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I Write about Sexual Ethics

There are circumstances under which a legal adult may be considered incapable of giving meaningful consent, such as when they are too drunk to consent.

I write really in hopes of helping others figure out what I never did: How a couple can find their way to a happily monogamous relationship...

My writing is sometimes supportive of things like polyamory or open relationships to some degree. Sometimes the journey we take is not as straightforward as we might like.

It's also sometimes critical of such practices because often people practicing such things aren't doing so ethically. 

I also take a critical eye to heteronormative relationships and all the ways those go wrong.

I'm not your friend. We don't know each other. I don't "approve" of your alternative lifestyle. I can't meaningfully approve of something when I don't actually know you personally and the details of what you are up to.

I have had relationships that fell outside of what society thought I should be doing. I write about such things at times in hopes of casting light on how to try to better navigate life in this imperfect world.

I'm not on track to ever get laid again. That's one part medical stuff and one part tearing my hair out about every idiotic detail of "I have no clue how anyone has sex ethically without one or both parties making the other their bitch in this CESSPIT of a planet."

I'm okay with the choices I made in the past. I got married at nineteen to another nineteen year old and we had two kids and I supported his career and we had a better marriage than most people seem to have. 

But I never got a real career while married nor since leaving him and I'm absolutely not interested in marrying for money and if I ever have money of my own, I have no idea whatsoever how to navigate having a relationship from potentially the traditionally male side of things if I have the money and the power.

I foresee a vibrator or dildo in my future if I ever have money. I have given up on figuring this shit out.

In the twenty years I've been celibate for medical reasons I've been fortunate to have known some men long distance who were incredible high minded ethical highly competent amazing people. And they chose to not rescue me like all the Cinderella fairytale style stories say your true love will do.

Because I have a genetic disorder and swooping in to rescue me financially in exchange for sex would have killed me. So I'm alive because multiple men loved me enough to not play hero to my damsel in distress.

And I'm just not able to figure out what the "love" looks like that involves actually getting with a man in the flesh. It doesn't compute and something died inside somewhere along the way.

I would like to write and make clothes and this love nonsense be damned.

I write in hopes that my thoughts on the debacle that is my life smooths the way a tad for other people. My heart has been ripped out too many times and the head fuckery of having my heart ripped out so men I NEVER met in the flesh could breathe life into me is just well beyond the pale.

I don't have it to give. 

I'm NOT a role model. I'm a human being, warts and all, who did everything I was told I was supposed to do to be a good woman and lovable and it's gotten me raked over the coals by men unwilling to kill me with kindness.

I'm not your personal savior. I'm not your one true love. 

I'm a writer and you don't know me as well as you imagine you do. I write in hopes of making you think about YOUR life and how you might make better choices, not in hopes of getting you to insanely obsess about me and my life like you imagine your life would be perfect "if only I had the right woman, someone like HER."

That's delusional nonsense.


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