“Happy May Day,” I said to my spouse.  It was early morning, and he was going back to sleep.  “I’ll dance around your may pole later.”


Recently I fell out of love with my homegirl.  It’s an intense change.  My sexual desires and feelings for her comforted me, even while her rejection floored me with sads.  My sexual longing for her was a constant part of my life.  During times of stress or boredom, I would think of her in a tender or hot way, which was stabilizing.

She was comforting: the physical contact, sharing in her well-being, and pulling her deep into my life.  It felt great that she welcomed me and wanted to spend a lot of time with me.  I have keys to her house, and I know a lot about her struggles and her past.  Felt great to have such an intimate friendship.

But her not wanting me back sexually was painful.  The situations was like smoking cigarettes–what calmed me down started to make me deathly anxious.  The benefit got canceled out and lost.  So I quit smoking.

Likewise, my sexual desire for my homegirl was messing up our friendship and my life.  So I suffered and cried and prayed.  Finally I prayed to my mom and her mom, and my suffering was eased.  As of a few days ago, I finally no longer want my homegirl sexually.

caring less

I was unprepared for the emotional part.  Suddenly I care less.  For months I had been asking her to turn up her love and consideration of me, and trying to find ways I could turn mine down, so things would feel more balanced.

Suddenly my wish is granted, and no longer is her health and wellness at the center of my life.  Have you eaten, what’s your pain today, how are you feeling, what are you up to today, have you talked to your parents, are you going to acupuncture, when is your next show?  How did you sleep?  May I pet your hair?  Do you have what you need?

I was obsessed with this lady’s life trajectory and plans.  I wanted to be a big part of her plans.  No wonder it hurt so much and I took it personally, when she seemed like she wanted to throw her life away.


Sex is not the same thing to me as it is to her.

For me sex is:

Two people love each other, want to spend their lives together, and do sex as an ultimate bonding activity for mutual pleasure and learning, long term, on a nearly daily basis.  Healing trauma through kink, including pain and power play, is intense and amazing.  I want to be as close as I can to this person, as real as we can be, and ask them to completely know me.  And I want the same in return.  I want to communicate, be clear, stay playful, and keep it in motion and alive for what may turn out to be decades.  Sex is powerful and the most complete expression of who I am.  It’s serious, important, spiritual, and my favorite kind of fun.

Sex is something I never experienced with my homegirl, but the sense I get is:

Two people have chemistry and desire, may or may not know one another well, and want to satisfy urges mutually.  Pain and trauma will come up but should be avoided.  Feelings are volatile, obsession is normal, and communication is nil.  Processing is unwanted.  Sex is a way to lose the self, not to find or express the self.  Sex is a distraction from life, like weed or youtube videos, but with way more trauma-baggage.  An intense physical urge, sex is dangerous, with landmines such as shame and dysphoria.  Sex is serious and important, but not actually fun.  Sex is wanted, but mostly to feel desirable and feed the ego.


She never told me most of this, but over the half-year we’ve been close, I’ve gathered that sex is not where my homegirl goes for nourishing and connection.  It’s more of another way to self-harm.

Lately I’ve relearned that when I’m getting close to someone and romantic / sexual desire is involved, we need to be on the same page about most of our world-views and values.  Or else we’re going to clash in big ways.

I consistently assert my world view about what sex is and what I like about it.  But there’s no reason for anyone to try out my ways of doing things, unless they see their ways aren’t working and feel curious to make change.  This homegirl struggles with self-destructive tendencies, disabling sadness and anxiety, executive dysfunction, logistical life problems like scheduling and tracking anything, housework, hygiene, and many aspects of life.


Yet she is scared of change and avoids it.  She’s never said to me–wow, you have a wonderful way of doing such and such.  I would like to try that.  I don’t remember hearing her question her values, motivations, or world views.  Our whole relationship I’ve felt like she only sees about a third of who I am.  Things I’m really skilled at, she doesn’t express interest in learning from.

It’s like I’m a world class baker, and she buys generic cheap packaged nonsense from Malwart.  Or I’m the best Mixed Martial Artist in the world, and she keeps getting beat up outside bars, but it never occurs to her that I could give her a self-defense lesson.

Or she loves flowers and I grow flowers, but she thinks she only likes roses, and I have North American’s most award-winning dahlia garden.  She decided she doesn’t like dahlias, so she never visits my flowers or learns anything about them.


It’s the time of lust in our hemisphere.  We’re animals, and that’s ok.  Might as well enjoy it.

Suddenly my sexuality is turned to my spouse, and my sexual needs go almost entirely to him.  I hope he enjoys the attention.  I want to please him and be who I am with him.

I’ll dance around his maypole and worship him through his dick.  So grateful he loves and wants me.  A lot is shifting right now, and I’m happy to change.

By Nest

Curious, disabled Earth Goddess, telling the truth.

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