Be the change you want to see.

That was such a good party! Thanks be everyone who came, who helped with food, with set-up, with cuddles, and with teardown. Jenn was amazing with the food and helping me be organized all props to Jenn!
Sean brought the most amazing parfait for dessert. Amy and Kit brought cider from red branch (POG (yes, POG like those little round discs from the 90's!) and apple)

Felt to me that it became a delightfully integrated group, lots of flirting and chatting, kinksters joking, enbies relaxing... I got to be cuddled up in a pile of hot enbies- Kit, Sabrina, and Dee, and later got to spoon Nija with Amy on her other side, and eventually Cy on her other side after things shifted around,
And then Brandon and I had our cuddle date. Jessica teased us because she said this week both of us had chatted to her about looking forward to it. :D
...more

It's hard for me to put into words how much I love being with someone who shows me I'm desirable on multiple levels. It's been a very very long time since I've had that. He shows me with attention and eye contact, with words, and with how he touches me. And with all three at once. I'm feeling very FED today and I'm enjoying that a LOT.

We're learning how to kiss each other. I told him about not being ticklish, except in trusty bedtime situations. And I was thinking last night as I fell asleep about the kind of touch I want to ask him for. We're being extremely straightforward about our communication. Last night he said, "can I caress your breasts?" And I said yes, and he went exploring. :D

He's very grounding. And I like very much something he wrote recently, about wanting to encourage his friends and lovers to live at full volume more often. And last night he grinned and said, "I'm glad I encourage you to push your faders up"

I've been muting myself off and on my whole life. No blame necessarily, outside the whole patriarchal/kyriarchy system, but

I. WANT. TO. LIVE. LOUD.

More of this!!!

old ghosts (tw: termination of pregnancy)

I was looking in the mirror one day and thought, "I would have none of this if I hadn't ended the pregnancy."

I was 25 years old when I got pregnant.
Can't decide if I should phrase that as "had an unwanted pregnancy", "got impregnated", or what. "got knocked up" isn't quite appropriate for the situation, because I can't afford in telling this story to be too flippant.

it was 1995. My dad had been dead less than a year, after being sick from diabetes and liver damage for several years, declining worse each year.
Mom and I were living together, in the house on Papaya Drive with the 1970's Spanish tile floors and the little fish pond and waterfall in the back yard. I had a great view of the green green green backyard, and had the constant waterfall noise in my ears every night as I fell asleep.


The smell and the feel of that house inform my memories of the time.

Brian and I were having sex and he didn't tell me that the condom broke, till after. Like, it still puzzles me, he says he felt it tearing, he says it was actually kind of painful for him, but he kept going.

He told me afterwards that he thought I wanted him to, to keep going, which yeah, who doesn't wanna get off, but seriously WHAT KIND OF ASSHOLE DOESN'T TELL HIS GIRLFRIEND THAT THE CONDOM BROKE. I still ... *makes incoherent rage noises*

You know how I learned that the condom broke? I reached down to hold the top of the condom when he went to pull out, and the horror of it was that all there was to hold was the ring that was the top of it. That was all that was left. … we had to dig inside my vagina and find it to pull it back out….

I could try to put possible reasons on what he was thinking, maybe it was as simple as HE wanted to get off too so he kept going even without the condom.

But I don't really wanna think about his alleged motivations because **I** was the one who wound up pregnant.

I felt the change in my body almost immediately. Within just a few days after the "accident," my boobs got bigger, the nipples got softer and more tender. My pussy and labia were constantly hot and tender, and I just had this internal *awareness* low in my pelvis and belly. And I had so many feelings about all of it.

mostly I came to a sudden and crystallized awareness that, more than not wanting to have to raise a child, I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with BRIAN. And I knew immediately, at a gut level, that in some way or another, no matter what else, I'd have to deal with Brian forever if I chose to have this kid.

and it was almost inconceivable anyway, (heh, yeah I went there) to think of having a kid. You spend so much of your early adolescence and twenties controlling your fertility really tightly, worried about the what-if. And sex is mostly fun, mostly meant to be fun, when you're not in a serious relationship and *planning* to have a kid…*

I had done research for a paper in college into medical side effects of being pregnant, it's no kind of easy walk in the park! There's real risk of gestational diabetes, blood pressure problems, varicose veins, digestion issues, likelihood of daily vomiting over months, *massive* mood swings and hormone changes, I mean the number of side effects you have to suffer through for a WANTED pregnancy, not to mention the non-zero risk of DEATH, or single parenthood, or ... all the different ways your children hurt you or break your heart.

That little... blue line on the pregnancy test. Oh my god. Possibly the scariest thing I've ever seen, and I already even KNEW. Like, there was no MISTAKING what my body was doing. I had this swirl of emotions going through my brain and body.


And I left the test on the bathroom counter, under a sheet of newspaper.(back when we still took the paper) Like I had zero idea how to talk to my mom about this. I was terrified I was going to be a disappointment to her, but I knew without thinking that if I *didn't* conceal this test, she would find it and know and help me. (and it turned out that she did find it, and she did help me, which I'll talk about at the end)

I can't even tell you about all the other things I was feeling then because even now, 25 years later, it's still hard thinking about that time in my life; emotional chaos and turmoil, still angry and grieving my father's death, along with everything else. I know I haven't quite forgiven myself for my own ignorance (and what feel like bad-choices when I am being hard on myself).

Though, trust me I do know all about the extenuating circumstances. I know why I made those bad choices especially because I have gotten therapy and done a lot of self work over the last two decades. I can see my own patterns and recognize where those impulses arose from and I don't let that part of myself drive the bus anymore, because I've healed a lot of those childhood injuries, or at least mostly healed them. Largely through talking and writing, both writing the blog and longhand and poetry. All kinds of ways.

I was 25, and Brian was 28. Theoretically that was old enough to know what we wanted, but both of us were dumb and inexperienced in relationships. We'd not really thought and especially not talked about what we wanted at the time or at any time in the future. We were just slinging along together because I think both of us thought we were the best we could do.

But we were old enough to decide if we wanted to have a child together and we met at Tower Cafe in downtown Sacramento to talk about it. about two weeks after the condom broke and a few days after I had taken the test. I'd said "we need to get together and to talk face to face" and he said yes, so we scheduled it. We hadn't even sat down properly at the patio table when Brian said, "You're pregnant, aren't you?" and I said yes. I don't remember exactly how the conversation went but I remember it wasn't a difficult or stressful one.

We were unanimous, that we didn't want to have a child (together), and we were both relieved to find that out. That neither of us had to try and convince the other to keep or to terminate. We were agreed to terminate.

I made the appointment. I had to stay pregnant for a total of eight weeks before the hospital could perform the procedure. I don't remember why that was.

To his credit,(Brian) did take me to the appointment, and did get me home safely.

My mom, and this makes my eyes fill up with tears, had a heating pad, an extra blanket, and she'd set up her bed, the big bed, for me to have a nap. She brought me a bed tray with my favorite tea, some toast with jam, and a little rose-bud in a little vase. I absolutely did cry from that, and everything else.

Brian stayed with me there on the bed until I had the snack and fell asleep. It was dark when I woke up, and he wasn't there anymore, and I was disappointed and angry, but realized there was really only so much I could expect from the guy.

Mom was good to me. No judgment, no anger, just support. She had my back. I had her back. We were a good team back then.

I don't like contemplating alternate universes for this story. Like, the what-if game doesn't work out well for me.

in 1995 I hadn't gone back to school to get a teaching credential.

I hadn't met my first husband, or even the boyfriend before him (who was and is a better human being and more thoughtful and kind than either Brian or my first husband).
I hadn't started my spiritual journey that gives me so much richness and meaning in my life (and which I was turned on to by the boyfriend I mention above)///
I hadn't started getting therapy for my relationship with my dad and my inability to grieve him or to get out of the anger stage of the grief.

My mind shudders away from the idea of having had to raise a kid in the conditions we were living in. Not that those were horrible, but it would have been stressful, hard work. And while I know motherhood is supposed to have its rewards, I just don't even know how I would have coped, without the skills that I have been able to acquire BECAUSE I didn't have a kid...

It's this fork in the road that my life took, and I DEFINITIVELY chose the one path and left the other path behind.

I'm glad I am HERE. I'm glad that THIS is what it is. I'm glad to have Eeyore and my priesthood and Burning Man and a lot of beloved friends. I'm glad to have the writing, and the making and the sewing and the dancing, and the work toward social justice.

The ability to choose when and whether to have a child is HUGE in your ability to determine your life's path. HUGE./// 12 Minutes

I don't have any kind of snappy ending, except that I am grateful that I got the chance to have the choice about whether or not to have a kid, and I will continue to fight for other people's right to chose whether to have a kid or not.

NOTES Performed this on the spoken word stage at center camp, Burning Man 2019 Mon August 26. One woman thanked me and cried. One man told me about, before he knew he was gay, his girlfriend got pregnant, and when she miscarried, they also cuddled in bed with the heating pad. And a couple that were pregnant (8 months) and beautiful "the first one I've carried to term"
But the last person said, "did you do this as a TED talk? It feels familiar" and I said no, it was a blog post and he said "huh well I guess we know what comes next"
SQUEEEEEEEEE

TAGS abortion, actions have consequences, anger, becoming, challenge, children, choice, dad, death, designing my own life, feeling some feelings, feelings, guilt, karma, life is good, making things, mom, open hearted, pagan practice in everyday life, paradigm shift, parent, past lives, pathwork, personal cartography, pregnancy, probably more than you really wanted to , sad, self, self-worth, spirituality, state of the liz, stomping brain weasels, stream of consciousness, taking care of business., truth falling out of my mouth, what doesn't kill me makes me stronger, words, spoken word, burning man

You'd think, with how good my life is now, that it'd be easy to pretend.

Pretend WHAT? says the acidic voice in the back of my head...
Pretend that you were happy? Pretend that you felt loved? Pretend that you ever felt safe?

"Yeah," I shoot back at the Nasty. "Pretend that I had a 'happy childhood.'"

I'm an optimist now. It feels as though I have always been an optimist, and perhaps I have. I'm not SURE, though.

From a very early age, I remember... melancholy, and a sense of disconnect from the world around me. I remember deep suffering, and an almost equally sharp despair. I remember a fierce yearning to BELONG somewhere, or to someone, as I never did at home. Convinced that would never happen, I still determined I would somehow learn to be happy. I knew that people were happy, somewhere (though not my family, except in brief glimpses.)

Wasn't it Tolstoy who said that unhappy families were all different and happy ones were all the same? I disagree. I've met so many people from unhappy families, and we all have so much in common... It feels like Tolstoy had it backwards. The folks I know who had happy childhoods seem to me like visitors from another planet.

My own childhood feels as though someone else experienced it. It feels like a story I was told long ago that no longer apples to me, so I have mostly forgotten it.

It's no longer relevant to my current life, my childhood, but it's still true. And it's still a part of my story.
*thinking*

Joy staining backwards. That's how Lucy Maud Montgomery defined it... In her book The Blue Castle, the main character has a miserable life under the thumb of her family and the small minded society of the small Canadian town she lives in. Valancy has a brush with death, determines to make a change for herself in the short time she believes remains to her, and finds happiness for the first time in her life. Her joy in her new life with her new husband is so vivid and rich that she finds even her memories of the miserable grey childhood of neglect, control, and verbal abuse, seem happier as she looks back on them. Like looking on the past with rose colored glasses, her past did not change, but her present joy gives her a new perspective on the horrible events and the grim family that were all that she knew for most of her life.

Sometimes, nowadays, it does seem as though my life has only been contented, full of love, happy, and with my needs met. It's because the contrast between then and now, makes THEN seem completely unreal and distant. Now is what's real. This hilltop I live on now, these woods I ramble through with those I love and those who challenge me and make me laugh. I don't delude myself anymore that I was truly happy, back then. I was lonely, miserable, heartsick, and friendless.

But I am none of those things anymore. Even when I am completely solitary, I am none of those things anymore.

I am standing beneath the same moon as my childhood self, and it is a comfort to me... a comfort that I still have a childlike sense of connection to the universe, to the impersonal unending beauty of nature and the cosmos. I have joy, I have courage, I have friends and family and beloved community. I have plans and goals that draw me on to the next chapter, the next goal, the next adventure.

I know that this moment is just a pause to rest and refresh myself. Anticipating the next big adventure, like my heroine in The Blue Castle, doesn't mean I've forgotten my past, or am in denial of what life was like, then.

Now is different. These hiking boots don't come with a rear-view mirror. They do help me carry my permanent sense of wonder, along with all the other tools I now possess. Life is amazing, NOW.

And Now? That's where my focus is.




This has been my entry for therealljidol, week 11. The prompt was "recency bias."

I'm enjoying writing within this community very much. If you enjoyed this post, or got something out of it, please consider voting for me so I can continue to write with these amazing and supportive people. The polls are available HERE , and I'm returning back in Tribe One.

I have no doubt there are lessons and Lessons to be learned here& I know it ain't over yet.

Here's one for today, related to the post I made a couple days ago:

Don't live in your body half-assedly or absent-mindedly.
It is only flesh and someday it will fail you.
Treat your body with Love and Respect.
Treat your body like Home, because that is what it is.
Live there. Live HERE, not in the past If Onlys or the future When I Finallys.
This is not a fucking dress rehearsal. What the fuck are we waiting for!