Category: Harrasment

Yo. All Men. Its Fucking OVER!

On October 10, 2019

In Autobiography, Feminsim, Harrasment, Life Theory

I am DONE with men. All men. It is time, after 30 years of putting them first and getting zero in return, to cut the fuckers out my life.

I have spent the last few years being incredibly protective and defensive of myself after years of abuse and harassment from men. Men in the street, at bars and clubs, on dating apps, in relationships, after one night stands. Over and over. It got to the point where I couldn’t leave my house without at least 5 men sexually approaching me EVERY DAY. The first year in the bus I didn’t wear shorts once. I wore hats, large clothes, baggy hoodies, to hide my femininity, so men wouldn’t see an attractive woman alone in a bus. I have spent the last 5 years avoiding all social situations where I have to interact with men where I don’t know their intentions. I have called other women stupid for putting themselves in obvious situations with men that lead them to being harrased, raped, hit on, or attacked. It had gotten to the point where I knew it was irresponsible for me or other women to be alone with any man you aren’t sexually interested in yourself. I’ve had married bosses proposition me, tour leaders on trips rape me, strangers approach me constantly. One time I’ve given an older man the benefit of the doubt during a nice chat at starbucks that seemed genuine, intelligent and platonic, and gave him my number so we could share more ideas. This man was older than my father. He went bat shit crazy. Hitting on me and then abusing me when I rejected him. A man in his 60s. This has all meant I’ve spent the last few years rejecting seemingly innocent or pleasant social interactions or developing friendships with anyone, avoiding certain social opportunities and basically being trapped inside myself. I realised I couldn’t be myself around people. When im open, confident, caring and happy, fully free to be me, men abuse me. So I started hiding myself. Becoming defensive, more angry, more shut off from the world. Just so people wouldn’t like me so much.

The past couple of months, with the help of a good therapist, I have started to get back into myself. Reconnect with who I am and how I bring myself joy. To get back to being able to be me, comfortably, happily, freely. And this has been going very well. I’ve been going to AA meetings and growing my ability to socialize. In this vein of growth and challenging myself, when one of the sweet old men in the group offered to take me on a hike, I agreed. I spent many days weighing up my decision. Was I being stupid and putting myself in a bad situation? Am I asking for trouble? What are his motives? What are my fears? Why am I so scared to do something so simple and innocent and nice with another human? How will I be able to ever connect to anyone if I don’t practice? I cried many times in the week before the hike. I was so scared. Scared to socialize in a platonic way as I am so out of practice. Scared he will annoy me and I’ll have a shit time and waste my day off. Scared of all the shit that has gone before and why I isolate. But here was a man, in AA, good friends with other members I know, old, ex adventure guide, with a passion for hiking and the local area to match mine. A safe person. Right?

Wrong! 12 miles in to the hike, and thankfully only 2 miles from the end, he proceeded to inform me of his attraction to me. Physical from the start and now even more interested in my personality and attitude. This all came out cause I asked how old he was. And he was embarresed to tell me cause he fucking fancied me. And the whole fucking thing had been driven by that motivator for him. I had an inkling. 2 miles into the hike we passed a couple of women, older than me, younger than him. He told them some history on the hike and when they asked if he was a guide he said ” No, I just get to take very attractive women out on hikes every now and then.” Cringe. But a harmless funny old man comment, right? Wrong. At lunch when I was talking about the love I have for the area and my passion to be a part of it, he said he was feeling the same thing between us as the first time he saw me and we looked at each other a certain way and asked if I remembered that. I played that off as a connection and understanding about our energy and love for the land. 7 miles off trail there isn’t much more you can do to avoid the situation when you have 5 more hours to spend together. So when he finally came out and said it and tagged on a story about his ex who was 24 years younger and couldn’t handle the age gap, I ended up blathering on about my moms ex who was 15 years older and she couldn’t handle that gap. And then onto my negative experiences with men and how it affects me and thus I how at the moment I currently choosing me and avoiding men. He wasn’t asking me out or anything direct, just expressing an attraction. At the bottom of a 800ft climb. So I couldn’t reject him or shut him down. Especially when he talked more about being alone for 8 years and how hard it is. I didn’t want to hurt or upset him. But WHAT THE FUCK DUDE? You met me at AA. You aren’t a year sober yet. You are 28 years older than me. We are alone in the wilderness. You made no indication that your motivation for spending time together was romantic or sexual. And you spring this shit on me.

I had spent the day until that point being me. Freely, happy, confident. I wasn’t overthinking what I was saying. I wasn’t worried about how I came across. I wasn’t being defensive or protective. I was, I thought, with a friend I could relax with. But the more me I became, the more he liked me. My heart sank in that moment and I spent the rest of the hike back into the uncomfortable, blathering about things, over thinking, talking to fill silence, anxious, closed, protected state I am used to. I stuffed the thoughts and feelings related to this betrayal down and didn’t let myself think or dwell on it…till I got home. I had to drive him home, where he offered dinner and a shower and then invited me to a movie or something, some way to spend more time together. I awkwardly denied the dinner stating I was too tired. But as I had a good day I said I had enjoyed the time and non comitially agreed we should do something else some time. And then I drove off alone.

That is when the disappointment set in. Yesterday was meant to be an experiment for me to socialise in a pleasant way with someone with similar interests, to help me grow, to open me up. But instead it turned in to every single other experience I’ve had with men like this. I was and am so hurt that he couldn’t just see me for mea and just want to know me as a friend. That it had to inculde my looks and sex and attration and wanting something from me. All men want something from me. Its my fucking job to give men what they want from me. But at least in that dynamic they pay me. Other men I’m interested in only want the sex and not to know me at all. And the rest of all men just want me and want things from me with zero connection to reality about whether they are someone I would be interested in and can’t comprehend just being friends with me. I was and am angry at myself for putting myself in the situation in the first place. Stupid girl. I’m ready to quit AA and leave my favorite place in the world cause I feel so uncomfortable. I am disappointed and angry and sad at myself for how I handled the situation…AGAIN. Being nice, giggly, trying not to hurt his feelings, being gentle, leaving the door open and not being assertive or myself in any way. Feeling walked over. And so so so so so so so disappointed.

I had to have my mom call me from england at 4am her time to help me deal with this and not run away or fall into depression and anxiety, isolationism and anger. I have a VERY fragile mental health condition that is in early days of recovery. A mental illness that will kill me if one more person affects me the way others have in the past. So I am getting a lot of help and support at the moment. She helped me reign in my fear and desire to leave. She talked to me about “Fierce Conversations” and coming up with a plan for me to be able to reject men in a clear and firm way that sits much better with who I am personally and professionally. And we talked about how I can plan to deal with the situation with this man who is at every fucking AA meeting i NEED to go to. She stopped me escalating into the all the other problems that come from my interactions with men and acknowledged they are things we can address in the future. Allll the while, i was feeling guilty for feeling so bad about a sweet, old, sad, lonely man. The guilt and empathy fills me with sickness and sadness that is balanced out with anger, frustration, confusion, annoyance, and so much disappointment. But by the end of the conversation, I was feeling much less like throwing my life away to escape a man…again.

However I am going to be avoiding AA for the next few days. I am going to a women’s meeting tonight where I am going to get an older female sponsor. I am going to be leaving town to park up out in the wilderness to escape all people while I recover for a few days. And more importantly than any of that, I am going to be saying No to anything with ALL men from now on.

Because of this straw, the camel’s back has been broken. The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. So after 30 years of trying to make it work with men, I give up. I quit. I’m out. Im done. Fuck you. Fuck all of you.

The last month or so, my new motto has been “choose me”. I had already decided to avoid sexual interactions with men as that is a whole other can of worms on how that doesn’t work out for me and damages me every time. I had hoped that meant I could develop my non sexual relationships with men, people with whom I can do the activities I value. But that clearly just isn’t going to work. Men HAVE to be off the table. No men. Work on growing my connection to women and developing my skills at meeting women. Only women.

My job, that I love with all my soul is providing a service for men who are willing to make it a mutually beneficial situation. Those men respect me and my role. The dynamic is simple. And in my work I intentionally educate and inform men of the ways I see them acting or speaking in toxic or problematic ways. I reject and inform in a kind and fun way that I cannot do in real life. Online, at work, the dynamic with men is one I value and enjoy. So this part of my life I can throw myself into and spend all that real life man energy on. Interacting with men like this is actually choosing me. I get to be fully freely, happily, confidently me in that environment, and build my business and grow my income. But that is where my interaction with men will end. At work.

In real life, I will be saying No, assertively, in all situations involving men for a while. I dont want a random chat in the grocery store, I dont want to offer support in AA, I dont want to use dating apps, I dont want to fuck, I dont want a relationship, I dont want a male friend, I dont want to do activities, I dont want you to exist in my world, at all. I dont need men. Men universally let women down. They dont show up, they take advantage, they abuse, harrass, rape, ignore, fight, push boundaries and generally are out for what they can get of me. They do not add to my life. They steal my light and leave me broken on the floor.

Men don’t bring me any light or positivity. So for now I am off men. Its over. For now, I’m choosing me.

Edit to add: As I posted this I got a call, from my mechanic……asking to fucking camp with me this weeknend. YES. ALL MEN.

I’m done with being harassed in public. Take note.

By SkySmith

On July 11, 2018

In Harrasment

One of the most affirming situations I’ve been in recently has been my mom seeing and confirming how intense the amount of men and the situations they hit on me in are.

One stand out interaction was in Lowes. I was wearing old dirty, torn clothes. My hair was up and greasy and I had no make up on. I had a notebook and was working out what sizes of wood I needed to build my kitchen. When a man heard me speak. He lingered around us for a while with his friend till he started up a conversation about my accent. The “in” for all men here. He asked about my project. And then offered me the use of his work space in exchange for a date with me. My mom played offended and asked if she was invited. He said yes, if it meant he could have a date with her daughter. She was shocked at his thirst. He was older than me and definitely not my type. And I was not out looking for dates in Lowes. I said no but thanks for the offer. There was an attempt to convince me, like a woman doesn’t know her own mind. And eventually we carried on with our trip around Lowes.

This was one of MANY MANY interactions over the 4 months that left my mom feeling ignored and overlooked and me feeling as harassed and unable to go out in public quietly and safely as ever. I had told her before about what it’s like here for me. Especially when I was living in Vegas. If i stepped out the house I had to accept that at least 5 men would hit on me, cat call me or ask for my number after a short interaction, every time. I understand that happening in Vegas. But I wasn’t prepared for it happening everywhere. And I definitely wasn’t prepared for it happening in front of my mother. At first she was a bit jealous. But over time she began to understand my situation and now fully sees the reality of being me out in the world. She said she has NEVER in her life dealt with anything like what I do on a daily basis. She didn’t know it was like that. And now she does, she fully supports me when I need to talk about the problems I face just from men wanting me.

I can have a wonderful conversation with a stranger about mental health and the wilderness and it gets ended with, “I’d really like to see you again, you’re a beautiful woman, you’re so sexy, I like you”. I can’t go out and do anything without having to interact. I might want to go to the coffee shop, or hot springs, or on a hike, or go to the store, just to do the thing I want to do. But I can’t. I am always open to approach. And I never know when it coming. No situation is too inappropriate, no lack of make up, messy clothes, or even my fucking mother present, will stop strangers from approaching me and telling me they want me. I can’t even start about this happening online. That’s a whole other bag of shit for another day. But to have someone else see my reality has helped me a lot.

I still have no idea what it’s like to be another woman around my age and looks in this country as I don’t have enough (barely any) female friends here. I see well put together or hot women and wonder if they deal with this shit day in, day out too. There has got to be other women suffering and others even worse than me. But I haven’t started polling strangers…yet. I know as I’m alone a lot I get more stranger interaction and attention than if I was with a group or a friend. But being alone isn’t a automatic invitation for company. I do LOVE talking to strangers in public. But I do not like having to reject people all day. I will happily talk to any man who is pleasant and polite. We might talk for hours, about personal things. But this is NOT an automatic transfer into going on a date, sleeping with him or even just meeting up again. Random moments with strangers can be amazing. And I hate them getting tarnished every time by a man taking it the wrong way or even just interacting in the first place because they are sexually attracted to me. I can’t date or fuck every single person who talks to me or sees me across the street on a daily basis. And I don’t want to. I don’t want to have to take on and negotiate the desires of every person who wants me. Why can’t they just keep it to themselves? Take the good moment and move on. See me in the street and not say something. Drive past and think “phwarrr”, but don’t lean out the window and tell me. No man is gonna be the exception to the rule. No man is not going to disappoint me when they turn a nice connection and conversation into something sexual or wanting. Even if they are a 10. Being alive and in public isn’t a automatic sign that I’m here to be hit on or that being single means I’m available.

15 years ago I made a piece of art about owning the compliments that construction workers threw out from 4 floors up on some scaffolding, or out of a white van or on the building site at my university. I would write what they said and pin the paper to my studio wall. I didn’t understand the girls who were offended. I thought it was more empowering to own what they said than be offended by it. 15 years later, it’s gotten VERY old.

I’m not gonna start lying about my marital status or who I am when I talk to people. But after another affirming conversation with my mom I have decided it’s time to stop being polite and start saying NO. And that is a whole other bag of shit, how men react to a no. They try to negotiate with you, get offended or turn on you. So a polite exchange of numbers is a easier exchange and end than having a stranger haggle with you and coercing you over access to your time and body. But if I don’t start telling them I’m just not interested and the conversation was enough, they will never learn. Cause obviously no one has told them it doesn’t work.

I don’t have an answer to all of this right now. But I’m sick of holding it inside in case people think I’m too full of myself for saying I get hit on too much. Well to those people…spend a few months with me, and you will see, it’s not me thinking I’m ace that has got me to this point. It’s the relentless day in, day out evidence, 20 years of being sexually approachable, and being a open, friendly, different person that has brought me to a point of maddening frustration of this situation that has now been confirmed by a third party and affirmed my need to speak out.

Everyday Rape

By SkySmith

On July 6, 2018

In Harrasment, Sexual Inequality, Talking About Sex

This is a story i need to get off my chest. It starts well. But this blog is about sexual reality, not just a bunch of stories for random men to jack off to. This whole situation has made me incredibly angry. I don’t want to work. I dont want to be nice. And i certainly dont want to make more gross men cum.

It happened with a giant cock. The first time we met was in the bus. It was late. We couldn’t move around much and had to be sneaky. He couldn’t hurt me with his giant dick. It was quite fun. It was exciting to have such a fat dick to try out and play with. The second time was at his apartment. He has two annoying dogs. I hate dogs. I don’t really remember the details that much. We ate indian food which was good. And obviously I didn’t “split the bill”, women who do that ruin the world for the ones who believe in chivalry or actually have more to offer than most men thus deserve to be paid for. The sex was good. I didn’t want to stop playing with it, but it did hurt a lot. We kept having to stop, change positions, etc. I had my toys with me and i got to cum around that fat dick a lot. I would cum just when it slid in me. Even in the morning we had a bit more sex. We had a good time. I was meant to be leaving town that day. But i decided to get some new tires so i had to stay two more nights to wait to get them fitted and delivered.

I took the next night to myself out at my spot outside Vegas. But i thought it would be a good idea to have some more sex before i left town, incase I wouldn’t get any for a while. I never really see anyone more than once. When i do, they start to annoy me, the sex isn’t ever as good, it can actually become kinda awkward and less fun, i start to notice parts of their personality i don’t like and i become more true to myself, rather than just being fun and easy-going. I often am not around long enough to see people more than once or we just kind of ghost each other after the first or second time. I am not after a relationship or even finding connections to people. Been there done that, definitely dont need it.

So this was the fateful third meeting with the giant dick. I can call people out on pretty deep and personal parts of their personality very quickly and easily. And i had sensed a darkness within this boy. He revealed i was right and had quite an angry and violent past. I could sense he wasnt as authentic as he made out and that he was covering up large parts of himself to seem nice to me. His dogs annoyed me again.

I can’t remember if we had normal sex first or if the shit storm happened right away. I think it was during out second sex, because I had gotten really sore already. It took me two days to recover from the last meeting. And i got sore very quickly. I know my body. I know my vagina. I am a PROFESSIONAL at sex. Yet men think they know better than me when it comes to how to fuck.

Because his dick was so big I needed him to fuck me slowly and deep, rather than long or fast strokes. I made this clear EVERY time we had sex. Occasionally speeding up felt good but I couldn’t take it very long. This time i wanted to cum before we finished. I was tired and i wanted to go to sleep. I had a long drive the next day. And my pussy was hurting a lot.

I was lying face down with him straddling my legs and his cock inside me. I needed him to keep it fairly still and let me slide up and down it and grind on it in a way that didn’t hurt me and would make me cum. But every single time I started to enjoy it, he would speed up and start just fucking me. I would push back on him and tell him to stop, that it was hurting and that I couldn’t do that. He stopped again and let me take over. And again as i was enjoying it, he sped up and just started fucking me. Again i told him to stop. He was hurting me, it didn’t feel good and he was ruining it for me. Again he apologised and said he would let me do my thing. And AGAIN he couldn’t keep any fucking control of his fat annoying ass and started pumping at me. I was getting pretty angry by this point and when he started speeding up AGAIN, i freaked the fuck out. I pushed up and used my body to get him off me and get out from under him while telling him to get the fuck off me. I was saying “No no no i can’t do this, get the fuck off me, how the fuck can’t you do the ONE thing im asking you to do? You keep hurting me, I cant do this, its fucking gross.” He started apologizing and immediately made it worse….

“I’m sorry…i cant control myself.”

That was it. I was so done. However. I am a woman. And I don’t want to cause problems with a random man, in his house, with a self admitted history of violence. I apologised saying i was very sensitive to this kind of shit. And i stayed and went to sleep at his. In the morning it was awkward and i wanted to leave as early as i can. I stayed polite. But i did not feel polite.

In the hours and days since this, i have gotten increasingly angry and disgusted at his behaviors and at myself for letting it happen to me. Yes i stopped it. But i was fucking someone who “couldn’t control themselves” with a women, when his dick was so big it would hurt anyone. The more i dwelled on it, the more i could see it in all our interactions from the start. He was pushy and domineering but as a boy who is 7 years younger than me, it just made me think he was an idiot. Like dude, you may think you know shit, but you’re 27. You don’t know shit. And clearly he has no idea how to treat a woman.

I am so put off by all sex as now i see how deeply one-sided it is. I have 20 years and hundreds of men, and years of professional service under my belt. But when i fuck ANY guy, it’s a pre decided order of life that they control how we fuck. Because it is their dick inside me, its down to them to choose how that goes. But it doesn’t have to be that way. Why is it assumed that men know how best to fuck? Why do men get to pump at any rate they see fit? Why do they never let a woman with 10-100 times more experience than them, take the lead? Why do no men LISTEN to a woman when their dick is hard? It’s so fucking gross. I feel so fucking violated. And now I don’t want to give any man the keys to my body. They do not respect my specific sexuality.

The only sex i really enjoy is paid sex. These men understand the dynamic. They understand they are seeing a professional. They treat me with respect and give me the power, the control. They don’t need to micro manage me. Do normal men walk into kitchens at restaurants and tell the chef how to cook their food? Because that is what they are doing to me, every time i fuck a man who doesn’t give me the control.

As a woman, i am just a hole for a man to use how it feels best for his dick. He might be doing things he thinks is good for the woman….but guess what…WE KNOW BEST about what feels good for us and often, anything you do, isn’t what we want. But there is no precedent for men to lie back and let a woman use their body for their pleasure.

One of the reasons i like sucking dick is cause i make them just lie there, not touch my head, not thrust, not do anything. Just lie there and let me enjoy playing with their dick as my own toy. I get weird with it. I’m not trying to suck it in a way that feels good to them, im doing what i want with my mouth and hands. As soon as they ask something or move in a way to hint at me doing something or try to control the situation, I feel sick. I want to stop.

Why cant men let us enjoy using their tool as WE see fit? We have played with our vaginas our whole life’s, but you think you can make it feel good by poking us with your random pole? No. We know best. Stop fucking how you want. And start letting the woman show you how to treat her vagina. We aren’t passive objects to be pleasured. And a grown ass fucking man should easily be able to “control himself” around us. There are self-aware, strong women who know what they want out there, so I suggest you start listening to us. I don’t need to feel like im getting raped ever again.

Ps. I don’t need to hear he is a douche or any sympathy. He is no exception. He is no different to MOST men. I do not need to hear it. This is normal day-to-day life as a sexual woman. I am just exposing it.

DM DM: Post Sex Reminiscing

By SkySmith

On December 15, 2017

In Harrasment, Talking About Sex

I’m getting really over talking to men I have had sex with and have no plan of ever seeing again. They don’t seem to go away. Some are fantastic. We fuck, we bond, I leave, and I never hear from him again. I am so rarely in the same place twice and if I am I want new experiences. Most people don’t warrant a follow up visit and are no way high enough in my priorities to go out my way to see them. So why do I have to keep speaking to them? I entertain the memories they have of us fucking and feed their egos by engaging with them. But I don’t reminisce to my past partners. I don’t have anyone I want to message and tell them it was the best Sex of my life and talk about it. I don’t care what number 73, 321 or 250 is doing in life. We had our moment. And I have no plan of seeing most of them again. I admit there are a few I’ve particularly enjoyed and would see again. But I’d hold of messaging them till I could tell them I was coming in to town!

I think a large part of it is my aversion to messaging. I hate the instant messaging culture. People can just jump in your life, whenever they want, where ever you are, what ever you are doing. I don’t want to talk to them right now. I want to reply in my own damn time. But, with so many people messaging all the time now and expecting immediate responses, as soon as I put them off it snowballs into a pile of messages I just don’t even want to acknowledge. I really miss spending days, yes, 3-4 days, writing a text and deciding for the perfect time to send it. Down to the minute. You couldn’t reply straight away. That would seem sad and desperate. I’d pick random times, like 2:37pm so it didn’t look like I planned to message someone at 2:35pm exactly, even though I had planned it all. That was 17 years ago. I liked instant messaging for a while. I kept up. I wanted replies immediately. Facebook messaging changed my life for a while. I was living a very social life at the time working in the music industry in London. And it seemed that every man, single, or not, knew I was good at and enjoyed “cyber sexing”. That interest died off as a hobby as I turned it into my profession and no longer wanted to give all these dudes orgasms for free when hundreds of other men on the internet would pay for it. Around that time, I left England, and my enjoyment of the immediately expected and wanted reply has diminished to the point I am at today. I don’t even like receiving messages. I have to think of what to say, be polite and nice, spend time just sitting still doing nothing except giving attention to this fucking phone that I’m typing on now to write this, with the overwhelming awareness of how instant replies and the phone they access me on are irrevocably damaging society and is causing completely unnatural behaviors in humans.

I used to like social media and love instant messaging. I used to like having all my conquests as friends on Facebook and Instagram. I could see their lives every day in my news feeds. I didn’t need to message anyone. But since getting rid of social media on my phone I no longer give a fuck about what any of those people are doing. It’s irrelevant. They are gone. I would like to collect pictures of everyone I’ve fucked to put with the list to remember them. I did and do like the idea of mayyybe being able to speak to someone in the future if I wanted to. But in all the years I had that access to their lives I didn’t gain anything from it. I’m not better off for keeping the line of contact open. And any of them who wanted to reminisce about the Sex were just a DM away and hitting me up whenever they wanted to chat. I don’t know why I’ve entertained it for so long really. I think it’s 90% ego. Knowing there is always someone somewhere thinking about fucking me on any given day.

Several of the repeat reminisce offenders have girlfriends. And I still entertained them. Until this week. This one class A asshole, previously written about in my sex blog, got in touch…Again. We fucked a few times maybe 8 years ago. And over the past 8 years I haven’t seen him once. Yet he still messages me several times a year to tell me it was the best Sex of his life, he will never get Sex like it again, his girlfriend is rubbish at Sex, he is frustrated etc, etc, etc. He keeps his actual sexual interests secret cause he thinks people will think he is weird. He made me keep us a secret too. He cares so much about how he looks to other people, so he denies himself. I suggested he hook up with my girlfriend once and they swapped messages but never met. Even though they never met, he still messages her for sexting, until now! Her last message to him was a female golfer emoji hitting the aubergine emoji. We are both done with his pathetic, gross, cheating ass. So when he messaged me a few days later, I knew it was coming, I replied with what I’ve been wanting to say for a while now.

“I’m soooo sick of you messaging me saying how it was the best sex ever etc. it was 8 years ago. Get over it. If you message me this shit ever again I’m going to screenshot all your messages and post them on Facebook and tag your and your girlfriend. Fuck off.”

He didn’t reply. I am the lady golfer swinging and hitting the aubergine.

It is really hard to be myself as a woman who likes sex. If I’m nice it’s OK. But if I behave the way that is most authentic and real to me and what I really think and believe inside then I will be taken badly and considered bad. We are in the middle of a sexual harassment crisis for a reason. Men don’t know how to behave because women aren’t telling them because women are afraid of how men will react to honest sexuality, whether that persons sexuality be prudish or promiscuous. I really want to stick by my morals and interact with men in a way that will help them learn how to really act around different types of women, but I really don’t want to be seen as a heartless, ball busting, feminist, bitch, slut when people judge me by societal norms and preconceptions with which I do not concur. I’m constantly treading a fine line between what I want to do and say, and not damaging the ego of decent person. It’s easy if they are an asshole. But it’s harder when they aren’t really offensive, just persistent and annoying. Maybe dicks can only text message me from now on. They don’t get to message me on a easy access social media platform that crosses international cell service, or be connected on a site that makes them think I’m interested in their lives in any way. I have a great time with these people. And some of them are amazing humans. But. I’m not gonna see them again. I can’t collect them all. I think what I enjoy the most is loving them and letting them go. I want a good interaction, memory, event or adventure. I am not looking for more people to add to the list of people who I have to stay in touch with, replying to them when they pop into my life demanding instant attention and action. I have 4 people I will almost always reply to immediately or within a few hours, in the world. And sometimes it’s a push for me to talk to them. Maybe everyone else is replying to 50 different people an hour and keeping up with it. But I can’t do it. I don’t want to keep up any more. I just don’t care. I’m living my life in the real world. I don’t reminisce about dick via messaging with people from decades ago who are thousands of miles away. I go out and get new experiences and find new dick to add to the collection.

Another Day, Another Collection of Thoughts.

By SkySmith

On November 22, 2017

In Autobiography, Finding Sex, Harrasment

Day 10 on the sex drought. The last guy i rejected has cursed me. The failed date I drove to pick up and then just didnt like. I had such high hopes. And such blue balls. And I havent had a release since. Well Ive cum alot. Just only by my own hand. And that isnt what i need. I need some weird, kinky, extreme, exciting sex. I now have over 200-250 emails. And a offer from the cutest boy on my Tinder. But its STILL not happening. So I guess it is me now. Am I being picky? Ive emailed with a few of them, but nothing has progressed. When it works, it just works, with all the people i meet. Craigslist isnt helping me either. It cock blocked my last two posts about the specific kinks i want to explore right now. More specifically, soomeone now keeps flagging my posts and they keep getting removed, because apparently i cant be real, must be a scam or are violating their conditions by being really horny and wanting to get laid in a interesting and specific way. The upshot is, I still havent gotten laid. There is alot of comments I could make and conclusions i can draw from the kind of emails i have recieved over the past 48 hours, but i havent learnt anything I didnt already know. I am going to start compiling my thougths on things outside of my own life, like this, into essays. Just so i do it. Keep them for myself. i have started a list of topics i already have ideas for.

Ok I have just solved my own sexual frustration problem. Im going to a sex club in San Fran tonight. Alone. Fuck it. I need to be around this stuff.

And i already have changed my mind. Thank you again google and yelp for reviews! There is such a massive gap for a space where people can openly share their sexual desires and connect and act them out. Like one of those kids play warehouses things, but for adults, and not gross. Maybe I will just go. Its only $10. If i go at like midnight there should be people there. I’ll see how I feel. And I can check it out. But then I am in San Fran. But then I am in San Fran! Find a parking spot for the holiday weekend? Good sex? More people not less though.

I had a bath in the bus last night. I boiled some water and just used the sink. I exfoliated my whole body and used soap! it was a revelation. 5 months in and i have never had a hot sponge bath in the bus! Some ideas come to me too easily, some, im a little slow!

I had a hilarious walk yesterday. I was deep in thought about my sexual freedom and all the positives of being a strong, sexual woman, how excited i was to be incorporating that into my life again, when a lean, grey haired man in his 50s, came towards me on a road bike, in full gear, at speed. As he drove past he broke my reverie by calling out “ohh look at that. what a hottie. phew” with a sharp intake of breath. After the shock, the realization of the juxtaposition of the thoughts i was having and the experience my body was having in the world at the same time hit me…and i nearly died laughing. It came out of nowhere. He seemed so professional and was definitely of comfortable means. And he sounded so old fashioned. Then a few minutes later a man in his 60s called after me that i had very “psychedelic” pants on. Drawing my attention to the fact that he was watching me and my legs from behind while i walked away. These kind of daily interactions rub up against my belief of being able to be a liberated, sexual woman. It stops me dressing how i want, saying what i want and even walking with the gait i would like. But it will not stop me wanting to be able to use my body how i choose without judgment or unwanted attention.