in the fifth elephant, Angua tells Carrot the wolves don't trust her. he's surprised, he assumes they see her as a wolf. she explains that she can pass for a human among humans, or as a wolf among humans, but not with wolves. she looks like a human, or she looks like a wolf, but she always smells like a werewolf.
I am a werewolf.
I mention my girlfriend, and straight people see a gay wolf, draped in rainbows & howling at the moon.
...or I don't say anything. I'm femme, or sometimes too lazy to have a style, but never butch. I only look queer if you really know what you're looking for. so, they see a straight human.
I am werewolf. hear me howl.
I'm never gay enough for the wolves, though. at a gay club or at pride, it's "are you a real lesbian?" (no. not a fake one either. HOWOOOOO!) or "what the fuck is that?" (you what?! I'm not a "that". I'm not much of a "fuck" either...).
...or maybe I come out as Autistic. that one's more subtle. allistics generally refuse to see that one while I'm holding it together. I'm in allistic human form, until I'm not. then I'm all wolf, incapable of understanding, dangerous to myself and others.
I haven't found my place in that wolf pack either. I try, but every group has the same thing. a few days after I find that facebook group that I hoped would fit, there is some dude who wants a girlfriend but has no idea that she is not a trophy. she's a Real Human Being (or wolf. or werewolf.) who wants to develop a reciprocal relationship. his moaning about everyone he's ever met being "ablest" by refusing to give him a chance? that's showing her she can't get that here so she moves on. even worse, the "how DARE you call it a disability!?" crowd. what, you don't want to talk about the difficult parts? you want to throw away the meagre support available to us? and you want to shut down all conversations on that because you're offended by the word "disability"? wow. a few more like that and I move on. this isn't the place for the big conversations. I can't crowdsource coping strategies for executive functioning, or build a realistic plan for the future in this cesspit.
so I run with the werewolves. neurodivergent purple werewolves under glittering stars. I am werewolf, hear me howl.
Tuesday, 14 November 2017
Tuesday, 15 August 2017
doing it on the kitchen table.
...or not.
I'm a bad asexual. I fuck.
when explaining to muggles why I do this, I ask them to imagine mashed potatoes. I quite like mashed potatoes, but there are other carbohydrates that are less faff to prepare that I prefer. living alone, I'd never bother with mashed potatoes, but if someone I love is really into them? sure, they're tasty and I want you to be happy.
sex is like that. oh, you'll get enthusiastic consent if I love you the right way, and it's good fun, but I don't crave it the way you seem to.
I think maybe the food & sex thing goes further...
....I'm never going to make pinterest-worthy cupcakes. I admire themed party food, but if I made all that I'd want to hide before the guests arrived. an elegant 3 course dinner party isn't going to happen.
because I just don't have that sort of bandwidth. I'll bake, make the kitchen be in a state that is not The Flour-pocalypse Was Here and collapse on the sofa. then I'll try to convince you (or, more realistically, myself) that Wonky Cakes Taste Better and Icing Is Overrated Anyway because in that moment nothing is less appealing than making them look pretty.
I recently read a blogpost on squirting, and had the opportunity to try a tantric exercise. like the exquisitely presented cauldron cakes & home made butter beer, I like that these things exist, but probably shouldn't try to emulate them. they won't look like the pictures and I'll just end up sticky and disappointed. I just don't care enough about having The Most AMAZING orgasms or cooking enough to put in the work, panic, fail, calm down, reassure everyone else and try again. it's not worth it and that's OK.
I'm a bad asexual. I fuck.
when explaining to muggles why I do this, I ask them to imagine mashed potatoes. I quite like mashed potatoes, but there are other carbohydrates that are less faff to prepare that I prefer. living alone, I'd never bother with mashed potatoes, but if someone I love is really into them? sure, they're tasty and I want you to be happy.
sex is like that. oh, you'll get enthusiastic consent if I love you the right way, and it's good fun, but I don't crave it the way you seem to.
I think maybe the food & sex thing goes further...
....I'm never going to make pinterest-worthy cupcakes. I admire themed party food, but if I made all that I'd want to hide before the guests arrived. an elegant 3 course dinner party isn't going to happen.
because I just don't have that sort of bandwidth. I'll bake, make the kitchen be in a state that is not The Flour-pocalypse Was Here and collapse on the sofa. then I'll try to convince you (or, more realistically, myself) that Wonky Cakes Taste Better and Icing Is Overrated Anyway because in that moment nothing is less appealing than making them look pretty.
I recently read a blogpost on squirting, and had the opportunity to try a tantric exercise. like the exquisitely presented cauldron cakes & home made butter beer, I like that these things exist, but probably shouldn't try to emulate them. they won't look like the pictures and I'll just end up sticky and disappointed. I just don't care enough about having The Most AMAZING orgasms or cooking enough to put in the work, panic, fail, calm down, reassure everyone else and try again. it's not worth it and that's OK.
Monday, 14 August 2017
what I learned at BiCon
- Friday was the day of cat herding. Saturday was the day of rope. rope is more fun than cat herding.
- Sunday was the barefoot day. when you have blisters and your feet are telling you "for the love of clean socks, stop moving!" you probably shouldn't keep dancing.
- I don't regret dancing anyway.
- 6 people across 2 flats is too much cat herding for dinner. foods that can be cooked separately next year (tomato & chorizo pasta? cheesy jacket potato? what else?)
- snack box is genius. always use snack box.
- pack.less.stuff. I miss my early BiCons, where I'd turn up with my (admittedly high-density packed) little red rucksack and a handbag. leave Thud at home and ignore the clothes swaps.
- I'm maybe-not-useless on BiCon teams. someone else on the team that year said I was good *at* BiCon, even if I was more of a liability than an asset before the event (my words, not hers). I trust people I was on the team with far more than my metamor. I love them, but know they'll take my side, right or wrong, especially when I won't.
- group travel is more intense than solo travel. not better or worse, just more intense.
- there won't be much time for sex.
- tantric exercises + my brain = bad. don't do that again without a lot of research first. if I was choosing again, I'd go to the mixed orientation session at that time. ironically, I've never felt more like I was in a mixed orientation relationship than I did then.
- the Irish queer community is apparently the size of a small village. I "found" an Irish guy, and was excited to introduce him to my girlfriend. he was not a new Irish guy. oops.
- he thought it was funny, so no harm done(?)
- not all of the decorative hip harnesses on youtube can stand up to my dancing style.
- based on leftovers, flat 3 like mocha cookies more than mint choc chip cookies. they have a point.
in conclusion, I'm making progress on the Self Care at BiCon Thing. my only wobbles were the tantric session (unavoidable, previously unknown issue), blisters (take plasters next time) and dinner time cat herding. I've solved half the food issue and have thoughts on dinner. as I progress towards being an old timer (this was UK BiCon number 7 for me) I don't want to go to every session on the timetable, even if I do still want to go to one in most time slots.
- Sunday was the barefoot day. when you have blisters and your feet are telling you "for the love of clean socks, stop moving!" you probably shouldn't keep dancing.
- I don't regret dancing anyway.
- 6 people across 2 flats is too much cat herding for dinner. foods that can be cooked separately next year (tomato & chorizo pasta? cheesy jacket potato? what else?)
- snack box is genius. always use snack box.
- pack.less.stuff. I miss my early BiCons, where I'd turn up with my (admittedly high-density packed) little red rucksack and a handbag. leave Thud at home and ignore the clothes swaps.
- I'm maybe-not-useless on BiCon teams. someone else on the team that year said I was good *at* BiCon, even if I was more of a liability than an asset before the event (my words, not hers). I trust people I was on the team with far more than my metamor. I love them, but know they'll take my side, right or wrong, especially when I won't.
- group travel is more intense than solo travel. not better or worse, just more intense.
- there won't be much time for sex.
- tantric exercises + my brain = bad. don't do that again without a lot of research first. if I was choosing again, I'd go to the mixed orientation session at that time. ironically, I've never felt more like I was in a mixed orientation relationship than I did then.
- the Irish queer community is apparently the size of a small village. I "found" an Irish guy, and was excited to introduce him to my girlfriend. he was not a new Irish guy. oops.
- he thought it was funny, so no harm done(?)
- not all of the decorative hip harnesses on youtube can stand up to my dancing style.
- based on leftovers, flat 3 like mocha cookies more than mint choc chip cookies. they have a point.
in conclusion, I'm making progress on the Self Care at BiCon Thing. my only wobbles were the tantric session (unavoidable, previously unknown issue), blisters (take plasters next time) and dinner time cat herding. I've solved half the food issue and have thoughts on dinner. as I progress towards being an old timer (this was UK BiCon number 7 for me) I don't want to go to every session on the timetable, even if I do still want to go to one in most time slots.
Monday, 20 March 2017
"it's complicated"
if I ever describe my relationship outside of queer circles, I'm told it sounds "complicated". like somehow monogamy is simple and obvious. like my girlfriend doesn't have a hand for each of us to hold. like monogamous couples never have to schedule dates around work or doctors appointments or seeing friends. like my metamor is somehow more work than a pet, a child, a long term illness, moving house...
no, poly isn't the complicated part. learning and unlearning what it means to be human is complicated. what do I mean by that word, and what do you hear when I say it? how do we know, and how do we bridge the gap when we find it? does her non-verbal look like ours?
sex. sex. sex. you think who's fucking who is complicated? nah, you've forgotten the how. what do you mean by "sex drive"? it's entirely situational. wait, yours isn't? oh, no, I'm asexual, not sex repulsed. they don't always go together. does this feel good? ah, you're loosing words. you still OK? squeeze my hand. great. ooh, can we try that? mmmn, yes! harder!
our relationship could be summed up by the words "what time is it? fuck! how?". divergent brains so wrapped up in love that we stop time. the world turns around us, but we stay still. hours dissolve into sparkling moments. it feels like bed time.
why is it a numbers game for you? really, the number of people involved is such a small part of why we need to work at our relationship. we might not even think about it if you didn't keep telling us it was "complicated".
no, poly isn't the complicated part. learning and unlearning what it means to be human is complicated. what do I mean by that word, and what do you hear when I say it? how do we know, and how do we bridge the gap when we find it? does her non-verbal look like ours?
sex. sex. sex. you think who's fucking who is complicated? nah, you've forgotten the how. what do you mean by "sex drive"? it's entirely situational. wait, yours isn't? oh, no, I'm asexual, not sex repulsed. they don't always go together. does this feel good? ah, you're loosing words. you still OK? squeeze my hand. great. ooh, can we try that? mmmn, yes! harder!
our relationship could be summed up by the words "what time is it? fuck! how?". divergent brains so wrapped up in love that we stop time. the world turns around us, but we stay still. hours dissolve into sparkling moments. it feels like bed time.
why is it a numbers game for you? really, the number of people involved is such a small part of why we need to work at our relationship. we might not even think about it if you didn't keep telling us it was "complicated".
Wednesday, 2 November 2016
after the second session
I don't trust my counsellor.
no, that's not right. I trust her in some ways. I trust that she will keep the session confidential, and I trust that she thinks she's listening. she just doesn't understand.
I came out, sort of. I said I was bi & in a poly relationship. I tried to talk about the gap between talking to well intentioned but clueless straight people, and my fellow queers. it's not that my coursemates are actively queerphobic, but using "man" as shorthand for "partner or potential partner" assumes heterosexuality. adding "...or woman or whatever" when talking to me, as one coursemate does, is somehow worse.
I tried to explain how I feel I should educate my coursemates, so that they will be able to effectively support queer clients, and that I really don't know how to do that. because I know the queer community has appalling mental health statistics, and know some of the horror stories from those who've tried to get help from clueless mental health professionals.
she just wanted to know if I was scared to come out to her, and was very keen to explain that counsellors had to accept all kinds of people so sexuality doesn't matter. she didn't care that any fears I might have came from a rational place, or about the gulf of difference between "oh, of course I'm fine with that" and actually feeling heard & accepted.
I wasn't scared to come out, because I'm not that vulnerable right now. I'm in counselling because having 6 sessions of personal counselling is a course requirement, rather than because I need it. in any other situation, I would be nervous because coming out is always a risk.
and she kinda proved that point. being queer is highly significant, as is the gap between the real world and ideal counselling practise. telling me "it doesn't matter because counsellors have to accept all kinds of difference" dismisses both that gap and the significance of my relationships and community.
I don't know what that means for session 3, except that I won't be coming out as Autistic. that's a bigger risk than being queer.
no, that's not right. I trust her in some ways. I trust that she will keep the session confidential, and I trust that she thinks she's listening. she just doesn't understand.
I came out, sort of. I said I was bi & in a poly relationship. I tried to talk about the gap between talking to well intentioned but clueless straight people, and my fellow queers. it's not that my coursemates are actively queerphobic, but using "man" as shorthand for "partner or potential partner" assumes heterosexuality. adding "...or woman or whatever" when talking to me, as one coursemate does, is somehow worse.
I tried to explain how I feel I should educate my coursemates, so that they will be able to effectively support queer clients, and that I really don't know how to do that. because I know the queer community has appalling mental health statistics, and know some of the horror stories from those who've tried to get help from clueless mental health professionals.
she just wanted to know if I was scared to come out to her, and was very keen to explain that counsellors had to accept all kinds of people so sexuality doesn't matter. she didn't care that any fears I might have came from a rational place, or about the gulf of difference between "oh, of course I'm fine with that" and actually feeling heard & accepted.
I wasn't scared to come out, because I'm not that vulnerable right now. I'm in counselling because having 6 sessions of personal counselling is a course requirement, rather than because I need it. in any other situation, I would be nervous because coming out is always a risk.
and she kinda proved that point. being queer is highly significant, as is the gap between the real world and ideal counselling practise. telling me "it doesn't matter because counsellors have to accept all kinds of difference" dismisses both that gap and the significance of my relationships and community.
I don't know what that means for session 3, except that I won't be coming out as Autistic. that's a bigger risk than being queer.
Monday, 8 August 2016
"are you OK?"
it's important to communicate clearly. say what you mean and mean what you say. otherwise you've got no right to complain.
but social conditioning is a thing. processing speed is a thing. fear is a thing.
"yes, I'm fine". maybe. I'm fine, or I don't want to talk about it, or I don't want to talk to you about it, or you've triggered my social script and generated a useless answer.
ask if I'm sure, or don't. it's more accurate, but it was my fuckup not yours.
"yes", "I don't want to talk about it", "no"
OR "you remember yesterday I said...."
...but what about your social conditioning? your processing speed? your fears?
how far can I go? if I ask "do you hug?" will the tears in my eyes manipulate you into acceptance? if I ask for a kiss, will your past scare you into it, or affection for me mute your objection?
how would I know? and how do I balance what I want with not knowing?
but social conditioning is a thing. processing speed is a thing. fear is a thing.
"yes, I'm fine". maybe. I'm fine, or I don't want to talk about it, or I don't want to talk to you about it, or you've triggered my social script and generated a useless answer.
ask if I'm sure, or don't. it's more accurate, but it was my fuckup not yours.
"yes", "I don't want to talk about it", "no"
OR "you remember yesterday I said...."
...but what about your social conditioning? your processing speed? your fears?
how far can I go? if I ask "do you hug?" will the tears in my eyes manipulate you into acceptance? if I ask for a kiss, will your past scare you into it, or affection for me mute your objection?
how would I know? and how do I balance what I want with not knowing?
Wednesday, 6 April 2016
today I'm scared.
today I'm scared.
I'm scared I'll fail my course, I'm scared of Brexit, and I'm scared about the conference I'm going to this weekend.
I know the conference fear is irrational. it'll be good, or, if not, it's in Edinburgh. I can fuck off and do antisocial Edinburgh tourist stuff.
Brexit is terrifying. it'd be easy to assume we'll stay and it'll be fine. I haven't met anyone who understands the difference between the European parliament and the European court of human rights, and also wants to leave. and therein lies the problem. a lot of people want out over petty shit that a. is nothing to do with the EU or b. is an EU policy we'd have to follow if we want to trade with them, in or out.
failing isn't an option. it isn't. the cost is too high. I can't face being without a plan again. I can't face my own brain after failing a level 2 course.
to pass, I need to meet 23 criteria across 7 units. I need to meet each criteria twice. that's 46 times my tutor has to say "yes". so far, I have 7 from 5 week's homework. I think I've done more. I honestly don't understand why the others were wrong. I should have at least 10.
our coursework consists of 11 weekly learning reviews, 2 learning summaries, an essay, and any peer assessments we choose to include. we're only supposed to attempt 1-2 criteria per page, with maximum word counts of 1000 (less than 2 pages) for each learning review & summary, and 2000 for the essay. 46 minus 7 gives me 39 criteria to hit. if I attempt the maximum of 4 in the remaining learning reviews & both learning summaries, that's 32. I have space to attempt another 8 in the essay. that's a margin for error of 1.
...and that's assuming I can make myself write the fucking learning summary. to do that, I have to write down really personal stuff about my motivations to be a counsellor. I then have to hand it in to my tutor who I don't trust, so she can read it and, as far as I make out, flip a coin to decide if it meets criteria. I've tried asking where I've gone wrong, and I get a pissed off "go read the criteria". um, I did. she's said she won't answer emails between classes, so we shouldn't email her for any reason other than to notify her of absences. if I can't contact her between classes, and she can't be bothered in class, I don't know what to do to make sure I get it "right" (whatever "right" means)
I'm probably going to fail, right?
I'm scared I'll fail my course, I'm scared of Brexit, and I'm scared about the conference I'm going to this weekend.
I know the conference fear is irrational. it'll be good, or, if not, it's in Edinburgh. I can fuck off and do antisocial Edinburgh tourist stuff.
Brexit is terrifying. it'd be easy to assume we'll stay and it'll be fine. I haven't met anyone who understands the difference between the European parliament and the European court of human rights, and also wants to leave. and therein lies the problem. a lot of people want out over petty shit that a. is nothing to do with the EU or b. is an EU policy we'd have to follow if we want to trade with them, in or out.
failing isn't an option. it isn't. the cost is too high. I can't face being without a plan again. I can't face my own brain after failing a level 2 course.
to pass, I need to meet 23 criteria across 7 units. I need to meet each criteria twice. that's 46 times my tutor has to say "yes". so far, I have 7 from 5 week's homework. I think I've done more. I honestly don't understand why the others were wrong. I should have at least 10.
our coursework consists of 11 weekly learning reviews, 2 learning summaries, an essay, and any peer assessments we choose to include. we're only supposed to attempt 1-2 criteria per page, with maximum word counts of 1000 (less than 2 pages) for each learning review & summary, and 2000 for the essay. 46 minus 7 gives me 39 criteria to hit. if I attempt the maximum of 4 in the remaining learning reviews & both learning summaries, that's 32. I have space to attempt another 8 in the essay. that's a margin for error of 1.
...and that's assuming I can make myself write the fucking learning summary. to do that, I have to write down really personal stuff about my motivations to be a counsellor. I then have to hand it in to my tutor who I don't trust, so she can read it and, as far as I make out, flip a coin to decide if it meets criteria. I've tried asking where I've gone wrong, and I get a pissed off "go read the criteria". um, I did. she's said she won't answer emails between classes, so we shouldn't email her for any reason other than to notify her of absences. if I can't contact her between classes, and she can't be bothered in class, I don't know what to do to make sure I get it "right" (whatever "right" means)
I'm probably going to fail, right?
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