had three relatives living in NM, one in NY, two in FL and five in Israel. When that’s what your entire family looks like, clearly, there is not so much with the get togethers around holidays.  I mean, we went to visit New Mexico every summer, my aunt (NY) and grandfather (FL) came to visit occasionally, and we all went to Florida about every other year to meet up with my grandfather, step-grandmother and aunt. For my father’s death, my uncle flew out from Israel for the funeral, and four of the five Israelis visited for my bat mitzvah and my sister’s bat mitzvah.  And that’s my family.

So for thanksgiving, I think my mother made a turkey one or two years (stuffing baked separtely, given that my sister and I are vegetarians), but for the most part, we partook in the amazingness of hotel buffets.

Oh my god. Hotel buffets do an AMAZING job for Thanksgiving. Huge salad bar, blintzes, make your own pasta options, and the dessert? TO DIE FOR. Even us vegetarians could get stuffed. So to me, Thanksgiving = buffets.

In 2006, it was the first year I couldn’t make it home for Thanksgiving due to living in Philly, so I shared it with J.D. Bauchey of Hot Movies for Her. It was interesting…very family centric, and very Jewish, so it felt comforting to me. The next year, I went home with Buttscotch Cripple of the Philly Roller Girls. Again, very family centric, very Jewish. Do we see a theme?

Fall 2008, I was back in Colorado, mostly single (relationship with F was tanking) and unemployed, drowning in medical debt. All I wanted for thanksgiving was to be less broke. Instead, we took a family weekend to a local resort, once against celebrating with a buffet. There is a picture of the three of us, my mother, my sister, and me. All in black on Thanksgiving. Not planned, but we look like the Addams Family…well, I might look more like Elvira.  THIS is what I think of when I think of Family on Thanksgiving…that, and how everytime we dine together as a family, they ask me if I’d like a separate check…as though it is so obvious I don’t belong.

Last year, we had just moved to AZ, and Q and I started the tradition of remembering ThanksTaken — how we invaded a land not our own, and proceeded to kill off the indigenous people’s while we (we being white people — obviously not we we being the Jews from Eastern Europe) “celebrated” having found a new home.  Because honestly, that’s what Thanksgiving is.

This year, it’ll be the two of us, our three cats, and one of Q’s friends, once again remember the massacres that took place to celebrate such a holiday. I’ll make green bean casserole (trying this for the first time ever) and mushroom stew, Q is making garlic mashed potatoes and shitake stuffing, and will buy a pre-cooked mini-bird from the grocery, so we don’t have to cook it in our place.

Now, if it had been important to me and my family growing up, or if perhaps I wasn’t a vegetarian….then maybe this would be different. But it wasn’t, and I am, and so, I get ready to remember what we have taken from others in our quest to celebrate the new life we were “given.”

Wishing you warmth, love and deep thoughts on this holiday,

-Essin’ Em

Today, November 20th, is National (and International) Transgender Day of Remembrance. In the last few years (and this video is from last year, so there are more names and faces to be sadly added), over 100 people have been murdered for their gender identity/presentation. This doesn’t even take into account the hundreds and possibly THOUSANDS of people who are assaulted based on their gender, and tens of thousands more who are harassed each and every day.

Please watch this video. Again, it’s a year old, so many people are missing, but if you cannot take nine minutes out of your life to remember those who we have lost due to violence against the transgender community, what does that say? After you watch it, please think for a moment, or two, or ten, what YOU can do to create change in your community, in our community. How can we make it stop? This is completely unacceptable and heartbreaking. No one should have to be scare to leave their home due to their gender, and they should certainly not be scared of being killed. This is flat out wrong, and regardless of your politics, or religion, or moral views, is is NEVER ok to hurt and/or murder someone because of who they are. Ever.

If we don’t stand up and create this change, no one will. Stand up for people who are being harmed and whose voices are being heard. Create change, NOW. And always, always remember those we have lost.

-Essin’ Em

Warning: Wedding post. Will occur approximately monthly!

We’re being very conscious in how we plan this celebration of love. First of all, we’re calling it a wedding, and a celebration of love, but certainly not a marriage. To us, this is a bringing together of friends and family, a celebration of a relationship and love that we have together. It is not a legal transaction, it is NOT a marriage.

Do you know how hard it is to be social justice oriented queers trying to plan a wedding when the entire wedding and marriage industry is based a) on hetero couples and b) on spending outrageous amounts of money to look like some sort of society’s goal of “perfect” for all of one day? It’s just ridiculous.

We’ve finally found a venue — it’s an affordable hotel with a TAG rating (LGBTQ friendly) that basically includes almost everything. My dress is going to be a corset top and a skirt that is being given to me by a lingerie company….and I’ll have to take to a seamstress to make it fit the I want it to. We’re still trying to figure out if Q will be in tails, or nice pants and a vest….but I think that an ascot tie and possibly a top hat are definitely on the list, at least for pictures. My best friend A is making the Chuppah cover, and I’m going to figure out how to Home Depot-ize the rest of it. My moose is making our cake toppers to look just like our three kitties. 

I love that people are helping out by creating, making, donating, etc. This is truly OUR community’s celebration of our love, rather than what some stupid magazine or show tells me what our celebration of love it. Megan helped me find more black metal wrought iron candle holders at thrift stores last week, and Catherine says she may have some more as well.

We’ve decided on mini pumpkins with people’s names on them, where they can put their pumpkin wherever they’re planning on sitting (with color coded ribbons for vegetarian, vegan, gluten free, etc). We both love halloween, and while we want the wedding to be more of a Victorian elegant, we also want to include fall as part of it.

It’s still a good 10+ months away, but I’m enjoying the planning of it, and the flauting of the “proper” way to be wed. I love that we are still staying true to ourselves, and not selling out into the social constructions of a wedding.

I’ll post maybe once a month, so people don’t get sick of it…this isn’t really a wedding blog, nor is it an erotica blog, or a sex blog, or any of that. It’s a me blog, and I like it that way.

-Essin’ Em

I remember, not many years ago, when I said I’d never ever move for a partner.  I wouldn’t move cities/states to be with them, I wouldn’t move with them if their job required it, and heck, I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to move IN with someone. I was (and still am) fiercely independent, and I wasn’t really sure if I was ready to merge any part of my life with anyone else.

I had a dream the other night about my ex before Q…the ex named F. No idea why I was dreaming about her, but it wasn’t a good one. She was rude, and mean and aggressive, and she had a list of things I supposedly owed her for — for part of Athena’s medical care before she died, for rent (even though we never lived together), for a car etc. Now, she didn’t give me or lend me a cent while we were together. I lent her money, I bought things for her, I let her essentially live with me after her house was broken into, and I drove her around for weeks when her car was impounded. I put a lot of emotion on the line for her, but also a lot of fiscal and “helping your life work” energy out there…yet here I was, dreaming that we had in fact merged our lives, and post break-up, she was trying to drain all of it out of me.

See, even now, almost 2 years in with Q, I still have anxiety (albeit about my ex) about living together, about changing my life to be with someone else. But despite that, I’ve changed a lot as well.

We’re moving back to Colorado in the spring, that any powers that may be. However, Q found the perfect most amazing job for her…in New York. She doesn’t think she’s quite qualified enough, and given the industry, she’s probably not even going to get a phone interview. But you know what, I told her to go for it. Apply. Just do it.

Living with Q…well, more specifically, being in a relationship with her, has made me a more relaxed, less stressed and OCD person. I’m willing to embrace change more, I’m more ok with going with the flow, and not only did I move in with her, but I moved my life to hell Arizona for her work. And you know what? Not only have I survived all of this, and am still a fiercely indepenedent person, but I have grown, and become a better person over all. Despite my hate of living with others, I love living with Q. Despite my distain for moving for a partner’s job, I found an AMAZING job here in Arizona, that I will keep when we move back to Colorado. And, I have found a partner who respects me, my quirks and kinks, my weirdness, my disability, my odd habits, and is 100% willing to let me be me…regardless of what that looks like.

Change is scary.

Change is constant.

Change is good.

I love myself and my growth, and all that my relationship with Q has had to do with all of that. Here’s to change!

-Essin’ Em

This is day 14 in my “30 Days of Letters” endeavor. This one is supposed to be to someone from whom I’ve drifted away. After some thought and also seeing her while I was in Denver…I think this goes to my HS friend AJ (short for Angello-Jello)

Dear AJ–

You were one of the only people who was a true friend in HS. Not a best friend, no…we weren’t quite similar enough for that. But I want you to know that I STILL have some of the letters and poems you wrote me while I was at Chatfield. I have them tucked away in a box in my childhood bedroom, because those were some of the nicest things that people have ever sent me/done for me. You made my stressful and sometimes incredibly depressed life worth living. Please never forget that.

I saw you last weekend, at a mutal former friend’s wedding…say that three times fast. Now, the time I had seen you before that, you were doing really good. Still a little self depreciating, but good. Not last weekend. Every sentence out of your mouth was about your weight, about how you didn’t deserve to eat, about how no one would ever want to touch you, etc. Not ok. You are one of the most self sufficient, intelligent, witty, sarcastic, and inwardly awesome people I know. Yes, you’re pretty too…but I love who you are, all of you. Period. I just wanted to take you in my arms, toss your coping mechanism (a beer) aside, and try to drum into you what an amazing person you are. Because you are. You are now, you were in HS, you just always have been. Humorus, talented, and a good friend.

I wish we had stayed in better touch. You’re busy, I’m busy, it happens, I know. However, I make this committment to you that when I move back to Denver, I will make a huge effort to make you a part of my life again. You’re too amazing (and I love your snark too much) for you not to be in. So whether you like it or not, prepared to be loved. By me, by our mutal friends, by my cats. I hope you’re ready for it, and I’m sorry we let us drift apart.

I love you. Period.

Essin’ Em

I’m home, I’m alive, I had fun in Colorado and absotively posolutely cannot wait to move back to the Denver area next spring with Q. If you hear for any social justice oriented, non-profit and/or higher ed jobs in the area that would fit someone with a Master’s of Social Work and experience in all of the above, please let me know.

In other news, I can totally feel myself getting sick. So with that, I’m going to guzzle some off brand Emergen-C, drink a boat load or two of tea, and crawl into bed with a box of tissues. Wish my moose was here to make me some yummy soup…luckily, I at least have Q who made me truffle mac and cheese with capers.

More posts (particularly more interesting ones) to come!

-Essin’ Em

I entered a writing contest back in August. The prompt was to write approximately 1000 word about my coming out story. Here it is:

My coming out story isn’t just one day, or a week or even year. In fact, my coming out story isn’t finished. It is happening every day of every week of every year.

In college, I discovered the concept of orientation being fluid, and realized that I liked some of the women on campus. I joined QSA and EQUAL, and began to identify as bisexual. I told my mother and sister, and they reacted as expected; they didn’t really care.

Then in graduate school, I decided that I didn’t really like men anymore; I became a proud, flag-flying lesbian. I’m actually not kidding about the flag. I was a lesbian, and I liked women, and was attracted to women, and I came out to my friends and family and work and then…suddenly, I hit a speed bump.

Why? Well, I was suddenly dating someone that didn’t identify as a woman. I was dating a gender queer identified person. She didn’t care what pronouns people used to refer to him. When we were out and about, sometimes people saw us and identified us as a lesbian or dyke couple…other times, I could swear that people thought I was a twenty-something woman robbing the cradle with a 15-year old guy.

I loved this person. And this person didn’t identify as a woman. So I did what most young people in the middle of an identity crisis would do; I went online. And as I searched blogs and forums, I came across the term “Pansexual.” Ok, I thought. I can be pansexual, and be attracted to many people across the sexual spectrum. I was now a card carrying (I’m joking about the card) pansexual woman. Great. I started coming out to people as such on a regular basis.

In the midst of all this, I discovered something else about myself. Despite my angry feminist moments in college where I distained all things feminine as a creation of our misogynist culture and the patriarchy, I realized that while I didn’t embrace all or even most feminine things, my gender identity was developing, and it happened to have a Femme bent to it. One person I was seeing told me one day that I was “such a Femme.” I froze. I had always thought that being feminine or even a Femme was a bad thing, capitulating to social norms. But here I was, having spent almost an hour getting ready, getting a tingle in my stomach as my date opened the door for me, and a smile on my face as they brought me a drink. I had embraced the power of femininity, and I realized that even though I rarely wore heels and was allergic to pink, I am a Femme. Femme is my gender.

So here I was, a Pansexual Femme, and trying to come out to people. Trying to explain how Femme differed from female or woman was hard enough, but when I got into the term pansexual, people shut down. It was too academic, too different, too much. As I continued to prowl around online, I found that pansexual was a privileged term; it was mostly people in academia using it (and often just open minded bisexual people). I didn’t identify as bisexual, and I didn’t want a term that wasn’t accessible to everyone.

That is when I discovered the term QUEER. I was at a house party I’d been invited to by a fellow fierce Femme from roller derby, and I started talking to people about identity. At this party were people of all different gender presentations, from high femme to stud, gender queer and andro to trans folks of various presentations. And let me tell you, almost everyone at this party was smoking hot. I was trying to figure out how one would identify if you were a fierce Femme (IE, me) who was attracted to pretty much everyone in the room, and then, magically, I heard the term QUEER. It fit. It was perfect. It was me. It was an identity that fit me regardless of what I was wearing, who I was attracted to, what my own gender identity was, and everything else.

Now, as Queer Femme, I had to re-come out to everyone I’d already come out to. My family was open to it, but needed some education on the term queer. My co-workers were already reading Judith Butler and Kate Bornstein, so they got it. Some of my friends asked me what took me so long to figure that out, while others still thought of the term queer as a hateful term, and that involved much discussion.

When I moved to Arizona, the coming out process started all over again. Explaining my gender as Femme is always a hoot; people assume that unless you’re trans or gender queer, your gender is just a given. Mine is not. Femme is an attitude, a belief system, a presentation, and it is my deliberate gender. And here in Arizona, very few people understand my queer identity, and so it’s been an opportunity for education. My coming out story never ends, because I have to come out to everyone I meet, and everyone I’ve met, and because my identities are so fluid, sometimes I have to come out to myself.

The other day, my partner’s softball coach referred to me as her “roommate.” I was hurt and angry and frustrated. I’d come out to him already; as queer, as her partner, as her fiancé, and yet here he was, invalidating our relationship. So we both came out to him again. And will do so again if needed.

THIS is why coming out is so important. It creates visibility, and dialogue, and understanding, and these three things create change in our community. It is only with change that we can be seen as full members of our society, instead of second class citizens. So please, keep on coming out.

Happy Coming Out Day!

-Essin’ Em

The middle of this month celebrates my FOURTH year of blogging about sex, sexuality, erotica, gender, identity, nudity, rights, politics, sex toys, silly things, my relationships, sex tips, others’ relationships, and more. Yes, the Sex Blogger Calendar says three- that’s a mistake. It’s been four full years folks.

And what better way to celebrate than with some EPIC giveaways…and I’m talking EPIC. I’ve gotten almost a twenty companies that I’ve worked with over the past four years (or am working with now/in the near future) to donate items for this contest, and from porn to sex toys to accessories, I promise that these prizes are AWESOME!

What can you win?

We start with a gift from HotMoviesForHer.com, a female-run porn site that was the start of my career in the more “adult” industry. What are they offering? TWO 100 minutes packages of porn. That’s a LOT of minutes of porn!

Fascinations, who employes me as their residential sex educator, has been kind enough to offer up a $100 gift card, which is enough to get either a Pure Wand…or a Lelo Siri…or a whole bunch of other awesome sex toys!

Pink and White, whom I love dearly, is offering a Two Month, Level Two memberships to CrashPadSeries.com (I’m on it!) and a Two Months, Level One membership to their new gay boy site, HeavenlySpire.com.

NoFauxxx, the awesome queer porn company run by Courtney Trouble, is putting up a FULL YEAR’s membership to NoFauxxx.com. I’m also on here!

Babeland, one of the first sex positive toys stores and educational places is offering a Mini Morgasm kit — complete with their new book Moregasm, as well as a Fukoku vibrator, a massage candle, Babelicious lube and a Sonic cock ring!

Crystal Delights, creators of those beautiful new crystal plugs (and so to be released wands) is giving me a beautiful Champange crystal butt plug for this!

Good Vibrations, a feminist and sex positive store with shops in CA and MA, and a sex toy website, is donating not one, not two, but THREE rabbit pearl vibrators (made of vinyl)!

NippleCharms.com is offering ONE set off non-piercing needed Nipple Rings, as well as TWO stick on Bindi Charms.

Trannywood Pictures, hot guy on guy porn (with both cis and trans men) is giving away a copy of their BRAND NEW film, Trannywood Gone Wild!

MyPleasure.com is offering up a beautiful vibrator from the Vida line; the Lussuria. It’s supposed to be pretty awesome!

SexToy.com and the lovely Domina Doll are putting together a special giveaway pack for this contest. I have no idea what is inside, but I know it’ll be awesome!

Liberator, the make of amazing sex furniture is thowing a Jaz into the ring. Heck, *I* don’t even have one of these!

More porn from Early to Bed – a rocking feminist sex toy store in Chicago! They’re giving away Special Delivery, a locally made dyke porno…I want to see it!

Also donating a set of rocking Nipple Clamps is the fabulous feminist store Our Enigma in Salem, Oregon!

We’ve got a lovely donation from the Kama Sutra Closet, who is kind enough to provide a Shiri Zinn RED Ceramic dildo to give away! 

Can’t leave out one of my favorite toy makers, the wonderful Vixen Creations. They’ve offered up TWO TOYS! One Caramel Tex and one Purple Johnny. Hurray!

Aloha from Maui Kink, who as graciously given me 3 Toy Bag Guides (Playing with Taboo by Mollena Williams, Clips and Clamps by Jack Rinella and Canes and Caning by Janet Hardy) AND 2 x 15ft lengths of Natural Hemp Rope with Shears

This just in: Lelo is putting in a pair of their silky and smooth Etherea Cuffs, from their brand new accessories line!

Another last minute addition! Stockroom, that fabulous kink site, has thrown a pair of cuffs, and a beautiful flogger into the ring!

Another set of awesome items is dontated from Je Joue — a Sasi and a G-Ki! Each of these vibrators is amazing!

Instead of choosing just one winner for all of this, or trying to make packages, etc, I’m going to just use the random number generator to choose a winner for each item. If someone enters a lot in various ways, they may win multiple items. This way, I can pass on the sex-tastic love to as many people as possible! So there could be 20 winners, or even more!

How do you enter? The contest goes through October 31st (11:59pm PDT). There are lots and lots of ways to enter! For each entry, please post a comment below with a link to it (or your twitter name, FB name, FetLife name, etc), as I’ll be using a random generator to choose the winners. If you already follow/friend/fan me, just post below a comment with the name you use. Free shipping is included for  US winners only (obviously a moot point for the porn memberships/minutes) — international shipping must be paid by the winner.

1. MANDATORY: Please comment here with the top three items above that you’d like to win most! (1 Entry)

2. Become an Essin’ Em fan on Facebook at www.Facebook.com/EssinEm. (1 Entry)

3. Comment on my Essin’ Em fan page. (1 entry per day)

4. Follow me on Twitter. (1 entry)

5. Tweet about this contest on twitter — must include my @ name and a link here. (1 entry per day)

6. Friend me on FetLife. (1 entry)

7. Update your status on FetLife with a link to this page. (1 entry per day)

8. Write a blog post about this contest (5 entries, only one per person).

9. Visit the above sponsors’ sites and tell me what your favorite thing that they sell (besides what they’re giving away) is. (1 entry per sponsor, total).

10. Donate to my paypal, buy me something off my amazon wishlist, send me a present, etc (15 entries, and my eternal gratitude).

Contest begins now, so get started, and don’t forget, there are so many ways to enter, so get going!

-Essin’ Em

Sometimes, expectations can be a very very good thing. However, for the most part, they tend to be evil.

Why? Because usually, we keep our expectations to ourselves. We don’t share them. And by doing so, we often set ourselves up for disappointment, because we expect (there is that evil word again) our friends/family/lovers/partners to read our minds, and meet our expectations, even though they often don’t know what they are.

I wrote a few weeks back about how I was let down during my last trip to the ER. It was the first time Q had ever come with me to the ER, and only the second time she’d ever come with me on any medical visit, the first being only a week prior. Now, I’ve spent a lot of time in medical settings, and have been in the ER far too many times. Ergo, when there was no nurse button, and I was left alone in a room with no pillows/sheets/etc for a swollen leg/to prop up my head, and with no nurse call button, or way to ask for help, I sent Q on a mission to a) find a nurse, b) check on where I was in the triage schedule and c) get me a pillow. The first three trips, she came back having accomplished none of this. The nurses were talking to each other, or she didn’t see anyone in the hall. I was incredibly frustrated, because I needed an advocate at that point in time (not being able to walk anywhere myself), and I had very specific expectations of what an advocate to me looked like. However, I pretty much gave her my expectations at the exact same time as I even asked her to be an advocate, and in a stressful setting none the less. Is it not wonder that her actions didn’t meet my hastily requested invitations?

So I’ve been trying to be clearer about my wants and needs, and even expectations. And moreover, I’ve been trying to have less expectations. When I came back from Florida, Q had gone to Sedona with her sister, and brought me back this BEAUTIFUL black and white flower vase. Totally unexpected, as I don’t ever expect physical presents from Q (I’m a pack rat, she’s a minimalist). I dropped my expectations, and was pleasantly surprised. What a reward!

But then, I made expectations again. I purposely chose to fly back from SF to Phoenix this afternoon, so I could spend a nice evening with her before flying back out to NYC tomorrow. Between my travel and her often 60+ hour work weeks, we haven’t really gotten to see much of each other in a while, and so this was important to me. I forwarded her my flight info, my travel dates, reminded her that this was when I’d be home, etc.

By doing all of this, I had expectations that I’d be able to spend time with her this one evening that I was back. However, I didn’t communicate that clearly. I thought she’d pick up on my hints, but I never specifically said “hey, so we’re both getting to hang out together on the night of the 29th, right?” Well, not until the day before I left.

I had hoped she would take the afternoon off, so I could get a ride from the airport home, and get to spend time with her. Apparently, she had two presentations that afternoon, so that was nixed. Fine, that had been a hope, but not an expectation. Then Saturday night, as I chatted with her on the phone, I found out she also had stuff at 5pm-7:30pm, and 8pm-11pm. As my flight was leaving at 7am the next morning, I wasn’t going to be able to stay up past 10ish, meaning that all my deliberate planning and extra wear and tear on my body was for naught; I’m not really going to get to see her before I leave again.

I was hurt when I found this out. Not angry, just hurt and frustrated. But honestly, that’s partially my fault. I needed to communicate better my reasoning for coming home, as well as the expectations I had of Q instead of just making assumptions.

And I guess it will just make next Monday night all the more sweet.

-Essin’ Em