Ode to the Suburban Mobile

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Oh, little minivan,
When I first sat behind your wheel
I felt captain of a rocket ship
Navigating the universe!

What we have been through, you and I!
Childbirth and car seats
Pinching your microfiber softness
You held my babies well!

Car trips across country
With french fries and apple juice
Filling your backside
With just-in-case paraphernalia

And now, you wonderful beast!
Now you protect my child
As she jerks you around
Learning the intricacies of your hearty mechanics

To you, divine creature, I write this
Do not let my wandering eye bring you down
Forever you will be my favorite transport
I’m just looking for a compact friend for you

Freedom of the Eagle I Once Was

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When I was an eagle
I would soar through the skies
Wind in my face
Pushing against my feathers
With the force of the gods

When I was an eagle
I would fly over oceans
Mountains and forests
Taking in lands no man
Had yet dared to explore

When I was an eagle
I would leap from small branches
Atop cliffs high above valleys
Never stopping to wonder if my wings could indeed carry me

When I was an eagle
Eyes sharp, talons at the ready
Eliciting fear in tiny creatures
Scampering in grass below
I cowered from no one

I soared to great heights
Trusting my wings
To carry me abroad and back home
Nestled in rock overlooking
My land of the free and the brave

She Left Her Skin on Me

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I saw Her one last time
She came to have Her say
And Her say was “Good-bye.
I will be here if ever you wake up
And change your mind.

“For you are not what you think–
Not a lover of two, but One,
And I will always know this about you
No matter what image you project
To that world that listens to you.”

And with that, She turned
And flew out the window,
My heart in Her hands
My soul in Her heart
But leaving Her skin on mine.

Love in the Corner of My Eye

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Looking before me, I move about my day
Celebrating a birthday, paying bills, taking a walk
But out of the corner of my eye You are there
Your face close to mine, I feel your breath
Missing You hums constantly as the bass of my song
Filling the spaces with steady rhythm
My heart cries to You, “I miss You, Amada Minha!
You are a jewel in my eye, immovable!”
My head says, “Shhh…Let Her be. Let yourself be.
Let your Love flow through time and space
But in the presence of what is.
Nothing can ever separate what is Real!”

What Temptation Torments You?

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Torment is…

Going on a diet
and your best friend brings you cookies

Promising not to gamble
the day your bonus check comes in

Promising that same best friend that you will have dinner
the night your crush calls to see you

Committing to being alcohol-free
and smelling that glass of wine at the table next to you

Telling yourself you will go to the gym today
and it pours down rain, snow and ice on the same day

Knowing you’d be an asshole to call Her
but wanting to do it anyway

 

Ok, your turn! Let me feel your pain…

Quiet, Grieving Ego!

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Keep calm, grieving ego
You can’t contol this pain
You can’t go back, no, but
Afraid to move forward

You won’t be able to replace the loss
With blogging or working or chocolate
You can’t keep trying to recreate
Something so special
When it didn’t work the first dozen times

And you can’t pretend it never happened
Pushing it out of your mind
Like somebody else’s business

No, little ego,
You will just have to grieve
To breathe through the pain
Like childbirth
Eventually, only the love will remain

Confessions of a More In than Out Bisexual Woman

I have read several blog posts recently about bisexuality, its stigmas, questions about it, the lack of understanding, and so forth. As a bisexual woman, I felt it was my civic duty to share with you my experience to give you one perspective of millions, I’m sure. Everyone has their own story about their sexuality, relationships, romance, etc. This is only mine.

I only accepted my sexuality after I met Her (my special friend outside of my marriage, for all of you just joining the conversation). We met online, then in person, but only established our “more than friends” relationship online later. There was no doubt I was falling in love with her, and very attracted to her. I had visited her, only as a friend, when she was here visiting family. We spent a weekend together, and I could feel something between us, but I thought it was because she was such a great person and we resonated in so many areas. It was only after she left for her own country that I noticed how much I wanted to talk with her constantly, and I was always thinking about her. I didn’t think it would go anywhere, except more friendship. She hadn’t even told me yet that she was lesbian. Then one day, she did. She could feel what was happening between us and wanted to talk about it. I denied anything at first, reminding her that I’m married, etc. She would have nothing to do with my denials, but that’s how strong the energy was getting between us. So I finally admitted it. I’m not sure what either of us were thinking at the time, we just knew what we were feeling. The next time she came to town, we had the most beautiful time together.

So that was the consummation of accepting that I am bisexual, but I have through the years been attracted to women, not always ones who were available to me. Being bisexual is a bit stranger than being straight or gay…Since I could blend in to the hetero mainstream, I didn’t think much about what I felt, except that those thoughts were probably not okay. No one talked about bisexuality when I was a kid, you know? I always would stand up against people talking bad about being gay, probably because of my own private feelings, but never applied that “right to exist” to myself.

I was mostly attracted to guys in high school and college; or, at least, those were the feelings I acted upon. The others I just tried to brush off. When I was 10 years old, there was a nurse at the Girl Scout Camp I attended. Her camp name was Birch and I had the biggest crush on her. She was the nurse and made announcements every morning. She had a sweet smile. My hands would sweat, and stomach flip every time I saw her. I shared in an early post that I wasn’t smart enough to hurt myself so I’d have to go see her. I’d probably be too shy anyway. When I was in college, I realize now I had a fan girl crush on Amy Ray of the Indigo Girls. I still do, actually. God, that woman is the perfect picture of hotness to me–my “type”–a little on the masculine side, but with definite femininity that shows through. I had a severe crush on my best-friend-who-is-also-lesbian, and we talked about my attraction to her when it was going on. I’m not her type, fortunately, so we just became close friends. I was married then, too. I’m not sure how I brushed that one off. I think I justified that I was misinterpreting the fun we had together, and how easy it was to talk with her.

I have always felt more compatible as friends with lesbian woman than with straight women. I’m a mom in the suburbs but can’t relate to other suburban moms. They are far too girly-girl for my taste. My experience has simply been that lesbian women are more interesting.

Even though I have only been with men before Her, my fantasy life has always been about women, with the rare exception. I read somewhere years ago that in advertising, women see women and put themselves in their place, understanding how she would feel; while men don’t. That is why there are more photos of women in ads in women’s magazines, and photos of women outnumbering men in men’s magazines. Women relate to women; men relate to how a woman makes them feel. Anyway, I brushed off my fantasies to that…but still kept them going! Nearly every time I have made love with my husband, I use my own fantasies to help me be with him. I saw an interview with Lady Gaga a few years ago, where she was answering the question, “What does your song “Poker Face” really mean?” She shared that it was because when she had sex with her boyfriend, she was thinking about women. Whoa! I’m not the only one??? That was the first time I ever felt that maybe something wasn’t wrong with me, that I was not repressed sexually, after all, and my fantasies weren’t a sign of some kind of mental illness or other sickness.  

I took a class in college on LGBTQ issues as an elective, thinking that, since I was such a goddamn accepting person, that it would be an easy class for me. I learned more for life in that class than any others. As well as myself, even if I didn’t admit it at that time. My instructor was lesbian and dating someone who identified as female-to-male (f2m). She disclosed a few of her own challenges with the process her partner was going through. When they got together, he hadn’t decided to become male yet. She fell in love with a woman, she shared with us, and isn’t attracted to men, so she was having a hard time accepting his process as far as their relationship went. She broke up with him by the time the semester was over.

Also during that class, we had a heated discussion about bisexuality and monogamy. Is it possible for someone who is bisexual to be satisfied with committing to one side of their attraction possibilities? In my self-righteous younger days, I argued yes, of course! It is about commitment, love, respect. I mean, if my husband wanted to have sex with someone with bigger boobs than me just because that is what also turns him on, no thank you! There is no difference!

Well, now that I am not a woman/woman virgin anymore, I can tell you that it is very different. Being intimate with Her was vastly different than being with a man. Part of my difficulties that I have oozed all over this blog the last five months is because I love being with her as a woman. I miss that a lot. I miss her in all, but that’s not what this post is about. I miss the softness of a woman, inside and out. I am having to let that go because of my decision to remain with my family. Yes, I love my husband, sex is good, he is a good person. But my fantasies about women continue.

My best-friend-who-is-also-lesbian said to me after hearing about my affair (and after offering me a toaster saying “Welcome to the club”), “You can’t unknow what you know.” And that is so true. If I had never been with Her, I wouldn’t know what I was missing. I could have continued to deny my thoughts and feelings as just “stupid fantasies”, and “if I was really faced with having sex with a woman I would probably not truly be interested.” But those days are gone.

That said, I still believe in monogamy, as many of you do. My affair wasn’t only about sex. If it was, I’d have no problem finding some local woman to have sex with whenever the urge arose. And, as I recently wrote to a new friend I found here, “It is still more a matter of love, acceptance and happiness with life that is important, and to achieve that, we all have to make choices, you know? And when we choose one thing, we close the door to something else. That’s life. And, sometimes our choices get made for us. That’s life, too. This is cliché now, but it really isn’t what happens to us in life that makes or breaks us, but what we do with those experiences.”

Thanks for reading. Thanks for your interest in one small story out of many billion that are out there.

Goodbye, Butterfly

Goodbye, Butterfly

Goodbye, Butterfly With wings of glistening hues I cherish every moment spent Flying high with You Through fields on mountains And majestic skies Even in the valley low You were there before my eyes Goodbye, Butterfly We’ve shared a love … Continue reading

I’ll Move Forward after My Coffee

Coffee in one hand. Phone in the other. Reading emails at breakfast. Yep, all the signs of heading back to work.

We had family game night last night, since the kids and I were too tired to put our clothes away yet. I felt like I was crawling out of my skin when waiting for others’ turns, wanting to obsessively check my email to see if She had responded in some way.

Nothing. Of course.

My husband and I didn’t even make love last night, even after not seeing each other for over two weeks. That is the luxury and the curse of being married for over two decades. It was fine with me. I would have just been fantasizing about Her the whole time, and that wouldn’t have been good to him, to Her or for me. We talked instead about how to protect our children from my dysfunctional relatives at the next my-side family reunion next year. My husband comes from a very small family, both nuclear and extended. I come from an average sized nuclear family with a huge extended family, barely half of whom I would ever want my children to meet. We have gone out of our way to miss family functions over the years. For my kids, I don’t mind looking like an asshole when it comes to their safety.

While making my coffee this morning, I thought about maybe sending Her flowers again. It was amazing the first time…A bouquet of roses arriving at Her office with a card in a foreign language that only She could read. It made 5,000 miles not seem so far, at least for a few days.

This time, the card could simply say, “I’m sorry for the pain I have caused You. You are too lovely to hurt.” And perhaps a more colorful bouquet instead of roses.

But why? So that She forgives me and sends me an email and We start talking again which will compound our feelings for Each Other and then I will have to say all over again, “Sorry, I can’t do this; but even though I love you with every cell in my body, heart and soul, the division and guilt are too much for me to handle day by day”?

No. Better that She feels that She can never forgive me. It would be easier on both of Us. There are people I greatly admire for whom leaving a marriage for their same-sex true love (not that sex is ever a factor in true love—not ever), but that is not in my cards this lifetime. I tried. I’m not sure I shared on this blog just exactly how close I came to leaving my family for Her.  

But I don’t feel like getting into that today. Today is about putting down reckless wishful thinking and moving ahead, an act that will allow Her to be free, too.