Ice Girl's public thoughts.

How to say I hate you without those exact words

So tonight, my girlfriend had a huge event she was planning with board games, contests, and video games, a massive nerdgasm. I was helping her set it up and was looking forward to being a part of it; if anything, she was worried I would get too involved and I couldn’t enjoy the experience when she would rather see me happy than work feeling obligated to her.

But due to my covid infection given to me by my jealous ex at the fucking perfect time, I can’t go. I was so upset that I had been crying and depressed all day. He heard me crying and entered my room to check on me. I thought it was maybe to console me, maybe show remorse for hurting me. I figured he could perhaps be upset since his unwillingness to be covid reasonable is why I couldn’t even go in the first place.

Yet, in our conversation, all he did was twist the knife. Ron gleefully joked about how much fun everyone was having, and so what if I couldn’t go? No one would notice. He then said it was childish of me to cry since I would see T soon enough, and if she cared about me at the end of the day, who cared if I had been in quarantine for a week or two? I emphatically communicated that’s not the point. This occasion was exceptional, and I was looking forward to it, and it’s your fault I can’t participate. You ruined my plans and snicker. You destroyed my looking forward to tonight. He smugly retorted, “I refuse to apologize for getting sick. Anyone can get sick.” I challenged that statement, “Your risky behavior got you sick when I asked you to be more considerate.” Ron said, “Oh my god, this again. Wake up, Ice, what’s in the past is past, and this is where you now, stuck with me, sick with covid. I hope you’re having a fantastic night alone since I got nothing left to say to you if you won’t hear me out -- and just wanna be a bitch.”
I tried to stop him from walking away, saying, “You can’t say sorry or try to understand why I’m upset.”

Ron’s final words were, “You know I try to understand you, but I’m not immature enough to say I get it. Then he left my room.”

Wow, I was already upset, and then he just decided to kick me and beat me emotionally on top -- doing it with a joker’s grin. The best part is when I point out he’s just being mean to hurt me, and for no other reasons, he’s like, what in the heck are you talking about me being mean to be mean? I am just trying to have a conversation here. You’re getting all worked up over words; I am innocent your just too mentally ill to have a normal conversation.

The moment he went from problematic to villain was the moment he took half a day to come home from work to confront me and my girlfriend in the house, which is hilarious because, MIND YOU, WE (me and Ron) ARE NOT TOGETHER, AND ITS NON OFHIS BUSINESS WITH WHOM I SEE. Ron never tells me anything about how he conducts his life.

So, he decides to question my judgment when he is trying to point out that it’s ludicrous that I care about someone such as T, who I have known for such a short time. I was like, what do you mean? He said “I don’t want to bring it up.” I implored him, “it’s ok, please do.”

Where does the villain go? To my sexual assault and how he warned me that trying to see that friend was risky, he goes into some apparent details of the event, knowing I have PTSD, to try and trigger flashbacks. To which T, who was there, is like you know what you’re doing here. You’re trying to hurt her. You’re blaming the victim.

Ron got defensive at T and stated, “you can’t tell me anything you are not a part of this and don’t know how fucked up she is.” T was not phased, “I care about Ice, and you don’t because look at what you’re doing to her. I can accept her because I’m fucked up too.”

The funny thing is it wasn’t him bringing up my rape as a taunt or now him hearing me cry and making it worse so he can savor my pain that’s hurting me.

The harm is how could my judgment be so wrong about this trash being human?

How could I have loved or cared about such a malicious, vindictive bastard?

He told me how he used to hit and yell at his ex-wife and worked on that a lot and realized how wrong and fucked up that was. Yet in my case, I know he only didn’t do those things not because he didn’t want to but he couldn’t. Once, Ron tried to take a chair and hit me with it in a heated argument -- but I took it from him like a toy. So there was conflict, but because I’m a world competition martial artist, the only thing that probably saved me from his wrath was how he physically was intimidated by me.

Ron has watched me do some insane feats like just a few weeks ago; I was demonstrating how hard I kick to a friend. I had Ron holding a 250-bound water bag, and I kicked it and him over 500 pounds back about 4 feet while he braced as hard as he could. I can easily break the equivalent of two 2x4s. Yet everyone has a weakness. I built up my body because, emotionally, I am vulnerable.

One friend who at one point was intimidated by me at first was like woah, Ice; you’re not intimidating at all. Puzzled, “excuse me?” She exclaimed, yeah, you’re pretty much a cupcake that puts on a suit of armor, like how batman is just a scared edgy kid trying to stop the hurt of being powerless. Ice, you’re a victim of childhood abuse and neglect, wanting so desperately to be loved and appreciated that once someone gets in past your armor, they can squish you with a look.

Writing about the pain and acknowledging this for posterity will help me build the resilience I need not be duped by Ron or any other abuser’s bullshit. I want to see him be redeemed and believe I didn’t waste 20 years of my life on my enemy. Yet how long will I allow myself to suffer for the mistakes of the past?

If he wants back in my heart, he needs to earn it. Every time he attacks now is inoculation from future consideration. My resentment of him is the ultimate cure to purge him from my life, once and for all.

In the last entry, I claimed he didn’t see how I had changed over the years. I can see how he has changed now since I have someone I love and want to be with. Maybe it’s time I take my advice and realize he’s changed, and I don’t need an abusive ex in my life. I got enough issues.

I apologize to everyone who has cared and watched how this has affected me as of late. I had signs that Ron was a total shitbag my whole life trying to sabotage me, but I always wanted to see it as a mistake, accident, or misunderstanding.

The worse event was a couple of years ago, when I finished all my classes to apply to medical school, I hired an independent company to assess my candidacy. They pointed out that no shadowing experience or work in the field makes me a pretty average candidate since everyone who gets into medical school has good grades and can create a grand narrative. The only people who are sure things are the total package, and right now, I still need bits. I was like, well, due to covid, I can’t get any experience without working in the field because no one is taking anyone. They were like, exactly, and they gave me a list of 40 jobs that counted as clinical experience and said that the best move is to take one of those jobs or get what’s needed to do one of those jobs while doing some volunteering in the field or adjacent and that would plug my last hole and make me a superb candidate.

When I told Ron this, his response was WAKE UP, ICEGIRL; it’s over; your too old it’s gone on long enough. Your road always has another hurdle, another reason not to do it. Admit it you don’t have what it takes to commit to your dreams. You should humble yourself, look in the mirror and say you don’t want it badly enough.

I was like, what the fuck are you talking about? I have now seen the last issues with my candidacy and will address them.

Ron stated yeah, sure, whatever; you graduated from UNC in 2015. It’s 2020, and you’re not in medical school. When are you going to wake up? Are you are not going to go? It isn’t your future but a dream; sometimes dreams don’t come true; that’s life.

But in the last two and half years, I have been in search and rescue as a Wilderness trained Emergency Medical Technician; I got a job as a professional Nationally registered Emergency Medical Technician and became a certified Federal emergency management responder. I have saved countless lives, and what was once a weak spot for my candidacy is now the most robust section I have. Where many people apply with barely 160 -800 hours of shadowing, I have nearly three years of professional and volunteering medical experience and did it during covid, one of the most difficult stressful times there has ever been to be in the field.

I have saved many lives and been on rescue operations and preparedness drills. I will miss this part of my life once I become a higher-level provider. I might seek to keep my NREMT license just so that I can occasionally be out on an ambulance or in the woods saving someone instead of just doing treatment in a clinical setting. Who doesn’t wanna be on the front lines where the action is?

So one has to ask why Ron, who knew how much that meant to me, tried to get me to give up.

Well, he told me point blank how many people that become doctors or higher-level providers move on and forget the people who got them there. Ron would rather see me abandon my dreams and life goals to be with him. Ron wanted me to break promises to myself and to the intersex and trans community to become someone that can treat us with dignity and respect. I want to help write an improved standard of care that would hopefully be adopted because it’s from the lived experience of a lifetime of knowledge that can’t be instructed on. I am a board member of Oii America. I have written testimony for intersex and trans bills and legislation and given many talks about Intersex trans and nonbinary issues, which is part of how I always planned to contribute going forward with my life.

Did he think I would ever walk away from the reason I live and breathe?

Then when I got all achieved a while ago, I shoved it in his face in an argument about how I am beyond ready to apply now. He stated that it was all reverse psychology and that he didn’t mean to hurt me but to get me to stop bitching and focus. It was him supporting me that is why he shit on my dreams so much.

He tried to take all the credit for my hard work of getting all the ducks in a row and smashing them. YET I KNOW THAT’S BULLSHIT.

Did he ever ask to help prepare me for the test?

Did he ever really care how I was doing?

Shit, I realized I had to stop telling him the days of my finals because it would just so happen that often we would fight and have nasty moments of stress the night before or mourning of! He liked to blame it on my added stresses that I was seeing a pattern based on me being unstable, not him. Yet, when I stopped telling him when the dates were and just kept to myself more and focused on my studies, surprisingly, there was peace and no arguments right before critical examinations. Freeing myself from Ron is even more painful because I am breaking through the millions of lies he sold me. Ron never wanted anything out of me other than a complete subordinate; it is so sad. I was so blind. I believed he wasn’t the person people had pointed out to me.

I tried to keep the faith; he isn’t who he seems to be yet for what reason?

Do I want to believe his lies or my emotional responses to him that cause me to shutter whenever we interact?

The raw reality of this situation has brought me to my knees in tears. I ask life for the strength to rise stronger after this. I have a heading. There is no delusion of my and Ron’s relationship; it is how he always wanted it to be. I am merely breaking free of those restraints holding me back from where I need to travel.

An upsetting and exciting situation in my life

I am still working on 2-3 very long letters explaining What I have been going through. Even when they are done, a larger question comes how much of them do I even care to share with the general public since they are pretty personal.
Due to some people being concerned about me, I should say something. This is that summary.

Having no "real" biological family made me generally someone who wants to believe I can have a chosen family of people I trust. Still, sometimes I get it wrong in whom I trust. I am only human and can make mistakes.
I currently live with someone I have known for nearly 20 years, and, at one point in my life, he was the most important person since he met me when I was extremely depressed and suicidal. His support at a critical time helped get me back on my feet. However, even though I am grateful to him and it has been clear, we haven't been in a relationship, stated by his admission, for at least five years; I guess he had some idea that I might come around one day. Since that never happened because I am not interested in men has been an issue. My now having a girlfriend hit him hard since he can tell how much I love her and it is different than the love I have shown him.

Because of dating T, he has gone from troublesome at times but overall a neutral force in my life to a vindictive, abusive psycho that makes even having a conversation seem difficult. If he were any other person, I probably would have already told him 100% to go fuck himself. It's hard to walk away and not try to fix it since he historically meant so much to me.

However, he verbally, emotionally, and biologically attacked me almost daily once he learned I was dating someone in a serious manner. The level of outright disgust and cruel words he uses are beyond compare. The biological attack is that even though I had asked him to please be more considerate of covid, since I was now around a person concerned and didn't want to make her sick. Well, he got even laxer and intentionally coughing and sneezing without so much as covering his mouth to disrespect me intentionally. By the way, the house he lives in, by his admission, I am 80% responsible, and I had given him pretty much my entire life savings a down payment for which he has paid me back not a cent over ten grand. Ron ended up contracting covid either by intent or stupidity and spreading it throughout the house; he even got me infected.

Great job ass.

This action has caused me not to be able to see my girlfriend, I had to miss the final week of school for some of my half-semester classes, making it difficult in some of my classes, and my grades might be in jeopardy; I was also supposed to start working on the 20th for an externship at Mercy hospital and now got pushed back till the 27th. When I asked him to apologize for his actions that had caused this disruption, he claimed it was all my fault; I made him angry, vindictive, and jealous, even me asking him to be more careful in regards to covid because T is my fault because of course it was gonna make him not do it I apparently forced him to be less reasonable. After all, I shouldn't have mentioned her, which made him wanna do it less. No matter what I do or say it would seem I am unable to reach him now.

It hurts so much that the first person I have been intimate with in over eight years has perhaps caused the end of Ron in my life by his design. Instead of being happy for me and supportive, he has gotten volatile, mean, and nasty. Even two nights ago, I had to remove my vital documents and two of my most essential things. I can no longer trust that he will not be worse in our state of falling out. I refuse to have my birth certificate and the rest held hostage; this is the level of our relationship.

Now you might be like, well, at least you did it for following your heart, that might be so, but I think part of the reason why this is so hard for Ron to understand is I don't usually do that. My name is icegirl on these platforms for a reason I do not make the emotional decision but the cold logical one. I haven't ever been allowed to live in the moment I was always one bad day from the streets. I lived independently since I was 16 because I had to sue my parents for custody since they refused to give me treatments for my intersex condition. I was so ill at the time that people would often joke if I was dying of cancer. Last month, when seeing a doctor examine my delicate bones, they showed that I was stunted in development from the years of hormonal desperation my family put me through then. What does someone with no family and options at 16 learn I can’t make a foolish decision or else my life is over.

So the fact that Ron has been in my life since 19 makes him one of the first people who meant something to me when I had nobody else. He knew me as well as most people, could, yet he overgeneralized my predictability.

Ron underestimated two things one personal growth- everyone changes over time but he didn’t notice I am not the person when he first met me. He must have some frozen assumptions about who I am and what I am about. second I always was a hopeless romantic, but I had never met anyone before, which caused me to say that if I didn't give my everything I would never forgive myself. Thus, the people I dated or so-called relationships before never mattered that much, even those I cared about sincerely, Ron often meant more to me than them. So if a choice were between Ron, school, career, or whatever, the person I was dating would be removed.

Thus it must be shocking to him that, on only my second date with T, when he asked me in front of her to decide for me or T, I was like, T, you still good with me living with you? She's like yeah, why do you ask? Do you think this guy was going to change that? I looked back and said, " Well, that means I am moving in with T. HAHAHA, it's hilarious because I could see the stunned look on his face, my behavior towards him was foreign it must have caused an immediate seizure.

So let us investigate what's so different about how I feel in the case of T?
T is the 12th female I have been intimate with/ dated. I will now introduce a statistical concept known as the secretary problem. There is a logic that when you interview someone for a job, the first person isn't usually the best, but you must pick someone. So how many should you question to save time and get the best person? In short, how do you know you chose the best person?
There are lots of strategies to arrive at this. Some say look at the first 4-6; the next time you get someone at least as good as the best one, then hire that person. It is all about optimizing your chances since it's about the optimal strategy for making the best selection.

Here's what's crazy in my case, T is the best selection of a significant other I have come across. If she were to leave me, all other people would have to be measured by her. I have never encountered anyone I have ever been with thus far since I started dating at 16. I'd rather be with. It took me 20+ years to find her granted the last several years; I wasn't putting myself out there, but that's still over a decade. So when you meet someone such as an ideal match, the logic dictates that instead of trying to keep options open, seeing what happens, or playing it cool, you need to secure the situation, i.e., Id do almost anything to make it work like throw Ron to the curb if he gets in the way probably one of the four closest people in my life previously.

So even though it's a passionate decision, I am still filled with a logical underpinning; one might wonder if these are the rose-colored glasses of a new relationship. I will quantify why it is not with four examples, although I can go on for ages.

First, None of the people I dated before is more understanding and supportive of my gender dysphoria. I know that I physically am a "cis female-bodied person," but I am Intersex. My body only happened to be this way because of a genetic disorder that sometimes weighs on me. I am occasionally upset over this situation, but I deal with it. The biggest issue isn't my condition but how my family and early medical experiences made me feel about myself. In contrast, pretty much all my other partners either didn't get it, couldn't get it, wouldn't get it, or even outright judged me over it and made me feel like they were doing me a favor dating me.

T stands alone as someone who has been able to help me feel more comfortable in my body than any other human I have been with. She is so supportive that it's even hard to type this out. My mother always told me the worst decision she ever made was not aborting me because I'm an abomination. What was the cause of all this bitterness and rejection? Having a rare 1 in 540,000 intersex disorder which caused me to be a perfectly healthy female oh, the horror. So this has been and probably will always be the most significant thing I deal with emotionally. She has helped in ways I didn't think possible.

Second I had been sexually abused, which has always been challenging to feel safe and comfortable expressing my sexual needs and desires. It's not that I don't have them; Demisexuals aren't asexual, but I need someone I can feel emotionally vulnerable and safe with to begin exploring those feelings. She provided such a nurturing, safe environment that I trusted her as I had no other. I find it humorous at times. She is so careful that she will ask me permission for any slightly new act because she wouldn't want to upset or harm me in any way. The amount of care she has shown to ensure she didn't rush me, to meet me where I am, and support me in the process has been like nothing I experienced.
This is why she is the first person I not only gave permission to fuck me with a strap-on but enjoyed it.

Third, I am writing this originally for a kink journal. Some who know me personally shall read this. I am pretty into BDSM, and T is the first person close to my kink style. Veronica, a woman I was engaged to marry at one point, was the next closest Yet Veronica's idea of kink was a bit of role-play and maybe some light spanking. I have freaking fire dommed T, and just last week, she had me tied in rope and pulled me around like a rag doll, and I loved it. If veronica could see the shit that goes on in the club I'm at, the stuff I do now, she'd faint. It's fantastic to be dating someone kink-compatible with me.

Forth I Love board games and geek nerd culture in general. Early in the conversation, T asked me what I thought of board games. I was like, well, I owned over 75 now, roughly between college and moving around, wondering where they all are. They were unbelievably happy since they also have an enormous board game collection of over 100 games. I am really into board games I was the co-president of my colleges Board game club for 3 out of the four years as a student. I also produced a few youtube videos for The Dice Tower (one of the largest board game review websites) I also played competitively for chess magic the gathering and was a professional hearthstone player ranked the highest female in the world for a time. Board games, and geeky things are a massive turn on for me. One of the things that suck about living with Ron is that he wouldn’t let me establish a gaming group at my house because he was always so annoyed at the fun me and my gamer friends would have. Ron doesn’t like board games, he never showed an interest in them. I find it odd that he could hate board games at all since I have every type of game, and some are just fun party games designed to have a good time and brake the ice. Not everything needs to be competitive or should be.

Speaking of competition, the first time T was at my house, she introduced me to the game Onitama an abstract strategy game even though she just showed it to me, I got an initial board and tempo advantage, putting her in a desperate position. Then in a daring move, she put her king in quite the spot, and although I should have been able to capitalize off it, my newness to the game, plus unbelieve arousal at just being around someone I found so attractive, caused me to blunder it, and I lost the game after an epic 30 minute battle. She gave me props for giving her quite the challenge when she usually steamrolls people, especially when she plays against new players. It was the most fun I ever had losing a game.

If you want to know more, I can go on more gushing about the girl I am dating. She is my favorite person I have ever been with by many metrics. Even though it's only been four weeks, I don't need more dates to know she's irreplaceable to me. Thus I will do my best to improve her life in every way possible.

Anytime I see her, I get excited and happy. What's the point of life if you can't love and support the people you care most about? The fact that Ron got me infected with covid, which has made it impossible even safely to interact with her then, has filled me with such rage that I didn't even know I was capable of.

Meditation, self-actualization, and knowing that this is a brief moment have helped calm me down. What is upsetting me now will one day be just a memory. Ron is so clearly going to mask off in all of this. It has made my decisions and path forward clear.

Thank you for caring about me and reading,
Icegirl

Shamelessly Intersex!
We live in a time and place, where every passing hour being intersex is ever more looked at as a crime. My breathing of air is enough for the judgment of many, a jury of my peers currently votes and supports an agenda that aims forth to summon a governmental execution - to befall me and any like me. I have a condition known as XY sex reversal syndrome, which triggered complete androgen insensitivity, and persistent Mullerian ducts. In short, I’m a biological / sex / phenotypical female due to mutations there is nothing male about me.

What has this birth condition cost me? First, not a single cheerful moment from my childhood. My family was unable to wrap their head around an XY female thus they treated me with vile bigotry from birth. The playfulness you see within the sparkle of my eyes is the outburst of a repressed body finally getting a taste of joy. The beatings for not being like other children. My mother looked at me as a curse that befallen her, and her family blamed her drug habits as the cause. It was simply her manner to escape the horrors of her existence. In reality, my birth was a numbers game 1 in 540,000 live births end up like me so I was inevitable as the sun rises in the sky.

Yet to ask these anxious questions about humanity and my existence out loud I often would see pitchforks emerge. So-called friends fall away like dead leaves abandoning me with a betrayal only feeling remaining a frosty cold that bites into the soul. It is why celebrating self-acceptance and this new phase of my life is tremendously important.

Not that long ago, I had to post about some medically challenging news my hormones had to be augmented in such a way as my body reached a proper equilibrium. Currently having the sex and developmental basis of any other cis woman I want sexual contact with penetration, I regained regular cycles with even more intense hormonal shifts in mood, and that’s not even getting into the fact I was informed that I am going to need to continue this treatment the rest of my life or else my body would fail me as it had been. The changes I found so fatiguing and strenuous to adapt to are considered a natural state of womanhood.

Complaints to the medical establishment got met with mockery. The doctors see it as a triumph, getting my body to behave characteristically by its developmental nature my feelings and insecurities in my body be damned.

To be given the choice to watch my body break or develop an understanding of my body responding as a more biochemically active female was shocking. I had to reflect that maybe life just wasn’t meant for an abomination like me. If you wonder why I use those words it’s the same my parents and church used throughout my childhood. I always was told I was the child not even a mother could love and if she could have one wish fulfilled it would be never to carry me to term.

Yet just allowing myself to exist long enough I gave my mind time to adapt. Yet that alone wouldn’t have been enough. There is a saying you are nobody till somebody loves you. Finally having someone love and appreciate my body even with all its eccentricities helped me to experiment with it in ways I never thought possible strange virginal delights experienced joyfully. Who woulda thought someone with a body built to be penetrated vaginally can savor it more than breathing, sharing such a defining moment with a skilled competent lover made me feel safe enough to be vulnerable it changed my life. She offered me more than a passing passion but a resurrection of identity.

I now reflect with a bit more anger on the past. I was born in a female body yet if only society didn’t make me hate myself for so long I could have adapted earlier, rather than feel resigned as if a death sentence befell me. Adaptation and celebrating myself are healthier ways to be, I wish I had these feelings much sooner. It’s not like I ever had an option anyway. I am glad I finally got here on this journey, I am forever grateful to Tavi for helping me resolve the puzzle of accepting my body. It is complicated for me to fully know the future since the past has dissolved in many ways, I shall not toil on such thoughts.

I am full of resolve to continue on a path of growth and curiosity, if things about me can change that I never thought possible what’s next -- is anyone’s guess.

Addicted to love- By Tori

A compulsive longing devours the hours

As the time expires, it brings with it existential urgency

A hunting begins

The past of us together

Or a future when I can see you again

Is an unrivaled place where I feel remarkably alive

A place where emotion, devotion, and lust become agency

 

A void enormous grows

Gravity begins to weigh heavy upon me

Bliss is as dangerous, and addictive as any narcotic

The feeling of having you in my arms revealing

I was safe enough to sleep in front of you

 

Yet the terrors of my mind a poison - for which there is no remedy

Remove me from rapture

A quiet scream startled me awake wondering where I am

I quiver

Your warmth is a temporary antidote, petting my head relieves restless panic

Lost in the moment consoled I was torn from you by our position

 

An embargo on love is now the quandary

Here I am emotionally searching inward

On if that was reality, or truly lunacy

No tonic tonight

My only companion, the darkness of anxious thoughts blanketing the mind

Yet hope maintains sanity

Bliss exist on this earth, and as such a possible end to this loneliness

Shall our orbits once again align, and the addition is temporarily fed

CW: Self Abuse, Gender Identity Dysphoria

 

On one occasion I was filled with so much self-hate for being female I tried to burn my clitoris off. The hood protected it for the most part and the second my clit felt burned the pain was too great and I passed out in shock.

 

I don't remember how but when I woke up I was in a hospital. People might have seen me already faint from overstimulating behavior well that time when I fainted and didn’t get up for hours.

 

My girlfriend when I told her this while showing her the hole directly above my clitoris suggested why not get a piercing to plug it!

 

I thought of it but since it is not a piercing, but a self-inflicted wound in a moment of total gender dysphoria I am ashamed of it.

 

She’s said questioningly I don't know, looks like a perfect spot for a piercing if you ask me?

 

I was like you know what let’s try it the worst that happens is I take it out. She’s like it is healthy to make new associations with your pain and reclaim yourself.

 

So I bought a Random bag but they were too small, she was like no we need to do it together wait for me.

 

I agreed.

 

So anxiously I waited for last Saturday. I didn’t even know if we were gonna do anything with it.

 

But she showed me a bag with sizing gauges for the hole to see what it needs. The hole is a size 8 gauge which for comparison think slightly larger than a Q-tip.

 

The piercing has a decent amount of girth with a crescent shape and weighted balls at the ends. Often my clit naturally comes to rest right in between them and is constantly rubbed, stroked, and molested from both sides.

 

Having my clitoris so aroused and stimulated I have gone from seldomly having sexual arousal to near-constant arousal. It has gotten so bad at times I can feel my eyes tearing up from the sexual frustration. My body gets extremely flush especially my face since -- “About half of all women or even more may develop a peculiar looking 'sex rash' ('sex flush') with sexual arousal or orgasm. This measles-like appearance with pink spots and patches on tummy, chest, face or even the entire body.”

 

I told her this and she said “if it’s that much of a problem you can take it out.” I replied, “well you’re hypersexual so if you have to live naturally with that experience don't mind going thru it as well.” The irony is kinda poetic justice, what was once me trying to destroy my clit is now nearly a decade later an enhancement. I have to now acclimate to near-hellish arousal.

 

Another issue emerged when I was at the gym today just doing my basic workout I got so aroused that my body couldn’t stop oozing arousal fluids everywhere. I went flush with desire and felt like I was about to faint. I am going to use period panties, a pad, or a tampon at the gym for a while because it’s just too intense my body is overwhelming me from multiple orgasms. I literally leaked thru my panties and into my yoga pants and because they are pink well it looks worse than it is.

 

I am sure I will adjust to this change, only been two days. Life is all about adapting to changes also this feels great so the downsides are livable.

 

My personal opinion is if you have a clit of any kind you can’t go wrong doing this since it feels amazing. In my case, I can take out the piercing whenever I want and the hole literally can’t close since the tissue was cauterized.

 

I do however recommend doing it differently than I did. I am grateful that I’m unharmed from the experience.

 

A freshly showered,

Icegirl

 

I am enthusiastically waiting for her it's a combination anxiety and excitement. 😊

 

She's the first person who I been in a relationship with that fills the majority of what I want.

 

A keen intellect, a compassionate heart, funny as hell, into geeky nerdom oh yeah and she is sexy as all get out. 🥹

 

Onto the geekiness

She wants to have a pet day at our club Pokemon themed where we can do battles and since she's an evee trainer in the game I even got an evee costume if it ever happens. Its so cool for someone into pet play-- I think its an amazingly cool fucking theme!

 

Imagine me finding a girlfriend where I can have a discussions about the move set we should bring and if it has enough type coverage. Oh yeah I'm that kinda dweeb and I am sure she has a spreadsheet we can min maximize the value of the attacks. 🤠

 

I am literally giggling as I write this knowing she probably does have that spreadsheet. 😳

 

Yet to go with all that silly fun she can also bring the heat when it comes to BDSM. Most people I been in relationships with are like I'm into kink and what they mean is a light spank before a fuck and going to bed.

 

(Boring) I mean my first day in this club I was suspended and had someone do edge play with a katana in my inner thighs. Vanilla ain't gonna get my attention or keep it.😇

 

Shit I have three scenes in the works that are next level!

 

One where I'm tied or cuffed to a rack and then have wax dropped on me and then scraped off with knives ( thanks blue your the fucking most creative man I have met when it comes to BDSM)🚀

 

Two Article 19 I have a special stash of clothes in my car literally with his name on it when he has time to play with me where he will do an capture overpower chain me up rip off my clothing and torment me. 🤤

 

Three I mentioned it to Tavi and shes like hey we can do that if you really want so maybe tonight! being bound stripped beaten knife played teased to the brink of insanity who doesn't want that? The difference is with her then she can fuck me all she wants which is clearly gonna be amazing. 🤯

 

In what universe could I ever do a vanilla relationship again. In fact I already have to admit to myself and publicly I'm done with that shit if you ain't kink don't bother. 🧐

 

The old BDSM clubs I went to in new york didn't have the robust social element of the one i am involved with now. It was more about doing and experiencing actions.

 

I love that this club has a robust social element that is strong and nurturing. I don't want another type of club again, getting to hang out chat with and get to know people of all types is awesome for this extrovert.

 

If and or when I move away I could totally see myself trying to find another place with this vibe again since its definitely a unique experience I will miss dearly. I am gonna enjoy it every moment I get while I'm here. I am so grateful for the friendships I am making.

 

I am gonna go walk my dog then take a shower.

 

Sitka is probably gonna be subjected to taking a back seat on the attention scale for a little so I better do what she wants now. I don't need my bitch mad at me for being someones bitch. 😅

My first partner in 8 years as a demisexual-

 

Content warning: abuse, SA, queerphobia,

 

Introduction:

I personally required writing about my first sexual partner in 8 years, However since it involves someone else, I have to be careful about what they feel comfortable with me describing. There is an orphic sapphic attraction that is entrusted between us. 

 

I want to illustrate my mental state, thus breaking it into parts makes sense. This entry will focus on my personal relationship with sex, my body, and sexuality. I will not address my partner other than how I determine her worth or go into many specifics other than some events. I know tending to this budding relationship is unbiasedly rational. Electing to be sexually intimate for me is a big deal; this decision must be reflected upon.

 

I have mentioned in previous blogs that I was born female with an intersex condition. I was raised by my family to perform the male gender role and was given treatments and abusive guidance that forced me to adopt a male identity (all of which failed to take long term). I didn't know for sure I was biologically female until I was about 10 years old. although, I started questioning why I wasn't like other boys from four years of age.

 

An important thing to consider:

Parents shouldn’t have the right to keep that information from their children, and non-consenting Intersex genital mutilation should be a crime aside from cases where the life of the child is in immediate danger. No operations should be done without an individual's express input.

 

My earliest memories in life are dealing with these issues, not hard to imagine why I'm uncomfortable within my body. I doubt that will change much over time. I'm just enduring this flesh bag I am forced to inhabit since no other options are given.

 

My first attempt at sexuality and being intersex:

I will never forget my first girlfriend: after my first sexual experience with her, I mentioned that I was intersex, and she immediately lost her mind, yelling at me, "You're a damn H-slur, how could -- you know I only like women!"

I responded, "Can you please not call me that?" and with an emotionally shaken stutter and tears in my eyes  "I am female." She called me a man and said she never woulda slept with me if she had known I was a guy, and I should be ashamed of myself for taking advantage of a real woman.

 

It was so traumatic that it made me paranoid that no one could ever love an intersex body. It is a quite logical assumption since until she found out I was intersex she seemed to love me.  Circumstances surrounding my biology being a cis-bodied female due to a genetic condition was enough to have her go from a tender soul who cherished me to a hate-filled bigot whose anger echoed the screams at the Salem witch trials.

 

I was hated by my family and church for not being able to masculinize. I was rejected by my first lesbian relationship and lost nearly all my friends once I outed myself. So of course I worried that I was destined to be hated for all eternity just for breathing.

 

Being intersex is a unique circumstance, you're not easily placed in one category or able to explain your situation to most laypersons.

There are over 40 intersex conditions to consider, and many doctors can’t even treat you, additionally how you were raised plays a factor, also the operations and interventions which been performed (often without consent), contribute to your headspace, it even can limit what options are currently available for you to choose from in your future. Furthermore, your personal situation interacts with such core concepts as your chromosomes, phenotype, sex, sexuality, gender, and gender expression adding to the perplexing complexity known as just trying to exist in an unkind world.

 

The LGBTIQQAA+ community has an agenda alright that agenda is to live. We want to have the right to see a ray of sunshine and feel it warm our souls with the thought that it's a privilege to be alive. In the trans and intersex community, 41% attempt suicide, and a great many complete the task by taking themselves forever from their loved ones. The base rate of suicidality is 13.42 per 100,000. If suicide happened at the rate it does for the trans and intersex community towards the population at large, it would be the leading cause of death. 

 

I have lost many in this battle for existence. I had been hospitalized for self-inflicted wounds in my youth. Many therapists and medical care that exists barely even offer compassion for this struggle. So what happens is often there's much peer-to-peer support and word of mouth as well as websites about the few competent medical people in existence. Imagine a world where 40 years after the AIDS crisis people still have to whisper about which hospitals and providers to avoid because they are not safe. Well, surprise it still exists how much progress so-called allies love to trumpet when there are so many dead bodies in our community we need several days to remember them all -- it doesn't have to be this way forever.

 

Within the intersex community, there is a discussion about what it means to be intersex. The consensus is that if you met one intersex person, you met one intersex person due to the vast range of presentations.

 

Due to being hurt and hating myself, I never really liked the idea of sex or being intimate. Trying to be vulnerable in front of someone often results in great pain and sadness. Add in a dash of not really identifying with your body, and you have a recipe for no sex. I call myself a Demisexual because there were people I had been with sexually that I enjoyed, but it was rare. Most sex I had when I was young was due to not wanting to be lonely.

 

The final nail in the coffin for casual sex was when one of my good friends in Washington invited me out to see him.  I had reason to go anyway (another friend's marriage), so I decided to carve out some time for him. When he didn't get the sexual response he desired during the visit, he tried to force himself on me. I beat him down, he wasn't expecting a world-class martial artist that could easily make him look silly. Yet with tears in his eyes, he begged me to stay so he could salvage the friendship and apologize for his behavior. He then tricked me into thinking he just wanted to apologize and talk it over some tea. It was laced he ended up drugging me and violently raped me that night.

 

I can never forget begging him to stop, as I could barely move my limbs. He beat on me extra hard for having kicked his ass earlier. When I started crying, he told me the tears only made him harder. It was at that point that I resolved never to allow myself to be penetrated again aside from someone I 100% trusted, nor would I be able to trust anyone without clear evidence. Since If someone I knew and cared about for years could do that, how could I ever really know anyone or trust anything casually again?

 

While at college:

I had a couple of people I was intimate with, but I had rules in place that sabotaged any real relationship from ever growing the notion of letting my guard down -- didn’t even cross my mind.

I wouldn't let any partners touch me. I would have to initiate all contact. The sheer act of even kissing me without permission, I would tell them constitutes assault. The raw level of control when trying to physically touch me made any relationship hard, and many of my partners would often cry and complain about how unfair it was that I wouldn't even try to trust them since they didn’t hurt me. I was set in my ways. If you don't like it "leave" is what I would tell them. I was never going to risk being a victim again.

 

However, I also didn’t have the spirit to admit to anyone that this behavior was a result of my nerves being shaken from having been abused. So maybe if I was honest upfront then they could have at least understood my behavior but I lacked the fortitude to let people know I was a sexual assault survivor like many, I was ashamed to talk about it, and it was perpetrated by someone I knew for and had called a friend.

After college, I made a blood pact with myself that I wouldn't be sexual with anyone ever again unless I trusted them completely and without question. I was surprised it only lasted 8 years because I wasn't expecting to ever be with someone ever again. (I get so wet when I'm aroused. Guess my body is making up for lost time.)

 

So how did a demisexual find the brashness to take the next step with someone?

 

The first part of it was health-related:

Unbeknownst to me at the time, my hormone needs were changing and my body was breaking down (nearly 280 pounds, pre-diabetic, with high blood pressure, fatty liver disease, kidney issues, and bones and muscles that weren't healing after an ambulance accident, I literally couldn't support myself out of bed; I'd fall out and crawl around or hobble on crutches pathetically.)

 

Doctors took a long time to realize that much of this was due to hormonal imbalances, a common issue for intersex and trans people. My body's inability to self-regulate was a direct result. They worked hard to correct that after being wrong for many years. This July, adjustments were made to a different estrogen medication and the reinsertion of progesterone in my med profile. Once both changes were implemented I had immediate progress, yet unintended consequences. I started to have a cycle again and actually developed a much stronger sex drive than I had displayed previously.

 

Despite this, there hadn't been a single devoted sexual encounter in the last 6 months (until last weekend). The need for stimulation ended up causing me to join a local BDSM club in November. I had been a dominatrix in the past, so I wanted to have some fun to blow off steam and always found kink spaces relaxing.

 

Who doesn't want to hang with other perverted, free-spirited fucks? Kink is completely separate from sex for me; I will kink with anyone but only have sex with someone I adore and am in an express relationship with.

 

During this period, I was debating and questioning everything about myself. I allowed things I never had before. I explored my submissive side for the first time. I had always known I was a switch but never had the confidence to explore submission in the community because of the previous abuse. I just didn't trust people enough.

 

I also explored my body for the first time by allowing a couple of people who I kinked with to explore me in somewhat sexual ways, including: trying a fuck machine three times (had to be sure I liked it), getting my ass eaten, being tied up and suspended in the air while having knives carved along my body, having my pussy set on fire, and being beaten. You get the idea, so I decided to explore certain feelings without the burden of a sex partner to see if I could even enjoy stimulus. I enjoy quite intense situations. I am grateful for the people who were and hopefully still are willing to give me the safety to explore my body in a safe guilt-free environment. Conclusion: My body is totally fine with being female I also enjoy pleasure as much as anyone. My issues are a result of my own confusing headspace due to Chronic post-traumatic disorder and gender identity issues.

 

About the self-described pleasure domme and us:

One would expect there was a long courtship before they won my heart and melted the ice for Icegirl, right? Absolutely incorrect assumption!

 

I am pretty sure I encountered them for the first time in November when I first walked into the club, if not on a newcomers' night (went because I was new to that club and it was recommended), or the second day and they were at the front desk doing some work on their laptop in-between helping people, and I tried to talk to them because as an innately friendly extrovert, I try to be kind towards with everyone I meet. Yet they were busy and stressed and seemed to want nothing to do with me, going so far as to politely tell me to buzz off.

 

I was good with being brushed aside as a hyper person; I am used to people finding me a bit much. I am aware I can be distracting if someone was truly busy. I have an inner puppy style where I can be annoying to some who aren't used to managing something with ADHD that doesn't mind the condition and will often feed into the hyper.

I enjoy living life at 1000 miles an hour (1610. KM)! Only When I absolutely have to be truly calm, will I take my Adderall. I avoid it when I can because it makes me unbearably sleepy and sluggish. Depending on when I took the Adderall, it can at times compromise my ability to drive. Paradoxical reactions for the win.

She literally pretty much ignored my attempts to simply have a true conversation with her for another 4 months. I was starting to worry she thought I was a creep or something I just really felt bad since she seemed depressed and I wanted to try and cheer her up.

 

So how did we actually start talking:

I was asked by the owner not that long ago if I could help out by assisting a CPR class and/ or maybe doing Dungeon Monitoring, with my NREMT and WEMT certification and licenses paired with being around the lifestyle for so long can make me an asset. I loved the club and found it fun place to hang out with a cool vibe so I agreed to help in any way possible. I also felt when it comes to DM’s specifically I didn't see many female young DMs and thought it would be good to add to the diversity in representation; besides, nothing phases me, so I said let's fucking do this!

 

I have now DMed like 5 times (excluding 2 shadows) and been so well trusted by my captain he even allowed to help train a shadow. I  played in the club before and after roughly 10 times, so in 4 months, I have gone approximately 17 times out of 32 possible times, although in the last week, I went 4 days in a row! I also helped out at a helping hands event and cleaned the club on a just all hands on deck day.

 

So the last four days at the club

Rope skill share, rope is the latest skill I want to add to my BDSM tool bag (while expanding on my electric experience).

A pet play event

There just have a conversation with my partner.

And finally, a shift I was working as a DM.

 

So for someone who also volunteers often like T at the club, we crossed paths plenty on those 17 days.

 

Yet last Tuesday, these were the exact words she said to me when I was just trying to get to know them. "I'm not really in a great place emotionally, and I don't think this is a great time to get to know me, to be honest."

 

So I figured, oh well, I tried. I had finally saw the sign as a hard please just fucking stop, and as a demisexual, I wasn't looking for anything more than to see if I could make another friend; I was ready to quit trying disheartened.

 

I saw a busy, stressed person who looked like they could use a friend, and I wanted to offer her my love and support. Yet she wasn’t interested. I know my actions are a reflection of myself, and many times in my life I wished people seemed to care when I was having a bad time.

 

Do you know what it feels like to be in the ICU bleeding to death with transfusions going into both arms, wondering if you're going to live or die? Asking yourself, "Do you even want to live?" wondering if maybe that moment is where your story is going to end.

 

Furthermore thinking if you were to expire, not a single tear would fall, no alarm would be raised. Yet here I am clearly alive, so I have always vowed to live my life as if it were a gift. I should only do what I want when I want it, with no exceptions or apologies.

 

But then something happened between us. We both attended a pet play event, neither of us in a capacity where we had to work, and luckily she had a good day and for the first time was willing to interact with me as Pikachu I went as one of my favorite Pokémon. I love being silly and fun and cutting loose. As an EMT who lived a hard life, I have a memory filled with enough tough moments. I just want times in my life that don't need serious get-sh*t done attitude is too much to ask for?

 

Well As we got to know each other, it turned out we had a lot in common and a possible mutual attraction. So we went to go chat during a cool-down moment for the event, and it ended up that we had spent 45 minutes alone together, and even though we both intended on helping after the cool down period, someone had to poke their head in and be like, "We're wrapping up." We were both sorry because we hadn't noticed, and since we are generally nice people, we regretted not taking the time to help.

 

The next day I wasn't even planning on going to the club, but she was going to work it, so I was like, "Ok, guess I will stop by on my way home from work since I would like to chat more and keep company while they work the front." They weren't technically on, but they asked if we wanted to chat more intimately, so we spent the next 45-60 minutes chatting, but my alarm went off to go walk my dog, a Siberian husky named "Sitka," she stole my bra and told me to go walk my dog and we can pick up the conversation where we left off when I’m done.

 

I was so angry since the conversation quickly changed to low-key physical romantic escalation. I didn't want to leave nor was I intending to spend the whole day at the club, so I do my chore and when I returned, it immediately gets turned up to 11. The anticipation of seeing each other made it feel like a magnate that just needed to collide, and sexual escalation seemed natural aside from her constantly asking for permission for every new contact. We ended up fucking hot and heavy in a glass coffin for hours publicly for anyone to see.

 

You might be like, "What?" You went from being an asexual demisexual to fucking in a glass coffin in front of a club with roughly 200 guests who could see you. What the hell?

Note many Demisexuals do like sex we just need to be emotionally connected first. I for one am good with sex so long as it’s not with a cis-hetero male.

 

Additionally, you have to thank my biggest regret for the ability to flip the switch like that Safi, the woman I wanted most in my life before this past weekend. Whom I turned down progressing our relationship sexually for foolish reasons. We dated for almost two years in high school; she was Jamaican and a diplomatic helper daughter who was there for a time helping the embassy and UN studies (I was born in New York City, so such people are not uncommon). I met her under the awning at a mall that was opening; I can still remember her looking shy and waiting for her friends, and me being my extroverted self just pranced on over and asked her why she looked so sad and lonely. To which she replied that she doesn't mean to; it was just how she looks.

 

Little did I know that conversation, not even two years later, was going to end up with me on the floor, mounted by her heavy kissing and petting with her grinding her hips into me, begging me to fuck her. I refused because, as much as I loved her, A had promised her father since he was letting me stay there not to fuck his daughter, B I was uncomfortable with my intersex body, and even though I had sort of mentioned it to Safi, I wasn't sure she understood fully or ever could, C I was staying there with her; what happens if her father or mother heard us? I am just randomly kicked out into the streets of Jamaica with only her friends to help house me until the return trip. I go to the American embassy and be like yeah I fucked my girlfriend and her father kicked me out can you help me get back to America my flights, not for another 5 days and I got nowhere to stay and I’m underage?

 

I made a promise to myself at the time: "IF A NEW PERSON CROSSES MY LIFE WHO I WANT TO LOVE, I AM NOT GOING TO MAKE THE SAME MISTAKE TWICE AND BE KICKING MYSELF OR ALL ETERNITY." Safi, I am still sorry I was only 17, and this is nearly 20 years later; I couldn't possibly make such a stupid mistake twice and turn down someone I lust for.

 

Apart from the obvious, how did I know? When a woman pushes you around naked in a glass coffin and then throws a chuk at you to completely fuck your brains out for 2 hours straight, you don't let a sex goddess pass you up. ( a joke I will get to the real reason in abit)

 

Last night I tried to explain it to her using one of my favorite scenes from Mulan:

Emperor:

The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all.

Shang: (looking confused)

Sir?

Emperor: (annoyed at the stupid)

You don't meet a girl like that in every dynasty.

 

So let's go to the qualities that make her so remarkable to me:

 

I was such a trouble maker when I was young the school tested me for behavior disorders and intellect when they found out the issue was I was bored by the school they recommended me getting therapy and jumping grades.  WHEN YOU ARE READING SHAKESPEARE IN KINDERGARTEN WHAT IN THE HELL DID THEY WANT ME TO DO -- associate with babies of course I was bored and needed the hell out of there?

 

I can't forget one time in first grade we were asked to read to the class what we had been reading at that moment I pulled out my knapsack Oedipus Rex (the play where a king kills his dad, fucks his mom, and blinds himself; you know what normal 6-year-olds are all about).

 

After all, the testing administrators wanted to put me on a fast track to 5th grade, skipping me immediately to 3rd, and moving me again if I could get my math up. My mother and family refused, saying I was so anti-social that I needed socialization with peers and that they didn’t want me to be unable to make friends.

 

Clearly, my mother was on drugs (note: she was a junkie) because how was I supposed to interact with these kids, most of whom were unable to form simple sentences, use grammar, or read anything more than a year or so above their level when I was already reading and writing at the college level?

 

It was at that moment that I made an oath: I didn’t want to ever have a serious relationship with anyone who I didn’t deem my intellectual equal.

 

IQ itself isn’t what matters in my view of intellect, and as I got older, I understood that general intellect isn’t the only measure of intelligence. But a person must be able to keep up with my hyper mind while also challenging me and being someone whose advice I would take as if it were my own.

 

In my own life, I've only met a few people with mutual attraction who were even remotely close, because being a Genius is 1 in 400, then you factor in being gay, which is roughly a 10% modifier, so 1 in 4000, and then add in the BDSM 2% for good measure, for an estimated 1 in 12,000 chance.

 

Now, keep in mind that this is all a numbers game, and one can fish in the right ponds by frequently visiting a BDSM club. Meeting thousands of people by being an open friendly extrovert, asking questions to see their intellect shine while concealing your own because you don’t want to be known as an erudite prude who only likes sleeping with intelligent persons.

 Note I think what's hotter than raw intellect is creativity. The other day at the club one of my friends did the most creative BDSM scene I experienced in while it was perfect on the theme of the night being "at the mortuary" I even had to tell his wicked partner how lucky she is to have someone with such a talented flair for the dramatic.

 

 

 

Back to my partner:

She passed a threshold I didn’t even think was possible. In fact, we are both so smart that we have at times gotten on each other's nerves because we are so used to having to explain what we’re talking about as we say it.

We explain fundamental scientific, social, political, and mathematical principles. It's like, "Um, are you talking down to me?" On more than one occasion, we both had to apologize for the pattern of not having a peer to talk to. I'm literally trembling as I type this and crying from the beauty; for the first time in my life, I can have a conversation with someone without having to fucking explain everything and what it means it's so orgasmic I am in awe of the union.

 

So, if that's not enough of a numbers game for you, something so incredibly rare that it seems impossible has already occurred. Let's get dangerous with numbers!

 

I am an intersex person, and my condition starts out with a 1 in roughly 90,000 chance of occurrence. Then I am a variant that occurs in about one in three people with my condition, known as sex reversal syndrome contributing to persistent mullerian ducts, giving me a 1 in 270,000 chance. Well, since these numbers are looking at XY, let's double them for the whole population. In the general population, I have a 1 in 540,000 chance of being born. The law of probability mean that clearly, I have to occur sometimes it is also why I have been often treated like a freak of nature by the medical community.  Well, This person didn’t just understand without me having to do any education because they are a graduate level biomedical engineer She was able to predict exactly who my primary care provider was and knew all about there education level and flawed knowledge in this area. With such a rare condition, there are only a few experts in the area who could even begin to treat me but she knew the person I would be funneled towards.

 

WHAT A OUTSTANDING SITUATION! She's like Sherlock Holmes, but with a hotter ass and a better kisser. Before I even finished talking about some of my medical situations, she immediately started criticizing the team I had and exclaimed that it was no wonder why I had been so fucked up for a while. Having to discuss actual real-world nonsense about how, after giving my provider countless reachers and even threatening her with lawsuits, I believe I have it under control. I had a real conversation with someone about my health—a conversation I never really had with a partner before because how could they understand what I am going thru.

 

Can you imagine to finally find someone who understands what you were going through and how complicated and lonely it is to make such gut-wrenching life-or-death decisions?

 

These two things alone make her irreplaceable, but I shall now list all the other things that she has shattered:

 

The first person I willingly let penetrate me

The first person I had sex with in a BDSM club or overtly publicly

The first person I let dominate me in anyway sexually

The first person I know has no rules in place other than no scars.

The first person I actually enjoyed having sex with

Only the second person I would willingly die for.

The first person for whom time apart is an agony that eats away at my soul

The first person I enacted the Safi rule for that (everything is a limited-time offer, don’t fear what you want, claim it).

The first person I let claim victory at a board game that I clearly had an advantage on but decided to concede anyway since I was more interested in her and sharing intimacy than continuing to kick her ass at a game she owns and literally it was my first time playing it ever (wink),

The first person I can never truly be angry with if they hurt or harm me because if they hurt me, I must have deserved it in some way, and if it pleases them in service to them, I'd suffer because I've already suffered my entire life thinking I'd never meet someone like them

 

So the moral of this story is that life is chaos. I had no idea the stern bitch who didn’t want to give me the time of day just 4 days ago would end up being the person I have loved and desired most in my life.

 

But I kept being myself. I figured she had a lot on her plate. I looked at the good, the dedication she showed to her work, the club, the diligence with which she did her work, and the passion in some of her writings and said to myself, "There is no way this person isn’t truly a beauty. She must be hurting so deeply and used to shitbags. She's got to protect her noble, generous heart."

 

The fact that I have this opportunity, this one chance at getting to know the woman of my dreams, is already a hallelujah. She isn’t just your flavor of the month; she’s not replaceable; there are no substitutions or refunds; she is a speck of gold found in a mound of sand. She is the type of woman who makes hell seem like paradise since you get to share some of the torment next to her, and that can lift the burdens of anyone’s essence as if a plasmatic discharge; what was once the pain is now a pleasure for the two of us to conjure.        

 

I made a post about having sexual feelings for the first time in my life and I have been getting some people saying how they are happy for me.

 

After this sorta thing kept happening I feel I must clarify since a comment tonight has brought me to the brink of self harm for the first time in years.

 

I feel so annoyed at people reading themselves into my previous post.

 

"I have to admit I'm a little envious of your experience, I had been wishing I could have something that helped my libido and make it easier to connect with potential lovers" (tone deaf)

 

I am in my 30's and literally besides a random naughty dream here or there since 13 over 20 years I had zero sexual interest or desire. I was a hard asexual - with demisexual tendencies because If I loved someone enough I would be intimate with them for their pleasure alone.

 

This was my idenity what I knew about me for god damn 20+ years!

 

A core aspect of my personality my very sexuality is on the verge of death and people are celebrating it🤬

 

like oh its not so bad, we all go thru puberty yours just hit a little later.

 

What's worse is when I talked to my doctors about how emotionally uncomfortable it is making me, they like to point out these feelings are healthy and that since the current hormone balance is making my body healthier, this is thriving! 😵

 

Well I'm sorry not to see it that way, to me it seems like a fucking obnoxious side effect triggered by trying some different hormone levels.

 

With all the medications that exist in the world the right balance has to sexualize me as an unwanted effect.

 

I complain about how frustrating it is because I feel betrayed by my body. I hate her (my body)for not being in lock step with my mind about sexuality anymore.

 

I see this as a corruption of my character.

 

A part of me is debating going non complaint with my medicine. I am pretty sure I'd rather be disabled then have a libido that's how fundamentally uncomfortable this is for me.

 

If you have anything at all to say you can say it publicly or not at all.

 

I don't want any dms over this writing, I am being fully transparent for people who know me so if you wanna talk do it publicly.

 

I am gonna find a way through this situation but it may mean I let my body fall apart. Don't judge what I do by what's right for you, this is my decision and I am being torn apart over it but will come to a decision eventually.

 

Also don't debate my feelings on this they are mine and mine alone.

 

A depressed😮‍💨

Icegirl-

This year my doctor's changed my hormones around. ( Who knew estrogen and progesterone play a vital roll in overall health)

 

In every metric I am healthier then last year. 🎉

 

Yet once everything was balanced my body went to places I never knew existed. I had always been an asexual, who would only have sex with someone to please them because I am loving. 🤖

 

However, with my hormones as they are now that's not the case anymore. 🫣

 

There are times when i'm near ovulation that I am in tears because I want to be penterated so badly it hurts both physically and emotionally. 😵‍💫💢

 

I had no idea a female body could desire being fucked and attended to so intensely before. Even crazier is that my body could become this way with some small tweaks to my medicine. 😲

 

Coming from someone who never really had these feelings before it's agonizingly intense.🥺

 

I am uncomfortable embracing this emergent aspect. I realize that dealing with my body as it should be is the only healthy path forward. 😇

 

But-

 

I got used to how I was, these changes make it difficult to cope. The old me is only a memory, there is a comfort in the familiar and a sense of identity that is now lost. I at times feel hopeless since my world inverted. 🙃

 

Questions?

 

Who am I? 🤔

What does tomorrow bring? ⛅

Will I adapt to the new normal? 🔮

 

I am anxious about my future, I hope that the people I end up interacting with will leave positive impressions. I have had enough trauma for 2 lifetimes. 💯

 

I changed more in the last year, then the previous 10. I can use some low drama fun experiences, is that too much to want from the universe. 🌠

 

Are you willing to explore and adventure with me - as I find bits of myself I never knew? 😳

 

Love the one and only,

Icegirl-❣️

So tonight, due to watching the stupid football game, I ended up walking my dog a bit later than I normally do. As I am out about 11:30, I notice this gray Mustang-looking car sort of going slow on the block above and it’s pacing me and the dog. There's an odd slant coming where the street above me and the street I am on were gonna kinda get really close, so I went jogging really fast with my dog past that area, and I was like, ok, sweet, that's over with. 

 

But no, not even a few minutes after that, from the street I am on – at an intersection between a school and a street – I see the same car with the guy standing outside with a flashlight, and I’m like Jesus Christ, am I gonna have to fight this guy? I'm getting too fucking old to fight people (nearly 30 years of martial arts training, I always carry mace and a knife with me when I go walking).

 

I realize if he's trying to spark an encounter, how to avoid it now. I want to not be taken by surprise, so I dart into a school field far away from the street, so now he and the car can't follow me. He would have to be forced to run up on me on foot, and I will see him and whoever is with him and have time to prepare to fight them. 

 

As I am crossing the school field and watching the stopped car, I am talking to my friend Sid on the phone, telling them how weird this all fuckin’ is and how I really am sick of this kinda shit. Then, I see them outside the car, but they aren't following me, so maybe they thought I was someone else – who the fuck knows? But once I cross the school grounds, I will be in an apartment complex with cameras and a lot of eyes, so I doubt they will follow me anymore. 

 

I end up getting into the complex. They still haven't followed, but I can no longer see their position because of a hill and some of the apartments in the complex that are now in the sight line. 

 

I am telling Sid that if they come in with the car, I know where there is a back fence which basically empties out only a couple of blocks away from my house, and I am ready to sprint if I have to. I will stand my ground and do whatever I have to. As I'm approaching the back gate to the complex, the car does in fact show up and this guy gets out and he comes towards me. I have my cell phone flashlight, shining it right at his eyes while running backwards screaming as loud as I can, “Get the fuck away from me. I will fight you. Leave me alone.” 

 

Then I start sprinting backwards through the gate, watching him as he keeps walking towards me and he’s like, “I wanna talk to you, girl. What’s your problem?” 

 

I was like, shit. this dude and me might have to fight. This is gonna be my last chance for escape before I have to engage, so I turn and run as fast as I can with my husky. I just start yelling, “If you follow me, I will stab you,” making as much noise as I can make while running pretty much down the middle of the road so there is no blind spot. 

 

I run pretty fast (have done max speed on the treadmills at the gym for upwards of a minute, which I believe is 12 miles an hour), not to mention I also had my husky pulling me and my adrenaline in my body spiking, so I was easily running the fastest I have ever ran in my life, maybe 15-16 miles an hour. 

 

What’s funny is my dog was loving it and, like, howling because huskies love to mush. 

 

I got home and had to write this all out. 

 

It’s been running thru my head – what in the fuck was this logical reject of humanity thinking?

 

A) if it was good intentions, you see I noticed you, am avoiding you, and yet you keep trying to pursue me? Take the hint – I don't want your help or to be surprised by a motherfucker I don't know at midnight. 

 

B) if it was bad intentions, you can see I was onto your game. Find an easier prey. I really, really am tired of fighting. The last real fight I had was in 2020; some ass tried to hit me with a chair and I had to disarm him and almost choke him out. I was abused in my life. I will fuck someone up hard, but I’d prefer not to. If you see someone who’s hyper-vigilant with a dog in the middle of the night, know they probably aren't your target. Of course, I wish you wouldn't attack anyone at all, since if you want to violate a woman you see alone at the middle of the night, you should off yourself. The world would be better without your deranged ass taking oxygen molecules. 

 

C) if it was neutral and you just wanted to chat me up because you thought I was pretty or liked my dog or wanted to ask a question like what am I doing out so late, this is not the fucking time. 

 

Whether it’s A, B or C, it all equals D) dumb as shit. I have had people attempt to mug me. I have had people attempt to car jack me. Growing up in not the best section of New York City, sometimes you face a shitty day, but for the love of god, think before you approach me in the middle of the night, because even though the attempt at interacting with me might have been positive or neutral, at that hour I have to assume negative – because the stakes of being wrong are too high.