My Most Un-PC Post Ever

Politically-Incorrect

I have quietly sat on the sidelines, watching the world pass me by, feeling like a really old cranky woman.

Scarily, I can relate to some of the dotard supporters.

I wonder if being Politically Correct has not gone too far. Way too far.

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Crazy Making!

Some of the things that make me shake my head in bafflement:

  • the ever-morphing gender names
  • the ease with which to transition
  • kids medically and surgically transitioning
  • how one can “be” a she/her in the morning, a they at lunchtime and a he/him by sunset… and how anger feels justified if someone misgenders the person
  • how people quash free speech in the angry alt-right
  • how stupid the president is… and no one is stopping the crazy-making behaviors before he kills all of us
  • how easily people lie (myself included)
  • how men really are led around by their cocks (blame my sex work job for that one)
  • how transwomen insist they were not acculturated into the male world growing up and insist on crashing women-only spaces
  • how people lobby to make Disney characters gay or lesbian
  • how the word “fat” is the nastiest epithet someone can call another person
  • how the more I know about Islam, the less I respect it
  • how “christians” in the US have become the most hateful people on earth (so much for cultivating new christians through love and kindness)
  • how stupid people can be not understanding kneeling for the National Anthem – they are purposefully being angry just to annoy those of us who believe Black Lives Matter
  • how a “snowflake” is now an epithet instead of a lovely geometric design
  • how “The Wall” is quietly being built and people just sit and watch
  • how Flint, MI still doesn’t have clean water (that legacy is going to haunt us for eons)
  • how Puerto Rico is being treated like shit because they are brown people and how Americans bloody well know it and don’t care in the least
  • That In the Heights in Australia was shamed into not being performed amidst accusations of whitewashing when they did their best to fill the actor slots with People of Color

I was tempted to defend myself (I use PC terms when I can, I am not prejudiced against these folks, etc.), but I am leaving this piece to speak for itself.

Thank Stephen King’s On Writing: A Memoir for the Craft for this vomiting of things I have been too afraid to say out loud. He tells writers to “Be brave!” and write the things that are the most difficult to say.

So I did.

(And yes, I feel shame.)

Who Is “45”?

“45” is what I call POTUS, the 45th president of the United States, that horrid man who squats in the White House tweeting (LYING) about random topics to divert our attention from the fucked up bullshit he does that will, PLEASE GODDESS, get him impeached.

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Gender Socialization Reappears

Past Imperfect

It had been 30 years since I’d been in a relationship with a cis male until last year when my cub (who is 20 years younger than I am) and I began a cyber-relationship. He and I are in a BDSM relationship, my being Domme and he, my submissive.

I am an awesome Domme after 25 years as a submissive. I am able to dig deeply into a submissive’s mind and use the information to my Domme-ly benefit. I am also a Domme at my job, having no problem holding my role easily.

And now, my cublet and I are in a deep rift in the relationship, something I will write about another day, but one we seem to have committed to working on together.

Present Imperfect

We both had a really hard day yesterday, lots of tears, lots of texts and emails back and forth, some of which continued through the night on my end.

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Today, I could not stop crying despite both of us pledging love and working together last night and then sweet words in text this morning. I was a fucking mess. I couldn’t breathe, my heart hurt, I was really having a hard time.

From early morning, I wanted reassurance that everything was okay between us, but I fought hard not to text him at work. I lasted until 1pm, then asked, “Do you still love me?”

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artist, Plexure

After we talked on the phone and exchanged love-confirming texts, I sat back and looked at my feelings and behaviors. I was fucking disgusted with myself.

Future Imperfect

I am demonstrating total female socialization behaviors and being with a cisman somehow magically transformed me into a whimpering, begging, insecure, needy and, if I do say so, disgusting girl (definitely not a woman) needing validation from a MAN! From a man 20 years my junior, no less! Where the holy fuck was she hiding that she would smell a cisman’s sweat (even over the wires) and poof recreate the horrid female I thought I’d left behind after 35 years of therapy?

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From I’m Glad I’m a Boy, I’m Glad I’m a Girl

I am hoping that with the recognition, I will chill out and re-find my balance as a grown woman.

I am, however, looking for the hole that unevolved being crawled out of so I can shove her back in and seal up the lid.

Good lord, brainwashing sure does stick around.

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