Otherness

I can't claim to be the nicest person. I'm not. I, just like others, will cast judgement on "otherness" though most of the time I try to keep it to myself. I'm sure that I'm judged as much as the next person; my hair is greasy or not shiny enough; I'm too fat and too short. I'm this, that, or the other. It's human nature. I used to feel incredibly guilty about casting judgment on others but really, how else do we weed out folks we would rather not associate with? The statement is not meant to be elitist but rather as a reflection on how nature works. We prefer to associate with folks who have similar customs, likes and dislikes, hobbies, and so on. It's just the way things are. And just because we are different it does not make some folks better or worse than others. Just different.

I know there's this whole culture of being completely tolerating and accepting of everyone and that we are all love and we should all pretty much be totally in love with others. That sort of culture is not for me. There is some stuff that I just do not care for. There are some lifestyle choices that are not for me.

However, that being said, I must reiterate that just because it's not to my preference or taste and that I might have a negative association with "it", it doesn't make it wrong. It's just not for me.

John, recently in and out of my life faster than...whatever metaphor expresses a quick experience, had sexual preferences that were beyond what I was capable of engaging. While I never wanted him to feel uncomfortable with expressing his sexual preferences towards me, I also had no desire to share those sexual preferences with him. He noted, several times, how great it was that he was comfortable in sharing with me his desires as his previous relationships never left room for conversations such as those, let alone expanding on those preferences.

Being one who understands the complex nature of sexuality and one who comprehends that there is a vast array of sexual choices across the globe, I am certainly not one to judge. Quite simply. And I would not want one to judge my sexual preferences (though they have been judged time and time again. And no, for the last time, bare feet are sexy but that does not mean that I have a foot FETISH).

John had a marriage that, according to him, was hell on earth. His ex wife was hardly the type to change the sexual situation from missionary to anything creative or, heaven forbid, more fulfilling (for both him as well as her). I run the risk on bagging on a woman that I don't even know, but I have to question a woman who refuses to engage in oral sex. I know, I know...it's a PREFERENCE. But sometimes we ignore our preferences in order to provide pleasure to our partners, correct? Apparently the excuse was that her mouth was too small and it "hurt" to "do that disgusting thing." (I don't think it's disgusting).

After John explained all of that, I completely understand why he was did not ever share his tranny pegging fantasy with this woman. If she viewed oral sex as disgusting, then putting on a strap on and drilling him in the ass wasn't about to happen either.

I can honestly say that I can appreciate a slightly depraved sexual fantasy life. However, I had no desire to dress up like a man dressing up like a woman, wear a strap on and dominate my partner. I did not want to show him how to apply makeup and select the perfect shade of lipstick. I did not want to share my knickers with him. He can do that all on his own but I wasn't going to participate.

At one point in my hesitation - no, refusal - to engage in that sort of lifestyle I was told that in order to have a good relationship, I'd be required of me to increase my sex drive for him. For him.

I guess I missed that bit in sex ed, but I've always thought that my sex drive was my sex drive for me to share with others as I choose and see fit. I've been wrong before, according to him, this would be another instance where I was wrong.

While I was busy understanding and accepting his choices he spent a lot of time telling me how and what I should do..how I should feel...and what I should do. It felt incredibly hypocritical. I felt that while I need to accept his desires, he didn't have to accept the fact that I didn't want to.

I never did venture down that path with him. After learning of the "requirements" of our sexual relationship my sex drive pretty much dropped off (and frankly, has yet to recover). We broke up not too long after that.

We exchanged the few things we had left at each others homes. I put his, ahem, items, in a bag and tied the bag shut. I left his stuff at his doorstep...where I found my items. Enclosed was a lengthy letter pointing out all of my faults, true or not, with one particular slander that continues to haunt me, in that I am, apparently, a tremendous whore. Whore.