My Secret Lesbian Crush

With all the horrible “Breaking Stories” these days, I find myself wanting to focus on the magical aspects of life. It has been too long since I have truly felt the magic of romance in my life. I try to always have a secret crush, just to keep my heart beating and hopeful. My previous crush just moved away though and we barely talk because she is in the mountains and barely gets phone reception. Plus, she’s straight and married which makes the crush a lot less hopeful, which is the purpose of such fantasies. So, I guess I need to find a new love interest to dream about, to send my thoughts to in earnest.

Since I work from home, it is harder to find that woman of my dreams. I don’t have a lot of contact with other people. I think I need to find a couple of groups so I don’t go stir crazy. Social media can only go so far to connect you with others. Most of my Facebook friends are couples or singles that live far away. I prefer that my crush is someone I can have lunch with and actually see in person. Believe me, I know how creepy this sounds. I guess I’m not quite ready to look for love in earnest, so a crush is perfect for me now, as a newly single lesbian still recovering from a 7 year relationship.

A crush provides the one thing in life that always seems to keep me going. If I don’t have something to look forward to, then I can get depressed. Little does the sweet woman know, that she keeps me from falling apart.

Nobody ever realizes how a genuine smile can truly make another  person’s day. It’s weird, but I have been on the other side of the crush, and even when I don’t feel any chemistry, I still enjoy the attention and company. Plus, I am always super sweet to all women, without leading them on. I suspect that an innocent crush is a common coping mechanism for many of us.

Carpe your next crush with wild abandon.

Wordy Grl

 

 

 

 

 

Missing Xena

The mention of the name Xena brings me back to a simpler time, before mass shootings and terrorism were a way of life in this country. Granted, I knew bad things happened in faraway places before 9/11. I had the decency to recognize that fact and feel terrible about it, without the horror of it staying in my head all the time like some barely audible electronic hum that continues to irritate you for years with no relief in sight.

Our culture seems more focused on the horror of these things than on contemplating the cause and admitting our own hand in those broken relationships that breed such contempt and violence. If peace and love beget peace and love, then we must decide where the breakdown is and own our part in it, taking steps to build bridges instead of walls. I know…I have turned to clichés for my argument. But, in my defense, sometimes clichés hold nuggets of truth. Please, somebody stop me before I get stuck in this mode.

What was exciting about Xena Warrior Princess and her world was that the good guys and bad guys were so recognizable. These days I feel like life has become so gray that I believe that people in this country are having a difficult time distinguishing the good guys from the bad guys. As I watch the presidential election and see Trump running as President, I have to wonder if a large segment of our society has truly lost their mind.

Hillary does not make me feel much better. While I generally give women more of my attention, expecting them to be the voice of compassion and practicality, I am left distrusting her. With Clinton’s obvious connections to Wall Street and her absolute arrogance as it relates to her irresponsible handling of emails and her lack of passion to make any real change, I don’t view Hillary as one of the good guys either. I see her as the lesser of two evils, but a sellout just the same.

The problem is, I grew up watching TV and going to the movies as my favorite way to unwind and escape. As a lesbian, it is probably no surprise to anyone, that Xena stood out as my favorite “all-time” fighter of evil. I miss that clarity. Label me nostalgic, but I long for a hero or heroine that stands  outside of the political fray brandishing a sword, or maybe a book to take down the evil doers. (I know – nerd alert)

Xena and Gabrielle live large in my mind as what I like best about women and life in general. We all need a complement, to soften us or toughen us up as we move about in the world. Depending on the day, I can fall on either side of that equation. I have been lucky enough to spend time with a few Xenas and Gabrielle-types myself. The best women I know embody strength and sweetness wrapped up in stylish thick glasses and intellectual wit.

I know I have wandered all over the place in this blog. Thank God nobody is grading me on sticking with my title or supporting my arguments with clear statements to back up my suppositions. It is no surprise that I love poetry too. The less structure the better. Academics beware.

I’ll stop whining now like an old geezer who wants easier choices. Can’t we simply ask the good guys to wear white and the bad guys to wear black so we know what to expect. It would be so helpful.

Carpe the next Xena when she shows up in your life.

Wordy Grl

Why Her

As I try to decide on the type of woman I want to spend my life with, it seems that words fail me as I consider the women from my past who have taken up residence in my heart. Oddly enough, they were all so different that I am left clueless about how to describe the common denominator present in my chosen love interests. Why am I surprised? Falling in love isn’t like ordering a woman from the catalog. While the dating sites do make me feel like that at times, chemistry is certainly an elusive concept.

There is a basic sense of decency in a woman, a sweetness, that always captures my heart. While women my age are hardly innocent anymore, I enjoy women who laugh easily and still have a sense of wonder and excitement about the world. I rejoice in that type of joy.

As obvious as this may sound, I like women who are confident sexually without being slutty. Believe me, I know how that last sentence sounds, and expect to get some smart remarks about double standards, etc… I am always amazed by how political correctness has seeped into something as primal as our personal taste, often rendering us guilty about primal urges.

Let’s face it, the ultimate aphrodisiac is always a woman’s interest in what I have to say. Don’t get me wrong, I am a good listener. I equally enjoy listening to what she has to say too, especially when she’s talking about her passion in life.

Carpe the sweet ones, the smart girls who grace you with their enthusiasm for life and listen to what you have to say like they truly care.

A Wordy Grl

Lesbian Sparks Start Warm Fires

When it happens, there is no doubt in your mind. You meet her and she gets your jokes and makes an effort to understand your words that paint a picture of your journey. Her lips speak poetry and her body floats on waters blue that sparkle bright with seductive promises. The Universe has sent you a gift to be treasured. Now it’s up to you to figure out how to honor this precious offering.

The beginning is easy. All those firsts are the stuff of movies; the first date, the first kiss and the first sleepover. What’s not to like, right? There are people who spend their lives in relationships experiencing firsts, only to throw the union away when it gets too hard, after all the firsts become seconds and thirds and routines replace sparks, and often degenerate into ruts.

I’m not pointing fingers. I am guilty of digging in and bricking up my own version of rut living, somehow justifying my boredom as grownup living. My mother’s words float around in my head, haunting me as the worst possible scenarios that could happen…”You’re dreaming. You need to settle down and find a nice man to take care of you before you get too old. Life isn’t about having fun. You should get a steady job with benefits, instead of always chasing some pie in the sky dream. A woman will never commit to you like a man will.” On bad days, I actually consider her words and doubt my resolve to live an authentic life that is out of step with what most people consider a “normal” way to exist.

All my doubts disappear with one spark from a lesbian connection. Now, that’s power. Even in this hot summer weather, I still long for the heat from a lesbian spark. Nothing breathes life into my bones like the recognition I see in “her” eyes. I want to crawl in her skin and breathe in her essence, swaying with the rhythm of her gait while dancing to the beat of her heart.

Carpe romance when it appears at your door.

Word Grl

 

 

 

Permission to Wallow in Self-Indulgence Granted

Self-indulgence is really all we have that is all our own. The term has gotten a bad rap, compelling us to almost always apologize for it, or worse; feel guilty about it. This blog represents my favorite compulsion. If you don’t like it, don’t read it. That’s what I love about writing. Only the followers who feel a connection will continue reading, right? How perfect is that arrangement. As dynamics in relationships are evaluated, it’s hard to find a better set-up.

Little girls keep diaries with tiny metal keys to keep their siblings from reading their most private thoughts about their hopes and dreams. Big girls create blog entries late at night when they finally settle down enough from the day to be honest with themselves. I am trying to break my “people pleaser” tendencies that interfere with my ability to truly be honest about who I am underneath my need to be liked and accepted. Finally, I want to live an authentic life that makes sense to me, even if others don’t agree or approve.

I am in search of my tribe. Writers and people who like to connect on a deeper level, who like to study life; those are the human beings I enjoy being around. Philosophy majors are my favorite. Who cares how marketable their skills are? Not me. People who collect stuff as a way to fill up their time bore me to tears. Capitalism is exploitive at its core and needs to be reconsidered if we ever want to live in harmony instead of as a world divided.

As a newly single lesbian, I am having some exciting thoughts about how I want to live. I think I need two homes, or at least a main home and a getaway to escape the extreme weather that I hate. While I love Atlanta in the spring and fall, I hate it in the winter and summer. I love the beach during off seasons, when all the tourists all long gone and you can walk the beach in relative peace accompanied by the seagulls and the sound of the waves greeting you at the shore.

Somebody might threaten to take away my lesbian card over this next proclamation, but hey, that’s okay. I never want more than two pets ever again. After living in a zoo for 7 years, I truly appreciate the limits of my patience relative to dog walking, kitty litter and all things related to the loud noise of multiple dogs barking at once. I love animals, but I believe being outnumbered by more than one is asking for more aggravation than I am willing to manage.

For the first time in my life, I am very open to having a deep relationship with a woman without living with her. That does not mean that I would never consider cohabitation with a woman I adore, but if she is a slob, has a bunch of pets or is a control freak, I don’t want to live with her. Who could blame me?

I have heard you should never say never, but what can I say, I’m a rebel at heart. l will never move in with anyone until I have known them a full year, have taken a long vacation with them and have met their relatives. We also must have at least three good fights, to see how well we handle disagreements. Some lesbians don’t fight fair. I will not ever again do mean. Why should I? Why does anybody?

I have given up on wanting or needing to please others. That does not mean that I will not serve others in the ways I can. I know how important it is to connect with people and to help out. As far as I can tell, being of service to others may be our single most important reason for being on the planet. But I will no longer try to change who I am at my core to be accepted by anyone else.

Until next time, embrace the life you want. Don’t settle for somebody else’s version of what your life should be. Be true to yourself. You are already good enough and deserve all good things.

Carpe Diem

Wordy Grl

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When the Kissing Stops, “Check Please”

When in doubt, I write. It’s easier than talking and choking on my words. I can send this out to the universe and the right person will read it. Like a note cast out in a glass bottle into the cyber ocean filled with lost souls trying to reach out to one another, I can sleep tonight believing that somebody will find my message and I will no longer be alone with my thoughts, unheard and uncelebrated.

It’s a leap of faith, for sure. It is easier to share with total strangers than burden friends with my many words.  The word verbose comes to mind. But, I am not without hope now, which is an improvement over where I was mentally before the breakup.

I have been lonely for a long time now. I broke up with my girlfriend 2 months ago, but I had been lonely for years before the end. She stopped caring and then I stopped trying, so the breakup was simply a formality. The odd thing is I still miss her in some twisted, dysfunctional way.  As weird as that sounds, it’s true. Some of the rhythms we had as a couple were comforting. Now, I am making up new rituals and finding my own way, and it’s lonely, but it’s authentic.

The fight we had before we finally broke up, she told me she didn’t love me anymore. The next morning she begged me to stay. I could not run away fast enough. While she was at work, I packed up everything I could in my Toyota Celica and drove 500 miles to Atlanta, my hometown. She’s in Florida, a place I thought I would love after moving there only months earlier with her. It will be a long time before I go to Florida again.

In true lesbian fashion, there was drama at the end. It’s funny how relationships tend to both start and end with drama, or at least mine do. Inches from my face, she screamed….”Get out.” I had forgiven her so many other times when she screamed or yelled, insulting me or complaining about this or that, but I finally got to that point where I could no longer see any love in her eyes, or feel any warmth in her touch, and I knew there was no going back.

I deserve better. I told her several times that “I don’t do mean.” Apparently, she was not listening. A part of me believes that she didn’t believe she deserved me or anybody for that matter. There was a power struggle always. Friends thought we’d get back together, but I knew we never would. I could not remember the last time we had kissed, besides a lifeless peck not worthy of the beautiful sentiment expected in such a sweet gesture.

I love women. I keep trying. Evidently, I am not terribly good at relationships. I have many stories to tell and have been fortunate enough to love many wonderful lesbians. If you lined up all the woman I have loved, it would be hard to understand “my type.”

My lineup of lovers includes tall, short, white, black, younger, older, Christian, Pagan, Jewish, heavy and skinny women. About all they have in common is me. The funny thing is I loved them all with everything I had. Unforeseen things always happened and the love never seemed to be enough in the end.

I am not quite ready to hop on the dating sites. I started to, then I didn’t pay, so I am waiting for something. A sign maybe. For the first time in my life, I feel a bit frightened by the process. I am no longer the fearless, confident woman I was. Something has shifted. People who know me would not believe me if they heard me say that.

Everybody meets online these days. But, I guess I want something more romantic, an organic love affair borne of physical chemistry and a mental connection shared over time, instead of puked out on a dating site like a resume meant to attract attention. Granted, online dating offers expediency, but there is something to be said for seeing her across the room and finding a way to meet her, watching her until you finally have the chance to speak to her.

Until we meet again. Sweet dreams. If I’m lucky, I’ll see you there.

Carpe the wet kiss!

A Wordy Grl